Chapter Forty-Five: Dirt
The first sensation Gray recalled from the next day was the headache.
There were accompanying visual stimuli, but he couldn't really decipher what was real and what was just his imagination. The only thing truly unambiguous was the headache.
As solid forms began to take shape, Gray identified nearby objects that enabled him to piece together that he was in Jack's bed. In a reversal of roles from Gray's sleepover after his argument with his father, Jack had apparently spent the night sleeping on blankets spread on the floor. The owner of the house currently sat at his dining table while quietly reading a book.
Gray's throbbing temple caused him to emit a moan as he grabbed his forehead. It was only at that point that Jack realized Gray had woken up. He swiftly dropped his book and ran to his trainer's side.
"Gray? Are you there?" he asked with concern.
Gray nodded.
"Good, good! And how do you feel?"
"... Fine," Gray managed to utter with difficulty. His strength grew with each word, however. "What happened? I don't remember anything clearly after I got tackled."
"Don't worry about the details. Just try to rest." The scene that night wasn't pleasant. Jack had little interest in reliving it, and recounting it to Gray wasn't going to make him feel any better, either.
"Will you at least tell me why am I here?"
"The potion dealer said someone needed to look after you overnight. We didn't want to disturb both your dad and especially Ann, who was already pretty intoxicated herself. I live alone and have the space, so it made sense."
"Or because no one else volunteered for the job."
Jack ignored Gray's suspicion. "You're lucky it wasn't worse. Everyone was really worried there for a bit. The potion dealer stayed here overnight, too. He only left about an hour ago. He said you'd be fine, but umm... he also said to never drink that much again."
"And Kai? Is he alright?"
"He's bruised up pretty badly, but otherwise he'll be okay. Don't worry, he already said he isn't going to press charges."
"How… how much damage do you think I did? To my reputation, I mean."
"Well, it's hard to say… We'll have to wait and see, but if you want my opini-."
"- Jack, get to the point."
Jack sighed. "... People didn't take it well. Especially Popuri." His eyes then widened as Gray struggled to get out of bed. "What are you doing?"
"I have to see her. The longer I wait, the harder it's going to be to make it up."
"I uhh… that might not be the best idea at the moment. You should probably go to Kai first, considering he's the person you assaulted." Jack's voice then took on a more frantic intonation. "But before even that, you still need to rest!"
"I'm not much for resting." After removing the sheets, Gray looked at the clothes he was wearing. Maybe the alcohol clouded his memory, but he was fairly certain he wasn't wearing that outfit the night before. In fact, he didn't even own the clothes. He was in sweatpants and a t-shirt with the name of some university on it. "... What am I wearing?" Gray exhaled.
"Well, you kinda puked on your old clothes. So we changed you into something of mine that fit."
"You undressed me?"
Jack's face flushed with embarrassment. "The potion shop dealer mainly did it. I just helped. Be like me and try not to dwell on it too much."
After moving into a sitting position on the side of the bed, Gray scanned the room for his pocket watch. It was likely still in his old outfit. "What time is it, anyways?"
"A bit past noon."
Gray gulped. Popuri had likely been waiting for him all morning. Perhaps she was beginning to lose hope that he even cared enough to apologize.
Jack might have been acting less self-righteous, but he was still as irresolute as ever when dealing with others. He could say nothing as Gray slid off the bed and fumbled around until he found his pair of shoes nearby. At this point, Jack ran over to his dining table and reached into a box sitting underneath. He pulled out a water bottle.
"If you refuse to stay, will you at least take this? You're supposed to stay hydrated."
Gray took the bottle without a reply and hastily ran out the door. He briefly reopened the door a moment later to say, "Thanks for looking after me," before shutting it behind him again.
Gray knew his appearance was slovenly, but there wasn't time to waste. He opened the bottle and took the opportunity to splash some of the water on his face, but otherwise he marched directly towards the florist. He nearly collapsed out of exhaustion halfway there and was forced to take a short break. After taking a seat on the grass and having a few sips of water, he gathered the strength to finish the journey. He may have messed up in a big way, but he also felt far more motivated and full of purpose than he had the day before.
Lillia jumped with surprise as Gray flung the door to her florist shop open.
"Gray! I... umm... what a surprise!"
Hearing Gray's name, Popuri cautiously opened the door to her room and stuck her head out. Her eyes were red from crying, but Gray hoped he could fix that.
"Yes..." Gray began unsteadily, unsure which woman he should look at. He decided on Lillia. "I was hoping I could speak with Popuri... if that's okay?"
Lillia looked nervously to her daughter, who nodded slowly.
"Alright then," the elder woman said with relief. "I… you know, it's already lunchtime and I could use a break. Popuri, do you want me to pick up anything fro-."
"- I'm good, Mom."
"Right. I'll just…" Lillia trailed off as she headed out the door.
"Are you sure you're supposed to be here? You look awful," Popuri said bluntly with a sigh as she took a seat on the counter. Her voice was strong, but it was evident from the lethargy in her movements that she had slept poorly. She had not put much effort into getting her hair in order, either, so she did not exactly have the authority to call out someone else's appearance.
"I'm fine."
"Then I hope you've already apologized to Kai."
Even though Popuri was hardly an imposing figure, Gray's fear of miscommunication resulted in him fumbling over every word of his justification. "Not yet. You're more important to me- the most important… What you saw last night, that wasn't me… No, I-."
"Not you?" Popuri said a bit hotly. "I thought alcohol brings out people's true nature."
