A game.

It had a curious ring to it. So piquing that it roused Victoria from her sleep, drawing the eagle out of her corner and into the conversation. So tempting that it coaxed the forest night away from quiet dreams and quiet sleep; inviting the dance of stars under a quaint moon light—listening to the sounds of the heart that came from a humble hut.

"A game?"

Io was glad that he asked. "Yes, a game."

"...alright," Luka said after some time, and his Avian couldn't help but laugh at the plain blindness of his foolish agreement.

After all, no one would be silly enough to agree to something they didn't know what. Perhaps in this time and age, trust was a mere myth. An entity that existed only in tales and in dreams.

Io looked around the treehouse. It was small, and there was nothing much to do.

"Okay, listen close," He shifted so that he was facing Luka. "Do you know how to play I spy?"

The eagle stilled, waiting.

"Um, I'll take that as a no," Io laughed, smiling sheepishly. He took Lyra in his hands. "Alright, the game works like this—we take turns to be the spy. First, the spy will silently choose an object that is visible to everyone, and then start by saying: 'I spy with my little eye something that is...' followed by an attribute of the object you have chosen from before. The other player will try and guess the object from the clues that are given. Easy, right?"

He turned expectantly to his friend.

The eagle fixed a gaze in return, watching closely. He said nothing.

"Why don't you start," Io piped, egging on his companion while Lyra chirped in agreement. "Pick an object; anything you like."

Luka surveyed the room silently.

All he found was a quiet mind that paled in comparison to a thunderous heart.

"Chair," He said.

Io brought a palm to his forehead. "You're not supposed to say it out loud, Luka!" He laughed, nonetheless, in a manner that seemed to glow in the dark. "Alright—how about this, I'll be the spy. You guess."

Luka nodded.

He noticed, strangely, that the smaller frame had scooted a little closer; to the lamp or to him—he did not know. It was simply something that caught his attention.

"I spy with my little eye something that is...black," Io hummed, looking elsewhere. It was his favorite part of the game—where he thought it rather amusing that others would try to catch and follow his gaze.

"My tie."

Io blinked in surprise. "Wait, how did you know? I didn't even look at it." He considered the possibility that Luka was simply good at guessing, but the fact that he hit the mark on his first try made such a consideration seemingly dull.

The eagle squared his shoulders in a subtle manner. "Your gaze lingered."

"No it didn't!" His companion insisted, turning to Victoria. "Did it?"

She spread her wings—as if shaking the dust off after a long nap—and folded them right after. I wasn't looking. Were you? Victoria asked the sparrow on Io's lap.

Oh no, I wasn't either, Lyra admitted sheepishly; and Io was prompted to wonder if Luka was able to hear this conversation the way he could hear it.

"I can," Luka replied simply. This was amusing indeed in contrast to the bewildered response by Io himself, which consisted of a startled jump accompanied by a suiting squeak of surprise.

"It's happening again?" He asked, excited and curious—but slightly fearful at the same time. Then why can't I hear you?

"You can. My mind's just quiet, that's all."

Io nodded slowly, trying to understand all this, and in the midst of doing so, he ran into a peculiar discovery. It was rather problematic.

"Wait. How are we going to play the game like this? If you can hear my thoughts I can hear yours then—" He paused, a little upset.

Luka seemed less disturbed. "Is it my turn?"

"Yes," His companion blinked in confusion at his indifference. "But, um, aren't you...bored?"

No not at all. Luka was far from being bored—it simply didn't show on his face. "No."

"Alright then," Io piped, somehow satisfactorily comforted by his answer. "It's your turn to be the spy."

He shifted to face the balcony, where the sky and the forest could be seen. Yet, it was so dark that neither knew where each started and where each ended. It seemed to be one; as a whole.

So dark, that the stars were so bright.

Luka was awfully quiet, and his long silence prompted Io to ask if he was done choosing an object.

"Yes," he said.

"Then say the thing!" Io laughed, prodding the eagle's kneecap as if to hurry his companion. "I spy with my little eye...what?"

"Loud," He had a strong gaze. "It's loud."

His companion blinked at his curious choice, confused. "Loud? But..."

He looked around.

