When Cyrus was first learning how to read, he memorized the appearance of certain words before he mastered letters. If he saw that specific combination, it got grouped together as one mental image. If a word he recognized appeared on a billboard or somewhere in a grocery store, he'd point it out to his mother.
For a short while, he duped Nichole into thinking he could read. Although she'd initially been proud, the charade was broken when she asked him to spell the word and he couldn't do it. She was disappointed and he was mortified. At least he learned his lesson on that: for western languages, learn the alphabet first.
The Kinzonian alphabet shared some letters with the international alphabet, but there were some others Cyrus had to learn: like a backwards R, and another letter that looked like a stylized K staring at its reflection in a mirror. The first book went into detail on each letter: both capital and lowercase, as well as how to pronounce it.
That book probably only took an hour or so to complete with all exercises patiently laid out. Cyrus did every exercise four times, took a nap, and checked again to see if he still remembered the material. He could either do that or watch crappy public access TV. At least attempting to learn the language made him feel productive.
The other primers were laid out in a way he found incredibly useful. Each time he flipped to a new page, the left would be written in international and the right would be in Kinzonian. The words were color coded so he could match them and get a basic grasp on how sentences were structured. This wouldn't be enough to turn him fluent in a few days, but it was at least a start.
He was so engrossed in his studies that he completely skipped breakfast. The warm room melted the gelatin into a green, goopy mess. Next to it were a piece of stale, room-temperature toast with some kind of drippy fruit preserve on top and a knockoff sports drink the same unappetizingly artificial shade of blue as window cleaner.
At least he felt well enough to use the bathroom by himself. When he got up to do that, he caught sight of the time and realized Cynthia never showed up for a morning visit. That was disappointing, but there was no need to dwell on it.
'She's probably gearing up to challenge the Gym Leader…not that there's any sense of urgency to do that. It's not like we can leave Kalium City anytime soon. Nobody's going anywhere until the police catch the bombers.'
When he felt better, he'd report Bobbi and Cooper to the local police. That would make him feel far better than any surgery or antibiotics ever could. Chances were Cynthia and anyone else they knew who saw Team Sigma on the train would want to do the same; but all of that had to wait.
The earliest he could leave Kalium General Hospital was Friday, but something could always go wrong. He could have a bad reaction to the antibiotics. One of his surgical wounds could fester. Or maybe the nurses would make up some bullshit reason to keep him and charge his parents more money.
At least Cynthia gave him enough books to keep him occupied. He reached for the next primer (a book which focused entirely on how to give directions) and opened it. With each lesson, he found himself relying a little less on the translated page. Some words were starting to look familiar. He'd be able to pick them out in newspapers and billboards, just like he did when he was little.
"Ahem." A nurse leaned against the doorframe and folded her arms. Her sharp eyes went toward the tray beside Cyrus's bed and then back up at him. When he made eye contact with her, she glared. "You still haven't eaten that?"
"I wasn't hungry," Cyrus grumbled, going back to his book. The words and pronunciations for north, east, south, west, left, right, forward, and backwards were in here—and the Kinzonian names for the cities, too! That was more important than eating stale food.
The nurse took a deep breath and puffed up her chest like a disgruntled Empoleon. "I know the antibiotics make everything taste bad, but you need to at least make an attempt to eat. Do you want me to cut you open and insert a feeding tube?"
That was obviously a bluff, but Cyrus didn't like the way this woman kept looking at him. There was something vicious burning in her eyes: like she was mentally checking off an entire list of potential threats she could use to get him to comply.
"You have a visitor in the waiting room," she jeered. "She can't see you until you eat something."
So far as Cyrus knew, his parents had only authorized Cynthia to visit him. Did the hospital staff pull this same nonsense with her this morning? Was that why she never showed up? Cyrus was too tired to fight the nurse, but he was certainly angry. "I said I'd eat it later."
The nurse's tone turned falsely saccharine: like she was talking to a fussy toddler rather than a teenager. "Then I guess she'll have to visit you later, too."
'Fine. Have it your way.' Cyrus glanced over his options and tried to figure out which food would taste the least disgusting. He settled on the toast and shoved the whole thing into his mouth.
Not only did it taste dry and stale, but something on it had spoiled. The more he chewed the bread, the more he believed that it was partially sawdust. It stuck to everything and turned into a glue-like consistency as it mixed with his saliva. It took a lot of effort to swallow, but he managed.
The nurse didn't say anything. She just watched in disgusted disbelief as Cyrus downed the gelatin. He chugged the sports drink so fast that he barely took the time to breathe. The taste was nothing short of godawful. A couple of times, his body lurched in protest. Whenever something tried to come back up, he swallowed it down: coughing and grimacing the whole time.
