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"Yukio… he’s beautiful."
The small parrot cocked his head to the side, beady eyes flashing under the warm lights of this strange place. Gone were the bright fluorescents and the rapping of glass. Just a gentle man who had kept him wrapped in that soft, grey jacket.
"I need you to take care of him for me. I’m afraid I might not be able to keep track of this little guy during practice."
There was another human there, this one much louder than the one that had kept him wrapped in that jacket. The parrot took notice of the man’s tufts of hair that sprung and coiled in all sorts of directions from his head. It reminded him of the nests he rested in as a much smaller parrot chick. It was probably just as comfortable to lay in.
"M-Me? Of course! Anything for you!"
Oh, the gentle man was handing him off to the nest-haired man. His hands were much coarser and timid. Where the older man held the parrot with a strong grip, the younger one could barely keep him from flapping his wings.
"What's the little guy's name?"
The bird nest suddenly spoke quietly, fondly stroking the parrot’s small, feathery crest. Man, that sure felt really good. Maybe he won’t be too bad of a human to follow around.
"Hm? Well, I was thinking on my way back to the dorms, and I thought we could name him Kamekichi."
What sort of human name is Kamekichi? Well, he could live with the name as long as he was paid his due fee of saltine crackers. He rarely got a taste of the salted bread in that dreadful glass enclosure, he sure hoped he got a few more in this new home.
///
“You’re strange, little buddy.”
Kamekichi scurried to the very edge of his stand to intently watch his caretaker, the ‘Matsukawa’ fellow, prepare his plate of salted crackers all the way in the kitchen.
“Strange little buddy!”
“That’s right. You’ve got those beautiful wings! It’s a shame you can’t fly too far.”
Kamekichi lifted his right wing, the uneven edge of his feathers only apparent when fully extended. It was a shame he never learned to fly as a parrotlet. Once he arrived here with the gentle man, the parrot had tried over and over to travel more than a meter or two, but he could barely glide over to the other side of the room, leaving him to cry out on the floor until one of the men that resided in the dorm took pity on him and scooped him up off the floor and back onto his little stand.
Maybe this bird just wasn't meant to fly.
“A shame!”
“Maybe if you could fly you could help us find Yukio!”
That was the gentle man, if Kamekichi recalled correctly. It has been a week or two since he had seen him around, which was a pity, since he always seemed to have a pack of crackers in his pocket whenever he passed.
“Yukio!”
Mastukawa sighed as he walked over to Kamekichi, placing the plate of crackers right next to his water bowl. The parrot hopped down, enraptured by the yeastless temptation, and began to peck at the crumbly treat.
“I’d give up anything to be able to fly like you, little guy. Maybe then I would have been able to follow Yukio out that day. Keep the fights from ever happening.”
The young man longingly stroked Kameichi’s back. He ruffled his wings in response, Matsukawa might as well fix his feathers while he's at it.
“Hopefully this comes to pass and we’ll be able to return to normal, little buddy."
Kamekichi has only been here for a few weeks. What does he know? The normal here has been tense standoffs and arguments, frustration and sadness. Guilt and remorse.
They probably just miss the gentle man. But he'll probably return. Birds always manage to find their way back to their own homes, why can't this human?
///
Kamekichi couldn't help but sing as his feet left the table. He was flying, all on his own. The edge to his feathers has finally been lost and he could soar around the empty dorms as he pleased.
Of course, Matsukawa didn't participate in this celebratory song. He didn't really do much, these past few months. Where before he ran place to place trying to do everything at once, the bird nest now could barely get off the couch, only doing so to replace the parrot's water and bedding.
The human barely took care of himself.
Kamekichi took flight and soared towards the man, landing by his head. He nudged the man's head, squawking with concern.
"Manager is tired!"
Matsukawa merely groaned.
Kamekichi did not take being ignored well, instead hopping down onto Matsukawa's shoulder, pecking at his cheek. The man sighed as he lowered Kamekichi down onto his lap.
"What do you want?"
"Miserable Manager!"
"Geez, I know I'm miserable, there's no need to rub it in."
Kamekichi pulled at Matsukawa's ragged shirt sleeve.
"I see your point. But what's the rush when no one's around to see it? I can't spare the little company funds left for new clothes."
The parrot didn't seem to care, continuing to nibble and pull on the edge of the manager's sleeve. Matsukawa couldn't help but envy the bird, a creature that didn't have to worry over too many things.
Just food, water, shelter, and staying wary of danger.
Kamekichi didn't have to worry of the rapidly decreasing funds the company had left in reserve before ceasing their performances. Nor the constant barrage of questions from the troupe's fans asking for the actors. Hell, he didn't even have to worry about himself, Matsukawa does most of the worrying for him.
Stroking the parrot's odd feathers, Matsukawa reflected on his short time with Yukio. He was younger than most of the actors at the time—just now entering his twenties—and only recently joined the company. The only person related to Mankai that was remotely close to his age was…
"Sakyo! That's it!"
Kamekichi squawked and flapped out of the way as Matsukawa stood up and reached for his green jacket, With a wide stride and a glint in his eye, the manager moved to the front door for the first time in several days, throwing his wrinkled jacket on.
"I'll be right back, Kamekichi! Don't take any of the saltines!"
"Crackers!"
Matsukawa exited without another word, and Kamekichi was finally, truely, alone.
Flapping his wings, the parrot flew up to the dining table. A few weeks ago, an empty table was a rare occurrence, not the everyday. While Kamekichi was simple-minded, he hoped that with that bird nest at the helm, maybe one day the dining table would be occupied once again.
And Kamekichi could finally eat saltine crackers to his little heart's content.