Gray shook his head. Popuri was out of her depth on the subject. "That's… not how it works."
"Well, what you did to Kai… that was... who says you won't do it again? Who says it won't be me next time?"
"It won't happen again. Even if I was drunk, I would never hurt you... You believe me, right?"
"... I don't know."
"So you don't trust me? Does that mean... we're broken up?" Gray asked, his voice cracking in the process.
"I don't know."
After setting down his water bottle, Gray clasped his hands together and moved closer. "I won't drink again, I promise! N-not ever, if that's what it takes!"
Popuri shook her head glumly. "Do you really think that's the root of the problem? Everyone else there was drunk, and they didn't go slugging anyone."
"Then what is the problem? … What is wrong with me?" he pleaded as he took a step back and held his head. His temple was throbbing again. "If I'm really that bad, why did you agree to date me in the first place?"
Popuri's face was stitched with guilt, unable to even return Gray's gaze. "I thought I understood you. People would say I was just infatuated, but I was so sure there was more. I guess they were right in the end. I know what I really think now. I'm scared of you, Gray."
"But why did you fall in love with me? Surely those traits are still true."
"I…" Popuri started, but she was unable to finish the sentence.
Her hesitation pierced Gray's heart. It was as Ann had warned- Popuri truly failed to possess an actual reason to love him. Gray slumped back onto a table at the center of the room. Only his trust in Popuri had kept him alight so long.
"You don't know why?" he asked in a voice almost as low as a whisper.
"It's… hard to put into words."
"That's an excuse. Was it just because you thought I was good looking?"
"I… I don't know… maybe…"
"Maybe it was because I was more athletic than Jeff or Rick? Or because I have that 'mysterious charm'?"
Popuri's face, which had been wrinkled in confusion, relaxed with sudden realization. She said sternly, "Gray, you're being a baby."
"Just let me know this. You were infatuated with me at first. Fine. But was there no real love that followed? Was it truly all just blind passion? Even if you are scared of me now, is it possible you still love me?"
"Please leave, Gray," she finally managed to exhale.
Gray stood and moved closer to entreat, "You don't understand, I want to make thi-."
He stopped when Popuri flinched and leaned away. He looked in Popuri's eyes and knew that she was telling the truth. He saw fear in them.
Gray took a step back and shook his head. "I'm so sorry… excuse me," he muttered as he grabbed his bottle and slunk back outside. He ducked his head and walked with rapid step, avoiding eye contact with anyone until he was out of town.
Needing more liquid, Gray opened the water bottle and chugged all that remained. Once finished, he crumpled the bottle and cast it to the ground. He then viciously kicked it away for good measure. If he was a monster that could only be loved by an aberration of a capricious spirit, he might as well act like one. He noticed from the corner of his eye that Harris had been approaching, probably on a delivery run, but the mailman turned around upon seeing Gray's tantrum.
The world finally found freedom from the monster when he retreated to the seclusion of his bedroom, whisking through the shop without saying a word to his father. He took a seat on his bed.
Gray would never do anything to harm Popuri, but could he really blame her for fearing him? She had seen firsthand what he was capable of. Of course, that was between two drunks in a bar that weren't friends to begin with, but how far of a step was it to something worse?
Between nursing his headache and his injured feelings, Gray noticed something out of place on his nightstand. It was the photo in the winner's circle from Jack's race; someone must have picked it up from the mail on Gray's behalf.
Everyone in the picture looked so happy and content, Gray included. And it was true. Just two days prior, Gray was at the peak of his life. He had success, he had a girlfriend, he even had a path to a future as a trainer… how had all of that collapsed so quickly? How could anyone manage to do that? Was he the most pathetic person to ever be born?
Another photo sat on his nightstand, this one being more familiar. Gray picked up the framed photograph and gazed at it. A younger Gray was mounted in his saddle, accompanied by Ann. The young boy riding off to the glory of a bright future, supported and admired. But displaying that image didn't preserve the dream. It was all lies, all fantasy. Gray hadn't matured at all since then. And it was his own fault.
Gray swung the frame violently against his nightstand, causing glass to shatter and the frame to warp, before then flinging it across the floor. The frame's tragic voyage came to an end after it cartwheeled into the wall.
Finding his bed too comfortable, Gray fell against the wall and slowly slid down until he reached the floor. He peered at the twisted frame beside him. With a sudden attack of regret, he hastily lunged for it, swept away any remaining pieces of glass, and hugged it to his chest. The photo had suffered some scratches and bending, but it was still intact.
Why couldn't he let go?
Before he could stop himself, Gray began to sob. No amount of effort could prevent it this time. He had not cried so hard since the night his mother passed.
Gray's cries of agony were loud enough that he did not hear his father hesitantly open the door to his room. Gray was not sure how long Doug had already stood there before he looked up after noticing the man's shadow in the doorway.
At first, Doug studied the scene in horror. Just as Gray thought his father was about to chastise him and command him to get his act together, Doug's face softened. He approached Gray and took a seat at his side. In an even more inexplicable act, Doug put an arm around his son.
"Why… why don't you hate me?" the son asked, unable to process this show of compassion.
"You're my son. No good father could ever hate his son. No matter what happens… when you're ready, you're always welcome here in my arms."
Gray was still adjusting to his father speaking so affectionately; Doug was, too, it seemed, as he stuttered his way through each word. Still, Gray believed him. He wrapped his arms around his father and continued to weep into his shoulder.
