He is seven when he hears the news.

He's always had his suspicions — they're neighbors, after all, and she can't very well conceal screaming and yelling and the sound of things breaking over the silence of a Pallet night. The occasional visit of Officer Jenny from Viridian doesn't help her case.

When she arrives at school the next day, five minutes after the bell, the teacher gives her a pitying glance and excuses her for tardiness. News spreads quickly in Pallet, and almost faster to Viridian. There are few who don't know of her parents' impending divorce, and yet she's the only one who is apparently unfazed.

"Sorry for taking off without you," she whispers as she slides into her seat next to his, tucking her backpack under her desk. "I wanted to see Dad. He's ten minutes up the road from here, so I had to leave early."

They've always walked together. The break in habit sends an uncomfortable signal off in his head. He knows that divorce separates families, and causes changes — but the break in their own traditions, without a thing being up to them… it bothers him.

"You could have seen him after school." He tries not to be angry, but he can't help the touch of heat that breaches his tone. She can hear it, and her face twists as though she isn't quite sure how to respond.

"There's supposed to be rain. Mom said to head straight home."

Leaf's always been an obedient child, independent or not. (That she's always managed to best him is another matter, but the juxtaposition of her with him and her with her mother has never seemed entirely normal.) "So what, your mom's word is it now?"

She shifts uncomfortably in her seat. "She's got… sole custody, or something. I don't think I'm gonna get to see my dad much anymore." She glances out the window at the bleak weather, taking account of the clouds smearing gray across the pale, ashy skyline. "Especially in winter."

Green finds it in him to regret his hostility. "Can you call?"

Her cheeks and ears pink ashamedly. "The power's out."

For a moment, he wonders why she would be the one embarrassed. It isn't her job to pay bills and do the adult things his grandfather gripes about. "Gramps would let you use ours, y'know. The phone."

Leaf nods in recognition. "Yeah. I don't think I will, though."

"Why not?"

A pause. "You wouldn't understand," she says after a moment.

He stills, pushing his pencil back and forth between his hands to avoid looking at her. "He's your dad and you can call him, but you won't? Your parents are splitting up and you aren't even upset? You don't even get it."

The flush of her face returns with a vengeance, and she stands abruptly, chair toppling backward on the carpet as she shoves away from her desk. Her eyes narrow, brows drawn, and with fists clenched, she turns to face him.

"You know what?" Her voice shakes, whether with sadness or anger he isn't sure. "You know what — leave me alone, Green. I do understand. You… you're the one who doesn't. Won't." She almost leaves off there, but takes back up again in higher pitch, fists tight at her sides. "And — and your parents love you. They live far away, but they love you. And that's…"

She drops off entirely at that, choking on her own voice as Green stares at her, shocked.

Another moment passes, the class still humming amongst themselves with typical second grade chatter, and Leaf turns to right her chair and collapse back into it, resting her head on her desk as her arms shield her face. Green deliberates, lying against his own desk and watching her shoulders gradually grow still. When she lifts herself back up, swiping at her cheeks with her sleeves until her face is sufficiently dry, he nudges her arm with his, waiting till her eyes are on him.

"Wanna walk home together?" he asks, and when her eyes light in response, he knows their storm is past.

(After school, as they walk among the chilled air, hands tucked into their coat pockets and huddling close for warmth among the breeze, he gets the feeling that the incoming rain says something for the future.

Watching her skip and duck between branches and tall grass, he hopes for the best that he's wrong.)


a/n fun fact: he won't be wrong (insert laugh track here)