"Everything's so quiet."

The trees swayed, bending and whispering in the darkness; casting shadows that longed for a faded light. A light that would reveal the beauty of its figure.

"It is?" Luka said in return, resting his gaze on the sparrow. He seemed to find in him a strange interest; an interest so subtle and slight that he could have missed it entirely if not for the darkness of the night.

The one beside glowed in comparison to this, and perhaps that was why he was so hard to miss. He stopped to listen—if he wasn't already doing so—but rid nothing of his puzzled take on Luka's question.

"The wind?" He guessed, deep in thought. Luka shook his head. "Loud. Loud...the, um, the creaky floorboards!"

The eagle shook his head once more but unfortunately for him, Io was not one to give up so easily. "Then it must be Lyra, because she can be quite loud sometimes—"

The sparrow chirped indignantly, nipping his finger.

Io flinched with gasp. Victoria laughed; thoroughly amused. She couldn't hear what Luka was thinking either. After all, quiet minds could not be read and the eagle's was so...very...silent. At that point of time.

"Okay. I think I got it," Io snapped his fingers all of a sudden, turning to Luka with a lunar smile. "It's my tummy isn't it? I haven't eaten all night except for the trifle in the kitchen. Professor Alfred sent me out to serve more drinks after that so..." He scratched the back of his head in a sheepish manner. "Sorry about that."

The eagle was mildly surprised by this response. He was sure that he had purposefully requested the council to invite Io as a guest, not a waiter. Such treatment had come rather unexpected.

"Hungry?"

Io fixed an inquisitive gaze at the predator. "You mean for supper?"

"Anything, yes."

"Oh that's alright really," He laughed, warming his hands by the lamp. "I don't think I'm allowed to. Besides, I can't go back to the ball now—Professor Alfred's going to put me on a plate and serve me for breakfast tomorrow once he sees me. I snuck out, you see."

Luka could; and he found it fairly amusing.

Bold one aren't you? Victoria quipped lightly, stretching her wings for the second time. Alfred's a bore. Can't stand him at all.

The sparrow couldn't help but agree upon hearing her thoughts.

"It was just one spoon of trifle. The other waiters did it too but I guess Professor Alfred wasn't exactly looking...so," He sighed. "Guess I shouldn't have tried."

The eagle loosened his tie, relaxing as the night breeze slipped past his hair in a gentle caress. He did feel a little less active; now that the moon was awake and the sun—asleep.

"You like it?"

Io blinked. "Trifle?"

"Yes."

"Well...not really," He pondered. "I mean I'm fine with it, and of course everything tastes amazing at a ball, so of course it would be alright to say that I liked it but at the same time..."

"I don't want to betray my sunflower seeds," He ended oh-so-intelligently, staring blankly at the dark sky. Then, as if embarrassed and seeking to explain himself, he added with a shy smile; "oh, uh, I meant to say that sunflower seeds are my favorite. They make me happy and all, and my mother used to buy packets of roasted sunflower seeds every week."

Luka found this response rather endearing. Of course, he didn't know what that word necessarily meant but that didn't really matter to the eagle; all he knew was that it felt close to the heart, and perhaps that itself was sufficiently satisfying.

"Aw," Io scooted over to the opened sleeping bag, lying down without hesitation before stretching out on the cushioned material. "Talking about sunflower seeds makes me sad. It's been so long since I last ate one. Apparently my mother sent me a packet, but the letter that I received didn't come with it at all...I wonder where it went."

There is a rule that all post to Marks have to be...sorted, Victoria explained. She wondered what the weight in her wings implied. And why she was feeling this way, for the matter. The headmistress' orders.

"Oh," Io said shortly in understanding. "I see."

There was a tempered silence that came with the night. It settled around the pair for some time—not between and not amongst them; just, around. Keeping them together.

"Were we...doing something before?"

Luka stared intently at the other. "Were we?"

"Weren't we..." Io's eyes widened, lips parted as if he had reached a sort of momentarily enlightenment, "we were supposed to be playing I spy!"

Victoria burst out laughing, talons accidentally marking the wooden planks beneath while her Winged remained quite silent.

"Where were we?" He asked.

