Xisuma was not very excited about being called to the principal's office twice within the same week. Parrot didn't tell him about anything bad that he did nor something he needed an adult to properly cover up. Then again, he did return a bit disheveled and drenched in cold sweat, so something must've happened while he was out with his friends.

Truth be told, Xisuma isn't the most fond of the people the boy hangs around. In his book, they're all bad influences and Parrot is following in their footsteps with his threatening gun violence. There was one instance when he caught the boy chatting with a teenager double his height down the street and it was easy to tell that it wasn't simple chit-chat flowing between them.

Parrot didn't tell him who the teen was but he'd find out eventually. That red suit and equally red hair would be hard to miss.

Anyway, the reason he was called was because of a broken window. A window that was broken by a football hitting it too hard. Xisuma was impressed that someone managed to kick a ball so hard that it shattered a double-glazed window on the first floor. He knew Parrot couldn't kick that well, having hollow bones that were fickle and easily damaged, so it was easy to tell that he was a mere scapegoat.

At least, I was an easy fix. Xisuma offered to replace the window himself during class time, hoping that his willingness would shine some light on Parrot. The principal, while apprehensive at first, agreed after some consideration and further persuasion by the voidwalker.

It wasn't the first time he replaced a window. Having to look after young, rowdy, troublemaker Xanthus had its perks. Replacing their neighbor's backyard window when a ball would mysteriously find itself inside the house was a common occurrence.

With that, he called his work and told his boss that he'd be a little late. By 'late' he meant at least one hour. Thankfully, his boss was understanding, though Xisuma lied about why he would be late.

He wrote down dimensions, went to the store and returned with his toolkit in hand. One of the teachers was kind enough to help him carry the glass panes up the flight of stairs.

Whilst he worked on replacing the shattered pieces, Pearl –a dear friend of his and the school's cleaning lady– passed by. She stuttered in her walking, antennae twitching, broom almost falling from her hands by seeing him sitting on top of the cabinet next to the wall.

"What are you doing 'ere?", she asked curiously, though Xisuma could hear her knowing smile even with his back turned to him.

She was one of two that knew of his newly adopted son with an interest in firearms. The other one was Grian and he only learnt of all that because Xisuma wasn't sure what avians could eat.

"Just replacing a window", he answered, looking over his shoulder for a moment, chuckling. "Apparently, Parrot broke it yesterday."

"I don't know how the kids managed to do that but I gave them a nice, ol' scolding for causing property damage", the cleaning lady said with an amused grin on her face, giant, moth wings fluttering against her back like a cape.

"Did you see who it actually was?"

A hum came before the answer.

"I didn't but Mr. Marriott insists it was Parrot with his feeble avian legs. Obviously, it wasn't him; he only came inside to retrieve their football", a pause, "The rest of the kids were outside."

Internally, Xisuma sighed. He doesn't know Marriott very well but that first time he was called in, he could tell that the teacher wasn't very fond of the avian. It also didn't help that Parrot had the aura of a delinquent stuck on him like gorilla glue despite his innocent, feathered face.

"Were none of them from this school?", he asked, just to know who Parrot was hanging out with.

"I think there were one or two from here and some who graduated last year", Pearl replied, "They don't cause trouble, though, so I don't shoo them. Yesterday was an accident."

"If you say so", Xisuma said. He'd ask Parrot about it later. He sighed, troubled, finally getting the new window in place. "Pearl, can I ask a favor?"

"Oh? What's the matter?", Pearl asked curiously. Xisuma turned to face her, adjusting the mask on his face.

"A few days ago, there were some kids picking on Parrot", he explained, wisely leaving out the part of Parrot planning to stab said kids, "Could you keep an eye out?"

Pearl grinned, revealing rows of sharp teeth. Her antennae twitched again, the hairs lining them fluttering like feathers. Her grip on the broom tightened and Xisuma had to admit that he was a little scared.

"Oh, I will. "

He didn't doubt that one bit.

Later, Xisuma is at work. The caféis slowly filling up as the last of the take-out orders take their leave and he can already tell that it'll be a long day. His colleague hasn't arrived yet, though the boss said they'd come in a little later than anticipated.

That leaves Xisuma to deal with the morning rush all by himself. It's tiring; making coffees, taking orders, calling out names, all while running around to not keep customers waiting. It's not the easiest job, especially since the café is a hang out spot for the students of the local high school.

The line of customers is starting to thin, letting the man take a breather whilst the filter coffee machine is working. His moment of peace is cut short, however, when he hears a bang coming from the entrance.

The woman waiting at the register is already rolling her eyes at the door. Looking at said glass door, Xisuma sees Parrot stumbling inside with a hand rubbing at his forehead and another kid holding the door open for him. He holds in his amusement.

