"Give him back here. I'll do whatever you want," the cloud said, its voice low, laced with burning fury, though it carefully avoided overstating its position.
"Oh, you know this bee?"
"Yes, I do. He's my friend."
"I'm not," #212 buzzed faintly from within the bag it was trapped in. To #212's surprise, Isra understood it this time. She glanced briefly at both of them, then wordlessly placed #212 inside the box and left.
#212, keen on maintaining a healthy distance, scooted away from its companion, who stared back with a ridiculously amiable grin, seemingly ready to embrace him. The bee, however, stared into nothingness, resigned. Broken goggles. A wing nearly cracked in half. And now, stuck with this maniac of a cloud. Today had been a cascading series of unfortunate events, and this was by far the worst outcome.
"She is a devil, I tell you. She cannot be trusted," the cloud muttered anxiously.
"Uh-huh," #212 replied, its tone lifeless. What was life, anyway? It was headed for the same fate as its companions who had chosen suicide. The mission had already hollowed out whatever hope it had left.
"Ever since she kidnapped me, I've been tossed around. Disregarded. Uncared for. I mean, look at me, #212. Do I look ugly or rude? Look at me!"
#212 glanced at the cloud with exhausted eyes. If bees could have wrinkles, #212 would be carrying valleys of them.
Undeterred, the cloud rambled on, oblivious to #212's disinterest. "I am a talking cat that's also a cloud. How rare is that? I'm fluffy, cute, well-spoken, and delightful to look at. Everything a girl her age would want. And yet, I'm treated like dirt."
"We all are dirt," #212 mumbled under its breath, looking away. The mission had shattered its spirit.
Ever since Isra had captured the cloud, she hadn't really had the time to sit down and talk to it. She wasn't sure what the cloud—or cat—or whatever it was thought of her. To it, she must have seemed like a monster.
"Well, to be fair, I did bite him and eat him a little," she thought, sighing. "What could go wrong if I just talked to him?"
It was late at night, and while most would be asleep, Isra—like the other nocturnal beings of the night—was wide awake. Earlier, she had been rummaging through the fridge when a faint buzzing sound had distracted her. To her surprise, the tiny survivor bee was sitting atop the clamps of the cloud's container. She had caught it.
Isra now sat cross-legged on the floor, the box in front of her.
"Listen, cloud," Isra began, her tone flat.
The cloud looked up, unamused.
"I'm not as bad as you think I am."
In response, the cloud banged its fluffy paws against the walls of the container, though the motion produced no sound.
"What are you, demon child?" it growled, its voice surprisingly beautiful yet dripping with disdain. "You're undoubtedly the worst creature on this Earth, and I've traveled far and wide, seen things you can't imagine. But you…"
The cloud shuddered. A few colorful crystals fell from its back, along with a small drizzle of rain.
"Not this again," #212 groaned, shrinking into the farthest corner of the box, visibly disgusted by the gleaming crystals.
"Look, you misunderstand me. All I wanted was for the clouds to adopt me. I don't have friends here… I'm sorry if I hurt you."
Isra's voice cracked, and tears rolled down her pale cheeks.
The cloud recoiled slightly. Even #212 looked at her now, its usual apathy replaced with a flicker of curiosity.
"Is it too much to ask for? Just a friend, cloud. My sisters treat me like dirt. My mother hates me. Me and Khadija… we roam the streets, searching for stray kittens just to get a chance to pet them. Just once, to hear them meow. Our lives are so sad..."
She paused to blow her leaky nose into her shirt. #212 cringed visibly.
"Is it too much to ask for?!" Isra exclaimed, her red, tear-filled eyes pleading.
The cloud was shaken. It hadn't expected such raw emotion.
"Look, Isra," it said gently, moving closer to the edge of the container. "Just unlock me, okay? And listen—you can't just get a pet like that. You need to see if they're willing to be adopted by you."
The logic struck Isra like a thunderclap. Maybe kidnapping, eating, and locking up the cloud hadn't been the right approach.
Cautiously, she unlocked the container.
A moment later, the cloud floated out, hovering above her head. It looked majestic—its emerald eyes were pools of ever-changing light, and its flowing, mist-like body radiated beauty. Isra gasped, taking in the full sight of it for the first time.
"I can't give you what you're looking for," it said. "But maybe, just this once, I'll let you pet me."
Isra nodded eagerly. The idea of touching something so beautiful, so soft, was too wonderful to refuse.
"Thank you," she whispered as she embraced the cloud, rubbing her cheeks against its misty body. It felt like heaven itself. Drool pooled in her mouth as she remembered its taste but resisted, unwilling to ruin the perfect moment.
The cloud, purring softly, closed its eyes. But it suddenly recoiled, the mist swirling angrily around it. Purring was apparently too embarrassing. Regaining its composure, it spoke again.
"Now open the window, Isra. Let us both go. And I promise, you'll find a really good kitten friend soon."
"Before you go, can you at least tell me your name?"
"#212. My name is #212," the bee buzzed weakly from behind. Isra smiled politely at it, then looked back at the cloud.
"Call me… Baadal Billi," it said.
And with that, Baadal Billi, with #212 perched on its back, drifted out into the night.
Isra watched them go, tears streaming down her face.
And thus, the chapter of imprisonment and struggles ended. Baadal Billi was free. #212 was battered but functioning. And Isra?
She grinned like a maniac, her eyes gleaming ominously. The plan had worked. The game was hers. Deep chuckles escaped her lips as she stared into the night where the cloud had disappeared.