A man strips his murdered god. Frenzied revelry accompanies his deification.
God knows no regret. God knows to doubt. God rules.
The worshippers fall quiet.
Another slayer steps onto the ring.
The sea burns and the earth shatters.
One kneels in the ruins of boundless ambition.
To steal fire from the gods.
Anathema born of the hands of man.
Leaf
A gentle breeze wafted through the open window, carrying the rustling of treetops and the mewling of domesticated Meowth and Zigzagoon in heat into the dark room. The mellow tunes of an alarm answered and found Leaf sitting on the windowsill. Her cheek rested on her knee, the other leg dangling daringly outside. Quite comfortable where she sat, the young woman let the song play a while longer, staring out as the grey of pre-dawn spread over Pallet like a thick, suffocating blanket.
Angry pounding on the wall moments later told her that Brendan had pulled another all-nighter, and that his tolerance for disturbance was lower than she remembered.
'Welcome back, Alice.'
She dragged herself off the windowsill with a sigh and plodded across the room to the bedside table, half-heartedly pounding back her answer before she slapped a hand on the hard plastic of the clock. Like that, the instruments were muted.
So close to the soft mattress, she could easily see herself diving face-first into the pillow and forget about the world. Weather the rainy day inside or something. Her body craved the rest and made its opinion known by warping her face into a full-mouthed yawn.
Mew, she hated insomnia.
She relied on routine and habit to carry her through the motions. The knots she had kicked the sheets into by tossing around in the bed were smoothed and the bed made at a sharp, almost-but-not-quite-ninety-degree angle that would have earned her a reproach by the Ranger Outpost. Still clad in a t-shirt and shorts, she kicked her dirty uniform into a heap in the corner as she tied her hair back into a high pony-tail. Popping her neck, she then bent over at her waist, letting her forehead brush her knees and grasping at her ankles for long moments before straightening and arching her back. She sighed in relief at the pops the motions elicited.
The morning work-out and stretching carried on for twenty more minutes. Leaf let her thoughts drift away. After two months under the thumb and whip of Senior Ranger Shawn, the light aches and sore muscles were a familiar and almost comforting presence, with the added bonus of clearing her head of unwelcome thoughts.
Of course, as soon as the words crossed her mind, those thoughts came back with a vengeance.
She retreated to the bathroom and her feet still remembered the way well enough she didn't need any lights. The cold water from the tap hammered into submission what drowsiness the exercises had not, but staring into the mirror, Leaf couldn't miss the dark bags under her eyes, nor how sticky her cheeks were under her fingers before a good brushing.
The shower spluttered before hot water hosed her from above. How long she remained there, forehead against the glazed tiles, she didn't know, but Brendan was trying to punch a hole through the door by the time she wrapped a towel around herself and dried her hair.
"I hope you didn't use all the hot water," her little brother greeted her on the door, craning his head up just a little to stare at her in the eye. Leaf resisted the sudden, unbidden urge to bear-hug her little brother and instead ruffled his short black hair as she passed, smiling thinly as he slammed the door shut with a grunt.
He was lucky mother was out of ear's reach when his muttered cussing followed her into the corridor.
Her mother, Marleen, had yet to come downstairs when Leaf braved the morning chill, holding a small feed bag tucked under one arm. The weather was still pleasantly cool under the veranda and she relished the sensation after long days spent sweating in her stuffy trainee uniform, shouldering a backpack and crossbow across the southern reaches of Kanto.
Her conscience spurred her forward after a few moments of remembrance and she stepped into the front garden proper. Her free hand reached for her belt and unclipped the only pokeball there from the magnetic clasp with a small click. It enlarged into her hand at the press of another button.
Red pokepower flashed through the double lenses and she instinctively braced her shoulder against the light recoil. The light coalesced in a squat, wide shape as tall as her hip, covered in mottled cyan hide and standing of four sturdy legs. A large pink bud, recently bloomed atop a short trunk, dominated the pokemon's wide back, surrounded by Leaf fronds and curled vines.
