pro·pi·tious adjective
giving or indicating a good chance of success; favorably disposed toward someone

Chapter 1

Cheren hates the city.

He's been in Castelia two weeks now and barely leaves his hotel room. It's noisy, expensive, the streets are crowded, and the restaurants are always full. He doesn't even know what he's doing here.

He sighs and pulls on his favorite jacket. On the way out, he gives it a second thought and grabs a scarf too, knotting it securely around his neck as he latches the door behind him. It's approximately 8 p.m. in early November, and it's starting to get cold. He can't remember it ever being like this in Aspertia.

Cheren has to hide his irritation as a group of people shove their way into the cramped elevator with him on the way down. He forces a smile when the overly cheery hotel doorman greets him as he leaves. He's in a bad mood today, but that isn't unusual.

He heads towards the diner he's been eating dinner at since he arrived in the city. It's not too impressive looking from the outside, but he likes it. More importantly, it's slow this time of night, or at least as slow as it ever seems to get in Castelia. His usual waitress is talking to someone when he walks in and heads to his table in the corner, but she glances up and smiles kindly at him.

"I'll be with you in just a sec," she calls from across the restaurant.

He nods to her and idly flips through the menu even though he always ends up getting the same thing. When he glances back up, she's coming to take his order, smile still on her face.

"Same as usual?"

"Yeah. Thank you." Cheren hands her the menu and she hurries off. He fiddles with his silverware and napkin while he waits, never sure what to do when he's alone at a table. He should have brought a book, but he's read everything he has with him. He makes a mental note to find a bookstore soon. He hasn't passed by any yet, but there has to be one somewhere.

He closes his eyes and rests his chin in his hand. He's tired even though he hasn't done anything but sit around alone in his room. The bell at the door tinkles as someone comes in, and he glances at the front disinterestedly before realizing he knows the person standing there.

Shit. Why is he here?

Cheren's eyes quickly dart around the restaurant looking for a way of escape, but of course he finds none. He's considering spending the next hour hiding in the bathroom when Alder notices him, face lighting up in surprise. Too late.

"Cheren!" he exclaims, immediately rushing over and pulling him out of his chair into a hug.

"Alder," he mumbles, face smashed into the man's chest.

"What are the odds?" Alder pulls back, putting his hands on his shoulders and taking him in. "It's been a while. I think you've gotten a little taller since I last saw you. Still too skinny though."

Cheren feels vaguely like he's at a family reunion, and it makes him uncomfortable. He hates that Alder still treats him like a child after all this time. "I guess." He shrugs him off and sits back down as the man takes the chair across from him.

He hasn't seen him in at least half a year, but he notices that Alder looks basically the same as ever. He is actually wearing real pants and boots for once, but that might just be because it's cold out.

There's an awkward silence until the waitress comes back by to drop off his food. These days, Cheren just doesn't have much to say.

"If it isn't Alder!" she says, clearly recognizing him as she sets Cheren's plate down. Well, he is very recognizable. "I didn't know you two were friends. What can I get you?"

"Yeah, I've known this brat for a while now." Alder smiles at her and waves his hand briefly in Cheren's direction. "Just coffee, thanks."

"Alright, be back in a sec!"

"You should eat more than that," Alder tells him once she walks away, leaning forward and frowning at his plate.

Cheren shrugs disinterestedly. "It's fine. Salad is healthy."

"Not if that's all you eat," he argues. "Plus you picked out the tomatoes. That's the only good thing in there."

"It's not," he protests. "And I hate tomatoes."

"Yeah, yeah." Alder nods to the waitress as she brings his coffee. He's quiet for a moment as he stirs in the sugar. "So are you going to tell me what's going on?" he finally asks, looking up.

Cheren sets his fork down and sighs. Obviously eating dinner in peace isn't going to happen. This was a mistake. He should've just ordered room service. "What do you mean?"