"I can't remember, exactly," His companion said, trying hard to recall. The faraway music was partly distracting; for he seemed to find the tune strangely familiar. "Don't you find this music familiar?"

Luka listened.

"Do you?"

Io nodded urgently. He found himself swaying—it was a very happy tune, and his heart followed suit gladly. "Luka, can you dance?"

The eagle was thoroughly amused by his question, but nevertheless answered as honestly as he could. Victoria of course, was laughing hard.

"I can. But there are times when I don't wish to."

"Which is most of the time?" Io asked next, with a fleeting smile.

"Yes."

Io laughed. "How about now?"

"Not really," Luka replied after putting some thought into the question, and Io pouted.

"Aw..."

"Why?"

"I thought we could embarrass ourselves together," The small one responded sheepishly, a playful smile on his lips. "I'm really bad at it, you see."

The eagle laughed inside.

How this particular piece seemed to have the power of willing Io to do what he had been so unwilling to appeared almost miraculous to the boy. He could not resist it any longer. There was something in his cage that he had to release.

He bit his lip. "Luka, close your eyes okay?"

"You're going to dance?"

Io's ears turned a shade darker in embarrassment, but he answered all the same. "Y-yes. So please don't look."

The predator closed his eyes and leaned back against the wood, as if consenting to his request.

Assured, Io began.

Slowly—tentative at first; he stepped forth, boards underneath his feet creaking just a little.

Io cupped his hands and picked Lyra up from the floor, turning, swaying, as though he was dancing with her. He laughed, a soft tingling sound that was pleasant to the ears. Or to the eagle, at least.

Luka could hear his steps—albeit off beat at some parts of the waltz—carefully free across the tiny balcony. He imagined the small frame doing his best to follow a strict progressive step, confined by the borders of the treehouse.

He felt a strange bubbling from within. Certainly, bubbles were...the most peculiar.

The eagle couldn't help but open his eyes.

Io noticed this almost instantly—perhaps merely proving the point that he was so aware of Luka's presence. Embarrassed, he blushed up to his ears and stopped moving immediately, hiding behind his hands. Lyra jumped, taking refuge over his shoulder.

"I told you not to look!"

It was then when the predator smiled. A rare, subtle smile that could have easily been missed.

Io wouldn't have missed it—but he was burying his head in his hands.

And so he did.

By the time he looked up, Luka's expression appeared the same as before.

"It was hard not to," The eagle said calmly in return; and Victoria lightly agreed. With this, the faint music, barely audible, ended on a note of finality which Io noticed. He felt terribly upset that it had come to an end.

Little did he know that Luka was, too. Of course, he didn't express it in any manner at all.

"Ah well," The small one squared his shoulders with an airy smile, "there's always a next time."

Luka paused; looking out. The night sky had darkened immensely to a cloak of shadows, lending the pair a guise that enabled them to speak on the same level.

Not as predator and prey;

But as—

"How do you know?" He asked after a thoughtful moment.

Io glowed. It was a question that he'd always asked and for that moment, he was relieved that he wasn't alone.

"I'm not sure, but," He turned to his companion, "maybe—as long as we live—don't you think that there would always..."

Be a next page? He had wanted to say. But the metaphor (he didn't know what that was but it didn't really matter at that moment) sounded rather strange and out of the blue in the context of their conversation, so he changed it.

"—be a next time?"

The eagle fixed a gaze at Io; eyes full, mind empty, heart—awfully loud.

Lyra didn't really agree, but she said so only at the back of her Winged's mind, while Victoria simply laughed melodiously.

It was a quiet moment. A moment, perhaps fleeting, that they saw each other as the same.

A human being.

Not as predator and prey;

But as—

Luka and Io.

"It's late," The taller one voiced quite suddenly, rising.

Io blinked, watching as he did so. The beat of his wings inside hastened for a moment, as if in panic. "Do you have a watch?"

"No."

"How did you know, then?"

Luka hesitated, hearing the loud thing burn like a fire so loud. He was getting increasingly frustrated with himself.

"It feels like we have to part."

As this, Io couldn't help but feel a little disappointed by the eagle's response. He didn't understand what it felt like to believe that their time was up. It was sad that the night didn't somehow make their time eternal.

