The String Moving Our Bones

Death could be a beautiful affair. Such was the essence of autumn.

Trees laid bare, abandoned of the green vigor that overtook their limbs during the warmer seasons. The month of Luoti was crisp, its gales bringing a neverending chill. And yet, it was but a meager taste for what winter had in store.

Skeletal branches held onto their last verdant remnants in a desperate effort to photosynthesize. Futile. Their fate was sealed, same as it was every single autumn. Doomed to the elements. Some wouldn’t get to see the return of spring. Such was nature.

Mika’s steps fell heavy on hardened mud. Everything, every cranny of the path was caked in sludge. While the shoes spared him the mess, the texture still felt foul. Weight forced the exterior crust to crack, leading into the gooey, half-dried muck. He almost was tempted to wipe his foot against a trunk, as he had already done a myriad times. And every time had been in vain, for there was only more mud to receive him at every step.

“It’s getting colder. Y’know what that means?” Mika asked, stretching his arms out, wings tight at his sides: he didn’t need a gust to force him out of balance. He had a good eye to catch the whims of the weather, but autumn could be unpredictable.

The forest path had been a staple of their routines, both for Mika and Nathan. Barely minutes out from the town, it sat at the verge between a clear path and wild land. The trampled road remained visible throughout the year, though some sections had been closed off from felled trees and landslides. Weeds, roots and stones marked every step. At that time, the landscape looked as if filtered through sepia. Only bronze and umber, rare pops of red, an overcast white sky. But despite the often unremarkable walk, it would be false to say that the forest was unchanging. After all, the pair had come to witness it go through the hurdles of seasons.

Blanketed in frigid white, broken up with black trunks. Ice melting away, giving way for new growth. Prey multiplying, herds and warrens peppered with soft offspring. Insects swarming by the thousands; feeding, reproducing, dying. Flowers receding. Summer ripening berries and fruit. Unstable air currents, heralding thunderstorms and thermals. And then came the winds, gouging the life out from the trees. Greens leading to ochres and brown, the colour of rot.

Soon, the cycle would begin anew.

“Fuck if I know,” Nathan replied, kicking the same rock he had been herding for the duration of the walk. The man was in a mood, alright. Perhaps related to how Mika had turned off the electricity breakers and forced him to experience fresh air. Dealing with Nathan was somewhat like living with a hyper-intelligent dog: able to do advanced math, keep a high ranked job, all while barely taking care of himself.

And just like a dog, it was much more fun to lead him to the solution, instead of outright spelling it out. Like hiding a treat under a mug, and seeing the cogs turning to work it out.

“Weeell,” Mika extended the word in a sing-songy tone. “It’s autumn, isn’t it?”

“So?”

“And then when autumn becomes colder it means…” Mika trailed off.

“Less pointless escapades, I presume.”

“Why, it’s never pointless to spend time with the people you love!”

“The feelings you trigger are closer to the antithesis of love.”

A leaf fluttered before Mika, one he was happy to disturb with a puff of air. “Okay, less pointless escapades. Sure. You say that, but weren’t you the one to initiate a lot of pointless escapades during this… unknown-cold-season?”

The observation was met with a low chuckle. Nathan’s steps slowed down, pebble abandoned a few paces away.

“Almost a year since we met. Is that what’s on your mind?”

Mika grinned. He stopped on his tracks, turning back towards the human. Closing the distance with a leap, grabbing his hands and swinging them with untapped enthusiasm.

“Come, help me make a pile of leaves!”

Then, he ran off. Taking a turn from the trusty path, leaping from its hilly border. Gliding down, he landed on a gentler slope between the sticks. Leaf litter blanketed the ground in a mosaic of russet shades. A trickle bubbled in the distance; just one of dozens of nameless mountain creeks.

He watched Nathan struggle to make his way down from the path. He finally tripped and slid the rest of the way down, tugging a loud cackle out of Mika. At least he had the courtesy to go help him stand, an aid that Nathan received with reluctance. He huffed with annoyance as Mika attempted—and failed—to clean up his black hoodie.

They’d soon discover that cleaning up was fruitless. Their task would only be lifting a dense cloud of new dust.

Prompted by the memory of leaf blowers, Mika was struck by an idea. He flapped his wings, a loud and turbulent effort to collect leaves into the same area. Unlike the controlled stream of a mechanical tool, the gale he generated was erratic. Soon, he had dozens of leaves spiralling in lazy waves, flecks of dust shifting under the waning sunlight. The debris made him sneeze in a continuous flurry.

