Chapter Text
Of Orchids and Demons: Volume 2
Chapter 1:Monster men and broken wings
The air was stale in the small corner office, on the third floor of the unassuming building which served as home for the Nature Conservancy’s South American division in Ecuador. It was also the apartment of a botanist of some renown Hizashi Yamada. Dust motes caught in the light as Hizashi added the tiny amount of fluid his prized diminutive orchid required. This tiny orchid species is found exclusively in the shadow of a particular tepui straddling Guyana and Venezuela, the tepui which happens to be the home of a particular winged man named Shouta.
Being a unique specimen, Hizashi had been given the honor of naming it. He revealed the beauty at a meeting of the Nature Conservancy, a meeting that ultimately led to the area surrounding the tepui to be deemed a forest preserve. This status protected the area from further encroachment from farming, logging or other industrial endeavors, permanently. The name he chose was Myoxanthus shoutariensis in honor of the gift giver he met nearly three years ago.
How he managed to keep the fragile beauty alive was a wonder to Hizashi. Despite being a botanist, he had a notoriously black thumb. The scientist wiped tears threatening to fall onto the mound of paperwork accumulating on his desk. The weeks he spent there with Shouta were life altering. Meeting a winged man from and entirely different family of Homo sapiens was remarkable. Being unable to return again due to fear for his friend’s very life was torture. Hizashi had only his visual recollection of his friend, the orchid and a braid of hair as memories of his friend. Any photo, drawing or reference to Shouta might threaten his very existence.
Hizashi sighed, resigned to remain in love with a memory.
The door slammed and the papers on Hizashi’s desk not nestled under Shouta’s geode took flight as Nemuri Kayama burst into the room. “Hiza, you are not going to believe this shit” as she tossed a pamphlet on the startled man’s desk. “If this is real….” Kayama remarked pointing the pamphlet, throwing down her briefcase.
Nemuri and Hizashi had been friends since high school. They both were rabid environmentalists from early on. Hizashi chose the science route, becoming a botanist to help preserve the rainforests and other unique environments. Nemuri, chose the path of a lawyer and activist. Her persuasive, confrontational nature and over the top sexuality, were the stuff of legend. Today she wore an almost-there short linen skirt with matching sheer sleeveless blouse. Of course, the blouse was unbuttoned to spillage. An enameled orchid pin which would have made Georgia O’Keefe blush, in it’s not too subtle homage to womanhood, decorated her right breast.
Hizashi sighed, returned the orchid to its greenhouse and lumbered over to his desk.
“Thinking about Mr. Handsome flyboy again?” Nemuri remarked with some uncharacteristic sympathy in her voice as she moved to give Hizashi’s shoulders a rub. This was answered with a sigh.
Hizashi entrusted Shouta’s existence with only two other persons on the planet. Nemuri was one. They worked together tirelessly to get the protected status for Shouta’s forest and home. Nemuri doing all of it pro bono. When Hizashi nearly collapsed from exhaustion during this time, Nemuri demanded to know why this particular project nearly drove the blonde to his own demise. When she found out about Shouta she too worked tirelessly to completion.
The door burst open a second time, again sending the papers flying. Oboro Shirakumo was the other person with whom Shouta’s existence was entrusted. The burly man with his broad smile, matching shoulders and unruly puff of hair proceeded to lay out an impromptu dinner. “Nem said to get food for a long night, and I couldn’t decide on sushi, tapas or pizza so you have your choice.”
The Shirakumo family had moved from Japan to Guayaquil, Ecuador two generations ago. Oboro’s great-grandparents saw the Galapagos islands for the ecological gems they were and positioned themselves to provide some environmentally conscious means to visit them. Catamarans were well suited to the rough waters during the island crossings. The maritime winds provided the sails with quiet, clean power. The well-appointed staterooms, gourmet chefs and naturalist guides made the Shirakumos' eco tours wildly popular and lucrative. Oboro met Hizashi at college where he too majored in biology and environmental stewardship to continue the family business consistent with its eco-conscious roots.
Hizashi gasped and dropped the mug he was holding as he lifted the pamphlet Nemuri placed on his desk. The pamphlet advertised an “oddities” type attraction for limited engagement in a small neighboring town. Advertised was the typical bearded woman, dog faced boy but on the final page was a “devil girl.” In the image was a small girl of around 5, Hizashi guessed. She looked thin, scared, hollow eyed with a tiny protuberance on her forehead which may have been a horn. As Hizashi continued to stare mouth agape, Oboro took the pamphlet and without question Oboro saw the young girl was winged.