Snow Angels Part 1: Of Colder Seasons
A/N: This constitutes a swan song, an ode to a series and homage to the adventure of two characters, now complete. Consider it a post-series epilogue and the fulfillment of a promise made.
A trail dusted with fresh snow is my path.
Though mesmerizing white sparkles may conceal the world below,
Though winter's cold breath may rattle my bones,
And though the dark woodlands may threaten to whelm me,
I'll always find my way home with her at my side.
"This is…!" With haste, he scrambled over to the window. The whole world was awash in snow. From inside the comfortable lodge he heard the wind whistling through the tall evergreens. In unison, the large trees swayed and danced. Conducted by chilled gusts, they playfully swung in the winds as his breaths gradually fogged the glass. Plumes of powdered snow fluffed into the air, floating off as the pines' ice coated peaks rustled in the wind. Placing his hands on the teak windowsill, he felt a cold draft. It was hard to tell if there was any cold air coming through the window or if it was merely the idea of coldness making him feel this way.
Sana, at his side, seemed to radiate a glowing warmth, felt through their bond. It was enough to make him smile. "Chris, it's so beautiful!" she said. Each excited breath, every gasp of wonder, she truly felt enthusiastic. Her optimism was contagious, as was often the case with her emotions.
"This scene. It's incredible." Trying to find the words to describe it failed, he simply said her name. "Sanaria."
"What is it?" she asked the window, before tilting her head to face him. Her petite mouth opened ajar, a look of confusion on her pale face. "You only say my full name when it's important!"
Silently, he locked eyes with her. They were a lustrous cherry, with gracefully slopping eyelids. Her lengthy and dark lashes shivered as she refrained from blinking. Gazing into her eyes, he became lost. What had he meant to say? Thankfully, it took him only a moment to remember. "You remember when I told you we'd be going on an adventure?"
"Yeah!" Sana smiled brightly. "Of course I remember. I wanted to go with you. After everything—" she paused in soft contemplation "—I could not imagine any other way."
His shallow grin belied a sense of fear and uncertainty. Perhaps he did not want to go with her at first. Surely, he didn't expect to be traveling with her for this long. Nevertheless, he knew one thing: it had all happened for a reason. Not a reason that could be measured or predicted, but a reason that had to be felt. Experienced. And on this cold wintery day in Mahogany Town, that was exactly the way he felt about everything between the two of them. He just did not know how to adequately express it to her. Not even his heart could fully guide his sentiments. Despite growing closer to her, this still all felt new. As his mind stumbled over what to say next, he decided to be forthright with her. He had not been genuine for so long, and it was slowly eating him up inside now that he knew they would be together. His lips formed the words, "…I know that was a while ago, but when I said it I never thought we'd be seeing snow like this."
"What do you mean, Chris?"
He pointed at his chest and then to hers before tapping the frosted glass pane beside them. "Together. I never thought this whole thing…" he backtracked, replacing the somewhat callous, disassociated words, "— I mean us —would last long enough, to actually see snow with one another."
She brought her hand up to cover her mouth as she laughed. "Aw! You're upset it's lasted this long?" replied Sana jokingly. "Or are you having trouble with something you feel?"
Her ability to read him was uncanny. "No," he said shaking his head.
"Okay." Sana leaned in, inspecting his face.
"That's a little uncomfortable," he said, trying to stay steady while she blitzed him with her close stare.
Curiously, her eyes suddenly widened, as if she had noticed something. "You're suuuuure. Right?"
"Positive," he replied, unsure if she would believe him.
Sana adjusted a loose lock of her mint green hair over her ear. It had gotten messy at some point while by the window. Twirling it round her finger, she said rather slowly, "That's good. I'm…happy."
"Me too. I can feel that you're happy, Sanaria," he said, acknowledging the faint glow of peachy rose emanating from her core. Her heart spoke to him like that. Always in colors. Always as emotions made just barely physical through their connection.
Sana bowed her head. "I know you can."