The Ivysaur's thin nostrils flared as it picked up the strong scent of soap surrounding Leaf, but it immediately approached with surprising nimbleness and rubbed his large face eagerly against her leg. He looked up at the bag under her arm with wide, demanding eyes.
"Freyr, you glutton!" Leaf reprimanded and playfully swatted away the vines sneaking up to grab the bag. She knelt and scratched him behind his small, triangular ears and on the angular head, eliciting a pleased rumble that failed to distract her from another attempt at the bag. Grinning despite herself, Leaf took her time to appreciate the growth spurt that saw her Ivysaur nearly double in size in the two weeks since his evolution.
"Look at you, all sharp leaves and spore sacks. I'm so proud of you," she said as she took the scratching to the pokemon's belly. Freyr rumbled in appreciation. "Gardenia grows the best stuff, and I bet they taste good too, hmm? No more Celadon hand-downs for you, big boy." The sneaky vines were thicker too, she noticed as she flailed the bag around and they chased in mock-pursuit. She was quite confident next time they practiced his aim with Razor Leaf, they'd turn the target tree to shreds.
"Fine, fine, you spoiled dyno," she sighed theatrically, loosening the strings around the bag. Freyr knew his manners and thrust his head into it only once her hands cleared the area, poking a few vines in the small gaps to help the food quicker into his crunching maws. "Slow down or you're gonna choke on it," she sighed as she sat on the ground beside her pokemon, leaning in until her ear pressed against his side. Closing her eyes, she focused on Freyr's heartbeat, strong and steady.
"You never leave me, okay?" she whispered against him. To her surprise, Freyr stopped munching down on the pokefood for a long moment. The growl was soft by his gravelly standards, but under her ear, his whole body vibrated like a soundbox.
The nagging prickling at the base of her skull alerted her she was being watched. Knowing the offender's identity already, she pushed down the spike of annoyance as the peace in the front garden was shattered and lifted her eyes to the windows looking out on the garden.
Brendan held his sister's gaze unashamedly, doing a poor job at hiding his teenager envy and resentment, then jerked the bathroom curtain close and was gone.
Leaf sighed and leaned heavily on Freyr, staring up at the sky until the sun was just a little higher.
"Another pancake, Brendan?" Marleen asked, ignoring her own glaring, empty platter.
The thirteen – almost fourteen, a mocking voice inside her head reminded her - years old didn't bother to lift his nose form the thick tome he buried himself into. The cover said Advanced Pokephysiology, Volume III by Dr. Arthur Elm.
"I'm not hungry."
Silence.
"Some apple juice then?"
"I said I'm fine."
Silence.
Leaf forked another pancake and forced it down her gullet, ignoring the clenching of her stomach and the nausea building as she swallowed too much syrup. Marleen offered her a bleak smile, a small thing she might as well have imagined, her fork toying with the food Leaf put in her plate while she was distracted coaxing her youngest.
In short, breakfast was a depressing matter.
Brendan barely acknowledged anyone else's presence at the table, angsting against the world with the passive aggressiveness of a teen who'd been denied what he felt was his right. Marleen was already clad in black, red-rimmed hazel eyes clean of any make-up that could conceal her puffy face.
To her continued shame, Leaf fought down another yawn, glancing sideways at her mother and then grimacing into her plate as her mind flashed to the previous night. Only two months and had already forgotten how thin the walls were at home.
She jumped out of her chair to take dish duties, a quick, selfish respite from her mother's grief and the urge to cuff Brendan behind the ear for being an insensitive little twat. She bided her time spying on Freyr in the garden, the pokemon basking in his morning sunbath, until her hands itched from the all the scrubbing and Brandon was persuaded to go and change. Then she went to her room and followed her own advice.
Her dress stank of brand new mourning attires, and itched like Venomoth's poison against her skin. She wondered whether she ought to pack it when she returned to the Outpost. None of her fellow trainees or any among the older Rangers met their end on duty during her two-months stay, but in his speech at orientation, Ranger Shawn curtly informed them that death for a Ranger was only another part of the job.
