Once upon a time when he had been young and stupid, he had wished for a time when he could spend his life in peace, discussing mundane things with his father and playing with the birds. It had been a brief period of peace and freedom for him, and he had been — simply — happy.
And then his father died.
Falkner could still remember. How he'd entered the door with a tray of tea only to see him, body folded into a trembling mess and weak frame convulsing uncontrollably. That day, the only thing that had been saved was the tray. The tea had spilled, the cups had shattered, and his father had died. His mother was, still, nowhere to be seen. Unlike teacups, family was unfixable.
But then again, she'd never wanted anything to do with a gym leader in the first place, once her husband had become that good with his dear flying-types. Too much publicity, she said. Too dangerous for someone like me. Good-looking women all over the world are stalked and killed just because of their beauty and unattainability and I don't want anything like that to be happening at my doorstep. Nor do I want to spend the rest of my days with birds. Then she'd turned heel and left straight through the door, taking money, possessions, and feathered boa. She left in her wake a broken parent and a small child who could speak nothing but the avian language.
She'd been akin to a vulture preying on the trail of death, which Falkner now realized. Far worse than one, actually. Mandibuzz could be quite sweet if they were cared for correctly. She, however, was a different story. She was an actual parasite; he knew this for a fact, as his neighbors had told him while he was growing up why he didn't have a mother. Falkner often wondered why his father had married such a devil in his younger years, but eventually understood that he was still thankful that he had (not the marrying a devil part, but the part where he was born). He liked life and birds, after all, when he could live.
(And a particular person who wore a scarf no matter what. Falkner didn't think he'd ever understand that. Why — just why —
Well, he wouldn't be seeing him for a while, so it didn't matter. )
Sometimes, though, he wondered if it would be better if he never was able to touch the sky and feel the winds, because then maybe his father could have lived a happier life with a more faithful partner, even if it was without him. He hadn't been able to spend much time with him, but what time they shared had been precious and the memories they created together were ones that he would never forget. And from that brief time, Falkner had known that his father was a good person. He didn't deserve — he didn't —
(the want for a better life, when life was time and time was death)
His heart ached.
Before his vision blurred, Falkner closed his eyes and breathed.
He gave up.
He left.
A/N: ^^ The results of a particularly awful existential crisis while studying for a test. Because of that, this may not be very well-written or coherent. Nevertheless, here you go: my first fanfic in a very long time. Unfortunately, these 500 words have completely depleted me of my muse. RIP.