A/N: Viewer discretion advised. Author uses extreme usage of literary freedom with the English language.I prefer using Touko and Touya over White/Black, or Hilda/Hilbert for some reason.
Also up to the reader whether or not full blown Touko x Touya or sibling love.
He remembers her quite well, despite the years of absence and lack of face-to-face contact.
He wonders blithely if she still remembers him.
"They said we'd look good together until I said we were siblings! You should've seen the look on their faces!"
"I can imagine, Touko."
His fingers tap the desk in front of him, a rhythm as constant as the thump of his heart. Brown hair gets in his eyes and he brushes it away irritably. He's due for a haircut, definitely.
"Touya! Too bad you can't grow your hair as long as mine~!"
"I wouldn't want hair as long as yours, silly."
The paper in front of him is devoid of pencil or pen marks, only straight green lines like pretty striped wallpaper. His finger taps a quicker beat the more he stares at the unwritten letter.
"Cursive is hard..."
"Your handwriting is just terrible, Touko."
The young man curses under his breath, five fingers clenching into a fist. Lightly pounding his hand against the table, he pushes the chair out from behind him, stands up and walks in a lazy circle, scratching his head.
He can't think about a topic to talk with his sister about. Pokemon? She's probably sick of being the Champion for years now, cursing his name for losing to her on that summit. Sick of watching kids' dreams fall like a broken-winged Pidgey, sick of having to gauge a trainer's skill. The itch on his head only grows stronger the more he scratches at it.
"Ack! Get the mosquitoes outta here, Touya!"
"H-hey, I'm getting assaulted too-"
His mind starts to wander, eyes floating outside to the clouds, but the ring of a bicycle draws him out of his reverie. Brown eyes soften and a fond smile blooms on his face.
He remembers her and how she never knew how to ride a bicycle until he showed her how. She was and is an adorable little sister.
"Oh man, I'm riding a bicycle, oh man, oh man-Aaaah!"
"Touko! Are you okay?!"
From outside, Bianca grabs onto Cheren's arm, pulling him back from entering the room. In a low, rushed whisper, she hisses, "He only smiles like that when he thinks about Touko."
"Does it make a difference, interrupting him when he's doing nothing and interrupting him when he's thinking about her?" Cheren adjusts his tie and stares down Bianca. She blinks, blushing, averting her gaze down, but just as quickly, she looks back up and continues tugging on his freshly ironed white dress shirt.
Cheren's frown widens as he sees wrinkles appear and quickly tries to correct them.
"He hasn't smiled like that for a year."
Touya turns, hearing the commotion, and his brown eyes widen at seeing his childhood friends bickering.
"Cheren? Bianca?" The two of them freeze like deer in headlights.
To them, Touya looks worn down and old, his eyes shadowed and his skin pale. His clothes are shabby for a former Champion, and he looks more like the shell of his former self.
Cheren's straightens up and brushes off Bianca's hands. His hands meticulously smooth out imperfections in his shirt a second time. "It's about time you contacted Touko. We all have and she misses you."
Touya's eyes brighten just a little more at the mention of his sister, but he still stands there, limp and unfeeling.
"I don't know what to say to her though-"
Cheren's blue eyes flash angrily as he cuts his childhood rival off.
"This isn't like the old you, Touya. You've changed, and for the worse. Get your act together, 'cause she's coming back tomorrow." And the door slams shut, leaving no Cheren and two shocked people.
Bianca fusses over him, blithering about how Cheren is too strict or that he doesn't mean it. Touya nods brainlessly, like he does for all the other visits. The taste in his mouth is bitter, like his morning coffee. Black coffee, no milk, no sugar.
"How many sugars in your coffee, Touya?"
"You know. The usual. Milk and two sugars, please!"
Reviews appreciated~