Pray
"This might seem like an unusual request, but if you're not busy, would you be willing to accompany my family and I to visit my parents' graves?"
Cynthia's words echoed through his mind as he allowed his Archeops to soar through the sky, heading for Celestic Town at noon that day.
Her request came as a surprise to Steven, but nonetheless he felt honoured towards the invitation. Honoured that she was willing to include him in something so private and personal to her family.
She once explained to him that she and her family always visited the cemetery on the day her parents passed to pray and pay their respects every year since. It was that time of year again and Cynthia had thought to have him come along too, if he wanted.
Steven didn't have to second guess his answer. He held great respect for her and her family. If they were all comfortable to want to have him in their annual tradition, then he would gladly accept such a privilege.
His pokémon landed on the ground just moments later and headed towards the Cynthia's family house. Within the few months since they'd gotten together, he had come by on several occasions to the home whenever her grandmother invited them both for dinner. It meant getting to know her family a little better, whom he came to be rather fond of and they with him.
Her grandmother and younger sister were delightful people to be around and he truly enjoyed the many times he was invited over.
A smile of delight crossed Steven's features once he saw the Sinnoh champion greet him at the door with a bright smile of her own. He pressed a kiss to her lips once he stepped inside and was met with the familiar, relaxing feel from the humble abode. He always did happen to like the atmosphere in there.
"I'm happy that you decided to come with us, Steven," Cynthia said to him as she led him down the hall. "We all are."
Steven sent her a soft smile. "It's really no trouble," he replied. "I'm honoured that you even invited me, in the first place."
"It was my grandmother's idea, really," she said, her tone more somber. "It used to be the four of us going every year, but since it's just us three now, she didn't think it felt right without another person there. I hope you don't mind the reason but I'm still glad you're here, regardless."
"Of course not," he assured her. "Whatever the reason, I'm happy to be with you – ah, with all of you here, that is." Steven cleared his throat at the small slip up.
He followed her into their living room, where a low, wrap-around sofa sat in front of a kotatsu table in the center. A TV was placed in an intricate, dark-wooded shelving unit that had various picture frames, small trinkets, and old books surrounding it. The tatami mat flooring that ran throughout nearly every other room in the house, was also present in this room, as well.
The room was rather spacious but to the point that every piece of furniture fulfilled its purpose to fill the room appropriately. Steven wasn't very fond of all the miscellaneous décor back at his family's mansion, which he knew was there to just fill up space in the large rooms. But here, he could only think that every item gave the place its character.
"We'll be leaving shortly," Cynthia told him, "just as soon as my grandmother and my sister are ready." She went up to a shelf to move a picture frame, fixing how it stood.
Steven went to her, noticing that her gaze was fixated on that particular picture she was holding. His own eyes followed suit to the photo of what looked to be a family, posing together, in front of an old shrine. A mother and father, with the father's arm wrapped around the mother's waist, and two young children, a blonde and a brunette, stood in front of them. They all smiling brightly towards the camera that took the scene.
It didn't take him long to realize who and what the photo depicted.
He hesitated to ask, "Are these…your parents?"
Cynthia hummed in agreement, a placid look upon her face. "I've always liked this photo of the four of us," she said softly.
Steven looked at the face of Cynthia's younger self in wonder. She was wearing a blue sun dress and had her arms wrapped around her younger sister. Her hair reached only down to her waist in the photo but he could see the beginnings of her long fringe growing out in the photo.
"You and your sister are adorable here."
Cynthia smiled fondly. "I remember that day when it was taken." She let out a small laugh. "My sister was a bit cranky when we went to visit that shrine, and my father told her how crying like that would bring angry spirits to our doorstep to search for the person who disturbed their sleep. He said that they'd place a curse on that person, granting them bad luck for the rest of their lives if she continued."
Steven widened his eyes. "That's a rather spooky story to tell a child."
She grinned. "Oh, it was, but she stopped crying soon after," she said. "After that, even when my parents had passed, my sister was always calmer and quieter when we took visits to the shrine. Though, I'll be honest, it spooked even myself at the time."
He gazed back at the picture, staring at the faces of her parents with interest.
Cynthia's father was a tall, handsome man who happened to have blond hair, like his daughter. The cuffs of his button-down shirt were rolled up to his elbows, giving him the appearance of a scholar. It was hard to tell, but the man had the same light grey eyes his daughters also possessed.
