A lucario was waiting at a bus stop, having finished grading the week's homework early. He was wearing a black pair of dress pants and a white dress undershirt, with a black dress overcoat. He wore black dress shoes, his pants hovering just above his ankle. He held a briefcase in his right hand and an umbrella in his left. His tail was static, swaying left and right on occasion. To top it off, he had a pair of glasses that sat delicately on the bridge of his snout. He was the image of a typical businessman, yet he was a teacher.

He knew it would rain tonight. Tonight. Not exactly when, he just sensed that it was at nighttime. His bangs were different: they didn't sense normal aura. Instead, they sensed a special kind of aura only emitted by most abiotic factors. In other words, he could sense weather. To the disappointment of his parents, he invested his career in teaching at the local middle school. No, the bangs weren't just floppy barometers hanging off the sides of his head. He knew any and every weather change in order of when it would happen, and where. Then again, his skills weren't exactly blessed with accuracy. But judging by the humid air entering his lungs, he knew it would rain soon.

And it did.

Small droplets of water began to drizzle the lucario and his overcoat. He lifted the umbrella and opened it, swinging it over his head. The sounds of gentle flicks of rain hitting the fabric of the umbrella soon filled his sensitive and pointy ears. He waited there in the rain, waiting for the bus to come. He flicked his wrist to see his watch—4:42.

He sighed and put his arm down. It would be a good ten minutes before the bus would come. His eyes, weary and dreary, wandered to the street. He tried to do something to pass the time: like count the yellow lines on the road. He did this for a small while, until he heard the faint clicking of slippers on the ground.

His left ear turned to the sound, and he calmly turned his head.

There stood a light blue lucario that was considerably shorter than him, holding a plastic bag, and wearing a heavy jacket that was quite waterlogged from the rain. It wore a lengthy skirt that bottomed out at the ankles, and just below that he could make out small, black, shiny slippers. If his assumptions on anatomy were correct, he would say it was a…

"Little girl…" he said aloud. "A-are you lost?" She looked up at him and gawked.

"U-uh… sir… y-your… fur…" she managed. The girl pointed to him, and he looked down.

"I am aware of my fur, yes," he said quietly. "It is white." He had this fur since he was born. No dyes, chemicals, bleach, nothing. He also lacked the black fur on his head that resembled a blindfold, making him stand out from the crowd. It was weird at first having people be taken aback by his color, but he got used to it.

"Oh! Um… I'm not lost. I'm—er—was getting things for school." She held up her plastic bag. "Can I use your umbrella? It's getting really hard." She looked up at the rain.

"Yes, of course." She sidestepped under his umbrella, sighing at the protection.

"Why is your fur that color?" she probed.

"It is a genetic inheritance. Very, very recessive trait in my family. The last person to have it was my great, great, great, great grandmother. Unfortunately, it is only passed down from the mothers. I have no sisters, and I am the last one, sadly."

"Oh. I'm sorry, mister."

"Don't be. The color of your fur shouldn't dictate what you do."

"R-r-r-right," she said, as it was getting colder. "H-how are you not stuttering?"

"It comes with the color of my fur. I have a very high tolerance for cold."

"L-l-l-lucky" she said, later chuckling. "I-is your b-body t-temperature the s-same as regul-lar l-lucario?"

"Yes. Oddly. Most ice types have colder body temperature." She gasped.

"Y-you're an ice type?" she exclaimed. He smiled.

"Yes. Also a recessive trait. It comes with my tolerance for the cold, and the fur. I'm one of the few tri-types. Most of my students are jealous about that."

"Y-you're just chock-full of surprises, aren't you mister?" she said, smiling. "W-wait." She turned to him. "How do I know you're not lying?" He took in a slow breath. "Ha! Liar!" She crossed her arms and grinned, placing her weight on one hip. He turned to her and exhaled, small crystals floating to her, coating her face in frost. She scrunched up her nose and dusted it off. The white lucario chuckled.

"Don't assume." She coughed at the end of his sentence.

"So…" she coughed again. "Minty…" she was thrown into a fit of coughing. "I'm dying… help me." He laughed.

"And I didn't even brush my teeth this morning."

"Gross. But it's tolerable" she said, clearing her throat.

"I've heard worse."

"Is snarkiness also part of the trait?" she said, looking up at him and grinning.

"No, it's just the way I talk. I would prefer to be polite than use that retched street-slang."

"Street-slang? What street slang?"

"Children this generation overuse the word 'like', often using them to think about the next sentence. Children these days don't think before they talk…" He looked at her. "But I have noticed you never use that. Why?"

"I was homeschooled. Was."

"Really? Well, what made your parents decide for you to be homeschooled until now, then?"

"They couldn't afford it. They homeschooled because… wait… you haven't noticed yet? My tail?" She put her arms out. "Everyone does. That's the first thing people look at."

