A/N: This one's about Ishani, as the chapter title says, and I based a lot of this off of her song in the trailer because she doesn't have too much development in the movie… anyways, I haven't done a plane yet, so I figured I should do one :). If you guys have any suggestions for other oneshots, be sure to let me know. I'm kind of running out… I think I have one more idea, but I'm not sure.

Also, as I am not too familiar with the culture, I'm going to ask that you bear with me with some of the possible errors on my part, and I apologize in advance if I do get anything wrong.

Technorganic Nerd- I just wanted to say thanks for reviewing so much :). I love it when my review count goes up :P.

Matt (Guest)- Well, here it is!

RushandStreak- I'm glad you liked how I used her. I just couldn't help myself… :P. It was so fun writing, so I'm glad you liked it!

Enjoy :).

All she had was flying. The young Indian girl walked silently from school to her house, passing a couple cows along the way, scratching one's ear out of jest. She quickly put her backpack on the ground and did her homework, making a sandwich sprinkled with orange zest. She loved the color it added to the otherwise plain snack, but she wasn't even hungry. Ishani instead got a glass of water. Taking breaks to clear her throat, she finished the glass quickly. She lived alone, then. It had been a while ago that her parents were taken, and she was lucky not to be in one of the containment facilities like the other children were; she was the exception.

Her parents had enrolled her in junior flight school, and she loved every second in the air or even fixing the plane she was assigned to. Her idea of school was going to an open field and watching the planes fly by above her, taking notes on any maneuvers she saw. Being one of the last people around, she was given free choice of any planes not being used for the Revolution, so she picked a finely-tuned racing plane. Even if it was plain white, she still loved how it handled and managed the wind. Dressing in her pilot's gear just because she could, she got on her bike and began the long journey to the airport.

Riding in the alleyways to avoid the streets, she tried to think about all that had happened so far. It was only a year ago that her parents and siblings had been taken from her. Her father had told her to hide in a closet, so she ran into the small bedroom she and her sisters shared and did just that.

The dark, dingy room concealed her form in the blackness, but it was not enough to hide. The officers had been ordered to search the building. One threw open the door, finding her. In a matter of seconds, she was being drug out by her feet and being questioned.

"Do you live here?"

"Yes."

"Are you of age 13 or above?"

"No."

"How old are you?"

"12." She answered the questions robotically, as she had been taught to.

"Is there any reason why you should not come with us?"

"Junior flight school."

The officers paused, "Aren't you a little young to…"

"Yes, yes I am," she said, unfeeling. Maybe it was working.

The leader sighed, "Leave this one," he said to the others, "She doesn't have much longer left, and she could use the training." With that, the raid ended, leaving her as the only resident of the house. For the most part, she was left alone in her section of the town. There was a small doctor's office down the street. No one ever entered or exited, but its open sign remained on, unchanged. She mostly ignored it, but it was the only building that wasn't run down in her world.

She finally arrived at the open airfield, glad her cough didn't keep her out. While there were no planes out and about, she knew they were there, but probably in the hangar. Leaving her bike outside on the ground, she joyously sprinted to the large metal building, slipping in the small door on the side.

"Hi, Kamal," she said cheerfully, "Are you in here?"

A medium-sized silver plane came out from behind a couple others, which were lifeless, "Where else would I be? Are you ready for today's lesson?"

She had already walked over to her plane, "When am I not?" She climbed onto its wing carefully, so as to not scratch it, and got into the cockpit, pressing the button to turn on the engine and putting her headphones on; they doubled as a radio connected to her instructor.

"Ishani," he said once he registered the signal, "Do you copy?"

"I copy," she said happily, laughing. She felt so at home.

"Good," he said, making himself visible to her, "Follow me to the runway."

Ishani taxied the plane out as fast as she could without getting in trouble. She'd been working with Kamal for a while now. She had never seen him as a human, but he had been assigned to her when the authorities released her so long ago. Her fourteenth birthday was just a few weeks away.

When she made it out to the runway, the silver plane began to instruct her over the radio again, "You know what to do, now." He took off ahead of her, banking in large circles. Ishani accelerated her plane into a takeoff, pressing the buttons exactly as she had done almost every day, joining him in the circle Kamal was flying.

"What are we doing today?"

"Hm…" he thought for a second, "Do you know how to freefall?"

"That's a little advanced, isn't it?"

"Oh, don't get scared now," he joked, "That act's for on the ground. You'll be fine, trust me."

"Okay…" she coughed, forgetting to turn off the radio.

"Are you alright?"

"I think it's just allergies," she lied, "What do I do first?"

"You have to climb as steep as possible," he said, "Let the engine stall, it'll come back when you need it to. Fall backwards as long as possible, flip the engine back on and turn around. Do you want me to demonstrate?"

"Yes, please," she replied. The silver plane climbed for a few hundred feet as he had said, allowing himself to go steeper than needed. Stalling, he let himself fall backwards. She gasped in horror, and he laughed a little, turning his engine back on and flipping around.

"It's fun once you get the hang of it."