Her mother was as strikingly beautiful as both her daughters. She was tall and slender-looking, with a smile that brightened the photo wondrously. It was easy to see how similar her smile was to Cynthia's. Though there was more of a resemblance with her youngest daughter by the straight, golden brown hair they both shared.
More photos scattered about the shelves had similar photos, some of them individual shots of just Cynthia and Heather. There was no doubt, however, that Steven thought they were a good-looking family, in all.
Remorse filled the pit of his stomach at the thought of her family losing such precious people in their lives – both her parents and her grandfather.
"I'm sorry this happened," he said to her after they'd lapsed into a moment of silence, observing the photos before them. "I'm sure they were wonderful people."
Cynthia looked back at him, softening her gaze. "It happened very long ago, there's no need to worry about it," she reassured him. Her tone was devoid of any sorrow. "My grandmother has always said that even though they're gone, they would be proud of my sister and I. It's gotten me through a lot of hard times, before."
He thought so too. He deeply admired what hardships she had been through emotionally throughout her life and he could hardly be someone to compare his own feats with hers. Not that he wanted to. The level of confidence and character she possessed was something he knew not many people could measure up to.
At the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them, they both turned around. Her sister stood by the threshold of the room, holding Shinx in her arms. They both were unsure of how long she'd been standing there but it wasn't uncommon for Heather to pop in at random times.
Steven had seen it happen multiple times when he'd come over and witness the younger sibling's relentless teasing against the Sinnoh champion. He found it amusing and adorable whenever Cynthia would flush red in annoyance by her sister's comments.
"Hey, you lovebirds, Grandma says it's time to go," the brunette informed them when they focused their attention on her.
Cynthia nodded in understanding. "Tell her we'll be right there."
Heather seemed to have gave them both a lingering stare before she left shortly after. Cynthia then turned to Steven.
"You ready?"
Steven nodded as she placed her hand in his.
The drive to the cemetery took no time at all with Cynthia at the wheel.
Thankfully, Steven didn't have to fear for any eyes peering inside the vehicle for the windows were all tinted. Though the populace of the town was indeed rather small, none of them wanted to risk any signs of recognition by the townsfolk. Cynthia had said she'd get enough of that just by herself whenever she went into town. But once they arrived at their destination, the area was quiet and completely void of other people visiting the vicinity.
Once he stepped out, Steven took the initiative to lend a hand in aiding her grandmother out of the car and she, in turn, graciously took up his offer of help.
"How I wish I were as young as you three again," she joked with a hearty chuckle once she stepped out of the vehicle. "Thank you, Steven."
Heather soon appeared beside them to take out a small bouquet of flowers, intended to be placed by her parents' gravestones. Cynthia came around moments later, also holding one herself.
"Looks like we're all good to go," the old woman said as she looped an arm through Heather's elbow to steady herself.
"Grandmother, are you sure you'll be alright to make the walk all the way there?" Cynthia asked with concern.
But her grandmother rebutted her worried tone with a light scoff and flick of her hand. "Of course I will," she said with confidence in her tone. "I intend to make this trip the same way every year we come, and that's not about to change."
"We'll go slowly," Heather reassured her sister.
Heather led their grandmother went first through the multitude of tall, red archways that lined the stone steps, while the other two followed behind. The climb up the stairs was not very long since the hill was quite small. Steven glanced at the champion with a small smile as they walked behind the other two. He felt her fingers entwine with his for a fleeting moment, which was enough for him to give her a squeeze of reassurance, before returning her hand to her side.
Once they reached the top step, Steven gazed around and found that the cemetery held a completely different vibe than what he was initially expecting.
Perhaps it was from his previous experiences but, in truth, Steven thought cemeteries to always have an eerie ambience whenever he would visit them.
He'd been to Mt. Pyre in Hoenn plenty of times to be able to tell as much (the island was surrounded in a thick fog, after all). But for some reason, he felt none of those kinds of chills here. In fact, he felt quite the opposite. It was clear to him that the cemetery in Celestic was kept in pristine and perfect condition. Large trees surrounded the vicinity, with leaves rustling softly whenever a draft passed by. A running stream could be heard off in the distance. The air here was definitely a calming one.
Steven followed the family down the stone path, passing many different gravestones of many sizes, along the way, whilst he took in their surroundings. Everything in Sinnoh just never ceased to amaze him. His intrigue for the region's traditional ways and values only increased tenfold.
Cynthia's sister and grandmother were some distance in front of them when Steven turned his head to look over at her, only to notice her slightly distracted expression as they continued their walk. She'd been silent for most of the way, which he realized was probably because this day was never a fond memory for any of them.
