more manageable chapters wheeeee~
Arc I, The Heart of Cresselia
Chapter Three:
The Boy in the Apartment
"I'm walking home today," said Luka into his cellphone. "You can take Cassia home, but make sure that she knows that's the last favor I'm ever doing for her. If you see my mother, tell her that she should be expecting me around seven."
And then, beneath his breath, he added, "Not like anyone will see her for the rest of the night."
He shut the phone and began to descend the front steps to the school, his hands in his pockets and his eyes set on somewhere far off in the distance. He could see his house, built with red bricks and white columns, from those stairs. The large home stood out between the leaves in the treetops, and because it was sitting on an enormous hill that seemed to stretch out towards the sky, it looked like a castle from where he was standing.
He still felt disgusting after his brief encounter with Bella. The shoes weren't of any importance, but he could still smell her perfume on his neck. He wanted to go home, shower, and hide under his covers for the rest of the night.
Luka sighed heavily, and then he began to fiddle with a coin in his pocket as he went down the sidewalk.
I'll probably be eating dinner alone tonight, he thought.
A classmate, a girl from his third hour, crossed his path. Her face brightened when she saw him.
"Hey — Luka!" she exclaimed, running towards him with an armful of flyers. "Do you think you'd be interested in the Mathletes Club? You know, since you're so good at math and you used to tutor calculus and all. Our attendance is running short this year, and maybe if you were to show up, we'd—"
He pushed her aside, not physically but with the strength of his irritated stare. "Don't even bother," he said curtly, looking away so that nobody would see them making eye contact. "I'm busy anyway. My — my mother wants me to organize some files for her."
"Oh, I understand, with her business and all," said the girl, her face falling. He couldn't remember her name, but he did know that she was the only one who seemed naïve to his curt attitude. Obliviously, she continued, "Well, if you ever find the time, we'll be waiting for you. We could win nationally with your smarts."
I remember the day that my mother left my father. She didn't think that he had enough potential. She had the money and the business charisma, and he was only a writer. He wasn't good enough for her. When he walked away from the girl, purposely ignoring her disappointment, he bit his lip. And now I'm not good enough for her either. If I joined the Mathletes, she'd only wonder if I'm trying to ruin her reputation.
As he walked, Luka felt that his mind was distanced from him. He could hardly focus on where he was walking, let alone who was standing in his way or what obstacles he might have faced. Between the warm pavement and the afternoon sun, the heat of Saffron City was both overwhelming and blinding. He was almost staggering along, searching for somewhere to be.
Before he realized it, he was standing before an apartment complex. The building was untouched by the daylight warmth, because no matter where the sun was, there were enough trees around it to keep it away from the light. Nothing was broken, but everything was close to falling apart, and compared to Luka's home just up the hill, the complex looked like an abandoned shack.
Luka craned his head back and stared into one of the gray windows, as if he could see the room behind it. Then he leaned down, picked up a smooth pebble, and tossed it at the pane. The window tittered for a second, shaking from the impact, and then it opened. What was revealed was a small face, surrounded by brown hair, dappling freckles and colorful blue eyes.
All you care about is your stupid neighbor and your stupid wealth!
"Let me in," said Luka, unaware of the affection in his voice for only a moment. "There's no way that I'm climbing in through your window."
The boy at the window grinned and momentarily disappeared. Luka waited patiently, listening to the sound of the wind in the trees and the silence that followed afterwards. There was a loud buzzing at the front door to the apartment complex, and then he strode forward and walked inside.
Like the outside of the complex, the interior of the building was empty and filled with only echoes. As he ascended the stairs to the boy's room, he kept one hand on the concrete wall and the other on the brass railing. For a moment, there was nothing to hear but the noise of his footsteps, but then there was the sound of knocking at the boy's door, and finally the sweet click of the locks turning.
"Luka! I thought you weren't going to come today!"
"Of course I was, Shinx," said Luka, ruffling the boy's hair as he entered the room. He had called Nolan that name for years, because of the lick of hair on his head that always stood up, no matter how many attempts his mother made to smooth it over. "I'm sorry that I was late. I told my chauffeur to leave me at the school, so I just walked here." He glanced around the seemingly empty apartment and asked, "Are your parents here today?"
Nolan shook his head, replying, "No, my dad had something come up at work, and my mom just went to the grocery store. She'll be back though." He gasped, as if a revolutionary idea had stricken him, and he started doing a dance in place. "Maybe you can help us make those chocolate-chip cookies!"
"I'll think about it." Luka collapsed on one of the couches, allowing himself to smile as the child catapulted from his spot and onto the seat next to him. "Thing is, if my mother comes home tonight, I'll have to be there. If she does, I wish it could have been any other night. You know that I don't get to see her as often as you get to see your mom."
"Yeah, I know," said Nolan. "My mom doesn't have a job like yours does, though."
Luka smiled again, this time wider than the last. "That's right," he said. "My mom is out making us money so that we can eat and have nice things. Your mom is here, taking care of you so you can be healthy again. That's why I come by as often as I can – that way she can have some days to go out too. I bet, though, whenever you get your own Pokémon, you'll be all better again."
Nolan's parents had been insisting that the child wasn't old enough for his own Pokémon yet. They believed that every boy's first best friend shouldn't happen until the ten-years-old checkpoint. Nolan was several months short, and that was all he had been talking about for the last couple of weeks.