"You disappeared, Cheren. You left someone else in charge of the gym and ran off." Alder pauses to take a sip of his coffee. "You know, you may think you can do whatever you want now that you're an adult, but your parents are worried about you. A lot of people are, actually."

Cheren groans. "You've talked to my parents?" How embarrassing.

"Yep," he says. "They've been asking around trying to find out if anyone's heard from you. Call them."

"I might."

Alder sighs, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "Seriously, what are you doing, Cheren? I heard you haven't even talked to Bianca in weeks."

It's probably been longer than that, if he's being honest. "What are you doing?" he snaps back lamely. He still doesn't know the reason himself, and it isn't like Alder can talk. He's been wandering around the region aimlessly for years. "Why are you even in Castelia?"

He shakes his head, smiling a little. "You haven't changed, you know. But I live here now. You'd probably know that if you ever picked up your phone. Or checked your email. Or talked to anyone, for that matter."

Cheren bristles at that. "I talk to plenty of people." And he does check his email. Sometimes. He just doesn't usually answer.

"Oh yeah?" Alder raises an eyebrow. "I guess just not your friends and family then."

"Just drop it. It's none of your business."

"Maybe not, but I'm still concerned. At least I can keep an eye on you now that I know you're here. And alive."

"If you must," he mutters. The waitress looks in their direction and he stares at her desperately, willing her to come drop the check off so he can go home. He likes Alder, he does, and he sort of appreciates the concern, but he's too tired for this right now. She disappears into the back, and he sighs, looking down at the table and tapping his foot impatiently.

"So where are you staying, anyway?" Alder asks curiously.

Cheren relaxes a bit at the subject change and picks up his fork again, poking at a cucumber. He's not even hungry anymore. "Castelia Inn. It's just down the road."

"Oh, that's a nice place. How long?"

He shrugs. "Since the end of October."

Alder raises his eyebrows. "You've been there since you left the gym? That has to be expensive."

It is, actually. Even though it's one of the cheapest hotels in the city, he knows he's going to go through his savings quick if he doesn't come up with a better plan soon. Alder doesn't need to know that though. "It's not too bad."

Alder doesn't look like he believes him, but he doesn't get the chance to say anything because their waitress is back to drop off their checks. Cheren's out of his chair seconds later, wallet in hand, to go pay.

Alder shakes his head. "Give me that," he says, getting up and grabbing the bill out of Cheren's hand. He puts it on top of his own and digs out his credit card.

"I don't need you to pay for me," Cheren protests.

"I'm sure you don't, but I'm still going to."

He huffs and crosses his arms as Alder goes up the counter but doesn't say anything more about it. He can feel Alder staring at him as the cashier runs his card and pointedly ignores him.

Alder signs the receipt, says goodbye to the waitress, and then drapes an arm around Cheren's shoulders as he walks him out. He stops when they get outside and lifts his hand to ruffle Cheren's hair.

Cheren stares up at him in mild annoyance and pulls away. "What?"

"Nothing," Alder replies, letting his hand fall and smiling a bit.

"… Well then, it was nice seeing you," Cheren says. He doesn't have any intention of loitering around any longer than necessary. "Goodnight."

Alder loosely grabs his arm as he attempts to walk away. "Wait a sec, Cheren."

Cheren sighs and turns back around, looking up at Alder expectantly. "Yeah?"

"Meet me back here tomorrow. 7-ish?"

He hesitates for a moment. "… Alright," he finally says. He's not thrilled with the idea, but at the very least it'll save him the awkwardness of eating alone. He's not sure Alder would take no for an answer, anyway.

Alder looks satisfied at that. He releases the grip on his arm. "Good. See you tomorrow, then."

"Yeah. Night, Alder."

"… And call your parents!" he yells after him.

He rolls his eyes, but glances over his shoulder in acknowledgement. He'll think about it.