She was pretty sure they were pretty informal about it, though. No dress then. In a moment of inspiration, she decided she'd hide it at the bottom of her cupboard in the afternoon and then forget all about it.
They crossed paths with the Oaks halfway to the cemetery. Leaf didn't know whether to feel relieved or despair. Neither did her stomach.
"Look, Gramps, it's Miss Leaf and Alice. Oh, they brought out the little runt along too."
Professor Samuel Oak's scowl would have cowed a Dragonite, but Gary shrugged it off with enviable nonchalance and the ease of long practice under extreme circumstances.
"It's good to see you, Brendan," interjected Daisy, flashing him a sincere smile. Brendan blushed to the root of his hair, snappy comeback forgotten. Leaf heard Gary's smirk in his voice as he slid to her side.
"Yep, runt's still carrying the torch. Moltres better watch his godly tail. Fifty idols say the awkwardness at the gathering later will hit the ceiling when Red shows up."
Leaf swallowed her first answer and the corners of her mouth turned up after a moment of stubborn coaxing. His own smirk was stretched and strained in the forced attempt at humor. He almost vibrated with the effort it took him to purport his usual confident front, to stop the shoulders from slouching under the weight of the finely-cut black suit. There were dark rims under his eyes too, mirroring hers. Dark, not red. Gary never cried.
"Have you seen Red today?" Have you seen him at all, she wanted to ask. Has anyone? But she knew she had no right to be that pushy or demanding.
His smile grew stiff, then melted into a grimace. "Gramps talked to him yesterday. Wouldn't tell me much, though. I went to his house earlier this morning. He didn't answer the door, ignored the pebbles I threw at his window. He must have told Pennywise he didn't want to see anyone." Leaf glared at him, and he glared right back. "Don't look at me like that, woman. I didn't see you there, and it's not like I could order Merry to burn down the house around him to smoke him out. Besides, he's got the rat with him."
Leaf frowned at him. A quick look showed the two of them already lagged behind the rest of their families.
"He just lost his mom, Blue!" The nickname rolled off her tongue with the familiarity and load of shared memories. "We are his friends. His only friends," she hissed, feeling the jab of guilt that more keenly.
A little further ahead, Professor Oak's patience grew thinner with each of Brendan's questions on obscure pokelore. Daisy led the small procession, one arm steadying Marleen and talking quietly into her ear, and Leaf bit down on her lips when she noticed how her mother's shoulders were trembling.
"We can't leave him alone," she continued, more subdued. "I went to him last night, as soon as I arrived, but he didn't open to me either. The lights were out too."
Gary grunted, and they continued in silence for a short while. Professor Oak eventually silenced Brendan with a large paw-like hand on the boy's shoulder that screamed Deal. With. It. and walked up to Marleen's other side, placing a strong arm around her shoulders. Leaf's mother leaned in as sobs continued to rock her, but her posture eased somewhat shortly after.
Leaf didn't miss the withering look Brendan burned into the Professor's back.
"I'm worried," she said to no one in particular, words smashing against the wall of Gary's endured silence.
"Yeah, me too," Gary said finally, then shrugged, tilting his head forward, "but Red is a tough one. He's probably there already, waiting for us lazy asses to show up."
The already sparse houses were falling behind them by then. The paved road led into an open field on the eastern edge of Pallet Town, boxed in by the tree line to the east and a low hill to the north, where a sentry tower shot up above the treetops. The town walls, sturdy and thick, were a common fixture in the lower half of her vision wherever she turned her head. To the south, beyond the odd farmhouses and isolated homesteads, the bay widened and the silhouettes of fishing boats, water pokemon and white sails dotted the glittering waters.
"The weather is awfully beautiful today," said Gary, breaching the uneasy silence with a lame remark. "It's mocking us, the bastard." At any other time Leaf would have done a double-take and checked the air for hallucinogens.
Gary Oak, seducer extraordinaire and alpha social beast, choking on his words so much he defiled his own reputation by talking about the weather? Red would have teased him mercilessly until both their hair was gray.
