CHAPTER 36 – REQUIESCANT IN PACÉ

As the sun slipped below the horizon and blanketed Ayers Island in darkness, a solitary figure prowled the streets. The moon was yet to come out from behind the thick clouds that had been in the sky since early afternoon, and so he had the perfect cover to slip, unnoticed, through the winding roads and narrow lanes. He kept his hands in his pockets as he wove between crowds of people clamouring for a good dinner, and they were so busy with their own agendas that they never looked twice at him.

He was grateful for this, though; if anyone had taken notice of him, they would have recognised him immediately. He was one of the Trainers competing in the Championships, and he'd already made the third round by decimating his opponents in the first two, and Trainer Spotlight had splashed his picture, and footage of his crushing victories, across the television just this morning. He had enjoyed humiliating those Trainers, but he despised the attention that was being directed at him for doing so.

Besides, today wasn't a day to be happy.

The Trainer closed his eyes and stood stock still, reflecting. He knew what today marked, and what that day had cost. He was naturally sad for himself, but in the smallest way he was also sad for someone who, every other day of the year, he detested with all the fibres of his being.

But not today.

He opened his eyes and walked quickly down the street he was on, making a swift and hurried right turn at the next intersection to come out at a cul-de-sac. He quickened his pace as he saw his destination in the middle of the bend: a florist. He stopped out the front with his hand on the door handle, his eyes darting left and right to check that he wasn't being followed; he didn't want anyone – ever – to know that someone of his character had been caught visiting a flower shop. After making sure he was quite alone he swung the door open, slamming it shut behind him.

The shop itself was quite small and dull in the night; there was a lone ceiling light illuminating the space, and it cast the walls with an eerie half-glow. The Trainer moved stealthily towards the counter, trying to keep his face hidden in the shadows. He rapped his knuckles on the dusty counter, and an elderly man appeared through a door to the right, muttering impatiently as he limped over. The florist took his place behind the counter, running a hand over his withered face before he looked up at his customer. The old man recognised him, for his mouth curved into a mocking smile, showing a toothless mouth. His smile fell, and he trembled slightly as he saw the raw anger in his eyes, but otherwise he gave no sign that he was intimidated.

"What is it that I may sell you, young man?" he wheezed, gesturing towards a wall stacked to the top with a vivid array of flowers. The cold-eyed Trainer turned his gaze to the assortment of colours and strode quickly over. He bent down and inspected a bouquet on the bottom row, his face inches away from the flowers.

He straightened up, and without turning around, said, "This one."

"Ah, a bouquet of Starf flowers, good sir?" smiled the old man, rubbing his hands together greedily. "An expensive, but fine choice. Are they for a special lady that sir might wish to impress?"

The young man turned around stiffly, and looked at him with such hatred that he took an involuntary step backwards. "M-my apologies," he stammered hastily. "It-It's not my place to p-p-pry…"

"No, it's not," hissed the Trainer, snatching the bouquet up and walking back to the corner. "Now, how much will that be?"

"F-For you," said the old man, his eyes darting between the flowers and their holder. "Half p-price!"

His customer gave a fleeting smile. It was an evil thing, more hateful than a thousand curses, and the old man thought he saw the devil himself in it. But he said nothing, and the Trainer took a roll of money from his back pocket and tossed it contemptuously onto the counter. "That should do," he said, keeping the flowers held close to him as he turned on his heel and stormed out, slamming the door shut behind him.

He walked off under the cloudy night sky again, the bouquet tucked carefully under his arm. He passed a restaurant, and in the stark glow of a street-light across the street, he saw his reflection in the glass. He looked on impassively, his eyes running along the mop of hair covering his face, before shaking his head and moving on down the road. He took the occasional left and right on his way, and he walked relentlessly, not slowing down as he passed groups of people that turned and shouted after him. He stopped only when, at last, he reached his real destination, at the edge of Ayers Island, and the world, for all he could see beyond the blue sea. As he gazed out at the inky darkness in front of him, another figure walked up next to him. He, too, was carrying a bouquet, but instead of Starf flowers it contained a batch of Lum flowers, swaying gently in the sea breeze.