Taking his index finger away from the cold window, he dragged his arm lazily through the air towards her. With a light touch, he helped her place her disordered hair back into place behind her ear. The silken, smooth strands of hair felt like electricity against his palm. Mumbling,
"There," he rested the edge of his hand along her scalp above her right ear. Though he did not want to leave this nest of warmth, he gradually lowered his hand, taking care to tickle two of her cartilage ear clippings.
Sana flushed like a rosette arrangement beneath her large eyes; swirls of warm colors bestowing her pale cheeks with tincture. With a jolt of excitement, she exclaimed, "I can't believe how pure and white it is! It's just like magic!"
He nodded. "Psychic powers are like magic too. Though I'm sure there's gotta be an explanation out there, suitable for my research."
"Always research this, research that, you never change," Sana sniggered. "Chris, are all humans as obsessed with breaking down the world?"
"The first thing you do if you don't understand something, is try to understand it. That's why…" His voice trailed off. He wanted to tell her that was not the reason he felt drawn to her. Yet this façade, him, a talented researcher and her as his assistant, had kept the two of them from the unmentionable attraction time and time again. And so, the two had spun around in their strange orbit, always together, hardly meeting. Until now.
"I guess, if we understood it, we could make snow. That would be incredible!" she said with a lighthearted cheer.
He sighed in relief. "You think so? Ice types can freeze water, turn precipitation into snow. Nifty. But this—" he gestured outside "—is really a sign of winter."
"It is?" she asked, straightening her posture. She was nearly as tall as him, her eyes reached nose height. Sometimes she would float off the ground slightly to compensate for the difference. "You've seen a lot of winter?"
"Oh, that's right, you're from the tropics of Hoenn," he said. She always did have a faint scent of hibiscus. "There's hardly any winter there. I grew up with it every year in Kanto. Johto gets a fair share as well, probably more up in these mountains. In general, snow's associated with winter and the season."
She raised a brow from under her curly green bangs. "The season?"
"Yeah. Snow, lights, Christmas—" he caught his breath. "Last week we made to Mahogany Town, that was the eighteenth. Oh wow, isn't that something?"
"What is it? You look really pleased."
Shaking his head, he said, "I knew it was cold outside, but I didn't think we'd be getting a White Christmas."
"A White Christmas?"
"When it's Christmas and snowing!" The name seemed self-explanatory, but he still had to clarify for her. She still didn't understand all the human traits and customs. Though their travels had revealed much about their respective species, it was always a work in process.
She shook her head and her green bangs fell out of place once again. "I don't get it."
"Don't worry too much," he said, feeling rejuvenated. "There isn't much to get besides that it's rare when it snows during Christmastime. Most people don't like the rain, but when it gets cold enough the rain turns to snow, and magically the whole day becomes special."
"Wow, then this really is amazing!"
He couldn't help but smile at her reaction. "You think so?" he asked.
"Yes! Don't you, Chris?"
He managed to give a mild nod. "Sure is nice."
"There are so many of them too, dancing over the white ground!" she said, spinning her hips to mimic the spiraling motion of the flakes. Her waist has no exaggerated curves to it; her dress' top continued into a frilly skirt, with a tapered length and split in the front.
Watching her dance lightly brought his attention to her body. He replied, "I haven't seen snow flurries this large since I was a young boy."
"Really? How young?" she asked eagerly before her tone dropped in worry. "You can remember?"
He took in a long breath, drawing in chilled air from the window as he stared. He responded, "Yeah. Now I remember snow."
"That's good. It would be terrible to forget something as pretty as snow."
"I don't want to forget," he spoke rather gravely. He had forgotten much, left so many pieces behind to be here right now with Sana. "She was even prettier than something like the snow. But… Sanaria?"
She faced him and beamed innocently. "Yes?"
No matter how many times she did that it never grew stale. It was just subtle enough to reveal her feelings were of the two of them. He had learned to read feelings, but not nearly as good as her. However, her feelings were the ones he could read best. More than anything, he wanted to let her know what he thought about her. Yet the timing never seemed right. He had a chance, an opportunity to say that she was prettier than the snow or the memories in his heart. All of it was true and the very reason the two of them were here together. Yet anxiety caused his sentiments to falter in their final stages before expression. "Do you like snow?" he finally asked.