She sighed, making her plane climb as Kamal had done. The engine stalled, and she pulled the controls towards her, making it flip backwards. The sheer G-force of it all forced her into a coughing fit, and it was all she could do to turn the engine back on before the ground came too close. Kamal was cheering for her, and when Ishani joined him again, he offered her a wing for a high five. She maneuvered her plane to gently brush over it with a wing.

"What was the purpose of the dive?" he asked her, quizzing her knowledge of different maneuvers.

"Um… escape and… fun?" she laughed a little.

"Correct," he replied, "Ready to land?"

"Sure," she said somewhat sadly. She wanted to stay in the air forever, but she was too tired. Angling her plane into position, she landed flawlessly. After checking her plane for damage and saying her good-byes, she made her way home. Parking her bike in the front of her house, she looked at the green open sign of the doctor's office. It looked so friendly to her. Breaking down into a coughing fit, she went inside and turned on the light. Observing her hand she covered her mouth with, she was horrified. It was covered in blood. Ishani realized she couldn't fight it anymore.

Making the solemn walk across the soft dirt road, she shakily placed her clean hand on the door handle. Pulling, she found it easily gave way. At the back of the brightly lit room, she saw a scanning machine with a place for a handprint. Gingerly putting her hand on it, a blue light scanned the print, identifying her. Ishani heard a noise, and turned around to find that the front wall had been barred off. Instantly frightened, she looked for another escape. There was none.

The machine at the back of the room began beeping wildly, opening to reveal another scanning instrument that came to life. It scanned the whole room, stopping when it found Ishani. Keeping the light centered on her, it seemed to process what it had found. It then deactivated, the machine closing. The screen below the scanner lit up, revealing the results: "VIRAL CANCER TYPE 4: LUNG ORIGIN."

Ishani gasped and stepped back, her cough taking over again. The back wall opened up to a warehouse, filled with living cars. Three noticed the wall opening and instantly drove over. One pulled up a screen on the outside of the room. "Your first name?" he asked.

"Ishani," she said quietly.

They clicked something on the screen mounted into the wall, and his brown eyes met hers before he called a subordinate over, "Find a way to contact Kamal," he ordered, making Ishani even more scared.

"What's happening?" she begged to know.

"You probably don't want to know," one responded.

They gathered around her, forcing her to walk into the warehouse. A white car drove by her side, joining those who greeted her, "Look sweetie," she said in an American accent, "This is going to be difficult for all of us to explain, so try not to ask any, okay?"

"But—"

She sighed, "I'll give you one question, how does that sound?"

"Will I still be able to fly?" she blurted out, coughing afterwards.

"As far as I know, yes," she replied, causing Ishani to breathe out a sigh of relief; she took the hint to be quiet, but she silently resisted, stopping every now and then to see if she could find a way out. She saw the warehouse more clearly, seeing different doors on all sides, all sealed and all silent except the one she came out of, which was open and beeping.

They placed Ishani in a room that was clear on one side, but had no doorknob or any way out. Sitting in a corner, she cried, pulling her knees in close. What had she done wrong? She looked out the window with curiosity and saw Kamal enter the room, looking as sad as she had ever seen him. She couldn't hear them talking, but she hoped her mentor would get her out. He looked over at her, making eye contact. He shook his nose sadly, and she put her hand against the glass, begging for escape that she couldn't have.

She could make out beeping, which must have been extremely loud for her to have picked up any of it, and she saw a plane, her plane, being pulled into the room, but it didn't look like it did before. It had been painted orange, the brightest color imaginable. While she thought it was pretty, she also thought something was missing. If she had her way, it'd have much more detailing on it. Ishani heard a hissing, and she saw gas coming from the walls. In a matter of seconds, her life flashed before her eyes. All of the flying lessons she had taken, all of the successes and even the small crashes along the way. "It's my sky," she whispered to herself, her ability to think fading rapidly, causing her to fall into a deep sleep.

Ishani slowly began to awaken, her eyes fluttering open; the first thing she saw was Kamal, standing at her level a small distance away, talking to a car that stood just below him. She felt like she was floating, but she couldn't comprehend how.

Kamal finally saw that she was awake and moved over to her, "Hi, Ishani," he said gently, moving around her side, placing his wing under hers. She tried to move back out of fright, but she couldn't. Looking to her side, she saw a wing of her plane supported by some sort of strap, keeping her standing.

"What's—"

"It's why they let you stay when they took your parents," he said sadly, yet somewhat happily, "They wanted someone to be a racing plane because India doesn't have many right now, so they let me train you because you showed talent for a girl of your age."

She didn't like her instructor talking to her like that, but she decided to be quiet, "I just want to fly," she whispered, on the verge of crying.

"It's going to take a while to get back in the air," he admitted, "but you're going to be one of the only female racers in the world. Do you think you're up for it?"

"I'm not going to try and beat the boys at their game…" she replied, starting her engine. It gave her a boost of confidence, even if she couldn't go anywhere, "They'll never catch me, anyway."