"Next time," Luka said—as if he had heard his thoughts. "I will come again."

The boy felt his light from within bloom like a flower greeting its dawn. Next time.

It was a beautiful phrase.

"Me too!" His smile was lunar. "I'll come too."

And that was there, and then—that Luka Sullivan could not resist a rare smile.

Io stopped.

Stared; eyes wide in awe and curiosity. Wonder.

This was a wonder.

As subtle as it was, the eagle had smiled.

But before his companion could voice his amazement and gratitude—or any other ecstatic emotion he was experiencing, for the matter—Luka had taken to the night sky, leaving behind his only light.

______________________________

It was a matter of pure coincidence that they met.

Io was skirting the grounds in front of the main building, peering out occasionally from his hiding spot (which consisted of tree trunks and bushes) before confirming that all was clear and he ought to proceed forward safely before being found out.

Forward? Where, exactly?

Well, not that he knew in the least. After all, the boy felt rather lost under the stars; as if he was left quite alone.

He had intended to sneak past the main building, where the waltz had slowed to a romantic step suitable for a midnight dance and the lights dimmed to a heartwarming glow, but was surprised to be stopped by a...familiar face. Or beard, to be exact.

"Oh, hello there young one," Lord Falrir's voice was raspy and he coughed twice. Wobbling forth on his stick, he approached Io with a peculiar question. "Have you time to spare?"

The boy was frightened by this sudden address, almost like a student who had been called out by his teacher to solve some ridiculously complicated math problem on the board. "Uh—yes...? Sir. I am. I mean—yes, I do have time to spare."

There was of course, the thought of inquiring what Falrir meant by time, or spare, for the matter. And there was also, the question of his absence from the Commemoration ball. Was he, too, bored?

"Oh no, youthful bird. I am not bored," He chuckled under his beard, peering down at Io. Despite his age, Io could tell that Lord Falrir was a tall and strong man. Uh, a hundred years ago. Yes, indeed. "I had merely wished to use the washroom, and I see now that I am rather lost."

They walked at an agonizing pace.

"Happy birthday, Sir."

"You have my thanks, little young'un. How was the party?"

Oh. He said 'party', Io thought in mild amusement, taking quiet mirth in such tiny details. "It was...great, Sir."

The dragon coughed once, and Io was sure he felt the heat of his flame from within.

"Good to hear, radiant youth. Good to hear." Io was thoroughly amused by his various names, and 'radiant youth' was by far the most entertaining. "Might I suggest the trifle? I took to it immediately. Splendid. I like it very much."

His young companion played along.

"I did too Sir," though I only had a spoonful, "it was delighting. But Sir, does chocolate and cream not make the throat worse?"

He couldn't help but add, before realizing that he was awfully rude to question the Lord's choice of delicacy. Surely, Falrir knew—

"My," The dragon turned to Io with wide eyes. His beard moved along with his change in expression. "You are right, tiny youth. You are right."

They finally arrived at their destination. Que awkward moment.

"Sir, shall I...? Do you want me to—"

"Oh I'm glad you offered," Lord Falrir handed Io the most exquisite walking stick he had ever seen before coughing once more. "Hold my stick. Now, if you'd excuse me."

He entered the washroom.

Io waited outside, shifting his feet every now and then.

The faint sound of running water could be heard before it was cut off abruptly—and the Lord reappeared adjusting his robes.

"You have my thanks, bright one."

"Shall I escort you back to the ballroom, Sir?" Io asked before he could think. And once he did, he regretted his words instantly. He was supposed to avoid getting caught by Professor Alfred!

"I believe I shall take you up on that offer," Lord Falrir smiled, smoothing his beard as Io returned his walking stick.

The boy sighed internally.

"Oh but wait—" Lord Falrir said quite suddenly, feet stopping and coughing hard for some time. Thinking that the dragon was experiencing a fit of shock, Io hurried to pat his back in a feather-like fashion; afraid that he was far too fragile to receive a normal one.

"Sir? Sir, are you alright?"

"Yes," He rasped. "Good, bird-like youth. Good. I'm good."