"Alright," the nurse snapped. "You win. I'll tell your friend she can come in, but you need to pace yourself next time." As she left the room, he heard her mutter something under her breath with more vexation than he'd heard from any Kinzonian so far: "иностранец!" He hadn't learned that word yet, but he doubted it was anything good.
If he called home and told his mother he was teaching himself Kinzonian, Nichole would probably give him lukewarm praise at best and a scolding at worst. At least Cynthia would be impressed that he'd picked up the alphabet and a few words. He reached for the box of tissues on his nightstand and dabbed at his mouth, just to make sure none of that nasty food was still there.
Cyrus expected to hear the soft sound of Cynthia's black boots touching the tile, but it never came. Instead, he heard a louder clacking noise: high heels on a heavier woman. A few seconds later, he saw a short but thick shadow morph across the hall. Cyrus flopped back in his bed, thinking this person was here to visit another patient.
He was wrong. This woman was here to see him, and she was someone he knew.
Renata peeked in, just to make sure Cyrus wasn't sleeping. Once she realized he was awake, the old woman sheepishly waved at him with her one free hand. Her other arm was loaded down by a metal lunch pail: the sort of thing a kindergartner would bring to school. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"
"No," Cyrus reassured her, trying his best to contain his excitement. "I've been up for a while. Come in."
Renata found the guest chair and eased herself into it. She was all smiles. "Poor Cynthia has run herself ragged these past few days. She wants everything to be perfect for you. I actually had to talk her into taking a break to do something fun with Isaac today."
"Oh? That's why she didn't come?"
Cyrus actually felt relieved to hear Cynthia was hanging out with other people. Every time she visited, she looked exhausted. Every fifth word was a yawn and she could barely keep her eyes open. The only things she talked about were all the errands she'd run in preparation for his release: washing his clothes, spending time with Golbat and Eevee, picking up books at the library, and so on.
He just assumed the chores were her way of coping. Even though Cynthia was physically fine, she didn't leave the train unscathed. If anything, the bombing probably scared her even more because she was awake for the entire ordeal. Cyrus had mercifully lost consciousness after a while, but Cynthia didn't have that escape. Instead, she had to keep her wits about her and find help before her friend bled to death.
He couldn't even begin to imagine how frightened she must have been. He also didn't know what he'd do if the situation had been reversed. As much as he wanted to believe he'd stay calm and save her, there was no way to know for sure. Hopefully, he'd never have to find out.
But Cynthia was going to spend the day with some mutual friends. If she did nothing but run errands, visit him for a couple of hours, and sit alone in the room; he'd have more reason to worry. Isaac was a good guy with a good heart. He'd certainly cheer her up. "I'm glad you convinced her to do that. I've been worried about her. So, um…what's in that bucket?"
"Oh, not much: just a get well soon present." Renata pulled the lid off the pail to a tin of shortbread cookies with some kind of green jam in the middle. "I figured you were probably tired of hospital food, so I made these."
In Sinnoh, people presented gifts and business cards with both hands. They also accepted the item with both hands. Cyrus grabbed both sides of the tin carefully, so as not to drop any cookies, and took a better look. They were in various Pokémon shapes: like the sort of frosting-covered cookies his grandfather kept in the house when he visited. The jam was the only part that seemed weird to him, mostly because he couldn't figure out what flavor it was by color or smell alone.
He ended up closing the lid and giving Renata an apologetic look. "I'm really sorry, but I'm not hungry right now. I'm sure they taste as good as they look, but just the thought of food is making me feel sick."
At least Renata didn't appear to be offended. "It's the antibiotics, isn't it? Which one do they have you on, dear?"
"Amoxicillin."
The old lady's round face crumpled up into an expression of disgust. "Oooooh, that one's the worst! They put me on that when my daughter gave me Wooper Cough. No matter what I did, my mouth tasted like a hot dumpster."
Cyrus was nodding his head in agreement. He'd told Cynthia that it tasted as bad as morning breath smelled, but it was worse. Way worse.
"But I found a few things that could bypass the taste. When my children were sad or sick, I'd swap regular eggs for Chansey eggs. Not only did they recover faster, but the eggs have a very sweet taste that mixes well in baked goods. Luckily for you, a mutual friend of ours has a Chansey and was more than happy to donate an egg. You remember Grigol Beridze from the Plumbum Lodge, don't you?"
The name didn't ring any immediate bells. Cyrus closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remember any trainer who had a Chansey in the Plumbum City Trainers Lodge. He never battled one, so his memory was a bit hazy. The only thing that sounded familiar was the surname.