It sounded silly to ask. Of course she liked snow! Why else would she be so fascinated? Sana giggled, taken aback by his unassuming question. "What do you mean?"
He said with a dry laugh, "Do you like how it looks on the ground or in the sky?"
She knew what he meant right away. "It's like a great big ballroom gown that the earth gets to wear! So enchanting! I can't even see the green of the forest under all the beautiful snow!"
"You would see it that way," he said, thoughtfully adjusting his shirt's collar to wipe the bit of sweat that had formed on his neck. "You don't wear a great big billowing gown. But others do, and influence the world around them with their glamor. I learned why the final evolution don such elegant clothes." His expression turned serious as he looked her over. "Sanaria, I'm glad you don't ever have to let anyone else choose what you wear."
"What makes you say that, mister scientist?" she teased. "You think being –impractical– is a good thing?"
"Now when did I say that?" he responded, his serious expression thawing. He knew he could protect her. And that was exactly what he would do.
"This dress, huh?" she asked rubbing the material along her abdomen. She outlined her hips through the motion; were she a human girl, she would have been considered as thin as a rail.
Sana'a garments may have not been the way Gardevoir were depicted in the encyclopedia, but the similarities were numerous. They were similar to silk and velvet, at least those were the closest naturally worn materials he could compare it to. But if felt otherworldly to the touch and would send tingles up the spine; the garbs were capable of transferring sensation straight through. Sana's skirt and top were a creamy coconut white, with dainty fluffs of rounded wrinkles round her hips. It was adjustable, about as flexible as she could imagine it. Back on the islands in the Southern Sea, she'd wore more comfortable attire, a skirt that dangled only midway down her thin white leg-guard stockings. In warmer climates, she simply found it more comfortable to wear her clothing folded up. Folding was an invisible way to reduce the length of her garments; she explained it the same way she explained teleportation: having two far away parts meet together in a kiss. Now that it was it was colder, she had unhooked the clasps causing the dress to become more elegant. By no means was it the level of wedding ornateness, but he had never seen her like this before. In its current state, her outfit consisted of a skirt with the front reaching halfway down her legs and a long trailing back, barely touching the floor.
He raised his hand and lightly placed it on her gently sloped shoulder, noticing that one of her straps was slightly off kilter. "What other dress would I be talking about?"
"Oh, I just thought now that it's different you might not recognize me. I still get nervous since it's so different from when we first met."
"That's why. It's yours. It represents who you are now. Not the way you used to be. Not under anyone's control but yourself." With a smile, he brought the strap closer to her neck's base. "I think it looks pretty on you the way you like to wear it."
Feeling warm inside, she quickly brought her hands up to her chest to touch the glossy rubicund heart shard emerging from a thinly cut slit in her fitted clothing, dividing her two small breasts. "You…really think so? I can wear it any way that I want to?"
His hand trembled, knowing he had cleverly brought her to a state of embarrassment concerning his feelings for her. She still hadn't gotten over him —a human, and a pragmatist at that — being affectionate towards her. They first met under rather hostile terms nearly three years ago when he was barely eighteen. But then again, nothing about their relationship was normal. To complicate it all, nothing about their deep history was pristine.
"I know so," he said. "And that's a fact." He adamantly nodded, as if no one would dare say otherwise.
She looked down at herself again. The cold window next to them served as a partial mirror, reflecting more than anything else their different silhouettes. To really come to terms with the fact they were together. They both were different species. It had been so difficult for her to see herself as purely that way, or him as purely that way. In these moments of quietness, she often wondered how similar these thoughts were to his.
"R—really?" she said, stammering and fuddling with her dress' waistline. "That's awfully nervy of you."
"Didn't mean to get you all flustered," he replied. Then he shrugged, desperately trying to cool down the inflamed tension welling between them.