Right now, though, it only made her sad to be unable to keep up or even start a decent conversation with a friend she grew up with, without the missing third of their group present as well.
'Who says they'd even consider you, then?'
The cemetery wasn't a large thing, barely a couple hundred simple tombstones engraved over a couple decades and surrounded by a simple iron fence. Gary's and Daisy's parents were there, and so was the aunt Leaf barely remembered from the welcome party when her family moved in from Sinnoh. Aunt Mildred, right.
Only those who died at home or within the reaches of civilization got a proper burial these days: despite Team Rocket's proclaims on human advancement and humanity's growing dominance over the unknown by determination and ingenuity, the wilderness still swallowed many, often without trace. A memorial stone, over ten feet tall and erected way further into the graveyard, reported the names of those confirmed or presumed dead, but whose bodies were never recovered.
"Looks like they're waiting for us to begin."
The grounds were crowded already, townsfolk milling in small gaggles around the wide hole in the earth and the simple but elegant coffin. Leaf was fairly sure the Professor had dealt with the ceremony's details and covered the costs himself, to spare Red the burden and leave him the funds to start his journey. Looking at Professor Oak now, busily talking with the minister, yet always within arms' reach of mom and Daisy, she felt grateful and guilty at the same time.
"Hoy, Alice," Gary hissed, reading her mood while searching the crowd. "Stop beating yourself over it. You made a choice. Red may not like it - hell you know I don't - but we respect that, even if he's too proud to admit it." A calloused hand fell on her shoulder, rubbing the tenseness under the black fabric of her dress. "Even if you hadn't, there's nothing you could have done to prevent all… all of this shit." His tone faltered, and Gary swallowed tickly before sliding his mask firmly on his face. Leaf hoped the little cracks on its surface were visible only to her.
"Now work those Ranger's eyes, I can't see him."
Leaf spotted the town mayor, the sheriff and most of the town brass at first glance, along with many well-wishers and a few off-duty militiamen. That was hardly a surprise: Pallet was a tight-knit community, like any peaceful former-frontier towns from Orre all the way to the Sevii Isles.
The old fishwives could caw about Red's appearance as an omen of the Darkrai and the coming of the Absols until they shouted themselves hoarse, but Delia had been a pillar of the community, kind and well-loved.
Leaf honestly expected Gary and herself to be the only ones from their former Trainer School Graduation class. To her bemusement, however, she spotted Douglas, the sheriff's son, someone she hadn't seen in years. The cast around his arm and the generous bandaging, however, spoke volumes of the reason of his sojourn.
A few of the other Frontier Trainers who left with or after him, she figured would still be challenging the Gym Circuits. Many more she knew were not: the lucky ones had enrolled into the military or the Rangers after a year of scraping by, or returned home wounded, their spirit broken by horror and, often, the tragic loss of their starter.
The less lucky were recovered in the wilderness by the Rangers in the past two or three years, their bodies often mangled beyond recognition by wild pokemon and poor judgment. Many had simply vanished, never to be seen again. Nearly half the teens who less the School early now had their names of the memorial stone.
The Frontier Act had been the cause of it all, and still seeded grief. A law validated by the Indigo Plateau two years before, around the same time the cheaper Pokedex v. 2.7 from Johto flooded the markets, it had made sure many their year and as young as twelve with only half their education complete, if that, rather than after a full graduation at sixteen. Safety for the Borders and Tame the Untameable were just two of the many mottos that sprung up at the time on TV and ads.
The result had been hundreds of pre-teen students all around Kanto setting out in confident, but ultimately half-assed, unprepared attempts at a Trainer Career to challenge the Gym Circuit, high on the League's sponsorship for the Act.
It nearly lost Grand Champion Lance his position, and not by combat.
"Everyone wants a Trainer in the family. They see the fame and up the social ladder from having an Eight-Badger in the family and the money that comes with success. And today's trash media do little to discourage that view, while downplaying the actual risks under gadgets and brand new technology," she remembered the Professor grumble at dinner once, unusually glum rather than pleasantly somber. The monthly bulletin had rolled in just that afternoon, she recalled. "Few are ever ready when the risks and consequences come knocking."