"Is that the guy with the little sister? The short, pudgy kid with pink hair?" When Renata nodded, Cyrus snorted out a quick chuckle. "I remember her more. When I beat Simon, she called me an evil genius."
"Well, I'm not so sure Tamari was right about you being evil! You're a fine young man in my eyes: polite, well-mannered, and considerate." Renata fished a few other things out of her bag: about half a dozen colored envelopes with cards inside. "Some of your other friends wanted to wish you a fast recovery, too. I said I'd pass along their messages with the cookies. Are you sure I can't convince you to eat one? Not even just a bite?"
Even though his stomach begged him not to do it, Cyrus opened the tin and pulled out a cookie. 'Just one,' he repeated to himself. He nervously opened his mouth, took a bite…and realized he could actually taste the flavor rather than the medicine! For the first time in ages, it no longer tasted like some kind of animal crapped in his mouth and died there. It was nothing short of a miracle.
For the first time since he left Plumbum City, he could feel his appetite coming back. Not only did he end up eating the full cookie, but he followed with another three more. The only reason he stopped was because Renata begged him to slow down and save some for later. "These are amazing. What are they?"
"Well, the cookies are a traditional almond shortbread that's popular in Stannum City. The filling is a Kinzonian jam called varenye. This is pine cone varenye."
"Pine cones?" No wonder he thought it smelled clean! "You can eat those?"
"Yes, you can! Where I come from, we'll make varenye out of anything that's edible: berry peels, melon rinds, pine cones, and even flowers. My daughter loves it with roses. How does your stomach feel, dear? Still queasy?"
Cyrus shook his head and put the cookies away. If he kept looking at them, he'd eat the entire tin. Then he really would be sick. "I'm glad you came to visit me. You weren't on the train, were you? I was worried about you."
"No, dear. I don't like the Metro very much and try to avoid riding it whenever I can. If the weather's clear enough for me to drive, I'll drive. Did you see the bombers? Cynthia said they were on your train."
Just the thought of Team Sigma was enough to sour Cyrus's mood. "Yes," he grumbled, clenching his sheets. "And I recognized them. Once I'm out of here, I want to talk to the police." He could hear Renata hum something in agreement, but her face looked hesitant. "What's wrong? Is that a bad idea?"
"Not at all. If you know who they are, it's your civic duty to report them to the proper authorities. It's just that this city isn't as foreigner-friendly as Plumbum City. Kalium City is a bit choosier with which types of foreigners they decide to welcome: mostly Unovans and Alolans. Sinnohese travelers like you and Cynthia…I don't know. I'd just feel better if I accompanied you to the police station."
He could tell Renata was on the verge of apologizing for that, possibly thinking she sounded overly protective or paranoid. Cyrus didn't see it that way. He gave her a small, tired smile and shrugged his shoulders. "Better safe than sorry, right? Do you mind if I ask you something a little more personal?"
"Hm? No, I don't mind."
"How did you get in here? The nurses told me nobody can visit unless my family approves it."
Cyrus was pretty sure Cynthia called his parents and asked them to add Renata as an approved visitor. He was happy to see Renata, and he was sure Cynthia had done this with nothing but good intentions in her heart. It just pissed him off that she didn't even stop to ask him if he wanted her to do that. Sure, he would have said yes—but she couldn't even be bothered to ask!
"Well…" Renata sat back in her chair and took a deep breath. "I mentioned to Cynthia that I wanted to see you. I'm quite fond of you and wanted to make sure you were alright. She gave me your father's work number and I called him."
"Wait…" All the blood in Cyrus's body tried to find a place to hide, leaving him as white as a ghost. "You called my dad?"
All he could think about was how that conversation (probably disastrously) played out. Alexander could be an absolute brute when things didn't go his way. Did he yell or say anything hateful to his friend? Renata was a fine woman: a true lady! She had never been anything other than kind and gentle in Cyrus's presence; but that wouldn't mean anything to Alexander if he was in a bad mood. And he would be, considering the topic was his son.
Cyrus tried to get his mouth to work so he could ask Renata if she was alright. At the very least, he wanted to apologize for whatever vitriol Alexander spat at her; but nothing came out. He was temporarily mute and shaking all over. All he could do was look at her with fretful eyes and meekly nod his head when she asked if it was alright to hug him.
Renata was short, but hardly petite. Her arms were soft and comfortably plump. Cyrus just wanted to collapse into her and stay put, if only for a brief while. When Renata tried to pull away, she couldn't because Cyrus was hugging her back very tightly. "There's nothing to be afraid of," she insisted. "Once I told him how we know each other, your father was more than happy to let me see you."
He couldn't believe what he was hearing! "What…? Really…?"