Sana sighed. The concept of him being able to overcome the differences between them made her heart flutter. But there would always be restrictions. Always challenges. And always adversity. It was times like these, when she stood next to him in a safe room, that she finally felt at ease. Protected. Seeing the snow outside, and hearing the noise dampened, helped encourage this strange new security for her. The lodge itself was not the Persian Suites, but it had the amenities of a small working fireplace, a granite-top kitchenette, and a set of rich cedar furniture. The aroma in the air was woodsy mixed with charcoal.
"Yeah," he assured her. "It took a long time to realize."
"Realize what?"
"That we could…never mind."
Sana grappled with her hands, looking for something—anything—to hold onto. "Tell me!" she pleaded. She tugged on the base of a leather vest he wore. Completely synthetic, the black material was loose and short, barely reaching past his waistline. It didn't fully close, revealing a bland neck shirt underneath through a gap about a palm's width wide. This opening had two hardy belt straps to keep the fabric close to his body while active in the field. The sash tips matched the two buttons pinning down the vest's collar. The sleeves were cuffed and sealed with a metal clasp, exposing his scrawny forearms. Typically they were covered by his jacket and trainer equipment, but he'd taken his wrist guards off earlier when they had arrived here in order to massage his sore muscles underneath. It had been quite a hike from Goldenrod after all.
"That we could get along…make this work—" he said, giving her a signature expression of innocence to complement his subtlety "—despite our differences."
"Differences?" she asked. Her hold on his vest was rather firm. "I forgot how different we were."
A faint, dry laugh slipped from his lips. He really was different in most ways save one. He peered down at where her eyes had traveled. His heart shard. A Gardevoir's heart. Buried in his chest, a constant reminder of his relationship with this Pokemon. An exact replica of her own rubicund source of life. Possessing a thin edge, the heart shard itself projected out of the navy cotton tunic he wore about a palm's distance at its furthest point. Of course, he always had to vertically snip the chest of his clothes with a pair of fabric scissors, or risk ruining his clothes.
"I know it wasn't always like this… I know it didn't have to be like this, Sana. And I know it hurt you for it to be like this. I — Goddammit! — I didn't mean for it to happen like this—"
"No. You shouldn't hurt yourself over it," she replied, stretching her hand out to grace the trainer's heart with the tips of her fingers. "Don't beat yourself up. You didn't know better. Not even I knew this would happen."
"I never knew this side of life—" He fought the urge to lay a hand on it "—to think… I screwed up." The heart was between the vest's two straps, projecting straight out of his sternum bone. From there it radiated heat, projected and retrieved emotion, in perfect synchronization with his internal heart's every beat. Oftentimes he wondered how much of a hold over him it had, whether it made him a monster beyond in the eyes of fellow humans.
"Aren't you glad that you were given a chance to though? To feel life? When you could have died."
He scratched his head, massaging his scalp from underneath the forest of thick auburn hair. "Y-Yeah," he said unsteadily at first, "it's my chance to make things right."
"You don't have to prove anything to me. I told you I wanted to be with you. You know that. You've known that since we—" she said, her hushed tone trailing off into empty space.
"Yeah, but I fought things for so long, Sanaria. Fought me. Fought you. Fought the world. To what avail?" he asked the snow outside.
"I don't know. But this is the way that it is now. And you've come a long way in accepting it."
"A long way," he said sarcastically. His arrogance brought him to where he was. He knew he wasn't the easiest person to get along with. "Sana, you're either a saint or stupid for sticking around," he said with laugh.
She smirked. "I still like it that you know how to laugh."
"I'm sure it'll get boring for you. I don't have a ton of emotions like you do. Can't comprehend most of 'em either."
"Well no matter how many emotions are zipping through your head, you always have a smile that can come out. That's what you do have."
He slowly asked, "You really think so?"
She crossed her arms, and blew her hair out from her face. "Why else would I tell you something like that, silly?"
He laughed again, this time more openly. She started to laugh along with him. The entire room began to feel warmer. "Well, now that you know my secret," he said, "what do you say we go outside and check out the snow?"
