AN: This is my first time to submit a fanfic just so you know, and I don't really know how to write one to be honest : The characters and ideas are original, except for the Pokemon obviously. The M rated stuff arrive at a way later time. Any kind of beneficial/constructive review(s) is/are welcome.


Time had finally lost its meaning. That's what 13 year old Leron Bluejay thought as he was reenacting the story of the Legend Festival on stage. What felt like an hour was actually just half an hour. It doesn't seem too unbelievable unless you're actually experiencing it. But Leron was more than experiencing it. He was suffering it. Every distorted second was a chance to trip on the props, a moment to unconsciously say something humiliating, or perhaps to not move or say anything at all. That would be the death of his dream career.

It shouldn't have been too hard. He's been participating in the annual play for the tourists ever since he was a sapling. He wasn't the main man before but being a sideline fire dancer was as hard as being the main character so why the sudden difficulty? Besides, he's been practicing everyday for eight hours straight (Thanks to boredom and a severe lack of friends)!

Was it because of the old couple who watched him with such tender smiles that it pressured him to perfect his routine? Or maybe it was his mischievous classmates whose bullying no longer bothers him? No, couldn't be. Is it that drunken man humorously being the rope between soberness and the drunkenness playing tug-of-war? Impossible. Due to a traumatizing event that happened when his bully friends convinced him that raw gin was actually Gardevoir tears which had healing properties, he vowed never to laugh at someone who drank too much.

Maybe it was that girl eyeing him with a little too much interest?

Yes, it's got to be her. She's been staring at his eyes ever since he got on that stage. He had a feeling of not wanting to fail, but at the same time lost his passion to succeed. He didn't believe in love at first sight (or love at all). But he did believe in the type of nervousness that could kill you on the spot.

When the short hand passed two numbers, the play had finally ended with little or no damage. Leron received a standing ovation even if he dropped his bamboo sword in the interpretative battle dance between him and the three bewildered legendary birds. Then again, maybe the audience clapped clamorously because of that. Anyway, what's done is done! Leron trudged towards the changing room, accompanied with the ever so innocent and almost human Pokemon cheering and congratulating each other for the victorious play. He wiped the sweat that accumulated in the course of the play. Never before did he perspire that much. It wasn't because of the torches located in every part of the stage that could support it. It was that girl again. Yes, blame everything on the girl.

"Good job my little sapling"

An old, wrinkled, calloused, yet unbelievably heartwarming hand perched without disgust on his bare right shoulder.

"Gramps"

Leron said with much disappointment. The old man just smiled. His smile reminded Leron of his Grandfather's early days, because that smile of his never changed. He'd smile so wide that his eyes would close and the sides of his mouth would reach his ears, boasting off his snow white teeth. He slowly walked towards his grandpa and hugged him. He truly deserved that sapling name.

"I'm so sorry grandpa. I was so nervous"

His little voice and sheepish and childlike demeanor betrayed his 13 year old age. The old man loved him nonetheless.

"I can see why"

He rolled his eyes to the darkness beyond. Not enough for Leron to notice, but enough for the unnoticed one to notice. An uncontrolled gasp exited the mouth of the spy, and ran towards the exit.

"Hmm, I think I hear someone calling out your name. The tourists are eager to give you gifts sapling"

Leron exhumed his face from the old man's beer belly (which somehow didn't have that old person smell) and looked up with a smile that copied his.

"Really? Yes I think so too! Oh I'm so excited! I'll see you later okay gramps?"

The old man was lying, and Leron fell for it. But he's not at fault; the tourists always gave him gifts after the play. Because of his wisdom, age and experience, he too found out something new about the usual wave of gifts awaiting his grandson. In that crowd was one tourist, soon to be a friend perhaps, who will give him the best present ever. The eyes from the unnoticed one, said so. But having wisdom, age and experience has its downsides too. Because of usually infallible observation skills, it is difficult to deny that there might be dangers ahead. The old man knew too much.

"The unnoticed will be noticed, and what has not recognized itself will be recognized. The world is losing its solidity, and our everyday reality is starting to thin out, until there is nothing left but the truth. Take care of your feelings my sapling" He said in the softest and most inaudible volume ever.

"Huh? You say something grandpa?"

Leron's head jutted out from the side of the arch, making him look like a disembodied child. The old man swore he got a heart attack. He always knew Leron as the absent-minded and gullible clumsy fool who notices changes last. Perhaps it was the wisdom of the youth.

"Oh. I love you"

"Gramps!"

Leron stepped back to show his entire body protest at the sappiness by stomping on the ground. Immediately after stomping, Leron smiled warmly as a reply, and unconsciously ran to what the old man was whispering about.