"This place is really something," he said, trying to initiate some light conversation.
Cynthia hummed in agreement. "It is," she said. "I quite like the atmosphere here." Silence came after.
"Hey," he said, trying to catch the champion's attention. She looked back at him, questioningly. "Is everything alright?"
Cynthia nodded with a soft smile. "I was just thinking," she replied quietly. Her arm brushed against his when she moved closer.
Steven was tempted to put an arm around her. "About what?"
She hesitated to answer but managed to say, "About what it might have been like if my parents ever met you." A light laugh escaped her. "I'm sure they would have taken a liking to you, just like my grandparents have. Though I wouldn't think they would have interrogated you so much, like my grandfather."
"Is that so?" Steven laughed. "I suppose that'd be a huge relief, then," he mused, recalling the time he was introduced to the old man and had been asked questions right off the bat.
She laughed, as well. "My grandparents have said that my father was a very understanding man and I think he would have taken to you well, if anything. They always said they could see why my mother chose to be with him, because they complemented each other perfectly or something like that."
"What was your mother like?" he asked when his thoughts were brought back to her family picture he had seen back at her home.
Cynthia sighed deeply, a smile gracing her lips. "My grandmother says she was a lot like me – or, rather, I'm a lot like her. She was very caring and patient, and…just simply a down-to-earth kind of woman. I remember she was with me when I encountered my first pokémon – my Garchomp, that is, who'd been only a Gible at the time. She was the one who encouraged me to befriend it. I remember she was really great with pokémon, as was my father."
They took a turn on the path when Steven asked her, "Were they ever trainers?"
"My father was, but that was before the two had ever met," she explained to him. "My mother wanted to become an expert healer like the elders in this town, instead, because she liked taking care of anyone who needed aid. They settled down when my father decided to be with her, instead of deciding to continue his journey because he fell in love. I suppose my sister and I have been the ones to fulfill his dream, in his place."
Her story intrigued him. It served to strengthen his views that her parents were truly wonderful people he wished he could have met himself. He was amazed to know that Cynthia's values came not only from her grandparents but her parents, as well, despite their passing.
"They would have liked you, I'm sure of it," Cynthia said.
Steven smiled. "I'll stand by your opinion, if that's what you think."
The way she described her parents reminded him of his own. He, too, had thought about what it might be like to introduce her to them and how they'd react. From what he gathered, his mother and father were already happy for him and so he could only think that his parents would like her in a heartbeat. He gravitated towards her the moment they met, so surely his parents could see the same as he did.
Their other two companions had stopped when he heard Cynthia say, "We're here."
The four of them stood in front of two tall headstones, both of them cut identically into stone monuments with engravings of each of their names on them. A flat surface of the same kind of stone served as the base for the two headstones where two holders for flowers sat in front of each. As well, an intricately crafted, incense holder was placed below them, which Steven could only guess would be for the incense sticks they had brought along with them.
"The caretakers have done well in taking care of their stones over the years," the old woman said with a sigh of relief as she ran a hand down the smooth stones.
"Well, it is their job, Grandma," Heather said in amusement. She handed her grandmother the incense sticks she'd been holding.
Cynthia stood next to Steven and explained to him, "We say a little prayer in front of the stones after we've tended to the flowers and incense. You're welcome to say one too."
Steven stood a respectable distance behind the family, and watched as the two sisters bent down to place their flowers into their holders. Their grandmother did the same with the incense sticks and lit them with a small matchbox. Scented smoke rose into the air, as the family stood on their knees against the ground to say their prayers.
None of them spoke a word, only the rustling of the leaves by the wind could be heard. Steven didn't think being in a cemetery could be so relaxing and tranquil if he hadn't agreed to Cynthia's request. He watched as she lifted a hand to place against the surface of the erect headstone and listened as a small sigh escaped her lips.
Thinking back to what she said about her parents falling in love and deciding to settle down with one another – could he have something like that with someone in his future? With someone like her? There was no denying that he felt strongly for the young woman. They'd gotten a lot closer from the day he told her how he felt and he found every moment spent with her made him happy (he liked to think that she thought the same).
Every tug at his heart and flutter inside him was because of her. He'd only felt something like that for someone once before.
But that was an idea he could ponder about later.
For now, he went on to also pay his respects with the people in front of him. He figured that there was always a time and place for everything. Until that time came, only then would he know.
Well this was another prompt that was fun to write. As always, thanks for reading!