She beamed wildly and grasped his hand lovingly, "Okay, but on one condition!"
"What's that?" he asked, half expecting her to inquire about how cold it was and how they could stay warm.
"You have to tell me all about Christmas!"
That was Sanaria. Always more concerned with things less practical. She was about as inquisitive as he was, albeit in a different fashion. While he was a researcher, often concerned with facts and statistics, she took her knowledge applying it to a myriad of topics that could do nothing but expand her understanding of humanity. She was consistently fascinated by it all. And when he looked at it that way, the two of them really weren't that dissimilar.
"Okay, but I don't really know too much about Christmastime, Sana," he griped. "Never really got into the holiday too much. Not after mom passed."
"What do you mean? You just explained it! There's snow and it's extra special!"
"I know. But there's more to Christmas than snow."
Sanaria put her arm on his shoulder. "Really?" she asked pressing close to him.
He lost interest in explaining it. Suddenly she was all that concerned him.
She smiled and nudged him with her cheek. The warmth of her flush exuded to his cheek and the soft cartilage of her ear's points poked the side of his head, a small peck of endearment. He proceeded to hold onto her tighter, wrapping his arms around her back.
"Really," he whispered in her ear. "C'mon. Let's go exploring."
Melodically, she hummed to herself. Those heartfelt pitches of noise could be felt at this close range. They were like tiny wave crests of music to his ears and body. One following another, in beautiful symmetric pace.
"Mmm. Okay," she said quietly straightening her posture, but not retreating.
"Yeah, but it has gotten a fair deal colder since when we arrived," he admitted. "Hopefully we can stay warm."
"I'm sure we can keep each other warm," she replied, her hands interlocking with his.
There was an excited tingle as he held her hands. "Okay," he said evenly at first. "But."
"What?" she asked, recoiling her palm in concern.
He did not let her bring his hands to her waist, and their holding broke. "As embarrassing as it sounds, when I was a kid, I wasn't ever allowed to stay out for a long time in the snow."
"Why's that?"
He clenched his knuckles into two stubborn fists. "Something about catching cold."
"Catching a cold, from being in the cold?" Sana traced the contour of his closed hands with her glare. "That expression. How very human."
"Don't give me that," he said with a groan. "That's why it's called catching a cold!"
She poked him. "You never caught me. How do you expect me to believe you'd catch a cold?"
"Witty," he grumbled. "Haven't you ever gotten sick?"
"Not from a cold." Sana rocked her head softly. "But I would like to one day if it's a new experience."
"Are you crazy? No one wants to get a cold. Being sick sucks."
Sana's eye glowed as she pried his mind ever so slightly. It did not hurt; the sensation was quite warm. "What's it like having a scratch in your throat? A runny nose? And Sneasels too!" She started to laugh. "Looks like I experienced my first cold just fine."
"I shouldn't have brought it up," he said sourly. "And its "sneezes" not Sneasels."
"Whoops." Sana smiled and the glow disappeared. "Guess you were thinking of those while I was learning about colds through your experience."
"Synapses must've crossed, similar words," he suggested. "Those little crooks are nothing but trouble."
"Unsurprising. They're dark types. They hunt psychics." Sana frowned.
"A gang of them live close by. Lady at the front desk said to be careful because they were expanding their territory from the Ice Path. Figured thought they lived further up in the mountains, away from people. Abandoned spots on the map, like Snowpoint."
"Snow—point?" she repeated. "What…err…where's that?"
"It's a small town far to the north." He pointed towards the distant white mountains beyond the snow trees. "All the way in the Sinnoh region."
"Sinnoh?"
"That's right. If I had a globe I could show you. In Snowpoint it always snows, all year round."
Sana's expression was equal parts concern and suspicion. "Always?"
"Pretty much."
Sana sighed. "There aren't any flowers that can live there."
"Probably not. Way too harsh. Botany isn't my specialty so I'm not sure, Sana. I don't know anything about the plant life there. It's like another world to me."
