Anger

A clenched hand holding a short pencil danced its way across a sheet of paper. Originally, the paper had been entirely blank, home only to a delicate black powder that often strays from other sheets of paper. Yet now its surface was becoming littered with dark, harsh markings that dented its surface and left small indentations on the sheets stacked below it.

The pencil abruptly stopped. Dark eyes squinted at the sheet as if they had been insulted by it, then closed with a rough head shake. The artist holding the pencil then sighed deeply and gazed out the bay window in which he was currently curled up, his feet under him and the drapes pulled shut behind him to ensure privacy.

Outside the window was a brilliant sunset. Brilliant hues of pink, red, purple, orange, and blue were displayed brilliantly in the darkening sky, and then reflected in the ocean. Bits of trees and shoreline that reflected these graceful colors were visible from the window of this building perched atop a cliff. It was a magnificent sight to behold.

But Tracey Sketchit was not happy.

He shifted his body until his cheek rested against the warm glass of the window and closed his eyes. But as the thoughts leftover from the hours previous flooded back to him, his eyes snapped open to gaze at the landscape he had been working on.

While the boy knew that he would never be able to do justice to the beauty of the sunset with nothing more than a plain graphite pencil, he didn't care- anything to take his mind off of his other thoughts...

This isn't right, he thought as he gazed at his half-completed drawing. The anger he felt coursing through his body certainly showed in the lines on the paper- to him, his trees appeared menacing; his sun mocking.

Tracey very roughly tore the sheet from his notebook, ripping it in the process. But this only served to frustrate the boy more as he smashed the two fragments between the smooth surfaces of his two palms. He inhaled deeply and readied his pencil, ready to start on the next blank sheet. But when he gazed out the window again, he discovered that the sun was almost completely gone from the sky and the brilliant colors had vanished.

Almost crying with impatience, he threw his notebook and pencil at the faded drapes. He then pulled his knees up to his chest, reaching his slender arms in between his folded legs so his hands could clasp together. He rested his head on his knees and stared at the now dark sky through the window.

He sighed. When he arose earlier in the day and ambled into the shower, he never thought that such an ordinary day would end so...angrily? ...sullenly? ...hopelessly? Tracey couldn't even think of an adequate verb to describe his feelings at the moment.

It wasn't fair, he thought to himself. Today should have been a good day. He rubbed his eyes impulsively.

In fact, the day had gone well until the afternoon. Professor Oak and Tracey had worked alongside each other in order to complete a study that detailed some of the characteristics of Water-types. It was nothing monumental, but it had been a long-term project and both were pleased with the results. Even Gary, who was now becoming a rival professor to his grandfather, had given his approval. Since he had only arrived a short time ago, Gary had not actually helped with the project, save the occasional proofreading or extra pair of hands when a Pokemon under observation had been difficult to restrain.

Gary... Tracey inhaled sharply and clenched his hands tightly around each other. Everything had been fine until he had decided to intervene...

Gary and Tracey had never really met, except through Ash, and Tracey wasn't sure how he felt about the brown-haired trainer. From time to time since his arrival, Tracey would catch the other boy studying him with a strange look on his face that made Tracey slightly uncomfortable. But even so, it had all started out so peacefully. The trio sat down to a relaxing dinner; Tracey and the Professor (in his mind, Gary would never earn the same title as his grandfather) discussing the day's work and Gary silently smirking in his usual fashion. In fact, when a lull hit the conversation, Tracey reflected upon what a successful day it had been.

Then Gary's voice cut across his thoughts. Even in the memory of the day, Tracey still heard Gary's words as clearly as if he had just said them.

"So Gramps, when are you going to get yourself a real assistant?" Gary asked with a sideways glance at the older boy, who felt as if he had been submerged in ice water.

"Gary, I already have a real assistant," Professor Oak chuckled. "What would I want with another one?" His words warmed the boy in question.

"Him?!" Gary laughed his arrogant laugh. "Sure, he can help you feed the Pokemon, and dust their Pokeballs, but it's not like he has any qualifications. If you actually want someone competent, you should ask for an intern from one of Kanto's universities!" Ever since Gary had been accepted into one those aforementioned schools, he had bragged about his experiences endlessly. Tracey found his stories interesting, but he knew going to a university was out of the question for someone like him, who had never been a serious trainer and therefore did not have the money for a serious trainer.

