17 | stones and glass houses

                                    

                                          
Air found Api sitting by the dining room later in the morning, the former still clad in oversized penguin pajamas with a plushie in hand. Api hadn't noticed him enter – his attention entirely focused on the multicolored braid he was weaving, a vast variety of bands laid out across the dining table.
Huh. Api never really struck Air as the crafty type. Then again, he wasn't that close with Api to begin with. Sure, they shared a bunk and a room, and they occasionally bonded over their human heritage in the station – but that was about it. They never really sat down properly and had a chat about their feelings or hobbies.
"Oh – Air," Api stuttered, pulling Air from his thoughts. "I... didn't hear you come in."
Air shook his head. "It's fine," he said, giving the equipment on the table a onceover. It was those cheap, mass-produced plastic looms marketed towards children to make colorful wristbands that'd snap in an hour. If his memory served him right, he didn't remember Api packing a kid's braiding set when they made the trip back to Earth. "Where'd you get this?"
However Api was already halfway through shoving his entire project back into the crumpled cardboard box the set came packaged with, whistling loudly to drown out Air's curiosity. "Get what? I don't see anything." He grabbed the clear pieces of plastic and stuffing them in his pockets. "There's nothing here. No stupid bracelets, no rainbow unicorns, and certainly no headless children!"
Api took a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling as the tips of his ears flushed cherry red. "You. Saw. Nothing."
Air casted a glance between the fridge, the clearing table, then back to the fridge. Out of all of them, he wasn't one to pry into others' secrets – considering the majority of the people around him had some type of unspeakable trauma that they'd rather die than shed some light on their past, but there was a line between "I killed all my friends and family because of a power I can't control" and "I peed my pants when I was in elementary school because I was too shy to tell the teacher I needed the loo." 
He'd prefer if Api's little hobby fell into the latter category. Because if not, they're going to have real awkward conversations about colorful minibands and friendship bracelets if they made the decision to attend group therapy.
"What are you doing up at this hour?" Api quizzed, still sporting a face full of blush. "Where's Daun and Cahaya?"
Air opened the fridge to reveal the residue of their pasar malam trip: unfinished fried squid, curry packets, fruit and homemade syrup or jam. Most of them belonged to Gempa and Taufan, where they bought too much food that they couldn't even finish it.
He grabbed one of the apples from the pile. "They're still asleep, I think." He shut the fridge, heading over to the sink to rinse the fruit. "You did spook them really badly earlier; and you know how much Cahaya frets about having a proper sleep schedule."
That was an understatement of the year. One time, Cahaya had curled up and decided that it was a mighty fine idea to take a nap in the vents of a murder-bot factory when he realized he'd gone 17 hours without sleep. (An hour too long without, apparently.) Taufan almost blew his cover when Air relayed the message because of his uncontrollable snorts.
Because really, only their mentor could laugh in the face of literal danger while surrounded by hundreds of deadly robots who could tear them apart in seconds.
"Ah." Api turned as white as a sheet. "He's going to kill me."
Air slid into the seat across Api. "Wrong," he deadpanned, biting into the apple. "He's more likely to perform a vivisection on you and steal your kidneys."
"That threat doesn't work on me." Api leaned back into his chair. "Because I have no idea what it means."
Even with all his stuff tucked away, he still looked uncomfortable, like he had no idea whether if he should remain seated in his chair or dart outside to continue. Air suppressed a sigh, chewing loudly.