A few paces away, he heard Nathan snorting. The man looked away, suddenly focused on raking the leaves with his foot, as a sniffling Mika turned to face him.

It was an unexpectedly laborious task, more than either had anticipated. Mika wound up having to mirror Nathan's strategy: piling up leaves with his foot, then carrying them on his arms to the bigger mount.

As the sun began setting, they had collected a respectable stack of forest litter. A majority of musty deciduous leaves, some tiny like a single finger, others bigger than Mika’s splayed hand. At the beginning there had been an attempt to filter out sticks and evergreen needles, but it quickly became a negligible step.

Covered from head to toe in dust, Mika shook like a wet dog, feathers flitting with the whisper of creaking leaves. Pleased with their handiwork, he collapsed on the leaf pile. It crunched loudly, mulch and litter fluttering around him, lifting a new cloud of dust.

“C’mon, get down here!” Mika urged Nathan, lifting one wing and pointing to the open space with a swing of his head.

“I’m good,” Nathan announced, standing stiff like a streetlight pole. His hands disappeared within the pockets of his hoodie, fixing Mika with a stare that ticked down like a bomb. Detonation. A most exasperated sigh. He could almost imagine his thoughts: oh, when shall I be free from this torture?

Gingerly stretching his wings back out, Mika arched and rolled around—just a cat lazing in the sun. In a split second, his wings had pushed back. Lifted up, arms enveloped Nathan’s neck. Running out of momentum. Gravity dragged the pair down in a mess of leaves, groans and cackles, the latter only in Mika’s melodic voice.

Rolling, they landed side to side. Facing each other. Mika swiped leaves away from Nathan’s shoulder, the back of his hand grazing against stubble. The man had a thousand-yard stare, unmistakable tension set on his jaw. Muscles drawn taut, trying not to crack a smile. This only made Mika cackle louder.

Twirling one leaf between his fingers, an idea dawned. Sticking it in Nathan’s hair, dense with packed curls. The leaf stood up easily. With the widest of grins, Mika went to work: sticking as many leaves as he could. Long, russet blades at the sides of his head. Smaller, circular leaves around his temples. One big, five-pointed leaf, right in the middle of his scalp.

“Now that’s a crown fit for a duke.”

“A duke?” Nathan’s eyebrows furrowed, silver eyes widening in a split second of emotion.

“If you're lucky. But I think you have better chances as the jester,” Mika smiled. His arm easily deflected Nathan’s ensuing punch.

“You are lucky someone's ever had pity on your ass,” Nathan complained, landing a handful of hits. Half-hearted, each of them. Mika had seen the man striking his cherished devices with much more wrath.

“Yeah? You're lucky I haven't eaten you yet,” Mika retorted with a quick snap of his jaws.

Nathan smirked, with an irony only exacerbated by how huge his eyes looked through the lenses of his glasses. The petty assault tapered off, hands put to the more productive task of swiping away all the plant matter stuck to his hair. “Mate, if you haven't at this point, I think I'm safe now.”

“Safe, eh?”

The edge in Mika's tone revealed a flicker of tension, Nathan's shoulders bunching up.

Body swinging, hands closed around porcelain skin. Mika sat over the man's chest. The pair was enveloped beneath mantling wings. A tent of feathers, light seeping in from the shingles of plumage. The Cyclone’s wild hair was encircled in light, a halo, glowing whiskers framing his face. And in his shadow, the man. The human. Pale, aluminium soot against the rust of the leaves. That quivering gaze, a neverending dance that encroached Nathan’s vision. Even with his glasses, with optical correction, that shiver of iris never failed to display the true vulnerability beneath.

Humans were so squishy. So easy to break. Squeeze too hard, move too fast, forget to trim your claws—a recipe for disaster.

The gentle heartbeat pulsed under Mika's grasp. Not like he could feel it, not with the plates that covered his fingers. But the sound was there. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump. Incessant, but for how much longer?

A hint of a bitter scent rose. Gentle, dull, almost a whisper between the musty scent of leaves and the roll of the forest. But it was there, growing from beneath. Fear.

“What? Don't tell me you aren't feeling safe right now.” Mika drawled, the words formed with peeled lips, fangs striking.