The hotel lobby is nearly empty when he gets back. He kicks off his shoes and throws himself onto the bed as soon as he gets to his room. He rolls over and glances at the clock. It's only 9. He grabs his laptop off the nightstand and logs into his email, only bothering to open the most recent ones.

FROM: Bianca
SUBJECT: HI!

CHEREN! You haven't answered any of my messages but hopefully you're doing well!

We miss you…

FROM: Black
SUBJECT: ?

Bianca called me today. What happened?

He sighs and shuts down the computer without replying. He doesn't know what to say anyway. He loves his friends, but…

They wouldn't understand.

He hangs up his jacket, changes into a t-shirt, and crawls into bed. It takes him a long time to fall asleep.

Cheren wakes up early, mostly thanks to his neighbors slamming their door shut as they leave. He groans, debating going downstairs to get breakfast from the daily buffet. It's too much trouble. He rolls back over and goes back to sleep, deciding to just order up to the room later.

It's afternoon by the time he's up, eaten, and showered. He feels kind of lazy, but supposes that it's fine to do once in a while.

He turns his laptop back on and searches for bookstores in the area. There's somehow only one, and it's not that close. It doesn't look that hard to get to though, so he attempts to memorize the directions and heads out once he's dressed.

It's a fifteen minute walk or so from his hotel, but he makes it there okay, and it was worth it because the store is huge. It's a struggle to find what he's looking for. The line is also insanely long. They only have one cashier working, but he really doesn't want to come back, so he grudgingly gets in it anyway.

By the time he leaves, it's dark, and he can't even remember which way he came from. He heads down the street, thinking it looks sort of familiar… maybe, but he ends up in a plaza instead. He knows he's been here before, but it was long ago, and he's pretty sure it's nowhere near his hotel. This is what he gets for not bringing his map.

"This is not right," he mutters to himself. He's about to try to search for his location on his phone when it starts ringing in his hand. He glances at the screen to see who's calling. Alder. He sighs and answers.

"Hey!" Alder greets. "Just reminding you about dinner, so you can't pretend to forget."

"Uh, yeah, about that," Cheren says. "I don't know if I can make it?"

Alder snorts. He doesn't sound very surprised. "And why is that?"

"I don't really know where I am," he admits, slightly embarrassed by his own incompetence.

"What are you near?"

"Uh…" Cheren glances around. "There's a fountain?"

"Alright, I got it. Stay there. I'll come get you," he says, hanging up before Cheren can even begin to argue.

He sits on the edge of the fountain and waits. It's cold enough to see his breath, and he really wishes he had dressed warmer. He didn't expect to be out in the dark. He wraps his arms around himself as he spots Alder coming towards him.

"Hey," Cheren says, standing up and shivering. "That was fast."

"I was in the area, luckily. You should've told me you don't know your way around yet." Alder takes off his jacket and throws it over Cheren's head. "Come on, let's get you out of here before you freeze to death."

Cheren pulls it off his head and puts it on. It's about three times his size and seriously ugly. "I look ridiculous," he grumbles, looking down at himself. "And you have no fashion sense."

Alder grins at him. "I'm sorry, what was that? My jacket is so cool? Thanks for rescuing you?"

"That is definitely not what I said... but thanks, I guess."

Alder shakes his head, putting his hand on Cheren's back and steering him towards the street. "Let's just go back to my place for now. It's closer."

"Okay," he agrees. He doesn't really care at this point as long as it's warm.

He wasn't lying when he said his apartment was close, something Cheren is grateful for when Alder unlocks the door, and he can feel the heater going. He glances around as he walks in, noticing there's still boxes stacked up in the corner of what appears to be the living room.

"How long have you been here?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Hmm..." Alder thinks out loud, closing the door behind them. "I moved in a couple months ago? But I've been in and out of the city, so I haven't gotten everything put away yet as you can see."

Cheren has a lot more questions, like what Alder is even doing suddenly moving to Castelia, but he decides not to ask. It has nothing to do with him anyway.

