Kyle throws him a bone and doesn't interfere with his coffee dates with Myna. As much as he appreciates it, he can already tell it's a lost cause.
You know a girl just isn't interested when she keeps asking about your best friend's taste in women. He hates to break it to her, but—
"Well, the thing is," he rubs his neck, "I've only ever seen him interested in guys."
Myna's face falls, and he flinches at the heartbroken look on her face.
"Well, to be fair, only one guy. Specifically that one guy," he amends.
Myna doesn't say anything more, and he's not sure what to do. He quietly sips on the rest of his coffee for the remainder of the date, wondering if he should try to break things off amicably.
He brings it up to Kyle the next morning. Roger's good to talk to on lonely days, but he's even worse when it comes to girls.
The two of them eat breakfast that consists of nothing but malasadas in one of the parks. It's the only time they can let out their pokemon all at once.
"Just be friends then," Kyle advises. "It's not hard."
"Can guys be friends with girls?" He wonders.
"Sure, but first you got to stop thinking of them as 'girls.' " The Ace trainer says, throwing two malasadas towards his Arcanine.
The Arcanine snaps up both effortlessly. He hands a malasada to Chansey who's waving its arms in excitement.
"What do you mean?" His brow furrows.
"Well, first, they're women, not girls. Second, just you know, treat them like you would your friends," the man says, patting the sleeping Snorlax he's been leaning against.
"You do know you're my only friend, right?" He looks down at his own breakfast.
"What about—huh," Kyle blinks, "you don't ever go anywhere outside of work, do you?"
"This is the first time I've been so active, yes," he frowns.
"Well then, all the more reason to keep talking to her!" Kyle exclaims, tossing a malasada in the air.
Noctowl swoops down and catches it before Arcanine does. The giant pokemon lets loose a small stream of fire; the Noctowl replies by circling lazily in the air to taunt it.
Chansey chirps happily next to him, and he takes a bite out of his own breakfast to think about things.
"Hey," he suddenly realizes, "if the last time Myna saw you, you were twelve, how did she recognize you?"
Kyle freezes, a malasada hovering next to his mouth.
"How did she know? Last time I saw her, she was eighteen," the Ace trainer's eyebrows furrow. "She only gained a few wrinkles, but I should be practically unrecognizable."
Unable to think of anything, they agree to meet for lunch and ask her. Kyle takes his leave to make other Ace trainers cry, and he heads to the Pokemon Center to begin work.
...
"So, Myna, when you threw your scissors, how did you know it was me?" Kyle asks, munching into a sandwich.
He takes a bite out of his own salad and tries not to look eager for the reply.
"Oh, um," the hairdresser fiddles with a hair clipper, "I may have followed your career a bit."
"You tracked me?" The Ace trainer says in disbelief.
"Just a bit!" Myna waves the hair clipper nervously.
"He was always moving, how'd you do it?" He asks, lowering his plastic fork.
"He wasn't exactly subtle. Got word that some new trainer named 'Kyle' was taking Kanto by storm."
"Huh," Kyle says, "did I miss you somewhere?"
"No, we never saw each other. I just saw you in some newspaper clippings and on tv. I was so mad at you, but I couldn't stop collecting anything that had you in it," Myna admits.
"Do you still have any of those newspaper clippings?" He asks, curious.
"Just the one that shows him shaking hands with Champion Lance—"
Kyle's sandwich goes flying, and he practically dives at her.
"Where?" The Ace trainer shakes her by the shoulder.
"What?" Myna asks, eyes wide.
"Ah," he blinks, "you'd better make a copy."
He pries the man off and keeps a restraining hand on Kyle's shoulder. He looks Myna straight in the eye and says,
"Because if you don't, you might just make him cry."