Twisting her neck around so fast it almost gave her whiplash, she roamed her eyes over the assembled crowd again, searching for a familiar head of black hair taller than Brendan's or hell, even his worn, trademark hat. She saw Gary mimicking her for a while longer, then stride up to his grandfather, trying to hide his alarm. Leaf came to the same conclusion a moment later.
Red wasn't there.
Leaf hurried behind Gary, storming past a bemused Brendan. The Professor met them halfway, having wrestled himself away from the modest but insistent questions of a gaggle of particular inquisitive senile chatterboxes.
There was no mistake the words heartless freak when the leader of the gaggle turned to whisper to her peers. Gary heard it too, and Leaf had to grab him by the elbow before he aimed the infamous Oak tongue at lashing some of the skin from their wrinkled backs.
"The fuck is your problem?!" he hissed, jerking his arm away. "Those crones need a lesson or two in respect."
"Hold your ponytas, Gary," said the Professor, one meaty hand holding the belligerent young man still with considerable more ease than Leaf. "This is Delia's funeral, not one of your stages. Show some of that respect you're preaching. I taught you better."
Gary gave him the evil eye, but the Professor had already turned to Leaf. "Go with Gary and check up on Red, see if you can't bring him here. If not, stay with him." The Professor leaned in closer, and Leaf saw the lines around his eyes and mouth deepen like ravines as he grimaced. "Daisy and I will hold the fort, postpone the rites for a while longer. If you're not here by the time the ceremony is over, I'll meet you at Red's and see how we can help him."
Leaf hesitated, then nodded, the knot of worry stopping her larynx from articulating. Gary was brisker, but the Professor wasn't done with him.
"Be gentle and understanding Gary, and keep your pokemon ready. Pikachu is likely to feel and share Red's grief, and she's foul tempered to begin with. Protective, too. Pennywise might be able to help there."
The front door to Red's house swung open as Leaf's hand brushed hovered on the brass knob.
The Ranger trainee jumped back in surprise, tripping on Freyr's bulk and landing on her backside with an undignified yelp. Gary's more aggressive Charmeleon, Merry, a deep crimson red anthropomorphic lizard as tall as her trainer and a few stones heavier, bared her claws and roared a challenge.
Gary's barked command made the tall pokemon settle on her haunches. Her teeth were still flashing, her tail flame engorged, fueled by emotion.
Gary grabbed the lizard across the snout and wrenched, glaring into the pokemon's narrow eyes. "Back down, Merry!"
Draconic pokemon and trainer locked gazes for endless moments, then the pokemon shifted and his flaming tail lowered only a few inches, the flame dimming a fraction in a grudging show of acknowledgment, as much as submission.
Leaf sent a small mental thanks to Gardenia all the way to Eterna City as Freyr's strong vines helped her back on her feet, then straightened and found herself with a face full of madly gesticulating.
Pennywise was almost dancing on the doorsill, arms flailing wide and fingers twisting and knotting faster than the untrained eye could track. For a Mr. Mime, it might as well be blabbing incoherently. Its face, fixed in the samecalm, neutral look since she had memory of it, only made the whole exhibition weirder. And a whole lot more creepier.
"Penny. Penny! It's me, Leaf." Freyr moved up to her trainer's side, but Leaf's pleading look for translation went unanswered. The Ivysaur stared at the panicked with a look of deep reptilian confusion.
"Slow down, we can't understand you." She could as well be talking to a stone for the good her words did. Trying another approach, she lunged for Pennywise's wrists and knelt to face the pokemon, shaking it. Most pokemon respected and answered to shows of authority, and Pennywise, while a psychic pokemon, was hardly different. "Where is Red? Where is Pikachu?"
Penny halted its frolicking mid-motion, then grabbed Leaf's sleeves with its lollypop fingers and made to drag her inside. Leaf meekly followed, too bemused to resist, then almost stumbled in surprise, gaping.
