for no good reason
x
The whir of the fan usually goes unnoticed but today it's all that I can hear. It's late April, so close to the end of the school term that it's almost painful to walk into the annex of the Viridian Trainer school building, the only place in town reserved entirely for classes. Teachers make good pay in Viridian, not quite enough to live in luxury but scraping past what it takes to survive comfortably. It's for that reason that I got a job as one, and that there are few other careers than the Pokémart and a few cafés scattered around Malachite Lane that take up part-timers.
The midday bell rings and the kindergarten students, all four and five-year-olds, scamper out to have lunch. They all have small coins of Poké from their parents, enough to go to most any place on Malachite and get a decent snack. Viridian's school is close enough that there are no worries of children getting lost, and the streets aren't paved or pleasant enough for vehicles. Some older kids ride their bikes, but they know to be careful.
I stand, stretching for a bit until my back pops loudly, and I can hear fabric rustling, Leaf looking over at me from her spot at her own desk not ten feet away. We share a glance and peer outside, watch the younger kids walking together, talking aimlessly as they chew on apples or sip from cartons of Moomoo milk.
There are papers shuffled on her lap, kept from wrinkling by a scarred clipboard underneath, and she's clicking the button of her mechanical pencil, pushing the graphite out and in, out and in. Her feet bob to an off-beat tempo on top of her desk and she shoves back a few strands of ash brown hair behind an ear, a few more tendrils falling out of her short ponytail. She cut it a few years back, a while after we finished the League's challenge, and after Red took off to Mt Silver on the League's latest task. She's kept it similar since, just about the length it had been when we all started out together.
She's been sitting still for most of the day. We trade off sometimes, one of us grading papers while the other watches the kids work on their type charts and moveset creation. And sometimes we do one thing together. But today she's been grading for hours, and she hisses, dropping her pencil when her hand cramps. Leaf's worked herself harder than usual the past few days, ever since a Celadon stranger drove into town, taking up a place in the only tiny inn Viridian has to offer and asking her for help with his academy back in the city.
But I know Leaf, and as much of an adventurer she is, she's rare to leave what she knows. That's probably why she's content to work here, a young Trainer teacher in a town lost between flyover country and a hazy dust storm, the everlasting Kanto savannah.
I give her a look. "You can't just sit there all day."
The brunette looks at me, and her eyes are barley aflame. "I've done it before. Never underestimate my ability to idle." And I can see it in the downward twitch of her lips, a persistent city man who wants a Champion's shadow. She used to live in a few of the big places, and was born in one of them, places where people like those of Viridian don't belong most. It's a wonder that she fits in so well.
"So, Celadon. What's up with him?" I take a seat on the edge of her desk and although she doesn't let the kids do it, or the teachers who visit from the older blocks, she doesn't mind so much with me. I take it to be a compliment and wait for her response as she brushes her hair back again and makes a few marks with her pencil. She circles a few spots, and writes in others, and finally boxes an 83 at the top.
I've known Leaf since we went to the school we work in now, and since our best friend walked on dry soil and breathed heavy, timeless air. But that doesn't make her any less difficult to read when she says, quiet, "Nothing much. Haven't seen him so often, I think he's going back in the week." Her shoulders are slack, eyes calm and neutral. It doesn't bother her in the least.
I'm nervous with the way she says nothing about herself - that's not the answer I'm looking for. "And where'll you be going?"
She looks up at me, brow raised sharply, but her burning eyes are bordering on worry. "What makes you think I'm leaving?"
At that, I let out a relieved huff and stand. There's dust kicking up outside, walking on the breeze. "Just thought you'd like your exciting city life back is all," I say, and I can tell in the way she looks at me with her brow furrowed that that's not quite what she's hearing.
"I don't have to have a reason to go to the city." Even though I know that, hearing it - that she could go without a trace, leave me behind like Red left us both - hurts, just a bit. "If I wanted to be somewhere else, I'd have packed my bags already. You know that."
"Yeah, I guess so," I hum, kicking at a soccer ball that stills beneath her desk. It drifts forward and disappears under the larger tables that the kids sit at; I don't bother to go and get it. We both know that it's not quite true, and that she stays out of obligation, whether for Red or for me neither of us is really sure. Leaf has always been the stronger one, more able to bear the pain of loss, more able to compensate for other peoples' hurt. She's done it before.
The windows are fogged with heat, and in her seat she seems a little wilted. "I'll go grab drinks," I offer. She nods, sending me an appreciative glance as she goes back to grading. The kids won't be back for another hour or so. We have time.
When I take off for the Mart, only a minute's walk off, I look back for a moment halfway through the park that serves as a school yard to see her through the open window. It's dark inside, such little light in sight that it looks as if the world around her has gone dark. It strikes me how completely alone she looks.
x
I get back from the shop, two lemonades in hand, almost four minutes later only to spot a familiar cherry motorbike parked on the grass off the dirt road leading up to the school. And out walks the owner himself, hair styled with gel and clothes of too-bright colors glaring through the shade.
The shorter man strides over, boots thumping on the grass. A few kids stare from a ways off, and the Viridians don't look at him much. I stare pointedly at the ground between us, and the window where Leaf sits when she grades. She isn't there anymore, but I can see her puttering around inside, pushing in chairs and hanging up drawings.
Celadon coughs to get my attention, and when I look at him he leans back a bit, eyes on edge. He's been here for weeks, now, but that doesn't mean he's welcome.
"Nice weather," he greets, hands in his pockets. I can feel the water budding on the sodas in my hands, but I stay and listen all the same. A few more children stop to stare. It isn't quite rude enough to bring about admonishment - not when it's at him.
The shade is the only thing keeping most people sane, in this weather. "Not really. But then again, most of us prefer the rain. Too much sun hurts the eyes."
"Suppose so," he concedes. I finally look at him and he's staring straight at me through sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He looks so much like Red that it burns behind my eyes; I hate him a little more for that.
A glance at the window tells me that Leaf saw us, and that she won't be looking out again, for a while. Until the cherry red of the motorbike is out of sight, at least. It won't quite ever be out of mind.
There's something off in the way he looks back at that same window, and the way there's a baseball cap clutched in his fingers, red and white with a circle on the front. I'm distinctly reminded of why people like him aren't welcome here, and why Leaf hates him so much. How could she not, with his face that belongs so far away? "You cheated," I say, hushed in the dust that kicks up again at my ankles.
He's out of place, here. "Everyone cheats, that's the only way to win."
Maybe it's true. But I catch a view of burning fields and white summer air, and I can hear her voice as we walk back to our houses in Pallet ten minutes away, the sky dark as a blackout. Her steps are almost silent, her hand a whisper in mine. We've done it since we were kids, walked home together; held onto each other in a crowd, or when it's dark enough to lose each other's noise.
Three was never too many till Red left.
"I guess so," I say, and I can't be bothered to stick around any longer. I can feel his eyes on me though, watching as I jog over to the window where Leaf leans out to take the drinks from my hands, setting them on her desk to come back over and help me clamber in. He's hard to ignore, but she manages to cut striking auburn eyes out of her mind's eye so I do my best to do the same.
x
A/N: let's play "I spy the author's favorite pairing"