"Don't you think that it's fitting that the moon didn't come out tonight?" he observed, looking upwards at the dark expanse above their heads.

The Trainer followed his gaze and gave a disgusted snort. "I'd prefer if no-one saw me doing this," he said.

"Well, we can't always get what we want, can we?" sighed the second figure.

"Fuck you. Let's just get this over and done with."

"What's your problem?" he said, turning around to face the Trainer. "Come on, Paul, at least take this seriously. And I'm sure that we don't need to swear at each other."

"Yeah, well this is how I do things," said Paul stubbornly, taking the Starf flowers from under his arm. "So I'll say fuck you as many times as I want to. That way, I'll get what I want in that regard," he added with a glare.

"Fine, be your usual self," said the other figure crossly. "I see that I was wrong in thinking that for just ten minutes in the year we could not hate each other. I certainly don't hate you right now."

"Well rest assured, the feeling's not mutual," spat Paul. "And just so you know," he added, "I wouldn't be doing something this… extravagant—" he waved the bouquet in front of the other person's face, "—normally."

"Nor would you do it with someone like me," he smirked, before looking down at the Lum flowers bunched in his hand. "Well, since you're so impatient about it, we might as well do it now. You can go first, if you'd like."

They both turned soundlessly towards the water, which rippled quietly as though it was waiting for something to happen. Paul cleared his throat and held the bouquet of flowers in front of his chest with both hands, taking a deep breath. After a few seconds of silence, he shook his head, saying, "No, I can't do this—I'm not doing this." He turned away and swung the flowers through the air angrily, and a few petals broke off and swirled down to the ground.

"Fine, I'll do it then," said a voice over his shoulder. "I know you're not the kind to say too many words of kindness. Or words of many emotions."

"Shut up," snapped Paul, turning back to the ocean and bowing his head.

The other Trainer cleared his own throat and spoke in a loud, clear voice that carried over the waves and through the air. "Today was the day that light failed. When the loss of one was echoed in the broken hearts of a thousand more. When you were stolen away from everyone. But I have never forgotten you, and so I honour your memory with this bouquet, to reflect the beauty that you brought to the world." He threw the bouquet of flowers into the air, falling gracefully into the water and drifting away slowly on the ebbing current. "Requiescant in pacé," he murmured, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Don't be such a cry-baby," said Paul. But he sniffed remorsefully nonetheless and wiped at his eyes as well. He took a shuddering breath and stepped forwards. "You were a noble spirit who sought the betterment of us all, even a soul such as mine. But you were hunted by your enemies, and snatched from life in your youth," he said, his voice becoming shaky with bottled-up emotion. "And so I bear the burden of their actions, to live with the grief of knowing your loss. I offer this," he hurled the bouquet into the water, "to help pay a debt, to help fill the void, which your absence has left. Requiescant in pacé," he added as he watched the flowers float away. The moon shifted from behind a cloud, flooding the island with pale light. Paul brushed his eyes with his hand again and shook his shoulders, turning around to see his fellow griever. He saw a sweep of brown hair poking out from under a round-brimmed hat, and his face twitched involuntarily. "This changes nothing. I still hate you," he hissed. "You and your father."

Ari smiled. "At least this time, the feeling's mutual. Well, the father part anyways." He thrust his hand forwards. "Until next year, Paul."

"Fuck you, Ari," seethed Paul, but he grabbed Ari's hand and shook it roughly. He quickly let go and stalked away, fearing that he might have been far too friendly with his arch-nemesis. Ari stared after him, watching his purple hair disappear around the bend, before he turned back to the water. The bouquets had both disappeared, but he watched the flowing waves as they undulated and swept over the shore, oblivious to the keen pair of eyes watching him from afar.