"By Mew… what the fuck's going on here?" Gary breathed, followinf a step behind her. His eyes went wide as saucers.
The large room that made up most of Red's house ground floor looked like the site of a Rampage.
Scorch marks blackened the walls and the floor under the broken, charred pieces of what Leaf vaguely recognized as furniture. Delia's delicate flower vases were shattered, leaving a mix of stems and delicate ceramics carpeting the floor. The shutters of the kitchen furniture hung from the hinges, dangling dangerously, and someone – or something – had managed to crack the stone counter in the kitchen with a sledgehammer. The metal head was still lodged there, but the rest of the broken shaft, speckled in blood, had joined the rest of the garbage on the ground.
"That – wasn't that in the toolshed?" she asked in a whisper, stepping cautiously inside. Ceramics and glass cracked and crunched underfoot as they advanced deeper in the once pristine home. Penny was tugging at her sleeve, but Leaf was hard-pressed to take in the utter destruction, much less heed the pokemon.
The sledgehammer had mowed victims and imparted destruction all around the room. Family pictures lay torn in broken frames, there were several holes in the plaster, and the fridge door was hammered almost all the way through. The lightbulbs had exploded, their broken, burnt husks still flashing with sparks, but the only illumination came from the curtained windows and the open door, both unblemished. The result shrouded the whole room in an unsettling, dim stillness.
Oddest yet was the isle of tranquility in the middle of the storm. The dinner table was untouched, two chairs pushed only slightly at an angle. The tea set on it, complete with a cold brewer, and the flower pot gracing the middle of the table had remained untouched.
The first question to creep through Leaf's reeling thoughts, How could nobody hear anything? was quickly toppled by more, the dam breaking.
'Was it Red? Pikachu? How - when - why? Who else was here?'
Gary's fist slammed against the counter; it shook Leaf out of her horrified contemplation. He was hunched over, shoulders shaking with tension. His fist slammed again and again ontp the counter, until blood smeared his knuckles.
"Gary, stop!" She darted to him, grabbing his wrist before he could harm himself anymore. Up close, she could see his face was flushed, his teeth bared in a snarl not unlike Merry's. He yanked his arm free and pounded a bloodied fist against the only intact shutter, almost punching a hole through, then stalked to the center of the room, fisting his hair in his hands.
"That. Fucking. Cheat!"
Outside, Merry echoed her trainer's frustration with a full-throated roar that ought to attract half of Pallet. Increasingly confused, Leaf's mouth opened and closed as she tried to work out a question, an answer, something, but to no avail.
She leaned against the counter, wary of the stuck piece and trying to wrap her head around in Arceus was going on, when she felt Pennywise push something into her free hand.
Looking down, she found herself staring at the back of a torn photograph. It pictured a much younger Delia playing with a baby Red, who stretched his chubby fingers to touch the pikachu marionette in his mother's hand. He could be no older than two, but that oversized hat was already askew on his head. She frowned at the Mr. Mime, and the pokemon made the universal gesture of turning with one hand.
She complied, and her blood turned to ice.
See you at the top Blue.
"Fucking. Cheat!"
'Blue'
Numbly, she thought it odd for the degenerate to forget to sign his own name.
"Gramps has called in the cavalry," Gary said, before he recalled Merry and sprinted away, disappearing into a side alley.
Leaf was still too stunned to think proactively like that. She sunk into a rickety patio chair in the front garden, clutching Red's parting message in one hand, staring into nothing. Freyr slumped to the ground beside her, but she barely noticed the thick vine wrapped gently around her fist.
'Blue'.
A couple of ACE trainers in combat armor stepped past her and into the house, followed closely by the sheriff, an ugly look on his mustachioed face. A Xatu and a large Growlithe preceded them inside, to divine the past and catch any foreign smells. She distantly realized, her thumb brushing against the message, that Gary and her had probably only messed things further.
Then Professor Oak was kneeling in front of her, but the hand on her shoulder was stiff and demanding.
