Love is just for all those who are the same

There was this song bird.

It was the class pet.

Everyone cooed at it and threw bird seeds at its desolate form within its cage. It was a little over pitiful and a little less than downright pathetic in Hana's eyes.

One day, the bird accidentally gets out of its cage. It flies far, soaring and moving among the wind's currents.

They don't see it for so long that, when it came back, few recognized its small quivering form. It didn't help that it was half covered in bandages.

Some kids from class spotted it, somehow remembering the poor little thing in their short attention addled mind, one of them getting it down from the tree it perched itself on. By throwing a rock.

Children. Such detestable creatures, thinks Hana as she looks at the crowd around the boy who, with his saving pitch, brought the little song bird home. Indeed, the hero of class 4-B.

Hana thinks she just threw up a little inside her mouth.

She glances at the pitiful bird, quiet in its little corner in the cage, folded upon itself.

The bird doesn't sing, in the first few weeks it came back, which causes the class to lose interest in it quickly. It's well fed, notably, since the students on duty seemed to take feeding the thing seriously. Or so she thought.

She heard it sing, the morning of her duty. She had yet to feed it, barely turning the corner to approach the classroom door, its crooning a pleasant surprise first thing in the morning. What comes after, not so much.

The tall boy with the 'saving pitch' and another short one were around it, seemingly coaxing sweet sounds from the little bird's beak. Its feed and water has already been replaced.

Giving ilness, then giving the cure, is it?

How unpleasant.

Children are so very twisted. She skips her duties that day.

She gives the bird chances to escape, with the same small rusted key she'd snuck that first time. Each and everytime, it always came back, on its own.

Truly a spectacularly stupid bird. Not worth Hana's time. Not worth saving.

Its been years and yet Hana keeps landing her gaze on that caged bird.

"Hey, Kyoko."

"Hm?" Comes her noncommittal response, busy detangling yarn strings.

"There was a song bird. The one that died, back in elementary." She picks up a paperback, carefully treading her fingers along its worn spine, careful to keep her eyes on the creased cover, "The one Tsuna needlessly cried over," she stops for a beat, "what was its name?"

Hana hears a clatter, presumably Kyoko putting a pause to her futile efforts in knitting. She hears her hum.

"I remember, Tsuna-kun had been really sad. It was sad." She pauses, and then continues with an odd lilt to her voice, "Her name was Kyoko. Named after me,"

Kyoko chuckles a bit but it felt as if there was more to be said.

An appropriate name, Hana couldn't help but think.

From a caged bird to another, Hana thinks, as she observes Kyoko fumble to answer her phone, letting balls of entangled yarn and her stitching needles fall to the ground.

She keeps the thought in mind, even as Kyoko hurriedly tells her that she needs to leave to meet Kensuke, messily stuffing all of her things back into her purse, all running legs and hurried goodbyes.

Indeed. Caged birds...were they even worth saving?

A/N: Chapter title taken from Wiing Wiing by Hyukoh.