Ari returned to his hotel room late in the night. He had left his Pokétch with Leoric before he'd gone out, and so he had little grasp of how much time had passed while he'd been gone. All he knew was that the sun had been up when he'd left, and now it was very dark. He reached the door to his room and swung his card key in the slot next to the handle; it was standard procedure in these sorts of hotels to have a security feature like this that activated after dark. A small green light beeped, and Ari heard a small click in the lock. He opened the door quietly and looked inside. He was met with a wall of noise and light, making him gasp and stumble through the doorway. Someone, or something, behind Ari shut the door on him and pushed him inside. Even before his eyes and ears could adjust to the harsh contrast from the hallway outside, a pair of arms threw themselves around his neck and he felt a familiarly soft pair of lips on his.

"Where were you?" Dawn asked, her face blocking out most of the light.

"I, uh… just went for a walk," mumbled Ari, forcing a smile. He unfastened her hands and looked beyond her to the lounge room. Ash and Pikachu were sitting on the armchair closest to him, and they and Anabel were laughing hysterically at a joke Tracey had just told them. Over by the doorway Leoric was chatting conversationally to Noland over a pair of light beers. Brandon was having what seemed to be a heated argument on the kitchen phone, but as Ari watched the large man let out a booming laugh and turned his back. Delia, May and Brock were seated at the living room table, discussing, from what he could tell, cooking recipes and ingredients. And on the lounge in front of him, Max was talking animatedly to Gary Oak about battle strategies, while Misty listened attentively, although her head was drooping slightly and her eyes were glazed. As Ari looked around at all of them, he could see the joy on their faces. But he just couldn't get into the mood. Today just wasn't a day to be happy. He turned his gaze back to Dawn and gave her quick kiss before forcing another smile.

"Excuse me, I need to get a drink," he said, moving away from her and towards Brandon. Dawn stared, feeling a little hurt by the emotion in his voice and by the way he'd shrugged her off, as he threw open the fridge door and grabbed at a bottle of Oran juice that was inside. He slammed the door shut and cracked open the lid with a soft fizzing noise, taking a heavy swig as he made for the open balcony behind Ash's armchair. He leant over the railing, drink in hand, staring out at the black sheet of water that stretched out in front of him beyond the horizon.

Dawn looked on worriedly at her boyfriend's behaviour, wondering why he was acting so distant all of a sudden. Well, it's been a long day, she thought. After all the stuff that happened, maybe he just wants to give Ash and us some space. Maybe he doesn't feel comfortable with being here… we've only known him for about five days, so he wouldn't know us all that well. I certainly know that he and I don't know each other much, she admitted sadly. I wonder what I should do… should I go over there and talk to him, even though he's already hinted that he wants to be alone? Or should I just leave it be? She struggled with the choice for a few moments, finally deciding that whatever Ari's issue was, he would tell her when he was comfortable with it. After reaching this conclusion she allowed herself to relax, and she sat down next to Misty. The impact on the cushions snapped Misty out of her half-conscious state, and she looked around, muttering like a madwoman.

"Wha—? I'm awake—I'm awake!" she stuttered, rubbing her eyes wearily.

Meanwhile, Ari sighed and looked down at the street-lit pavements as tiny shadows of people flitted across them like flies. He envied them for their innocent ignorance, but he pitied them, because they'd never known the joy of what he'd had and lost. He closed his eyes as a tidal wave of complex emotions threatened to drive him insane. Grief. Sadness. Hatred. He felt them all at once, along with a thousand more that had no names but were just as overwhelming. In a fit of rage Ari took his empty bottle in his hand and threw it out into the open air with all his strength. It stayed suspended in mid-air for three seconds, spinning like a top, before it succumbed to gravity and plummeted onto the roof of a shop across the street, shattering instantly into a million pieces that glittered in the moon's light. His breathing became heavy and ragged, and he gripped the railing with both hands until his palms grew red and his knuckles shone pearly white. He had no idea why this was happening to him; maybe it was because of Paul's attitude… but maybe it was also because of his unresolved issues with Paul's family. His face spasmed in anger. Everything I do seems to revolve around him, he thought bitterly Everything! His temper boiled, and he released all his emotions at once. He screamed at the sky, an inhuman howl that made the people on the ground look up at him in fear and sent flocks of Zubat, hanging down from power lines, flying away, shrieking feverishly to escape the sound.

