Author's Note: The Japanese name for Eevee is Iibui, and it is mentioned in passing this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon or its characters. The story is a work of fiction and in no way shall money be made from this endeavor. Unauthorized reproduction or copying of this fiction is not allowed (aka do not copy/post/save to your hard drive or elsewhere).

Melody of a Memory
By Leika Lai

Chapter Six

When I finally awake, the storm has passed, and the air outside is unnervingly calm and bright. I get out from beneath the covers and walk over to the window, observing my cramped backyard. There are pools of water in the low spots of the lawn, and a dozen or so small plants have been ripped from the ground by the wind. I suppose I'll clean up the mess later, although it's likely that another storm will blow by before too long.

That afternoon I take a walk around the neighborhood, needing an escape from the unbearable silence at home. I want to see the damage the storm has done to the city firsthand. The grass is slick and dark with fallen rain, and there are many thick tree branches lying along the roads where they were pushed aside so people could drive. Urban workers are lined up along the street, working to fix knocked down telephone and power lines. Heaps of litter and loose paper are pressed up tight against the fences in yards, and the overall appearance of Tokusane City is one of unkempt griminess. By time I have walked a couple blocks, the morning's heavy chill has set deep into my skin, making me shiver.

I follow the curb's corner, completing a walk around the block before returning home. I feel like my mind is subconsciously working on a problem I don't know, and that I am unable to think or focus my thoughts as a result of it. The trip passes by in a blur, and I start to wish that I had stayed home after all. There are so many people bustling about, and the city is so noisy. I find myself missing the comfortable silence Shigeru and I had in the last few days of his stay.

I wonder if he and Julia are any closer to reconciling their differences yet, if they are going to work out their problems and avoid this whole mess. Shigeru said she was acting less angry, but he didn't seem all that convinced that he should return to her.

Why hadn't I told him to stay? Why hadn't I paid closer attention to his hesitation about returning home to that witch? I had been too busy thinking about what would be best for me and not for Shigeru. I feel guilty about my selfishness and I want to compensate for abandoning him so readily. I should have just suffered through it and let Shigeru stay.

I halt suddenly and break from my thoughts, realizing that I had just walked by my own house. Shaking my head at my inattentiveness, I double back to my walkway, grabbing the daily mail as I start back inside.

Two more days pass the same as the last, empty and incomplete.

I can't sleep, so I lie on the couch watching the television until the small hours of the morning. Nothing interesting is on, but I watch in the hopes of finally nodding off from boredom. When another fatiguing morning comes by, I make a cup of coffee and read the newspaper. I wander listlessly around the house until noon, when I make a small meal and reread the paper.

In the afternoon I walk around the city like Shigeru and I had done before, more for something to do outside of the house than as a method of exercise. I return in time for dinner, and afterwards I head up to my room, hopeful that I could possibly – finally – fall asleep once more. I even stayed up all night once and completely cleaned out the spare bedroom on the second floor, unpacking all the belongings and discarding the empty boxes. I had hoped this would tire me out enough to make me sleep, but it was to no avail. At least I was somewhat making use of my time….

On a walk downtown, an abrupt downfall of rain catches me by surprise: another ill-fated storm of the season. I had been wearing a light jacket at the time, and I was drenched to the bone by time I finally found shelter from the spattering water. With dark humor, I realize this was the second time in a week I had returned home frozen and coughing from the rain. The second soaking seemed to compound my already pounding head with a bad cough and a thick feeling in my chest. I debated going to a doctor about it or not, but I decided I couldn't be bothered to make another full-fledged trip downtown.

Today, in the afternoon, I receive a phone call from one of the local Tokusane corporations, asking if I would consider attending a promotional gig for their company. I thank them but hastily decline their offer, hanging up as quickly as possible; I detest when I'm asked to be present at events simply because I am the reigning Master. Petty businesses want to parade me around and have me attract prospective customers to them like moths to a flame, and it irritates me to no end when they shamelessly attempt to do this.

Not long after the phone call I hear a knock on my door, and irrationally I think it must be Shigeru. I swing the door open wide in hopes, crestfallen when it isn't him standing there. A couple of young trainers – a boy and a girl - are present instead, smiling widely and excitedly at me. They said they saw me around the neighborhood and had recognized me as the Master from all the trainer magazines. The young boy held out a pad of paper with a pen for me, eagerly gesturing for an autograph. I don't like to disappoint kids, so I scribble my name and theirs down on each of their papers, waving to the trainers as they leave.