…
"You're sure you want to do that?"
Renata couldn't fault Cynthia for being worried. She and Cyrus both came from one of the safest and friendliest regions in the International Pokémon League. Sinnoh wasn't the sort of place where organized crime, mad bombers, and crazy idealists ran rampant. They probably didn't even lock their doors at night.
"Yes, I am. You aren't the only person in this Lodge who's worried about Cyrus, dear."
"I know that, but…" Cynthia pulled the old lady aside so the backpackers wouldn't overhear their conversation. "Before I give you his home phone number, there's something you need to know. Cyrus doesn't come from a happy home and his parents aren't nice people. I've never met Mrs. Akagi, but I've heard things. And Mr. Akagi has a temper. He yells."
"Oh, is that all? Some men bark, honey. It's not that big of a deal." She held out her hand expectantly, hoping Cynthia would just give her the damn note, but the girl was still hesitant. "I grew up in north Kinzo—during the revolution, no less. How much do you know about that?"
She'd chatted with Cynthia enough times to know how much she loved ancient history. There were at least three archaeologists in the Shirona family and Cynthia accompanied them to multiple sites in the past. She and Cyrus spent an entire day at the Ædranos Ruins just looking around and learning about the people who used to live there.
Renata just wasn't sure how much enthusiasm this kid had for the more modern stuff. If Cynthia had a penchant for that, then Kinzo was going to be a treasure trove of violence, depravity, and bad ideas.
The girl fidgeted a bit, sticking her hands deeper inside her sweatshirt. They were probably cold. "I don't know that much, Renata. I've just watched bits and pieces from the Heritage Channel."
Dear sweet Arceus. Cynthia was bored enough to be watching that garbage? Considering who the government hired to narrate those documentaries, they may as well have rebranded themselves as the Beauclair Propaganda Channel! Renata kept those remarks to herself and remained outwardly calm.
"I'll spare you the details, but Kinzo's been subjected to more than a few military coups since the '40s. The worst and first successful one was Comrade Vasiliev in '55. You want to talk about a man who could yell? Vasiliev could yell! No offense to Cyrus's father, but I'm pretty sure he's nothing by comparison. He doesn't scare me."
Cynthia sighed and finally surrendered the note. "Okay. If you say so." She didn't sound too convinced, but her friends were begging her to hurry up. The sooner they left, the more time they'd have to enjoy the marina. "But don't say I didn't warn you."
Renata slipped the paper into her coat pocket and chuckled. "Oh, you certainly did; but I'm not worried. He can't be that much older than my son; and I don't let Aldo talk to me like that, either. Have fun at the harbor, dear. I'll be fine. Boys?" She felt a bit bad calling them that, but Isaac was the only one she knew by name. None of the others ever challenged her. Their egos were probably too fragile to risk losing to a little Kinzonian granny. "You'll take good care of Cynthia, won't you?"
Isaac grinned and gave her a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am! And tell Zed we'll be back by curfew!"
Until the noisy group left the Lodge, Renata stood at the bottom of the stairs and waved goodbye. As soon as the coast was clear, she fished the note out of her coat and headed back to her private room. It took no time at all to dial, but it did take forever for somebody to answer the phone.
On the other side of the screen was a stern-looking man with slicked-back navy blue hair and a closely cropped beard. He bore a strong resemblance to Cyrus: especially with his mouth, nose, and cheekbones. He was just older, surlier, and certainly a lot more muscular. With a friendlier expression, he may have even looked handsome.
Renata took a deep breath, preparing herself for every horrid thing Cynthia tried to warn her about. "Hello. Am I speaking with Mr. Alexander Akagi?"
"Yes. Who is this?" He honestly seemed more confused than angry. "This is a Kinzonian area code. Why are you calling me?"
"Sir, my name is Renata Cordova. I believe you spoke with Miss Cynthia Shirona not too long ago." The man nodded his head to confirm. "I'm a mutual friend of both Miss Shirona and your son. I'm calling to see if you'd be amenable to letting me visit Cyrus in the hospital."
"Wait. You said your name was…Cordova? Right?"
"Yes, Mr. Akagi."
Apparently, the surname struck some sort of chord with him. Alexander murmured something under his breath, but Renata didn't catch what he'd said. "Can you hold on a moment? I need to check something."
"Of course. Take as much time as you need." It wasn't like Renata had anything better to do, anyway. She waited patiently, hoping that Alexander didn't leave her waiting for too terribly long.
He came back less than two minutes later with an old leather wallet and a much friendlier expression on his face. Weirdly enough, Renata was reminded of how Cyrus looked when he outsmarted Simon. There was some pride burning in that man's face. "I thought your name sounded familiar! I'm a former army brat and moved around a lot when I was a kid. I did part of a Kinzo journey about thirty years ago."