"Another world to you?"
"Yeah." He padded the small timepiece on the table adjacent to the window. "Something I don't understand. Something I haven't experienced yet. I only know the stories."
"What kinds of stories?"
"Oh, you know, Christmas stories."
She didn't know. Her blank expression said it all.
"They're for kids mostly." He scratched his head. "Like I don't know, one's about a plump man from Snowpoint who travels in a big red sleigh, with a trusty Delibird at his side, delivering gifts to good little boys and girls."
Sana chuckled. "You can't be serious!"
"Of course, Stantler and Sawsbuck pull his sleigh. And if you're naughty, his Torkoal dumps coal in your stocking instead of presents. The big guy is one hell of a trainer. He's even got legendary friends to help him cheat time and fill everyone's stockings with gifts in one night."
Sana looked down at her legs, imagining her white stockings filled with presents. "That's such a marvelous story!"
"You think so?"
"I think it's so nice someone will give you presents for being good." She grinned. "Gardevoir have all kinds of stories like that too, you know?"
He raised a brow. "About Christmas?"
"No. But similar tales about gift-giving."
"I'd like to hear about them."
"Truth is, a lot of them are written down in the language of the forest, crafted by our ancestors. Only the ancient ones, those with the power to control the universe through their hearts can speak it."
"Mmm. Ancient stuff." He briefly closed his eyes. Contemplating. Reminiscing. The truth was too difficult to explain, yet her sense of wonder made him feel less guilty for holding back. So she would not suspect his ruminations to be as weighty as they were, he quickly mused, "That could be interesting."
"I hope you can visit Home one day with me. It's beautiful there when the flowers are in bloom."
Once again, he felt hesitation. He knew he had to be strong, and express to her that he had it together. Even if it meant suppressing his concerns, for the sake of their chance to be together, he had to conquer his fears. Evenly he spoke. "I'm sure we will once we're done with everything. We can finally relax and do what we want."
"That sounds…nice," Sana said. Yet she seemed upset by something. Her eyes revealed her pensiveness.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I was just thinking about what you told me and wondering if the Snowpoint people miss seeing flowers. They must be very sad; even if they get presents for being good."
"It isn't only people from Snowpoint who get presents."
"Huh?"
"I got presents when I was younger too. And I lived all the way south in Saffron City."
"What?!" she exclaimed. "How?"
He looked down at the hardwood floor. Then he met her gaze once more. "Sometimes parents pass along the gifts to their children. It all works out in the end for everyone."
"Really? Hmm…so it's not special for them after all," she murmured.
He could tell she was thinking intently about something. "What is it now?" he asked cautiously.
"Without flowers, and without presents, they have nothing special…"
"You're too compassionate," he said. "Lighten up."
"I can't help that!" Sana protested childishly.
He dipped his head, trying to think of any little obscure facts he could think of to comfort her. "You know, there's something else they get. There's special sparkling snow called Diamond Dust from the peak of Mount Coronet."
Her eyes brightened as she imagined it. He had never seen it, so she could not picture it from his memories. "Diamond Dust? That sounds so pretty!"
"It's rare though. Like having a White Christmas here in northern Johto. Magical when it happens though."
"Wow," she said, rocking her head. "I'm happy we can see the snow here. Together."
"I know. I can feel that," he replied. The radiant heat was from her happiness after all. Happiness that came from being together. It pushed out the cold.
"So what are we waiting for, Slowpoke?!" she chuckled. "Let's go outside and see the snow!"
"Hold on! Let me put on my boots!" With a few hops over to the door, he pulled on their worn, but sturdy straps.
Sana pranced over behind him, silent as a ghost with her light strides. By the time he had gotten them on she was next to him, with an extended arm. Taking her hand, she helped him up with a lift, "There you go!"
"Thanks," he told her, picking up a metal key on a chain from a polished cherry wood table next to the door. It was cold to the touch.
She held his bicep as he approached the door. "Any day now!" she remarked with a laugh.