By time seven o'clock rolls around I've finished cleaning up a supper consisting of lukewarm TV dinners. I toss the empty plastic plate into the trash and wash my hands in the sink. The meal was unappetizing and unfulfilling, but I'm not in the mood for something extravagant. I cough thickly into my fist, my chest starting to throb, and I stare out the back window, considering whether or not I should watch some TV before retiring upstairs.

I hear a distant crack of thunder roll in, and the beginnings of a rain spattering against the glass panes of my patio door. I groan and roll my eyes; please, please not another storm. I knew Tokusane City had regular stormy weather, results of the clashing systems and proximity to the open sea, but I never thought it would be like this…. It felt like all we receive are chains of melancholy conditions; everything is always wet and clingy, and you couldn't go outside and enjoy the fresh air without being drenched, trapping everyone indoors and away from each other.

I slouch down at the dinner table and place my hands to my face, my muscles quivering and my breath unstable. I feel so close to crying; I've never been so utterly alone before in my life. I always had someone, even if it was only Pikachuu, for company beside me, and the past five weeks has been a devastating eye-opener to me. I don't think I can make it on my own; I need somebody, anybody, around me to cut the chill of solitude, letting me know I have someone there to talk to if I need to.

I consider calling Kasumi or Haruka, but dismiss the ideas quickly. The time zone in Kanto is hours ahead; it was probably close to midnight in Hanada City, and Kasumi would not be please if I awoke her. Haruka is busy working hard on advising the construction of the Contest centre, and I wouldn't feel right interrupting her to merely complain about feeling lonely. I chew on my thumb knuckle as I consider my other options.

It strikes me, the knowledge of who I can call. I'm doubtful of doing so, but I bring out my phone book, flipping it open to the O section. Omake…Onosaji…Ookido. I trace my finger along to Shigeru's home number. I momentarily hesitate, my fingers now hovering above the punch pad of my video phone. Should I really be calling Shigeru? What would I even say? This wasn't going to help me forget about him, I tell myself…. But I miss him; it wouldn't hurt to just talk to him…. I start punching the numbers into the machine before I chicken out.

I almost lose my nerve and hang up as I hear the first ring come and see the 'CONNECTING…' message pop up across the video screen, but I force myself to stay on the line. Another coughing bout hits me, this time doubling me over, the back of my throat burning in pain. My heart is pounding in my ears, and my hand feels slick against the smooth plastic of the receiver; I can't tell if this is from my illness or from my nervousness to speak to Shigeru. After what seems like forever, a face appears on the screen as my call is answered. I let out a breath I'm unaware I was holding, and I am surprised by who I'm looking at.

I had been expecting Shigeru to answer, or perhaps even his wife Julia. However, I find a little girl, her watchful brown eyes an exact replica of Shigeru's. Her hair is thick and wavy, black as pen ink, ending at approximately her mid-back. It was pulled up into two ponytails on either side of the back of her head, and her bangs were cut to pleasingly frame her oval face.

"Hi," she says shyly, an adorable bashful smile creeping up onto her face. My heart melts at her sweetness, and already I feel better than before.

"Hello," I reply, smiling brightly myself. "Are you Mahoka?" I'm guessing whether it is Mahoka or Midori; I have a fifty-fifty chance of being right.

"Nnhm; Madelaine." Her voice is soft and light, and she shyly giggles as she replies. She looks off-screen and shouts, "Marguarite! Telephone!"

I try telling her no, that I was looking for her father instead, but it is too late. Soon two similar faces are pressed up to the video screen, both looking at me as if I am an interesting animal at the zoo; the girls climb onto the counter in order to get a closer look at me. I notice that Mahoka's hair is a similar color to her father's, albeit containing more of a reddish tint than Shigeru's. She has it swept up into ponytails similar to her sister, and I can see that her eyes are actually blue in color, not the chocolate shade of her father's. They must be fraternal twins, not exactly identical.

"Who are you?" Mahoka asks innocently, draping herself sleepily onto her sister's shoulders. Midori's face screws up in annoyance, but she doesn't push her away. I realize that I must have woken them up, and I feel a twinge of guilt for doing so.

"My name is Satoshi. I'm sorry if I woke you, but I was wondering if your dad–"

"Dad's out of the house right now," Midori interrupts, seemingly aware of the end of my sentence.