"Ooooh…" Renata cringed when she heard that. "You came here just after the Period of Adjustment, didn't you? How far did you get with the old league?"
Alexander smirked and opened up the wallet. "You know, I can't exactly talk about this sort of thing openly with my wife. Nichole doesn't like Pokémon battles, but look. See for yourself." There were six Kinzonian badges in his wallet, some of which had been replaced with newer badges since he did his journey.
"Oh my! Six out of eight, eh? That's not bad at all—especially not for that era!" Renata smiled and was pleased to see he smiled back.
"I wanted to look over my old Kinzo notes because your surname sounded familiar," Alexander confessed. "And I was right: I battled a Cordova before. You wouldn't happen to be related to Sterling Cordova, would you? When I got to Stannum City, the locals told me he was next in line to become a Gym Leader."
Renata's smile turned a bit nostalgic rather than chipper. "He never succeeded, dear, but yes. Sterling is my former husband." There was a trace of a smile on Alexander's lips, not that Renata understood why. "Considering we're talking about him all these years later, he must have left quite an impression on you."
"He most certainly did. Sterling's one of the toughest trainers I ever faced—Kinzonian or otherwise! This…wow…" He chuckled a bit, running his fingers through his hair. The pomade was starting to lose its holding power. "I never imagined my son would meet somebody like you out there! How on earth did that happen?"
"Well…" Oh Arceus. Where did she even want to begin? "Sterling and I were married for almost fifty years. Now that the children are grown and my house is empty, I decided to set out and go on a Pokémon journey. I couldn't take one in my youth, you see. We married during the revolution, had a family, and there never seemed to be a good time for me to go. I'm doing quite well, but it hasn't been easy."
Alexander's smile still hadn't faded. He leaned against the edge of the wall, like he was prepared to let this conversation go on indefinitely. As much as Cynthia wanted to tell her this man had a temper, Renata had yet to see it. Instead, he was greeting her as though she were an old family friend. "It wasn't easy thirty years ago, either. I've done some very difficult league challenges, but your league was certainly the toughest."
"It's gotten tougher," Renata insisted, "especially with the newer Gym Leaders. Each time one of the old guard retires or dies, these newcomers feel like they have something to prove. They go out of their way to be difficult, just to prove to Prime Minister Beauclair that the Kinzo League made the right choice in hiring them.
"Simon Morozov, our Plumbum City Gym Leader, has been nothing short of a nightmare for his opponents. When Cynthia and Cyrus came to town, I'd been stuck on at that gym for nearly eight months. They managed to defeat Simon in record time."
Alexander's eyes were wide open with surprise. "My kid did that?" He didn't sound angry at all! If anything, he sounded proud. "Cyrus already has a Kinzo badge?"
"Yes. Like you, he has a Lead Badge." Renata held hers out to show to Alexander that despite how much time had changed, the badge's design never did. "In fact, Cyrus is the first newcomer to win a Lead Badge on his first try. That defeat shook Simon so badly that he couldn't concentrate on his other battles for the rest of the week—even mine. I owe your child a lot, Mr. Akagi. I couldn't have progressed in my journey without him. He's a very clever and resourceful young man. You must be very proud of him."
The man was all smiles, even to the point of his cheeks turning red. "I am—but don't tell him I said that."
"Eh?"
Alexander cleared his throat, clearly deciding that this needed to be clarified. He didn't like the way Renata was looking at him. "Did, uh…did Cyrus tell you how he got to Kinzo?"
"Hm?" Renata wracked her brain, trying to remember a time when Cyrus told her how he got there. "It never came up, sir. I just know that he and Cynthia are helping Professor Myrtle with something. I'm a mite hazy on the specifics."
It was a bit unnerving how deep of a breath that man took. When it came out, it was clear some part of what Renata said left Alexander feeling both frustrated and tired. "That's not exactly a lie," he started, "but it's not the entire truth, either. Yes, Cyrus is working for Professor Myrtle. What he failed to tell you is that he filed for that internship behind our backs. We only found out about it after he'd already flown out to Kinzo."
Something else was building on Alexander's face, but he was difficult for Renata to read. "I didn't even know he applied. If I'd known a regional professor wanted to hire him, I probably would have let him go. Most trainers would sell a kidney just for an opportunity to talk to one! It's a huge honor."
"Yes. It is. Both of my children received an Eevee from her ages ago."