Wings whipped with a sudden flap, sending whirls of fluttering leaves, a flash of light as the dome was broken. Nathan leaned away as much as he could, eyes wild, straining to look at the consequences of the sudden gust.

“C’mon, we worked hard to pile those,” he whined with a bitter tone.

“Nate.”

The man looked forward again, meeting Mika’s eyes. His gaze, a dead branch under a squall.

“Are you scared of me?” Mika leaned closer, words escaping as a slight whisper. The warm air tickled Nathan's ear.

The hands cradling the throat weren't putting pressure, air flowed freely. But there was that pulse, turning stronger. Faster.

“That's a complicated question,” Nathan replied. Each word paused, a sentence that flowed like molasses, but every syllable came enunciated clearly. The hard lump of larynx shifted under Mika's palms.

“What's so complicated about it? You either are, or you aren't.”

“You have the nuance of a bomb through a brick wall,” Nathan said, exasperation dripping from the words. Mika squeezed down on the neck before the man had a chance to mutter an accompanying sigh. Barely a trickle of force pressing down. And yet, Nathan groaned with a long string of frantic ‘Okay, okay, okay’

Slackening the grip, Nathan gulped down air with frenzied worry. In and out, it took a moment for his breathing to resemble something more natural.

He began talking, taking a moment in between thoughts. Mika could see the machinations whirring away in his head. “While… I have a high level of certainty that you wouldn't harm me, the body can't help but react to the presence of a threat to integrity.”

“A threat to integrity.” Mika smirks. “That's dramatic. But how can you be so certain I wouldn't harm you?”

The hands tightened again, this time with real force. It was a methodical grip. Applying pressure to the sides of the throat, but allowing the windpipe free passage. Pale skin turned peach, pink, red. Salty beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

And yet, Nathan has the nerve to smirk, even with his face contorting into a wince, pulse straining.

“‘Cause I'm useful to you.”

“Not wrong.” The fingers softened, just a nudge. Enough for the man to take a loud gasp for air, not knowing he wasn't lacking any. Mika continued, “But what will happen once you aren't?”

One claw racked skin.

It's easy, so easy to break the surface. Mika dragged his thumb, leaving beading drops of blood on its wake. The scent of iron, an edge breaking through the comforting murmur of the forest.

Nathan flinched, a split-second of panic in his factions. Shoulder tendons taut. A halt to breathing. Not daring to move an inch. His heart ran, galloping, a terrified deer scrambling to get away.

Mika uttered half a snort, the precursor for a wild stream of laughter. He released Nathan, dropping limp beside the man. Leaves and dust billowed around them as Mika still bubbled with mirth.

“You're fucking nuts, you know that?” Mika told Nathan, grabbing the side of his head. His digits worked with a foreign tenderness. Soft nudges a far cry from whatever had left the angry red marks around Nathan’s throat.

“Says you,” Nathan coughed out, allowing the handling.

Mika fished out a couple of items from one of his pants pockets. Holding Nathan’s ear away, he sprayed hand sanitizer over the long scratch. The man hissed, flinching at the sting. Despite the neutral expression trained on his face, his breathing was frantic. Long, deep breaths, pulse a blazing breeze.

“Stay still, my squishy little beet,” Mika giggled, drying off the liquid with fanning motions of his hand. Placing a collage of adhesive bandages, he then patted the area with small nods of approval. A job well done. “You’re such a good little patient.”

“Shut up.” Nathan pushed Mika’s hands away. He took the opportunity to sit, dragging the hoodie up and off his back. The rear of his white shirt was sodden with sweat, holding onto the stench of fear.

“I could have killed you, y'know.” Mika stated, trailing a finger through the translucent fabric. Since they had met, Nathan’s figure had changed quite a bit. Still blanketed in a layer of fat, but there was strength to be found between the curves of his spine.

“Could have killed me—as if that wasn’t the case every day. So what?” The claim was accompanied with bored resignation. Nathan made the motion to grab his phone, hand hovering over his pocket. But his mind caught up to his actions. Mika had mentioned several times his distaste towards distractions. Deflecting the move, he instead furthered the point, “If you wanted me gone so bad, it wouldn't be dragged out as much.”