"Sit down," Alder says, gesturing towards the couch. "I'll get you something to drink. You like tea, right?"

He nods and sits, kind of surprised. Somehow he didn't expect Alder's home to look so… normal. It's nice, though sort of bare. Also his couch is really comfortable. The kitchen is open, with the exception of a bar separating it from the living room, so he can see Alder moving around. It's an odd sight. He realizes he's still wearing Alder's jacket and pulls it off, laying it over the back of the couch.

After a few minutes, Alder brings out the tea and sets it on the coffee table. "You know, I could just make dinner here if you don't feel like going anywhere?"

"That's fine, if it isn't too much trouble," Cheren says. "… Wait. Are you telling me you can cook things?"

"Of course I can," he exclaims, looking mildly offended. "A hell of a lot better than you, I'm sure."

Cheren is seriously skeptical, but intrigued. "By all means, then." He picks up his tea and leans back on the couch, blowing on it before taking a sip.

Alder just shakes his head at him. "You're something else. Is spaghetti good?"

"I am not. But yeah, as long as you don't give me food poisoning."

He rolls his eyes. "I should, for that." He heads back into the kitchen and starts digging through a cabinet.

Cheren decides he cannot miss a second of this and gets up, relocating to the bar. He hops up on the stool with his tea and stares, oddly fascinated. Alder looks beyond out of place in his modern looking kitchen.

"You don't have to watch," Alder comments, turning around and giving him a look.

"I really do," he insists.

He hates to admit it, but Alder actually does seem to know what he's doing. The sauce doesn't even come out of a can. Cheren's impressed. He's also starving by the time it's done. It occurs to him that this will be the first home cooked meal he's had in… he doesn't even know how long. Even when he was still in Aspertia, he rarely bothered cooking for himself. Eating out is so much easier.

"Could you get some plates?" Alder calls from the stove, turning it off and removing the pot. "They're in the cabinet over the sink."

"Yep," Cheren replies. He slides off the stool and grabs two, bringing them over. He sets them on the counter and watches as Alder fills both plates with way more than he can possibly eat.

"I usually just eat in here," Alder says, carrying his own plate out to the living room.

"Classy." Cheren sits back down on the couch as Alder takes the armchair across from him. He blows on a forkful of spaghetti and cautiously takes a bite. "… This is actually really good," he admits.

"Could you not sound so surprised?"

He shrugs.

They eat in silence. Alder finishes first, putting his plate down on the coffee table. "So, continuing our conversation from yesterday… do you have an explanation for me yet?"

"No."

He narrows his eyes, leaning his elbows on the armrests.

Cheren glances up and sighs when he sees how serious Alder looks. He puts his plate down on the table next to Alder's and crosses his arms, averting his eyes. "Fine. What do you want to know?" There's little chance of getting out of the conversation now. He's pretty much trapped here.

"Why did you run off without telling anyone?"

"I don't know."

"I don't believe that," Alder presses. "You scared the shit out of everyone. To be honest, I was planning to go look for you myself if you didn't contact someone soon."

"I'm not a child," Cheren complains, starting to get annoyed. "I know I should've told someone. But you don't need to know where I am at all times. I don't need babysitting."

Alder sighs. "I know you're not," he says. "But I still worry about you, you know? I didn't know what the hell to think when I started getting calls from people wondering where you were. I've known you for, what, nearly 5 years now? Am I not allowed to be concerned when you disappear?"

Cheren stares down at the floor, suddenly feeling guilty. "… I don't know why I left the gym," he finally says. "I don't even have a real reason?" He pauses for a minute to try to put his thoughts together. "I was… overwhelmed. I should've been thankful for the job, but there was so much pressure. It's stupid. I just panicked, I guess."

"It's not stupid," he replies, shaking his head. "If you weren't happy there, you weren't happy there. What I don't understand is why you didn't tell anyone."

"I don't know. I thought people would be disappointed… maybe."