"Yeah. So, is that everything?" He gestured to the hook on the wooden wall of the cabin. "How 'bout that coat I bought you?"
"Yep!" Sana twirled the woman's parka around her body as she spun gracefully into its sleeves.
"Okay," he said, snatching the small keychain along with his wallet. "Remember, we can't, you know, be overly affectionate."
She shoved him angrily. "Stop it," she said embarrassedly. "I'm not going to throw myself on you or anything!"
"Right." Opening the solid wood door, he winked at her, "After you then."
The polite comment made her chuckle as she bounced outside. The air was clean and crisp. She could smell the snow in the air. Gusty winds blew from the valley region in the east, blowing her fluffy lined hood off her head.
"Whoa!" she exclaimed. This wind and snow is so strong!"
"Must be coming from the Ice Path."
"Where the sneezes live!" Sana joked, spinning around so the wind pushed her hood back up. Or it could have been her psychokinesis at work. She was subtle when she used her powers to manipulate objects and made it easy to blame on other factors.
"Sneasels…I'm never gonna live this one down." he said, turning the silver key and locking up. He held onto the bronze railing, cautiously navigating down the stairs, careful to avoid the frozen patches. Ahead the street was wide and filled with snow for as far as he could see. All the lampposts were covered in whiteness. Long icicles hung from their glowing lanterns. Cars lined the side streets, their models and emblems all hidden, making them into generic snow-covered vehicles. Everything covered by the magical substance was hushed, adding to the peaceful charm. Judging by the lack of activity, everyone was either indoors or in the town square.
Sana ran ahead of him down the sidewalk. With poise, she skipped along in the snow, finding little difficulty navigating. Each step felt like she was flying. "It is so fluffy!" she said whist kicking some of a nearby snow bank with her leg. Like white smoke, the power plumed up past her knees.
He watched her spin and toss more of the fine particles into the air with her narrow legs while her dress danced along the surface of the snow like an artist's brush.
"C'mon, what's the matter?" she asked. "Did you drop something?"
Squatting, he thought she might detect his motive. Having so much dancing, she did not realize he had been collecting some snow in his hands. Swiftly he patted it together. The snow was still falling, and the flakes were extra tiny. "Perfect. Just perfect."
"What are you doing?"
"Oh nothing," he said, innocently as possible.
Apprehension ran over Sana's face. "I…uhhh…."
She knew something was amiss. He felt it. Her emotions were transmitted directly to him, and there was nothing that he could do to stop them. At first, it had been difficult, but he had grown more accustomed to it with time. A constant nudging from linked emotions consistently traversed between the two along a fine psychic tightrope.
He finished packing the light snowball and raised it high like a Pokéball. With a fling, he lobbed it at her.
"HEY! Waaaah!" she exclaimed.
He hadn't thrown a snowball in years. But he was still a good shot. His technique was nothing less than an example of the classic chuck from growing up watching Pokémon Battling All-Stars.
"Well—" Sana wiped the dusty snow off her parka with a flick of her wrist "—if that's how you want to play, mister!"
"You're on!" he taunted.
"You'll be sorry!"
Like a commando deep behind enemy lines, he ducked behind a car, and restocked his ammunition.
"You better watch out!" Sana shouted, forming a packed snowball of her own by means of psychokinesis to lift a glob of snow straight off the ground and into her hand.
Peering out from behind his bunker, he looked just in time to see her fling. It whistled over his head as he dived back down. The snow did not hold very well together, scattering a puff of powder overhead. "Looks like someone's got weak aim," he mocked. "At this rate, I'll catch you in one more throw!"
"Pfft!" Sana's psychic voice haughtily refuted, echoing her irritability in his head.
Wasting no time after seeing she had poor technique by failing to adequately pack the snow, he packed another round from behind cover. He jeered in mock battle cry, "You'll have to be a better shot than that, Sanariaaaaaaa!"
Standing up, he chucked another snowball. This time, a small field barrier had blocked it!
"Hey, you can't do that!"