"Gary, that's simply not true. Tracey is an immense help to me, even if he isn't professionally trained in these matters. Having an assistant educated in these matters would do nothing more than cause a clash of interests," Professor explained.

Tracey flushed deeply at his last comment. "Just because I don't have a formal education doesn't mean I don't know anything about Pokemon," he said, trying to keep his the volume of his voice even and controlled.

"Ha!" Gary gave a short, deep laugh. In contrast, he was growing louder. "Yeah, you can tell one Pokemon apart from another. Good job! But you're never going to be useful for anything other than cooking and grunt work until you've studied these things at a real school," Gary hooted. "You're about as useful as a ten-year-old girl, fresh out of Trainer School. I know I'd never trust you with anything more important than my laundry!"

That did it. Tracey stood up from the table. Gary stopped laughing. "Just because you think I'm useless doesn't mean I am. I'm good at plenty of things, even things your fancy schools don't teach," Tracey said, almost shouting from his temper. He then ran from the kitchen, grabbing a notebook and pencil from the sitting room. Looking frantically for a hiding place, he noticed the red curtains partially obscuring a bay window that overlooked the ocean. Settling himself on the ledge and shutting the curtains, he began to breathe heavily as he started to furiously copy the scene from outside.

And so he remained, undisturbed, with his agitated thoughts that flitted through his mind like angry bugs.

Who the hell is he to tell me that I'm not a worthy assistant because I can't afford a college education? The only reason he's there is because his grandfather is famous and he's won a few battles, Tracey thought harshly. They both think they know so much better than me! 'Clash of interests', my ass! Professor is just afraid of having someone who won't always do exactly what he says.

But this realization upset Tracey even further. The only reason he keeps me around is because he knows I won't challenge his theories...

"You dropped this," an uncharacteristically soft voice broke through Tracey's thoughts. He looked up, startled.

Gary opened the curtains and slipped inside, sitting lazily across from Tracey. Tracey said nothing, only nodded and accepted the notebook and pencil that the other boy held out to him and placed it in between his hip and the window. Not making eye contact, Tracey returned to staring out the window, trying to look intent in hopes this arrogant boy would leave him alone.

Gary looked at him, then sighed softly. "You know...I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I didn't mean it. Not really," he offered, in hopes of breaking the angry silence. Tracey did not respond, not wanting to give Gary an opportunity to humiliate him further. Gary sighed again. "I know you're a good assistant and Grandpa really appreciates your help. But you would get so much more out of living here if you went to school! You could learn so much. Well, I'm sure you already have, but..." here he trailed off awkwardly. "...I think you could be even better if you wanted to be."

Tracey snorted. "I don't need an education to appreciate living here," he said softly.

"I know! I loved being here, even when I was young. Even before I knew why Grandpa is famous! But now that I come back here after spending some time in a university...it's even better! It's like...knowing the theory behind a magician's tricks, but still never being able to see how he does it," and Tracey had to laugh gently at the enthusiasm behind his companion's words. "Of course I know that you don't need school to be smart...but I really think you'd like it," Gary finished softly.

Tracey finally looked at the other boy. He was a little surprised by the sincerity of his words, and could tell by his earnest face that he really did mean them.

And before Tracey could realize what was happening, Gary moved closer to him, breaking the grasp that his hands held on each other and balanced on one of his knees, placing the other one in between Tracey's two. Gary delicately lifted a hand to Tracey's face, and gently wiped the tear trails on his cheeks.

Tracey hadn't even realized he had been crying. Gary moved closer still and kissed his forehead. "Besides...I know that you're good at lots of things. Anyone can tell, just from watching you. You're quite interesting," the scrawny brunette whispered. He then placed both of his hands on his companion's hips and leaned in towards him, placing his head on Tracey's broad shoulder. Tracey was so shocked at the younger boy's advances that he couldn't move. "And for the record, I'd never ask you to do my laundry."

Tracey smiled as he softened into the embrace. "I'd do your laundry better than you could anyway," he teased, glad for the apology he had been given and enjoying the attention from his companion.

Gary laughed. "I'm sure you would. After all, there are some things school just can't teach you."

-x-

Oh god. I just wanted to write something for Tracey, since he's always been one of my favorites, and Gary is starting to grow on me.

I randomly got the idea for this (Tracey drawing something out of anger, sitting in a window) and figured out the other parts as I wrote. I think it shows, too. Please tell me if you notice any typos, or things that just don't make sense. I was pretty tired by the time I finished.