"Mom's home though," Mahoka adds. She leans closer to the screen, cupping her small hands around her delicate mouth. She whispers to me, "She and Dad were fighting again."

"Marguarite, Don't tell him that," Midori hisses, elbowing her sister lightly in the arm. She looks at me with mistrust, as if I would dare to be rude about her parents' situation.

"Are you a friend of Daddy's?" Mahoka continues innocently, ignoring her upset sister. Her eyes lid slightly, but I can see that she's overcoming her tiredness.

I nod in response. "I was just calling to see if he–"

"You're the Master, right? I saw your picture on TV a couple of days ago," Mahoka interrupts. She smiles widely at me, and I can see most of her tiny, pearly white teeth in that grin.

"Of course he is," Midori intrudes, rolling her eyes. I begin responding, but I am cut off once again.

"Do you have monsters with you right now? Can I see them?"

"Is Dad a good trainer? Did he have any rare monsters?"

"Are you going to come visit us sometime? I want to see the Master in person…."

My head is spinning with all the questions they are firing at me, eager for my replies. I begin to chuckle, watching the two girls fight playfully to be the closest to the screen, their faces split into identical grins from ear to ear. I gesture for them to calm down and talk more slowly. However, as I do so, both girls stop talking and look towards someone who just entered the room. It is off-screen so I can't tell who it is until they walk up behind the girls. I hear a voice ask who the girls are talking to.

And this is how I meet Julia, Shigeru's dreaded wife.

Julia sweeps the girls off the counter in front of the video screen, motioning for them to go back to bed. Both girls chime sweetly goodbye to me before leaving, pressing their tiny hands against the screen so I would know they are waving to me. Julia waits until they are out of the room before returning her attention to me.

Sitting down at the counter, she appears disinterested in speaking with me. "You are Satoshi, aren't you?" she asks abruptly, giving no greetings or introductions of her own. She watches me warily, and I wonder what, in our brief encounter, I have already done in order to receive such an icy stare. I nervously nod my head again, unable to speak. I feel a knot form in my stomach, and I try to will myself to be calm.

"Sorry if I woke your daughters, but I–"

"Where is my husband?" she interjects, wasting no time.

This takes me by surprise. "I don't know, Mrs. Ookido. I haven't seen him in over two days."

She raises her eyebrows, unconvinced. "I know he's been staying at your house for a while, Satoshi." Julia crosses her arms across her chest, watching me apprehensively. Her hair is long and straight, sweeping down to her mid back. Unlike her daughters, she had no bangs herself, and the style accents a harsh contrast between her pale skin and dark hair. Her voice is laced with annoyance. "If you have no information of his whereabouts then we have nothing further to discuss."

I feel indignant with her tone of voice. What the hell had I done to make her dislike me so much? "Excuse my frankness, Julia," I say, disdainfully spewing her name, "but what exactly did you do to make Shigeru leave without even a hint to where he was going?"

Her pale cheeks gain a touch of crimson, and she flinches back from her seat as if burned. She glares at me even more fiercely, a twinge of hurt visible in her grey-blue eyes. "I don't need your judgment or your snide remarks," she retorts. "You have no idea what I'm going through; if it wasn't for you, we wouldn't even bein this situation."

I begin to ask her to explain herself, but before I can she disconnects her end of the conversation, a vicious click being the last thing I heard from her. I'm left sitting in front of the blank video screen, wondering what exactly she was talking about. I decide that I don't really want to know – not yet – and I slowly put the phone book away.

I cough violently into my hands again and mull over what medications I have upstairs in the bathroom cabinet. As I head to bed, I think about Shigeru's disappearance from his home, and I vaguely wonder where he is. I push the thought quickly out of my mind; after all, I was trying to stop thinking about him, wasn't I? I should have known better than to try calling him; it was just going to drag Shigeru back in to my life….

I find that, even though I was upset about how Julia had spoken to me, I was actually grateful to have made the call. Mahoka and Midori's innocent and childish ways were a welcome change to what I generally see, and I was calmed by how comfortable they immediately felt talking with me. Normally, when someone realizes that I'm the current Master, they all of a sudden become falsely respectful and suck-up to me, but not Shigeru's daughters. They had spoken to me with the eagerness I remembered having as a child, enthusiastic to start out on my journey. They weren't intimidated by my position or title, and it was a nice variation to see.