Alexander sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I've gone over it in my head at least a hundred times. I think I know why Cyrus kept mum on this. My wife has been morbidly fascinated with Kinzo since Beauclair seized power twelve years ago. She's convinced he's going to bomb us any day now. If Cyrus so much as said the word Kinzo to her, she'd shut him down immediately.
"And I know for a fact he's afraid of me. If I'm home, he actively avoids being anywhere near me. Maybe he was too scared to tell us, but I still wish he had. Instead…"
Alexander closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, trying to keep some of the throbbing veins on the sides from getting too large. Renata could see them throb.
"Instead, he forged my signature on the permission form so Myrtle would buy the plane ticket. He waited until we were both away on a business trip and took that opportunity to run away. We came home to an empty house, not knowing where our son was. You're a parent. I'm sure you can understand how terrified we were."
Renata was speechless. What could she even say in response to that? Her children would never do something like that, but they also hadn't lived in fear of a parent. They were both well-loved and never doubted that love. They told her everything. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Akagi. I can understand why you're angry."
"I'm not even angry anymore, Mrs. Cordova. I'm just disappointed."
Considering how red Alexander's face was turning, Renata wasn't so sure she believed him. He kept drumming his fingers on the table and fidgeting around.
"When I first found out; I was prepared to fly out to Kinzo and drag him home, even if he kicked and screamed the entire way. Now, I'm more disappointed with myself. I haven't forgiven Cyrus for what he did yet, but I know why he didn't feel comfortable talking to us. I guess a part of me is relieved to see he worked up enough courage to rebel for once."
He glanced down at his hands, paying close attention to his gold wedding band. He pinched the ring and slowly moved it back and forth. "My wife is autistic, as well as very quiet and non-confrontational. Cyrus may look more like me, but he's picked up more than a few of Nichole's quirks and mannerisms. He's never stood up to me before. He just tries to avoid me. This is proof there's actually a backbone in there. I never thought he had one.
"Don't get me wrong. Nichole wants him to come home and I'm worried too. Kinzo isn't exactly a friendly country, but maybe I shouldn't underestimate him. I mean, he's already beaten one of your Gym Leaders and set a new record. By the time that internship ends, I'm sure he'll find other ways to surprise us. I'm proud of him, Mrs. Cordova. I just don't want him to know it. Can you understand why?"
Very slowly, Renata nodded her head. "Yes, dear. I can."
"I'll add you to his list of approved visitors. I'm glad to see he's opened up enough to make a few friends. And ma'am? Do, uh…do take care of him while he's out there. He fucks up sometimes, but he's a good kid. I don't want to see him get hurt."
…
"…yes. And I have one other surprise for you in my bag." Renata held out her tote, gesturing for Cyrus to open it up and see what was inside.
He felt a little anxious doing that. Although he knew exactly how his mother organized her purse, it was off limits to him. If he needed to borrow something out of it, he always had to ask Nichole to grab it. Trying to do it himself usually merited a lot of fake coughing and a death glare. Still, what was the harm if Renata was actually offering it to him?
Very gently, Cyrus opened the bag to see Golbat and Eevee's Poké Balls sitting on top of some clean clothes. As soon as he picked up Eevee's ball, he could feel him rolling around excitedly inside. He was just as eager to see Eevee again, too. "How did you…why are these things here?"
"I had a conversation with your father as well as the doctors. You can leave this afternoon."
Cyrus couldn't believe what he was hearing! They were going to discharge him early! Even if Renata only came in here to visit him, just seeing her had brought him some peace of mind. Hearing that he could leave his horrible hell and go back to the Trainers Lodge brought him the closest thing to joy he'd felt in ages.
He held the shirt and pants up to his chest, ready to get out of bed and change. "Why did they change their mind? I still have two days' worth of antibiotics left."
"Don't get too excited, honey. There were some terms and conditions to this early release," Renata explained. "You'll need to finish your amoxicillin without missing a dosage. Like you said, you only have a couple of days left. I know how nasty they are, but you'll be much worse off if you stop taking them."
"I know how antibiotics work, Renata. That's not going to be a problem."
"I also promised your father that if he agreed to this, you wouldn't leave the Trainers Lodge until I think you're well enough to do so. He told me how much you hate hospitals, so I figured you would sleep better in the Lodge. Cynthia has a private room for the two of you, by the way. All your things are clean, unpacked, and ready for you."
"I don't know how I can thank you. The visit, the cookies, this…" Nothing in the world terrified him more than hospitals. "Do you need to bring me back here for checkups?"
"Only if you aren't feeling well! The doctors will want to evaluate you one last time to make sure you're alright, but I can come with you for that. Until then, I want you to rest in your room as much as possible. No battles, parties, large crowds, high adrenaline activities, or anything that might excite you. Until I give you the all clear, your days are mostly going to consist of reading books and watching TV."