"Uh, oh okay."

The dragon breathed deeply before continuing. "I almost forgot that it was the library, and not the washroom that I had intended to go to."

Io thought that the two places differed vastly, but was polite enough not to voice this. "Would you like me to..."

"Yes of course, little child. Please guide me there."

*

Io did his best not to laugh.

They were on the stairs of the third floor, and they had been for the past ten minutes.

"Just a little more, Sir. The library is on the next floor," He also did his best to encourage the dragon. It was ironic how Lord Falrir had managed to fly hundreds of miles and yet took ten seconds to climb a step. Five to lift his leg, two to set it down firmly, and three to hoist the other leg up.

Io counted.

"How splendid that is, young bird. Splendid indeed."

"Why are you going to the library, Sir?" Io couldn't help but ask. "Is there something you'd like to read?"

"Ah."

The Lord smiled thoughtfully, as if recalling a hundred years' worth of memories.

"I am going to see...a friend."

"A friend, Sir?"

"Yes, indeed. A friend."

His next few steps were faster; as though propelled by the thought of someone waiting for him.

_________________________________

Luka was not alone when he entered the post.

There was someone else at the counter, flipping through a catalogue. His Avian perched on his padded shoulder, peering at the contents.

The Nocturne looked up.

"What's an eagle doing here at night?"

Luka identified the Avian; a snowy owl. And upon closer inspection, he realized that it was the snowy owl he had the misfortune of meeting back then, during the games.

Luka couldn't remember his name.

The owl had been useful in some manner, but ultimately...he was merely one of the Hearts. Like himself.

"Does it concern you?" Luka replied, crossing over to the next counter to pick up a similar catalogue.

Slayne clicked his tongue, displeased. "Kids these days."

"You're only a year older."

"Makes a lot of difference," The snowy owl shrugged, and his Avian turned her head creepily—all the way round—just to hoot disapprovingly at Victoria.

Victoria, having none of this, stretched her wings once.

The span of them did their work, yielding her desired effect from the owl.

She turned away.

"Buying something?"

Luka didn't bother to respond.

"For that sparrow?" The eagle continued to flip through the catalogue impassively, scanning its contents on a page before moving on to the next. He was searching for something.

Slayne gave up, scoffing disapprovingly before filling up an order sheet with the serial numbers of Jiro's favorite Japanese snacks and submitting it to a dove behind the counter.

These serial numbers were, of course, obtained from the catalogue which he had been examining for the past hour—trying his best to identify all his prey's favorites. The owl proceeded silently towards the doors of the post office, deciding on his immediate return back to his dorms without a moment of hesitation.

As soon as Slayne pushed open the glass doors, the faint sound of orchestral music stole into the room like a passing breeze; before dying when the doors closed shut.

It was oddly quiet in the post, but Luka was used to such stilling silence and so felt nothing new.

His eyes tore across the page, searching for that particular product on his mind. The catalogue was opened to a page labelled Foodstuffs, categorized by the country it would be imported from and ranked according to popularity.

Luka turned the page.

His Avian was equally absorbed in the task, peering over his shoulder and examining the right side of the catalogue while her Winged did the left.

Ah. Perhaps they don't have it after all? Victoria said at last, a hint of disappointment hiding beneath her tone.

They had flipped through more than half the catalogue with at least a hundred pages. Still, nothing.

The eagle was about to put the catalogue away and leave. After all, it really just wasn't him to care about this at all. It was trivial.

So trivial, and yet—

Maybe it'll be on the next page.

He hesitated;

Then flipped.

And there it was.

Situated at the bottom right of the page, so tiny he might have missed it—

#1001 Sunflower seeds

_______________________________

A/N: Eeep /.\ so cute. Help. I need help. *drowns in sunflower seeds and feels and everything else* aoeifjaoeijfkoje 

Does anyone like Japanese snacks too? Maybe we could ask Slayne to get us some ;_; 

Nah, he'd kill us D: it's only for his Jiro.

-Cuppiecake. 

P.S Maybe I'll make a list of everyone's favorite foods one day. :> I had this inkling that Vaughn likes Korean and Slayne just likes anything Jiro makes hahahahaa!