Still, let it never be said the Professor was uncouth to anyone but politicos and the press.
"Daisy is with Marleen and your brother." He paused and looked around, a frown already marring his brow. "Gary left?"
Leaf nodded and held up the half photo. "He's gone," she croaked, throat tight.
An ugly cloud darkened the Professor's face as he read the few words. He turned to the two ACE trainers at his heels and handed the picture to one, muttering orders with grave finality. A few moments later, one of the trainers teleported away by Abra, while the other – a man past his thirties, she noticed – took off on a Fearow.
"He'll stop Gary before he does something stupid while his blood is up," he offered her, voice strained and tired. He crouched again before her and idly scratched Freyr behind the ears. "Red can't be too far, I talked to him yesterday. He'll be somewhere in the outskirts of Viridian, at the furthest."
'Then why the ACE trainers? Why the Xatu?' "He's gone."
"Leaf, he's technically an adult, but he's confused and in a lot of pain. It will be –"
"He's gone. Gone!" she exploded, shooting on her feet. "Delia is still warm and he packs up and fucking leaves without telling a soul! He and his rat razed the house and all he deigns to leave is a damn note for Gary to chase after him in that half-assed dream of theirs that will get them killed before they reach Pewter!"
The Professor backed up a step and let her vent, showing little surprise at the outburst. He waved away the ACE trainer who poked her head out and waited patiently for her breath to run out. When she stopped for breath, chest heaving, he struck.
"You're upset because he didn't tell you," he stated, the authority in his voice and stance leaving no room for doubt or debate.
She gave the Professor the stink eye, the usual awe for the greatest mind in Kanto – in the whole fucking world - evaporating. "I'm upset because he didn't even wait to bury his mother!"
"Don't expect Red to behave like you would. He never did. He's grieving, I'm sure, but Delia had been sick for months. This," he gestured at the house, mouth pressing in a thin line, "this may be his way of coping with loss, odd and violent as it seems. My concern right now is to see him safe somewhere he can recover and think, before he makes a fatal mistake while the pain is still fresh and clouding his judgement."
He riveted her with an unimpressed look. "You, instead, are throwing a selfish tantrum I might expect from your brother, because Red left the message to Gary and ignored you."
Leaf recoiled as if slapped and ground her teeth. Shame, guilt, and anger welled up and merged inside her into one ugly whirlpool. She struggled with herself not to admit it, to refuse the accusation, but the Professor was right. Of course he was right, but the ease with which he bared her pettiness was humiliating. She felt disgusted at her own selfishness.
Yet still some part of her, the part that pushed her forward during trek marches when her body screamed at her to stop, the part that matched Brendan shout for shout when she discovered him packing for Viridian to join the other Frontier wannabees, that part urged her to bit back that no, the old geezer got it completely wrong for once.
He wasn't entitled to scold and reproach her only because mother liked to have him around, and he her.
He was, however, by virtue of being the Kanto Pokemon Professor, and the closest thing she ever had to a firm, but gentle uncle.
Leaf clamped her mouth shut and bit down hard on her riposte. Her gut told her his comeback would floor her and mop Red's house with what remained of her ego.
Freyr rose on his haunches, canines flashing and pressing his body against the side of the patio chair, sensing his trainer's growing distress. Leaf flinched as the vine grip tightened around her wrist, but she still found herself holding the Professor's disappointed stare, equal parts stubbornness and magnetic masochism.
"It's not for me or you to demean their ambition. Especially not for you," he informed her, "You spent just as much time planning the Circuit as they did. Your mother told me you even took your notes with you when you left for the Ranger Outpost."
She adopted to remain silent, seething and shamed at the same time, forcing back by sheer will any resurfacing memory of early mornings and late nights spent paging through the stained notepad. The Professor gave her one last scalding look, then pivoted on his heel, a motion that would have sent his lab coat fluttering any other day, and marched off.
"I've spent enough time with unruly children today. Go find my grandson or stay beside your mother. At least I know you won't bear down on Marleen."