It took Ari a while to fall silent, and once he had he realised he wasn't alone out on the balcony. Hidden in the shadows to his right was a pair of bright green eyes, winking back at him. "Who's there?" he asked edgily. The eyes disappeared briefly and moved forwards, and their owner stepped out into the moonlight. "Kaiden…?"

"It's Ari, right?" Kaiden asked politely, offering his hand to him. Ari stood his ground, so he shrugged and let his hand fall to his side. "You sound majorly pissed with something."

"Yeah, well it's none of your business."

"True," admitted Kaiden, his untied green hair blowing in the breeze. "But people feel better once they talk about it." Ari snorted at the subtle invitation.

"If I haven't told any of my closest friends for three years, what makes you think that I'm going to tell a stranger like you?!" he hissed.

"Well, I'm less likely to care about what you have to say," Kaiden pointed out. "Which means you're not gonna have to worry about me not being your friend anymore," he laughed.

"Fair point. But I'm still not telling you."

"Suit yourself. But don't say I never offered to hear you out." And with that, Kaiden shrugged his hands and walked back to the sliding balcony door, where everyone else had gathered. They'd been frightened by Ari's scream, and now that they knew who it had come from they were worried about him too. "Ball's in your court now, lass," he added to Dawn as he passed her. Ari heard the comment, and made to follow Kaiden, but he was stopped in his tracks when Brandon and Noland threw their arms out and dragged him back out into the open. He scowled at them, but otherwise said nothing and turned his back to them all to stare, once again, at the night sky.

"Ari? Come on man, what's wrong?" Leoric asked, taking a nervous step towards his friend.

"Everything's fine."

"No it's not," he said stubbornly. "Tell me."

"Nothing to tell."

"Bullshit!" he shouted, grabbing Ari by the back of the shirt and pulling him around to face him. "What's got you so spooked, huh?!"

"Spooked? Spooked?!" Ari cackled. "Spooked was when Dawn came to my first match! I'm not spooked!"

"You got spooked when I saw your first match?" whispered Dawn, but Leoric had no time for Ari's stalling.

"Then what is it?"

"How many times do I have to tell you?! It's nothing, I'm fine!" said Ari fiercely.

"Ari, you can tell us what it is," Ash muttered, moving forwards. "We all need to open to our friends once in a while; that's what we're there for."

"Well for once, I don't need to open up about anything. Now that's not to say that I don't consider you as friends, because I do. But this isn't something I can explain," he said, turning back to the edge of the balcony. He grabbed a PokéBall from his belt, and without facing around, murmured, "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a ride and try to clear my head. Dullahan." He tapped the button on the centre of the ball, and his Garchomp landed softly on the tiles next to him, spreading its arms wide and dipping its head towards its Trainer.

"Ari…?" said Dawn, her hands clasped together in front of her. Ari turned around, stiffly, and met her frightened gaze with impartial eyes. He took a few steps over to her and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"No need to worry," he smiled, and he walked back to his Pokémon and sat on its back. "Come on, Dullahan," he said, patting Garchomp on the neck. Garchomp nodded noiselessly and leapt from the balcony, soaring out into the open night, and leaving in its wake a huddle of confused and anxious onlookers.

Trivia:

*'Requiescant in pacé' – the name of the chapter and the phrase that Paul and Ari use in their speeches – comes from Latin, meaning 'Rest in peace'.

*Both bouquets of flowers symbolise something about the Trainers holding them, but it is a subtle connection that would take too long to explain.

*Ari uses Dawn's trademark comment before he flies off.

Quiz:

*What Pokémon, in the anime series, has Paul been confirmed to have caught the most of, and how many did he catch?