"That's fine. I'm doing that already. In fact, look." Cyrus held up one of the primers, feeling a tiny bit bashful. "Maybe you can help me learn some basic Kinzonian. I'm probably butchering your poor language."
"Oh my goodness. You…" Renata covered her mouth with a hand to stifle a laugh. "Yes, dear. I'll help you learn Kinzonian, if that's what you want to do. I'm more than willing to stay in the Lodge to keep you company. If you need your space, I'll just need you to check in with me three times a day: when you wake up, around lunch time, and just before you go to sleep. It's unlikely you'll suffer any reactions this late into the treatment, but you still could. If you feel sore, numb, nauseous, hot, cold, itchy, or anything out of the ordinary; find me immediately. I'll drive you to the ER."
It wasn't going to come to that, but he could promise to do that. "I'm grateful, Renata. I really am. I just don't know why you're willing to do this much for me. You barely know me." He didn't expect her to answer. "Is there anything I can do for you once I'm well again? Anything at all?"
Renata took a while to mull it over. She clearly hadn't expected anything beyond the boy's gratitude, but there was clearly something else she wanted. "You know how I've unofficially adopted some of you as my honorary grandchildren? I actually do have a granddaughter: Opal. She's about to turn ten and loves Rock Pokémon. Kalium City has a network of underground tunnels and they are a popular gathering place for Nosepasses. Once you have a clean bill of health from the doctors, how about we go spelunking together and catch one?"
"Yes! Of course!" In that moment, he probably would have agreed to help this woman catch a legendary Pokémon.
…
Renata had arrived at Kalium General Hospital at 2:00 in the afternoon. By 3:00, she signed Cyrus out of the hospital and took him to the parking garage. Even though the Kalium City Trainers Lodge was only a block away, she insisted on driving to minimize the amount of time he spent in the cold. He was checked in and ready to go to his room by 3:30.
Cyrus recognized the Beridze siblings in the den area. They were playing a game of checkers. As much as he wanted to thank Grigol for the Chansey egg, he remembered how loud Tamari could be and thought better of it. At least Renata remembered he was an introvert and packed his hoodie. It was just easier to pull his hood up and avoid making eye contact with people.
He could catch up once he felt better. There wasn't any rush.
Once upstairs, Cyrus decided to let Eevee out of his ball. As soon as he pushed the button, the Pokémon rushed over to him and pawed his legs excitedly. "Veeeeeee!" He bent down low enough to pet Eevee. The Pokémon bumped the top of his head against Cyrus's hand and licked him.
"Hey," he replied, scratching behind Eevee's left ear. "I missed you too." Eevee continued to paw Cyrus's legs because he wanted to be picked up. It didn't take much to convince the boy to oblige.
Although Renata told him how much work Cynthia put into getting the room ready for him, Cyrus was still impressed when he opened the door. Both beds were neatly made, his suitcase was placed on top of the dresser closest to the bay window, and all his clothes were neatly folded in the drawers. There was even some sort hand-drawn coupon on his pillow. Good for one brunch at Café Khismatullina, it said. As sweet a gesture as that was, Cyrus had no idea what that meant.
Although the room only had one desk, Cynthia decided to lay out Cyrus's things there: probably because she expected him to use it more. His books and notebooks were neatly organized on top of the desk, all in alphabetical order. The address book was at the very top, which didn't surprise him. She'd not only called his father, but had to copy it for Renata too. That was probably the last thing she did before spending the day with Isaac.
He opened the book, wanting to show Renata that he'd written down her contact info after the Plumbum City party, but something wasn't right. When Professor Myrtle mailed him her acceptance letter, she'd attached a copy of his robotics teacher's recommendation letter. Instead of reading what Dr. Plutarski had to say about him, Cyrus neatly folded the note and placed it in his address book. He'd meant to pull it out and read it as a pick-me-up on an especially bad day, but it was missing! Cynthia must have dropped and lost it!
Cyrus was ready to tear that whole desk apart to look for the note, but stopped when he saw the worried expression on his Eevee's face. "I'm fine," he insisted, but he wasn't. "I had a piece of paper in here. Can you try to sniff it out for me?" Eevee tried, but there was no luck. Whatever happened to it, it was gone.
By sunset, the Lodge Owner paid a troop of delivery boys to bring Hoennese takeout to the Lodge. Cyrus felt well enough to eat, but wasn't familiar enough with the cuisine to know what to order. He let Renata pick for him. When it was time to pick up the food, Renata said she'd bring it upstairs so they could eat in private. He took that time to change into his bedclothes since he had no intention of leaving the room until morning.