With that, the Professor crossed the doorsill and shut the door behind him.
She sat on the patio chair as the sun ascended to the midmorning peak. Freyr's was a beacon of tacit support born of unwavering loyalty: it rolled in waves from the pokemon even as he dozed in the sun. Yet, for all the pokemon's presence, Leaf remained alone with her scrambling thoughts as the morning ticked by.
Sometime later, the ACE trainer who had teleported away strode past the small gate closing off Red's front garden. He carried some complex contraption Leaf couldn't even begin to guess the use of, beyond that it looked somewhat like the dish of a radio station, only smaller and with more lights, digital screens and whirring parts.
Then the sheriff stalked out, large face flushed and glowering over his shoulder at the door confining him out of the house. Neither paid any attention to her but a quick, evaluating look and an even quicker dismissal. She sheriff's hurried wave counted little in her book.
Eventually, as the sun insisted to beat a tattoo on the back of her neck and the black dress was reaching borderline self-combustion levels, she saw a few people in black trickle by and knew the ceremony was over.
Delia was gone forever. She knew it was stupid, and it flew in the face of rationality; she'd known that Delia was dead for a few days already, and had rationalized it even earlier, when her illness turned for the worst. And yet, it was the notion of her body being finally interred that seemed to put a lid on the thing. She could mourn now, and then find a way to move on.
But Red was gone too. Just like that, he disappeared without a word to anyone. At least, not to her, who had left for the Rangers while Gary and he prepared for they Pokemon journey.
It was true Red fashion, she reckoned begrudgingly. Just as unnerving and disarmingly practical as he usually was. The Professor's words struck true: she couldn't pretend to understand him, nor to measure him by her own reactions, scrambled, selfish and contradicting as they were.
Her palms were stinging. She uncurled her fist, broken nails leaving small crimson half-moons impressed in her skin. Not understanding, then. Not yet, at least. Anger and betrayal flared prominent when thinking of him - it was too raw, too much, too suddenly – and then she couldn't stand sitting any longer in his patio chair, in his garden.
Her stomach rumbled and Freyr's vine tugged at her wrist, shaken by her abrupt motion. A guilty smile found its way on her face by way of habit as she noticed the all-too-human accusing look on his face.
"Pot to kettle," she muttered, then lifted her hands in surrender at the next tug. "Fine, I yeld. But you're having none 'till tonight, or you'll grow fat."
Freyr growled, but lumbered after his trainer. As they walked through the sleepy Pallet midday, following the promise of food, however, her mind returned to wandering, unchecked by the fleeting distraction. She recognized where it was going, and brought up her tried and tested arguments against the building tide of selfish thirst.
Her mother would need her and the family would profit from her joining the Rangers. Brendan needed someone to steer him in the right direction before bitterness and wishful thinking doomed his future.
And yet…
Be it the emotional drain of the day or simply fate, the treacherous thought wormed its way from the edges of her waking mind, where it bided its time for months, chained and starved, but resilient despite her best efforts.
She balled her hands into fists around the hem of her dress as she felt it take root, despite her best efforts, and produce plausible excuses and solutions like berries.
Daisy was great, gentle, and scary smart, the sneaking voice in her mind whispered, pouring honey in her ears. More importantly, she could rein Brendan far more easily than Leaf herself ever could. Brendan looked up to the young researcher too, and what better steering hand than the willing influence of admiration, coupled with puppy love?
She didn't stop to think whether it was fair on the woman, to saddle her with her obnoxious, resentful boy.
Mother, the voice argued further, mother would have the Professor. He, of all people, could make her happy, maybe, and the presence of the Kanto Pokemon Professor would keep that man well away. A win-win situation for anyone, if she'd ever seen one.
Maybe they could do without her a little longer...
AN: This is an old pilot-project of mine I dusted up after a bout of inspiration and polished – updated to my current standard. I honestly think it could stand on its own as a character-exploration piece or a sort prequel to a story picking up much later on. The path for a full story is open too, of course. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you for reading. Let me know what you think in a review.
Alexeij