"Nobody would be disappointed in you, Cheren. You gave it a good two years. You're allowed to do other things."

"I guess," he says, not feeling convinced. "You and Professor Juniper went through the trouble of getting me the job though."

"We didn't get you the job, we only suggested you for the position. You got it because you earned it. Seriously, is that what you've thought this whole time?"

Cheren shrugs.

Alder rubs his face, looking frustrated. "You were more than qualified. You're a good trainer and damn smart, too. You could've gotten it with or without our recommendation... I don't know why you don't have more confidence in yourself." He sighs. "Honestly, I was really hoping being at the gym would help you with that, but it appears it did the opposite."

Cheren sits in silence, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. He knows he has no self-esteem, but it embarrasses him to have it pointed out.

"Look at me, Cheren."

He glances up from under his bangs. Alder is staring at him intently, and it makes him want to bolt out of the room.

"You can do anything you want to do. Anything. Stop worrying about what you think you're obligated to do. All anybody wants is for you to be happy. Okay?"

"… Alright," he says, ducking his head.

Alder doesn't say anything else. After a while, Cheren gets up and grabs their plates, carrying them to the sink. Alder protests as he turns the water on.

"Don't worry about that," he insists, following Cheren into the kitchen. "I can get them later."

"It's fine. I owe you for yesterday anyway. I can do some dishes."

Alder snorts and leans against the counter, watching him. "You don't owe me anything."

Cheren ignores him, rinsing the plates off and loading them in the dishwasher before moving onto the pans. When he starts trying to scrub down the counter, Alder snatches the towel out of his hand.

"Nope, you're done," he says, tossing it aside. "Also, you've got sauce on your face," Alder informs him, leaning closer and easily rubbing it off with his thumb.

Cheren flushes and turns away, rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand. He's not used to people touching him so casually anymore. "I should get going," he says. He's been here long enough.

"Alright," Alder agrees. "I'll walk you back."

"That really isn't necessary."

Alder sighs, looking exasperated. "It really is. It's dark, and you'll get lost. You don't even know where you are."

Well, that's probably true. "… Fine."

Alder grabs the coat from the sofa on the way out and hands it to him wordlessly. Cheren glares at it but pulls it on without putting up a fight.

He shoves his hands in the pockets once they get outside. Somehow it's gotten even colder. It's late enough that the streets have quieted down and stores are flipping their closed signs and locking up as Alder guides Cheren down the sidewalk.

"You said you're staying at Castelia Inn, right?" Alder asks.

"Yeah."

He tries to memorize the way back for future reference. He wouldn't be surprised if he ended up here again, at least if Alder has anything to do with it. Luckily it doesn't seem too complicated. There are only a couple of turns. As long as he can actually remember where they are…

Alder insists on seeing him all the way up to his room even once he's safely inside the hotel. They reach his door and Cheren fishes his room key out of his pants pocket.

"Hey, um," he starts, turning to face Alder. "Thanks for today."

Alder smiles fondly at him. "I meant what I said, you know. I want you to think about what you want to do."

"I will."

"Good," he says. "Oh, I'll contact the Pokemon Association for you. Only because they can be… somewhat difficult. You're responsible for everyone else, though."

Cheren can't help but feel relieved. He really should do it himself, but that doesn't mean he wants to. "Thanks." He takes off Alder's jacket and gives it back to him.

Alder tucks it under his arm. "You're welcome," he replies. "I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Alright."

Cheren unlocks the door and watches as Alder gets in the elevator and gives him a final wave. He nods to him as the doors slide shut and goes in his room.

He sits on his bed, scrolling through his contacts on the phone, and hits call.

"Hi, Bianca."

Notes: I've been working on this for 100 years. It's done, aside from some editing, so I'll try to get on a weekly schedule. There are 21 chapters total. I also made a playlist if you feel so inclined. I'll link to it in my profile.

This takes place post BW2, but there may be some discrepancies since I haven't played through it in a long time.