“No?” Mika questioned, massaging the small of Nathan's back. The motion got interrupted with the man laying down, using his hoodie as a mat. He grabbed Nathan's hand, then, opting to play with the pronounced veins at the back. Staring at the violet vessels, he grinned. “How do you know I'm not toying with my prey?”

Without missing a beat, Nathan replied. “You are a lazy bastard.”

Mika exhaled with faint offense. Him, lazy? Sounded about right.

“I have flown tens of thousands of kilometers. I deserve to be lazy.”

That won an amused grunt from Nathan.

“Mika, who are you, really?”

“A government-sponsored bed warmer,” he muttered, closing his eyes. Metal cold fingers interlaced with Nathan’s. Idly swishing their arms back and forth, enjoying the feel of the wind with every swing.

“A bed warmer hiding from the authorities.” Nathan stopped the movement, dragging their joined hands closer to his chest. “Which could also run away at any time, if he hated bed warming so much. So why hasn’t he?”

“Maybe I’m curious about how vast the stupidity of some adult human males can be.”

“I hope the research is providing fruitful results.”

“Very!”

Nathan punched out with his free hand, softly hitting Mika’s keel. He only laughed in return.

“No, but I'm serious.” Nathan attempted to drive the conversation back on track, tugging on Mika's hand as if it would help to set their thoughts closer. “Will I ever get to know how you ended up on this side of the mountains?”

“Are you trying to figure out if I'm a Tarrukar agent, again?” Mika sighed, sliding his hand away.

“Well, are you? It's hard not to speculate when you won't concede anything.”

From the corner of his eye, it was easy to notice Nathan staring at him. A lingering red still stuck to his features, yet the exhausted lilac around his eyes was conspicuous once again. He pushed his glasses up with a finger, an act he had been repeating continuously. Perhaps as the sweat kept sliding them off. But more likely, an anxious habit.

“For the record, I am not an agent,” Mika groaned.

Nathan kept his mannerisms tight under wraps. His moves were often calculated. Sluggish, sometimes, but always with a premeditated finality to them. Almost like a machine. But he could be read. Spending so many days, hours together, Mika had learned the tunes that made the man move.

The push of his glasses had been gentle. Almost an afterthought. A legitimate softness.

“But alright, fine. Ask away.” Mika did a waving motion with his hand, throwing caution to the air. “Maybe you'll manage to get a nugget of truth out.” He then leaned back, hands behind his head, idly humming the one song he had had stuck for the past few days. Quick tempo, a gorgeous melody, a collection of synths that had an airy twang to them. His eyes closed, focusing on the vibrations that surrounded him.

“So, you’re a stray, yeah?” Nathan began, testing the waters.

“Obviously.”

“For how long?”

“More than eleven months.” That was about the span of time that marked the previous winter; during the month of Iontu. A frigid time of the year. The creeks had freezed over, prey had been scarce. A deep seated shame still lingered in his belly; the knowledge that if it hadn’t been for that reckless human feeding him scraps, he might have starved to death.

“Right.” Nathan muttered, exasperated. “What Trust Rank were you?”

Eyes open suddenly, Mika winced with the sudden explosion of light.

“Now, what the hell would you know about that thing?” He interrogated back, side-eyeing Nathan.

“I’ve told you I lived in Tarrukar for most of my life. Hell, it should be obvious with my accent.”

It was. Nathan was—most likely— from the city of Coti, even if he had never mentioned the fact. Not only in his accent, but his preference for seafood. The enjoyment of spice. His musical choices. And pure probability, as the biggest firms of genetic tailors had their headquarters there.

But that still didn’t explain how he knew about the ranking system of Artes.

Except it did. While Nathan hadn’t been explicit about his childhood town, he had mentioned instances in which he had become close with Whirlwinds—and Coti had a huge population of those. Whirlwinds had such a lacking design among Stratos, having a good rank meant everything to them.

And indeed, Nathan explained somewhat the gist of that. A mix of Artes acquaintances, doing his own research. Fine.

“Well, I was a Sunflower Yellow.” Mika announced, head slumping back against his hands. He might have been a yellow at some point, but that was long, long ago. Definitely not the rank that he had been stuck with at the moment of his split.

Nathan was satisfied with the answer, as he finally broke off the intense eye contact. Now he was the one closing his eyes, a hand passing through his face and dragging the glasses off with it. Purposefully putting himself in danger, for Nathan was sightless as a bat without corrective tools. Aural feathers tilted in interest, each twitch altering the sounds that entered Mika’s ears. He came to notice the scent of ozone in the air, a metallic aftertaste at the back of his mouth. Too distant to worry about.