Standing in the centre of my moonlit bedroom, I begin to pull off my day-clothes and swap them for pajamas, but almost immediately I reconsider. I feel restless and too alert to go to sleep yet; I make the decision to go for a late-night walk, ignoring another coughing spasm that hits me. The thunder I had heard earlier was no longer sounding in the sky; I suppose the storm wasn't as serious as I anticipated, and it had dissipated over the city during my telephone call. I trek downstairs again and put on my coat and shoes, locking the door as I leave.

I settle on heading to the nearby park for my walk. Not many people are around, which is good because I feel like being alone with my thoughts. I smile to a nearby couple walking a young Iibui, and they politely smile back as they pass. The ground is slick with fresh rainwater, confirming my belief that a light storm had come and gone without my knowledge.

The air is crisp and cool on my sore throat, and I'm grateful for having grabbed my coat before heading out the door. In less than twenty minutes I've reached the park, taking my time as I walk. I stop at the gate by the entrance and glance over the park before I make my way in.

There are few streetlamps within the confines of the iron gates; they give off a warm glow that reflects dimly off the many puddles of water along the grass and walkways. I assume very few people have been here in the last few weeks, for the rain has likely made everything too soggy to be enjoyed by the regular park-goers.

I decide that I will walk along the paved path and reach the Tosakinto pond at the park's centre before doubling back. I head out, glancing into the darkness between the trees as I go, alert for any sign of movement. My breath is shallow and irregular; I'm hit again by a spell of coughs due to the amount of walking I've done, and it becomes necessary for me to stop and catch my breath at the next resting place. Ahead of me is a thick hedge, grown up to the middle of my chest, and I recall seeing bench around the corner that I can use. I quicken my pace a fraction and close the distance.

I nearly leap out of my skin as I take the corner, for I see someone sitting on the bench already, a large bag by their feet. I must startle them as well, because I see them jolt in their seat, their hand flying to their chest as if to stop their heart from bounding out of it. My pulse races and I feel like shouting at the person, asking what the hell they were doing hiding out in the park so late at night. But I abruptly identify who it sitting there, and the words catch up in my throat.

"Satoshi?" He breathes out my name anxiously, and I feel my heartbeat pounding in my chest and ears, the blood rushing through me.

"What the hell are you doing out here, Shigeru?!" I shout, my nerves are still wired and angry, he had frightened me so badly.

"I could ask you the same thing," Shigeru retorts distractedly, hastily rubbing his hand across his brow beneath his hood. His eyes, I notice, are puffy and red-rimmed. My annoyance subsides at the sight. He releases a shaky sigh, not looking at me, choosing instead to stare at the ground and tighten his collar around his neck.

"You really scared me," I say more calmly this time, my pulse slowly returning to normal.

"Sorry," he mumbles absentmindedly, his gaze shifting everywhere but at me. He looks disorientated and uncertain of his surroundings.

"Shigeru, what's wrong?" I ask softly. I look at the large luggage bag at his feet, recalling how his wife had said she didn't know where Shigeru was. I wonder if he had been outside during the prior storm; he looked drenched, his rain-proof coat and hood acting as the only things that kept him from being soaked to the bone. "What are you doing out here this late? Are you all right?"

Shigeru pushes his hood back as he looks at me; my chest feels a sudden ache. He stands from his seat on the bench, taking a few shuffling steps towards me. "Not particularly, no," he chokes out, his voice sounding thick and raw. "I'm not okay."

"Did something happen while you were home?"

Shigeru doesn't voice an answer. His gaze once again averts to anywhere but towards me.

Struggling to remain calm, I repeat, "What are you here this time of night?"

Shigeru smiles mirthlessly and shakes his head. "Trying to figure out my next step. What to do."

I groan, frowning at his obstinacy; he isn't making sense. I had to find some way to get Shigeru to talk. Finally, I come up with an idea. Reaching down, I cough and take hold of his luggage and start walking.

"What're you doing?" Shigeru blurts, suddenly attentive to my actions.

"C'mon, it's freezing out here." I gesture a thumb over my shoulder, pointing towards a gate to our right. "Let's go the pub nearby."

Shigeru frowns, as if trying to decipher my words. "I didn't think you drank much."

"If it'll get you to talk, I'll drink." When Shigeru stares at me, confused, I give him a wry smile. "Well, you don't seem to talk much of your own accord. Might as well enlist alcohol to help."

