1. Fishing for Change
Fourteen.
He was only fourteen and he probably should have been as carefree and hooked on the latest distractions and fads of the pokemon world as any other kid who'd been alive for this long. He probably should have had his first kiss by now and maybe even a pretty girlfriend accompanying him wherever he went. But instead, this barely teenage boy found himself locked in the grips and throws of emotions and situations that possibly far outweighed the likes of those placed on the shoulders of other (normal) trainers his age.
Fourteen years could be the difference between a lot of things. Time itself came with the blossoming or withering of feelings. More importantly, it could reflect the invisible gap of maturity, intelligence, wisdom, and experience between two minds or-
…two hearts.
Nestled somewhere deep within this acknowledgement laid the reason why he could only stare into the irises of just one other person for so long before breaking eye contact. The dark haired boy had never met anyone so far in his life (or his adventures) whose very gaze made him feel threadbare enough to think he could save himself by looking away (let alone feel the integrity of his own soul was being clawed into).
And it scared him like the crack of thunder on a stormy night when the stars are dead and you think there just might be ghosts in the wind because it howls and moans like them. What one thinks are tree branches scratching away at the windows are really their long and spindly earthen fingers chipping away at the glass trying to reach into your bedroom.
Maybe he was afraid of what the other man would see. Maybe he was afraid that one of the few people he looked up to and could possibly understand him would see him only as a mere child. The cerulean eyed teen clenched his jaw at the possibility that maybe he wasn't who he thought he was, that how he perceived his own person was too forgiving, too kind, too generous. But if he wasn't, then who or what did Denji see whenever he gazed into the small boy's creamy face? What did Denji's own lighter shade of robin egg blue see in Kouki's dark but richer hue?
'Denji's eyes are clear crystals, a depth with endlessness like the sky.'
Unconsciously, Kouki's small and pale fingers grazed over the dried salt trails upon his cheeks while his head hung low. He peered solemnly at his reflection dancing across the gentle waves of the river he stood in.
'But mine…my eyes are dark and murky; unfathomable like the ocean.'
Two weeks after beating the league, but four weeks since earning the 8th gym badge found Kouki back at Sandgem town. Daily life resumed with the pace of running menial errands for Professor Nanakamado who, more often than not, spent most of his time outside of the lab which left Kouki in charge. But it wasn't like there was truly much for him to take care of with the professor's other assistants around who were, well, "assisting" by doing whatever it was they were doing.
They didn't really seem to pay attention to him much anyway. So, on a particular morning when Nanakamado had left with only so much as a vague "I need to check on something, I'll be back in a few days", Kouki had allowed himself to venture out to the nearby beach and wade around in the semi transparent water. The slow and rhythmic lapping of the free flowing liquid against the white sands had lulled the teen into a trance.
Kouki had been using the constant busy work as a distraction from unpleasant thoughts and memories. Sorting through documents and helping the professor compile data had preoccupied his mind pleasantly enough that he didn't dwell on Sunnyshore's famous star. Sheets upon disorganized sheets of scientific jargon crammed with numbers filled his mind and blocked out the unnerving image of the older male's electric blue eyes.
Even though the beacon badge was in his possession, there was something about the way Sinnoh's last gym leader had wantonly and openly stared at him. Even though Kouki had won by all means fair, the expression on the man's face made Kouki believe that their battle had just been a thing of his imagination. Even though Denji had lost, somehow it felt like he actually hadn't.
It was a feeling the teen couldn't shake and for good reason once he finally recalled the cryptic words that reached his ears before he had subtly fled from the electric type user after their match.
"Kouki…that wasn't the end; it was merely the beginning. You're still weak and I'm not done with you yet. I'll be waiting."
And as the brunette stood knee deep in the crystalline waters, neither the soothing coolness of it nor the shards of sunlight flitting across the surface could chase away the anxiety and trepidation he felt at those words. So he focused on the warm scarf wrapped around his neck and how his pants had gotten soaked even though they were bunched up ridiculously high around his thighs.
But then the cloudless sky and the tepid water were shades of something familiar that had temporarily escaped him until now. Upon staring more intently into his wavering reflection, Kouki gasped when he saw the image of the man he'd been trying to ignore. The dark lashes and contrasting icy gaze shadowed by golden bangs intensifying a pointed look of determination. The boy stumbled back, losing footing in the soft sand beneath him and choked on his own horror as he was swept off his feet by the current. Salt water had rushed to meet his spine and before he could take another breath the tip of his nose had already vanished beneath the surface.
Seconds slipped by before Kouki emerged and threw himself back upon drier sands, scrambling away from the shoreline in a gasping and coughing fit. As soon as he was able to crack his eyes open did he look around frantically trying to make sure no one else was there with him. His suspicions were correct; what he had seen was just a mere hallucination.
Kouki had thought that by staying as far away as possible from the source of his anxiety that he could truly escape anything related to their encounter. But he began to fearfully entertain the thought that maybe it was as Denji had said. The match, the badge, just their meeting on its own looked like a means to an end (the end of a journey) but it had also opened up the door to something else. Beyond that door was something he didn't think he could comprehend, things that he hadn't even experienced or probably knew much about. That uncertainty weighed on the teen as he lay hunched over, soaked and coated with white grains. He was afraid and his heart pulsed weakly like the faint glimmer of a dying star.
The precocious child didn't think he could step through that door because Denji was looking for something and Kouki was terrified at the possibility that he could be it. They had inexplicably drawn each other in. Some kind of painful longing had overcome his small frame, crashing in tumultuous waves upon the shores of his soul and through the internal cacophony of sound Kouki realized that the blonde had issued him a challenge of a different kind of nature.
And Kouki didn't think he could beat Denji this time. He was at the end of his line and in spite of what he was able to go through as a trainer, 14 was still different from 24. It was only a matter of seconds, minutes, or days (at most) until he sought out the other. Ticking hands bring about change. He just wasn't sure if it would be for the better or for the worst.