"They'll probably get me some sissy, girly Pokemon," said Nolan, pouting. "Like some stupid Magikarp or Vulpix. I want something big and strong and mighty, like on Pokémon League TV!"
"Don't you know? Magikarp evolves into the mighty Gyarados, whose roar can shake the world!" exclaimed Luka, waving his hands around dramatically. There was already an excited grin on the child's face. "And Vulpix? Well, she evolves into the beautiful Ninetales, whose powers over fire can burn any foe!"
Nolan jumped up and down on the couch, nearly bashing in the ceiling with his head. Suddenly, he began to violently cough and wheeze. Luka startled forward to help the child, but Nolan only pushed him away with his frail arms. When he looked up again, he was ashen.
"L—Luka," he managed to say through his coughing, "if you know so much about Pokémon, how come you don't have any of your own? Everyone I know that's as old as you has one."
I remember that my father, in that small apartment that we lived in, had a Golduck. Most of the time, we just let him roam around outside, since we lived by the forest and some ponds. I think that he loved Pokemon more than anything – not as much as me and my mother, but he was obsessed enough. He would tell me everything about them, from legends to true stories to facts. Those tales were the best things I've ever heard.
"I've never really thought about it," lied Luka, looking for something to do with his nervous hands. He sighed, wishing that he could have given his little friend a straightforward answer, and then he said, "Nolan, would you like a story that I heard when I was your age? It's about a king and a monster."
Nolan, who was as skeptical as ever, said, "Is it a true story?"
"I don't think so, but it's definitely the best fairytale that I've ever heard of," said Luka. Once the boy gave him an approving look, he began, "Once upon a time, in the Pokemon world, there was a mighty ruler. He served his people faithfully, making sure that they were the happiest that they could be. He was strong, loving, handsome, and brave, and everyone loved him."
Nolan gave another cough. He leaned against the arm of the couch and listened attentively.
"He was strong, in fact, that there were many bad guys that were looking to take his power, but he fought and won against all of them. However, even though his rule was going perfectly, he began to wonder if everyone truly loved him like they said they did. He got scared of his own people. And then one day, there appeared a villain who was more evil than any of the others."
"Uh-oh," whispered Nolan, widening his eyes. He tugged at Luka's arm, asking, "So what happened? What happened?"
"This villain, who was so bad and so evil that even the other bad guys were afraid of him, made the king sick and tried to take over his body." Luka still loved listening to the story, even though he was already seventeen and was the one who was telling it. "The king got so sick that he couldn't even rule his people anymore, and they started to lose trust in him."
Nolan clambered all over the place, and because he was Nolan, Luka allowed it. "That's awful," he declared, sitting halfway on Luka's shoulders and halfway on the back of the couch. He did a tumble down to the seat, his blue eyes big with sympathy. "I don't know why any villain would want to hurt a king like that."
"I don't either."
"I don't think I want to know the end of the story," said the child. Abruptly, he yawned, and then he began to sleepily rub his eyes. "I think that I'll just dream about it when I sleep, and I'll tell you what happened in the end."
That was a tradition they had shared since the day Luka started telling Nolan stories.
Luka watched as Nolan began to grow increasingly exhausted, and then he gently picked up the child so that he could carry him to the bedroom. He laid Nolan down on his bed, which was surrounded by at least a dozen or so Pokemon plushies and action figures.
Then he softly said, "I hope that you dream about the happy end, kiddo."
When Nolan only gave a murmured response, Luka left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Just as he was picking up his school bag, the front door opened and in walked Nolan's mother, whose shadowed eyes and pale hair made her look older than she really was.
"Oh, Luka, hello there," she said, shutting the door with her shoulder as she slipped her heels off. She gratefully handed him one of the grocery bags she was holding, and he wordlessly took it to the kitchen counter. Noticing the closed bedroom door, she asked, "Has Nolan already fallen asleep? I brought him a refill from the pharmacy. I was hoping to catch him before he knocked out."
"He was all jumpy one minute and then asleep the next."
"It's so hard to keep him awake nowadays," his mother said. "He must sleep about sixteen hours of the day, if not more. I have a difficult time getting him to wake up so that he can eat." She regarded Luka strangely, and then she added, "Funny that he always wakes up just so that he can see you. Maybe I should hire you to stay here all day long."
Luka paused, his hand hovering just over the front doorknob. "I would if I could."
"Yes, I know," she sighed, giving him another odd look. Just before he opened the door to leave, she stopped him and said, "Luka, thank you. I know that you are so busy with your schoolwork and everything, but it really means a lot to him that you stop by every day. I wish that I could there for him like you are."
Luka kept his eyes averted, suddenly feeling very cold and lost again. "I used to know someone like him," he said quietly. "I just don't want him to end up the same way that person did."
With those words, he left the apartment complex.
She's here again.
The yellow-eyed girl was standing in the street below, between two parked cars and some rose bushes. As he stood there, on the second-story balcony, only having the wind to listen to again, he trembled and clutched at the railing. His head said that she was only someone who was out to get a hold of his mother – a news reporter, perhaps.
His heart said she was more important.
Once he reached the street level, she had already vanished.
She's part of the paparazzi, I bet, thought Luka. He stood in the middle of the street, exactly where she'd been, turning in all directions and trying to find out which direction she'd gone.
The only that she had left was the faint aroma of flowers and sweet perfume.
End of Chapter Three