“Do you plan to stick around much longer?” Nathan asked. He stretched his neck one way and another, vertebrae creaking with the movements.

Mika hummed, thoughtful. How long was he planning to stay? It was a question that tumbled around his mind, too. Spiralling, over and over, a leaf lost in a storm. This is something they had already discussed, months ago. The conclusion had been ambiguous.

He had initially planned to stay around only enough to rob the man blind, quite literally. Food, clothing, and he’d be on his way.

Things escalated when the Braukar Military got involved. Nothing good ever came from government agencies. Days turned to weeks. He gained weight, strength. But most importantly, his mind took on the clarity he had abandoned for the sake of survival.

How willing was he to risk that?

So-called freedom hadn’t been the life he had expected. He did not miss the rainy evenings without shelter, the dozens of failed hunts, the boredom. There were bad things about his current living arrangements; yes, absolutely. But he had guaranteed food. He had access to a shower. And he had the space to think. What goals had he achieved since his split from Tarrukar? None, none until he had met Nathan. None, besides surviving another day.

Enough for wild animals, perhaps. But he deserved more. A creature designed down to its very flesh and bones deserved more than languishing in the sticks like any common predator.

No, he was meant for more. And Nathan had been one to recognize that.

“Why? Do you want me to stick around that much?” Mika asked.

Nathan cracked a smile, just for one second. A tiny curl to the border of his lips. A blink and Mika would have missed it.

“Who else is going to insist on breaking all my locks?”

“Get a bolt cutter, it stinks less.” Mika retorted, immediately. Copying the tone in which Nathan had uttered those same words in the past.

“Who is going to eat through all my groceries in one evening?”

“Get a dog. At least those can be trained.”

Now that did cause the peeling of lips. A bright smile, unimpeded by masks. The man inquired once more with mock dramatics. “Oh, but who will cover every single millimetre of my room with feathers?”

“Exploding a pillow would cause the same results and be more entertaining.”

“I did not say ‘cause’. It was ‘generate,” Nathan interjected, luminous and bewildering amusement in his tone. The wrinkle in his brow took on a new curve. “But fine, okay. I do not hate the thought of having you stick around. But, y’know, it’s up to you. If you plan to leave, I have contacts. You would have an easier time finding shelter. We could prepare non-perishables—”

“I have no intentions of leaving my favourite beet, not for now.”

A pause, a silence, one that should have been filled with a disgusted noise. Instead, it followed with a question.

“You don’t?” There was an edge of something sweet, a caramel aftertaste.

“Well, you already described just how helpless you are without me.” Mika grinned, shaking Nathan’s shoulder. “It would be cruel to leave you at this point, hm?”

“How graceful of you,” the man replied in his usual deadpan, reacting to Mika’s movement like a limp sack of potatoes.

Mika leaned closer, letting the top of his head touch Nathan’s own. His whiskers swayed wrong. Too fast, even with the coverage of half-naked trees around them. And yet, there was a tension in his jaw. Sounds had turned duller. Just a smidge, not enough to cloak the presence of wildlife around them. But still, it was a telling signal.

“There’s something I still don’t get, though.” Nathan announced, breaking through Mika’s suspicions.

“Laid? Paid time off?”

“Shut up.” Whatever warmth had reached the man’s voice disappeared then. “How do you make an entire Cyclone disappear? Like—I can see a plausible event for Whirlwinds to escape, the government doesn't give a shit about those bastards. But how does a Cyclone get away?”

“Simple.”

Mika rolled to his side, tucking his wings and allowing them to push him forward. In one moment, he was inches away from Nathan’s face. And the next, his lips met his. A playful exchange of breaths, a tender touch, and it was over.

“You use a distraction.” Mika declared, leaning back and looking at the sleek phone in his hand.

As he entered the lengthy password, Nathan squinted at it. Once he opened the maps application, he could feel Nathan’s frown deepening, loudly prodding around his pockets.

Innocently, Mika asked, “Hey, shall we order some food home? I’m starving.”

Nathan snatched the phone away, his phone. Mika cackled, and used the opportunity to finally stand up. Dusting himself off, he stretched out a hand to Nathan.

“C’mon, there’s a storm coming. Let’s head home.”