"Your tail? Well why would I need to look at your tai—" he was interrupted by the most confusing sight. Her tail… was round. Like a pompom. A blue, puffy pompom. Not as small as a rabbit's tail, but more like a beach ball. "M-miss? If you don't mind me asking—"

"It's a birth defect. Extra cartilage. Yet it's really soft. But everyone makes fun of it. They say it's just 'extra baggage.'" She said that last part quietly and slowly hung her head. He shook his head and stood back.

"W-what? It's beautiful! Why would anyone say such a horrendous thing about—" he stopped himself, realizing what he just said. Her ears perked up and she looked at him, what he interpreted to be an offended expression. "Oh, dear. I'm sorry, miss," he said, flattening his ears. "I-I was getting ahead of myself. Please forgive me." He pushed his glasses up and swallowed. She stepped back.

"Nobody… nobody… has ever said that to me… ever" she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

"M-miss I'm so sorr—" He was interrupted by the sound of a bag hitting concrete. Something hit him that made his weight to shift to the right, causing him to cringe. He heard deep, sharp breaths and slow, sorrowful moans. The little girl began to cry. He had no idea what to make of this. The lucario frowned.

"You…" she said quietly. "Have no idea how much that means to me…" she cried. "Thank you, so much." She stood there for as long as she could, squeezing onto his leg like it was her lifeline. Her breath permeated his pants and warmed his leg, making him shudder.

"Uh… miss," he said quietly. "The… uh… bus is coming." He leaned forward and pointed down the street. The sounds of breaks screaming echoed down the empty boulevard, filling both of their ears. She let go hastily and wiped off her tears, sniffing. The bus screeched to a stop, and the doors opened. He got on, the bus letting out a metallic groan as his weight was put onto the bus. He was relatively thin compared to other lucario, but he was still a steel-type. His bones were thinner than pokémon of his size, but lucario have a thick coating of metal on all of their bones. Despite his size and how thin he is, he's easily 200 pounds.

The girl following him had the same anatomy, topping herself off at 150, when an average girl of her size should be 90.

He slid past the crowd that was already there, getting weird looks and stink eyes as he went to an empty seat. He sat down next to a machamp, who scooted away and groaned. The lucario let out a sigh at his reaction, and the bus began to move. He saw the girl struggling to stand and hold the pole; her fingers were so numb she couldn't grip it properly. He looked at her and waved his hand to an empty seat next to him, and she quickly stumbled to it. She sat down and breathed a heavy sigh of relief, closing her eyes. He chuckled.

"Cold out there, isn't it?"

"Yeah, very" she said. He looked out the opposite window, enjoying the slanted raindrops slithering on the glass. He heard her softly snoring, and turned his head. The lucario saw a combusken looking at the girl quite proactively, wearing a slight smirk that would easily terrify anyone. But he's been through intimidation before. The combusken shuffled over a few inches toward the girl, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. The lucario let out a sharp exhale through his nostrils, getting his attention. He looked at him and frowned angrily. The eccentric lucario let his jaw hang a little, letting out a deep growl as an icy mist slowly poured out of his mouth, giving the chicken a deathly stare. The combusken's eyes widened, and he shuffled away. He closed his mouth and stopped growling, hearing her stop snoring. She sniffed and yawned, showing off her pointy canines. The girl smaked her lips ans smiled at him.

"Hey, mister. I never caught your name," she said, tilting her head.

"I'm Mason. Mason Bright. But my students call me Mr. Bright."

"Cool name. I'm Allison."

"Well it's nice to meet you, Allison." The bus's breaks screeched and came to a dull stop, letting out a hiss of air. "That's my stop. I hope to see you again, Allison" he said, getting up. She got up and followed him.

"I hope to see you, too." The two got went down the bus, the vehicle letting out a groan of relief as Mason and Allison stepped off. They both walked to an apartment complex.

Mason was getting nervous when the girl went up the same flights of stairs as he did, and walked down the same hall as he did. He was even more paranoid when she stopped behind him once he got to his door.

"Excuse me, Allison, why are you following me?" he said, turning around.

"I-I'm not. My parents live here" she said, pointing to the door opposite from his.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Well… goodnight" he said, turning around to unlock his door.

"Goodnight" she said, doing the same. Mason stepped into his apartment, closing and locking the door behind him. He set his umbrella in a tall basket by the front door and leaned his suitcase against the wall. He sat on the couch and began to take off his shoes.

"Well… it seems as though there's two freaks in this world, eh?" he said, not talking to anyone in particular.

Well, this chapter is finally over. Finally. I'll churn out another one within the week, so please stay tuned! I've already written this story once! I just need to re-write it due to spelling, grammar, and other nitpicky stuff that people like St. Elmo's Fire would brood about.