"Ridiculous," Shigeru scoffs, shaking his head in an occupied fashion. "What if I don't want to talk?"

I give him a serious look. "Nothing's going to get better unless you talk about it."

"Talking about it hasn't always worked out for me."

I bite my tongue to keep from responding. I decide to take his lack of protests as an affirmation of my plan, and so I set off along the path to our right. Shigeru, I'm pleased to see, follows slowly behind, lost in his own thoughts. I barely hear him when he mumbles, "So what d'you want me to talk about?"

I slow my pace, allowing Shigeru to catch up beside me. Fighting back a coughing spasm, I reply, "Everything. The truth about the divorce, what's been going on with it." I pause before adding, "What's been eating away at you the entire time you were living with me."

"Aww, Sato," Shigeru drones sarcastically, "I didn't think you cared." His tone sobering suddenly, he says, "You couldn't wait to get rid of me before."

I flinch, feeling a guilty stab snake its way through my chest. "I made a mistake."

Shigeru seems to drop his guard ever so slightly. A moment passes before he finally says, "What you're asking me, to tell you what's going on with me and Jules…you don't want to know. You really don't want to get involved."

"Let me decide that once you've told me everything there's to know."

"Everything?" Shigeru sounds skeptical and, I realize with a surprise, nervous.

Shigeru glances away, considering what I ask of him. I didn't think it is too big of a demand, but he seems very averse to the idea of talking to me. A minute passes before he finally nods in agreement. "I guess I can do that," he replies, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip, his voice sounding clear and resolved in his position.

"Good," I say emphatically.

Shigeru still appears disbelieving. "You won't like what I'll tell you…."

"I'm sure that won't be the case," I answer in turn. "I want to know everything about our years apart, Shigeru: about you and Julia, your daughters, and especially about what is disturbing you." I look him forthrightly in the face, but he still avoids my gaze.

"It hurts to see you looking so miserable all the time," I say seriously, and I surprise myself by how much I mean it.

He slowly looks into my eyes, as if to confirm his belief that I was lying to him. When Shigeru sees the sincerity on my face, he seems to calm slightly against his rising fears. He nods wordlessly and I smile, feeling better than I had in a long time.

Shigeru moves to take back his soaked luggage from me but I stop him. He mutters that I don't need to carry it for him, and I reply that he doesn't need to complain about having some help. Except for a momentary coughing fit on my part, we arrive at the pub in silence, side by side in the cool late-night air.

Shigeru avoids looking directly at me as we enter the warmly lit tavern, the sounds of jovial people echoing into the cold night air as we open the door. The bright glow of the pub's neon signs bothers my eyes, and I cough deeply into my free hand several times as we make our way towards a private booth near the back. I struggle with the suitcase in my other hand; by now it feels bulky and heavy, and he must have enough clothes packed to be away from home for days. I suppose Shigeru had been planning to be gone that long, perhaps even longer…

Only once we're sitting at the table and have ordered our first bout of drinks, does Shigeru appear to have regained his standard, cool confidence. "I'm sorry," he says quietly, a hue of shame in his voice, "for losing control back there. In the park." He doesn't look at me as he says this.

I can't think of anything to say, so I remain quiet. Our drinks arrive, and Shigeru sets onto his pint with surprising speed. He leans his elbows onto the table, his head propped on one arm and staring at the table as he plays with an old coaster. I nurse my beverage slowly, deciding it would be beneficial to me if I lagged behind Shigeru in our drinking.

Clearing his throat, he says, "I-I don't really know where to start from, Satoshi. I don't know how much of it you want me to tell you."

"Talk until you feel better," I reply, my hand propping up my head. I didn't want him to have a set amount of information he had to tell me; I wanted him to speak until he no longer felt like speaking. "Start where you want to and get everything off your chest, Shigeru; you look like you're holding the weight of the world on your shoulders."

Shigeru concurs desolately, and I know he doesn't believe what I've said. It feels like hours have passed before he finally takes his hands down from his mouth and starts talking.

-0-0-0-0-

I got this chapter up in a mad-dash before leaving on vacation; again, apologies if there are spelling errors in this un-betaed mess of mine. Grand thanks to all reviewers; seriously, you have no idea how much you brighten my day! And sorry for the unfulfilling ending to this chapter, but the word count was edging onto five thousand and it is the only place I could put a break for the next one. Read and review, as always, please.