When she knocked, Cyrus opened the door for her. He just wished he could help her with the food, too. Each time he tried to put his Eevee down, the Pokémon dug his claws deeper into his sweatshirt and refused to budge. He finally had to fish the bag of treats out of Cynthia's bag and toss a treat halfway across the room to get Eevee to leave him alone. "This smells good. How much do I owe you for mine?"
Renata chuckled and started to set up the table. "It's free, dear. Lodge Owners are required to provide their guests at least two meals a day. The Kalium Lodge Owner doesn't know how to cook and always orders out. And if I'm being honest, I'm a bit surprised you weren't too familiar with Hoennese food. Isn't Hoenn just south of Sinnoh?"
"It is, but we don't eat a lot of their food. Most of their signature dishes are seafood and my dad's allergic to most shellfish." Sometimes Nichole would take Cyrus out to eat it when Alexander was away on business, but they never ate it in the house. "What's this dish called?"
"Champon," Renata informed him. "They fry vegetables, seafood, and Grumpig meat in lard, make a broth out of Grumpig and Combusken bones, and mix it all together with ramen noodles." She saw Cyrus reach for the cookie tin and gave him a quizzical look. "Oh? Having dessert first, are we?"
"No," he insisted. "It's just reassurance that I won't get sick." As he bit into the cookie, the old lady giggled.
Each time he tried to stick his chopsticks in the soup, Eevee playfully swatted at his wrist. If he was this frisky, it probably meant Cynthia didn't play with him enough. 'I bet she tried to give equal attention to all four of the Pokémon. Eevee needs more.' He somehow doubted Golbat wanted anything other than to be left alone.
Luckily, one of Eevee's toys was on the floor. Cyrus leaned over, trying his best not to aggravate his stitches, and tossed the ball across the room. Eevee pounced off his lap and tried to find the ball. He could take breaks with his meal long enough to throw the ball again, so long as it meant he could eat.
"Have you ever been to Hoenn, Cyrus?"
"Only a few times," he admitted. "My mother works for the Devon Corporation's Sinnoh branch. Sometimes they'll fly her out to their headquarters for work and she'll bring us along. I don't go a lot, but she took me to see the Mossdeep Space Center once."
He'd been mesmerized by it. The man who gave the tour was researching alien DNA found on meteorites and hypothesized that there were Pokémon in deep space. Cyrus had asked so many questions that the tour repeatedly came to a screeching halt. By the end of it, Nichole was so frustrated that she threatened to leave him there. Cyrus kind of wished she'd actually done it.
"When I told my grandfather about it, he was jealous that I got to go. He always wanted to work there, you see. Sometimes I wonder if I'll end up like him."
"Hm?" Renata still had noodles sticking out of her mouth. "What do you mean, dear?"
"He's a very intelligent man. He even went back to school a second time to get an astrophysics degree on top of his astronomy degree, just because Mossdeep recommended it. He worked two jobs to pay for it and was willing to interview for any open role they had: even entry level. I'm sure he looked like a perfect candidate on paper, but he couldn't convince anyone to interview him. Now all he does is teach high school physics to a town so small that you can't find it on a Sinnoh map.
"I'm a lot like him. I try my best, but sometimes it feels like it's never going to be enough. Everyone dreams, but only a few of us are actually capable of achieving them. And then everyone just tells you to try harder, that you just aren't trying hard enough and…" He shook his head, not wanting to finish the food. "What about you, Renata? Was there ever something you wanted to do, but couldn't accomplish?"
Renata swallowed her noodles and cleared her throat. "Me personally? No. All I wanted was to fall in love, get married, and have a lovely family. I'm very proud of my children and they've both grown up to be wonderful people. I couldn't ask for more. My husband wasn't so fortunate. Like your grandfather, Sterling fell short of his goal."
"Oh?" The only thing Cyrus thought his stomach could handle right now was the hot oolong tea. He felt bad about wasting the champon, but it was free. It wasn't like he paid for it. "What did he want to be?"
"A Gym Leader. He did everything right: specialized in a specific Pokémon type, participated in Elemental Specialist challenges, kept up his certification, and so on. Sterling and his Pokémon even kept our hometown safe during the riots. But each time an evaluation came up, he—"
A loud laugh in the hall made it impossible to hear what Renata said. By that point, Cyrus's tired mind wouldn't have been able to pay attention anyway. That was Cynthia's laugh. "Thanks again, Isaac!" she called out, reaching to unlock the door. "I'll see you tomorrow for—huh?"
Her arms were loaded down with bags, but she ended up dropping all of them in surprise. "Cyrus!? What are you doing here?!"