"Here you are", he gives the woman her coffee and she pays and leaves.

By then, Parrot has recovered, standing on his toes to peak over the counter. The other kid next to him is taller, peering at the biscuit display without issue. His skin is as dark as a moonless night, though his equally dark hair hold a natural texture and shine, a rainbow bandana holding long bangs from falling into glowing, white eyes. The neon outline of his black clothes are the only thing proving that he isn't just a shadow.

"Who is your friend?", Xisuma asks, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. He can't tell what expression the boy wears, seeing as the only feature he can distinguish are his eyes that are wide and staring at him.

"This is Spoke!", Parrot chirps, face remaining neutral but excitement seeping into his voice anyway. "He is my best friend!"

Ah, that explains the excitement. Though, the name sounds a little strange; it makes him wonder where the kid is from.

"Oh, it's nice to meet you, Spoke. My name is Xisuma, I'm Parrot's dad. Are you from the same class?", he asked. Spoke blinked.

"I don't go to school."

Alright, then. Xisuma doesn't know if he should be concerned about this or not. Mostly, he's worried about what sort of influence Spoke has on Parrot. The education of a fellow kid comes second when you have a murder-happy twelve-year-old bossing you around.

"I see", he says, trying not to sound pitying. He turns to Parrot. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

Parrot should be in school at this time. Sure, it's the last period now but that doesn't mean that he should skip it. Xisuma has never heard of children skipping Primary of all things but then again, he hadn't heard of children wielding guns up till a week or so ago.

"I got bored", Parrot shrugs. "So I got Spoke and we came for snacks."

Oh, he forgot. Parrot doesn't need to be influenced to do something he shouldn't.

Sighing, Xisuma points to an empty table.

"Sit and I'll see what I can do."

The two boys run off to the table and take their seats, Parrot tossing his bag to the floor. Xisuma catches Spoke glancing at him a few times as they whisper to each other. The fact that they aren't speaking loudly sticks out to Xisuma; children usually don't know how to keep their voice down. He should be worried about that, shouldn't he? About what they're whispering about; for all he knows, they have a bomb in their hands.

Choosing not to ponder on it, he returns to his work. A few biscuits and two juice bottles should tie them over until lunch time –which is approaching now that he looks at the time! Well, the boys are probably going to be running around the neighborhood and Parrot will surely return home hungry, so he doesn't see a reason not to fit something extra into their bag. Quickly paying for everything at the register, he grabs a packet of mixed nuts and drops it in alongside the rest of the paper packs.

When he looks up, he sees Spoke grinning with sharp teeth, elbowing Parrot, who seems somewhat bored. He smiles at them underneath the mask and the former blinks, the grin minimizing. It's nice to see Parrot not causing trouble, even if that is only because he's been promised snacks.

"Come get your food, boys!", he calls for them, earning a couple of questioning looks from the customers sitting closest to the counter. The two don't waste time running to him, Parrot hauling his bag over his shoulder and chasing after Spoke. The shadow boy pulls the bag off the wooden countertop with greedy hands.

Neither thank him. Xisuma didn't expect them to. The way they both smile at the goodies inside the branded, plastic bag warms his heart a little. Parrot, as he'd predicted, immediately pulls out the nuts.

"Parrot, be back home for lunch, okay?", he urges the kid because he knows that at this rate, he and his friend could spend the evening doing who-knows-what in the streets.

The boys hold a silent conversation between themselves, through eye contact alone.

"Spoke is coming too."

That is totally fine. Better than worrying if the child will be kidnapped or wrangled into some shady deal by the people he hangs out with.

"Sure.", he replies in a manner that solidifies Parrot's order into a question. He ignores the glare the kid throws him, dismissing it with a smile. "And be more careful with the ball next time!"

Ripping the bag of nuts open with his teeth, Parrot begins walking to the exit with a look that could kill. Spoke is hot on his heels.

"Your dad is super cool!", Xisuma hears the boy whisper-yell and he can't help but feel like that Spoke kid isn't as bad as he thought him to be. Perhaps, he misjudged him. Parrot shrugs, popping a snack into his mouth.

"I guess."

"We should come here more often for the free cookies! We could also sneak in a rat..."

And, nevermind, he did not misjudge the boy one bit. Though, pranking tendencies aside, he seems somewhat nice, so Xisuma will let it be for now.

Another bang and an angry whine of pain makes him need to stifle his laughter as Parrot, once again, has accidentally smacked his head against the glass door. Spoke bursts into laughter despite the various annoyed child-curses that fly his way. They must be best friends.

When they get back home in the afternoon, the first thing Parrot notes is the absence of a certain adult. There is no one in the kitchen, despite Xisuma's shift having ended about an hour ago. Where is he? He looks around the living room for a moment as Spoke vanishes into the floor. A shadow on the ground, quickly slithering between the bedrooms past the hallway, is the only evidence of where his friend is.