The Reflect wall in front of her shimmered while the wind blew snowflakes into the psychic shield making it more apparent. The snowball slowly slid off the semitransparent teal crystal lattice, revealing Sana's glowing ruby eyes under her hood as she posed victoriously behind her barricade.
"Aw, why not?" she asked. "You jealous?"
"Curses! That's cheating!"
"Oh! But you get to throw first?" Sana smirked. "That doesn't seem very fair, does it?"
"You should have known what I was going to do; you're a psychic after all!" he insisted in a dramatic tone. "Not my fault if you can't see the future."
"I can't see the future!" Sana admitted. Putting her hands on her hips and spreading her elbows in protest, she said, "I've told you a thousand times that it doesn't work like that! You of all people should know by now!"
"I have you now!" A second snowball he had hidden in his other hand under his coat was his trump card.
"Eeep!" Sana cried out, putting both her hands in front of her face. Her barrier faded.
As it lobbed at her, it suddenly changed direction, coming back right at him! The snowball flew through the air, and he made a quick lunge to dodge it. Diving into a bank of snow, he managed to avoid getting hit. The snowball whizzed on overhead.
"Looks like you're covered in snow!" she sniggered.
"Least it isn't your snow," he grunted as he got to his feet again. Pushing off with his strong arm, he sprung up quickly. Just as he got up, he saw Sanaria's eyes glowing again. The same way they always did when she used her powers.
Then he felt a cold lump nail him in the back of the head.
"Gotcha!"
"Tricks like that. Using my own snowball against me." He groaned and cleaned the snow from his head. "Looks like you win this round."
"Giving up already? How're you going to earn any respect from your friends?"
"I'm a fine trainer as it is!" he said. "Got some badges, got some bounty money, got some friends in high places, and, hell, I even got an assistant type."
"That's all very precious," she said with leering eyes. "But if you're talking about me, you're dead wrong."
"How could I possibly be wrong?" he asked. "Any famous and brilliant researcher requires an assistant of sufficient caliber. You fit the bill to my satisfaction."
"You're neither famous nor brilliant," she replied.
A battered, beleaguered adventurer, he stumbled over towards Sana, careful to avoid tripping in the snowdrifts. He exhaled loudly. "Yet you do not deny your role."
She was just the opposite, contrasting with graceful, evanescent strides; her every motion gave the impression of being nimble and free. Once she was next to him, along with a playful shove, she blurted, "Shuddup!"
His coat was covered in snow, but the falling snowflakes stuck to her parka as well. "Sana, it's not that bad being my assistant. Just like snowball fights, it's all about having fun." He wobbled slightly, regaining his footing.
To his surprise, she apologized. "Sorry for tricking you."
"Don't worry so much," he said with a short laugh. "It's not that big a deal. I shot first."
"It's a lot warmer when we're closer together isn't it?" She rubbed the back of his coat with her hands.
He acknowledged with a plain "Yeah" in response. It might have been their body temperatures, it might have been the first law of thermodynamics at work, but right now it was exactly what it felt like: a hug. All the research, all the science did not matter. That was an enormous change for the young man. His perspective had shifted because of Sana.
A snowflake landed against her cheek, instantly melting into a glossy drop of water. "Don't you like it?" she asked.
Watching the snowfall on ice-coated eves, he took a few moments to reflect. Except there was not a whole lot to think about. "Yes, of course."
Her elbow nudged his side. "I'm happy, Chris."
"I'm happy too, Sana," he said, squeezing her arm.
She flushed involuntarily and squeezed him closer to her. "Well, good," she said, brushing the snow out of his hair. Her hands were very warm.
"Thanks, was a little damp. Don't want to get cold."
With a very stern glare she said rather convincingly, "Don't you dare catch a case of the Sneasels."
Together they laughed.
Smiling, he gripped her by the hand and said gently, "C'mon, let's go see the rest of the town."
"Okay. You lead the way!" More agreeable than ever before, Sana seemed keen to their date and courting etiquette, drawing from his memories.
The pair walked further down the winding path at a relatively slow pace, sharing a union of warm hands and warm hearts.