"All rooms are clear!", Spoke shouts out from somewhere within said rooms. The avian moves to the kitchen, looking at the fridge for any new notes that Xisuma might've left. He's probably out for groceries or something.

There is no note stating this but where else could he be?

"Parrot! There is a red light blinking at me!"

That piques his interest. He follows Spoke's voice to Xisuma's room, his white eyes locking onto the aforementioned blinking red light. It's the landline phone signaling that there is a voice message pending.

Without any hesitation, he presses the voicemail button and the light stops blinking but persists on remaining red. The volume of the speaker is loud enough for both of them to hear Xisuma's voice come through.

"Hey, mate! I'm sorry but I won't make it home for lunch, the boss has asked me to work overtime. There are some leftovers from yesterday in the fridge for you and Spoke, just don't burn the house down until I get back! – a chuckle– I'll be back in the afternoon, don't worry– Oh, I need to go. Bye!"

The telephone beeps thrice at the end and the light shuts off.

"That explains it", Spoke comments after a moment. Parrot, visibly more relaxed with this news, lowers his wings, the tips of the cyan and yellow feathers brushing the floor.

"Yeah", he nods his head. "Let's go grab those leftovers!"

"Do you know how the microwave works?"

"No, do you?"

"No!"

"Eh, we'll figure it out. It looks easy!"

Using the microwave proved to be a bit perplexing but Parrot is nothing if not persistent! Sure, the curry popped and sizzled behind the glass as the plate turned and turned for a long, long time but it got the job done! Spoke had to drag him away from the microwave to not injure himself when trying to open the machine and he also had to tell him that there was glass there, though Parrot had guessed as much thanks to the dark tint and the weird, floating, black lines.

They ate like royalty, in his opinion. Curry was perhaps the best thing Xisuma had ever cooked; the man had pulled this face of absolute bliss when he made some for Parrot to try the other day. Parrot couldn't have hid his own face of contentment if he tried; it's that good.

The TV is quickly turned on afterwards, already tuned into a cartoon program as the (licked clean) plates are abandoned on the kitchen table. They still have some snacks left, so they make a mess of biscuit crumbs on the couch cushions, where they huddle whilst watching Pokemon.

Parrot should be doing his homework right now but he doesn't feel like sparing all those books a glance. School has been tough, completely new in the way it worked and overwhelming with its rules and "do" and "don't"s. An afternoon of relaxation was long overdue in his opinion.

The thing is that time passed but no voidwalker walked through the door. Look, Parrot doesn't get worried over little things like people going missing –everyone he knows disappears off the face of the earth here and there. Spoke was nowhere to be found for a whole three weeks a few months ago because he'd run into some trouble with a gang. Even Parrot had to take time to hide away from people like Reddoons –the teenager with the fancy, red suit and red hair.

Xisuma isn't like them , though. He's normal; a little weird with his proper, polite manners and fond eyes but normal . Parrot had done his research before cornering the guy and he knew that the man was clean of any dirt that could be found in the alleys.

That being said, he should be here –at his house– at this time. He should be here, tending to Parrot as their deal (his threats) sees to. Spoke pries his hand out of his mouth and Parrot blinks as he realizes that he was chewing on his thumb. He grimaces at the imprints of teeth on his finger.

"You okay, Parrot?", his friend asks. The boy shakes his head.

"He isn't here", he mutters mostly to himself as he brings his knees to his chest, hand twitching with the urge to chew on it again. His wings tense up at how empty the house feels. This isn't normal; Xisuma should be here . He can just feel a ball of something rise up his throat.

...Did Xisuma abandon him? The thought made him freeze in place, that ball in his throat choking him. A sob escaped him and he could just feel the edges of his eyes stinging with salt.

"Your dad?"

"I told you, he isn't my dad.", even though he acts like it . For some reason, that thought is painful.

Spoke knows what's up with the relationship between him and Xisuma and the first time Parrot told him, he wasn't too pleased with the news. They're both protective of each other, so it's only natural.

The free treats have certainly changed Spoke's mind, though.

"Riiiight. Maybe he left another voicemail?", with that said, Spoke disappears into the floor again, shadow slithering off to the office. Parrot hastily follows. There is no red light nor are there any beeping noises.

"Where is he?", Parrot says in annoyance.

"Maybe he's still at the café? He said he's working overtime.", Spoke suggests and, yeah, that's probably where he is. Working overtime, right. The café closes at around nine and it is currently a few hours before then. He can wait. Maybe.

Nevermind, he can't wait.

"Come on.", he doesn't need to say more for Spoke to follow him out the door, grabbing his school bag and putting his gun in there on the way out.