Somewhere, in a universe that's no longer anyone's business, there's a sea the size of a world which hasn't seen light in years. Only a few years. So few, in fact, that you could count them with the fingers of both hands, should you wish to, but you won't. No one will, because you can't know how long it's been and the people who do know have better futilities to entertain.
It doesn't matter anyway, because this sea will know only darkness for the rest of eternity, with only one reprieve coming not long from now.
There's a city, you see. A clump of impossibly tall, jagged prisms rising from the endless sea, like a crown of black quartz. It was once… not beautiful. Brutal, necessary, yet eye-catching at least. Each house and building, each construction upon that small island used to glow with all the colors of the rainbow, shifting constantly. Petroleum under sunlight, the iridescent part of a Pidove's wing, you get the idea. It was known by those who lived in it as the last and greatest settlement of humanity.
People still live in it –and will for a time, at least– but no longer sound proud when they describe the city as such. Last has become the operative word.
A light was stolen, then lost despite the thief's imprisonment. Now the people believe the extinction of all life in their world is imminent. In ten years, they'll believe it's not. Both beliefs are true, yet both contain a trace of falsehood.
These people and their city don't matter, in any case. They exist only to provide context, and will now exit the stage, as has the rest of humanity before them.
Under the sea, the corpse of all of human civilization lies spread out like pebbles at the bottom of a creek. Only rust, bone, cement and plastic remain, and that is from which life will rise again someday. It is young algae and old, indecomposable cartilage and bone marrow eroded into these things by the powerful underwater currents, cast into pulsing, bio-luminescent veins. They're not much different from plants or flesh at first, yet not entirely like either.
It will take them millions of years to evolve to be able to metastasize into these inorganic remains, bringing them to life like a parasite sending electric currents to previously dead nerves. By then, every human and Pokemon will have long died, but maybe that's for the better. It's a mercy for this new life to be free of humanity's judging.
It will be revolting, by human standards. The rust of animated metal will cut into these gelatin-like veins with each movement, causing immense pain and infection. There will be no light, no senses other than touch and taste and pressure. Even as this life evolves bodies of its own, they'll be nothing like those of living creatures on the surface. Either organs made of goop and thick, slimy skin like rubber dowsed with oil or sharp, rusty metal which can only hurt itself. The first will be small and have a long lifespan, which will be taken advantage of by the second, impossibly larger, always hurting and moaning and hungry like a machine the size of a city someone forgot to turn off. Many more life forms will come in between and they will make carrion of each other for all eternity, and though it falls on me to judge this horror, I'll abstain.
From your perspective, their existence may seem unpleasant. 'Why did my species have to perish only for that to replace us?' and the answer is: tough luck. The universe is the one who decides whose turn it is to inhabit it, and it doesn't judge. Existence need not be justified by worthiness or well being. No, there's something more here. Besides, they don't know any other way of being, and as such can't ever know suffering. They wouldn't understand the concept. I wouldn't mind being them. Happiness is unattainable in this world anyway, so maybe the next time around… And I would never be so cruel as to invite the comparison. Others might, and that's why humanity had to perish before this life could bubble up from their remains. Something about the most vulnerable having their time in this world protected. It's essential, the MOST essential. Come on, there's gotta be a better way to phrase this.
If you gave a human an understanding of what divinity is like, they would suddenly find their existence just as repulsing as that of this life I speak of. And even if you took it away, even if you erased the memory from the human's mind, it wouldn't put them at ease. An untouchable part of them knows now, and for the remainder of their life they'll walk the earth with an aching emptiness. This'll be really hard to replicate in sound.
This human may find true, perfect love, and they will feel empty. They may achieve all of their goals, surround themselves with the best of friends, and they will feel like something's missing. It's a splinter of hunger and want that can't be excised.
So let's keep these new life forms in ignorance, - No, no, there's something fucked up about this and I don't know how to fix it and keep hoping that whatever was here before us does the same for us. And let's hope none of the links in this chain ever intersect throughout space and time.
None of this matters. It's stupid, doesn't even make sense, ugh. What the fuck is this? Yet let's hope that-
What? I can't think of anything. There's something here, I can make it into something, I know, I just…
Let's hope-
Fuck, come on…
Let's hope what we leave behind won't-
Come onnnn, something, anything!
…
FUCK!
In some part of her brain, Hope is aware that she's eating. And it's good food too, seared meat and biscuits, one of her favorites! Which is what makes it such a shame that she's barely paying attention to the taste, just absentmindedly shoving bits into her mouth while looking at Hunter sitting across from her, listening to him and her dad talk.
"Oh, yeah?" snorts the man, wiping his lips with a paper towel and taking a big gulp of red wine mixed with sparkling water. "It's a real beauty, that one. I remember being there when your dad drove it to Brian's to get it nice and pretty 'fore you got it. What was that, your eighteenth birthday?"
Hunter shakes his head, having to swallow before answering. "Nope, that was Bell's. She sold that one, remember?"
"Oh? Ahh, yes, I remember now!" He leans back on his chair and lets out a laugh so wheezy it might be medically concerning. "She just sold it! I remember because of Norbert's face… Dear Mew above, he was furious. I wouldn't have had the stones to do it, to be honest."
"Eh."
Hunter shrugs in a way that seems to say 'who gives a shit', then averts his eyes for a moment to take a sip of soda. It's a good excuse.
Behind him, three Pokemon of varying sizes are sitting on the floor, enjoying their own meal with as much gusto as them. The first is a stout, dark-shelled Heracross called Rhadamanthys. Pale, slash-shaped scars run down the length of his massive horn, and the tip of his wings are patchy and yellow, betraying his age. The other two aren't any younger, though you wouldn't know that from looking at them. A pair of almost identical Ledian giggle like children as they throw kibbles at each other's mouths, trying to score a dunk. Zepar and Furfur, the twins.
Much like Mallard for Hope, the three were part of Hunter's team during their trainer journey almost ten years ago. The size –and strength– of his team compared to hers shows how much better he was at it than her. Though not quite 'Fourth badge' good, unfortunately.
Hunter strips a couple pieces of bone from the meat, throwing it over his shoulder without looking. Rhadamanthys catches the first in his mouth, effortlessly. The twins throw themselves at the other, pulling on either end and growling at each other.
"Keep it down you two," Hunter mutters. "Anyway, I've been paying for little fixes here and there to the car all summer," he says, bringing them back to the topic. "It's not a hundred percent up to where I want it, but it's preeetty close. The seat coverings are so clean and nice you could eat off of them."
"I wouldn't dare to do that either. I'm sure you're as scary as Norbert in that regard."
"Nah. First rule of a road trip is you gotta eat," says Hunter. "I don't have a problem with people snacking it up on my car, as long as they give me at least 10% of whatever they're having. I think it's a pretty reasonable tax. If you have a ten piece you only lose one, if you got a six instead then I'll ask for half, I'm not gonna take a whole nugget there, you know?"
"Hoh, I see…"
It's amazing neither of them can tell. Hope's chest is bursting with so much adrenaline-induced happiness it must be glowing through her skin, right? It must be echoing in the room like a song, disbelieving and frenetic. She can hardly stop smiling. That part at least her dad sees, and he shines her a smile of his own in between bites and bits of conversation, fully aware of what his daughter must be feeling.
"Hmm. Fuck, I didn't realize how much I missed meat and biscuits," Hunter sighs, already leaning forward for more. "This is so good."
Hope's father nods appreciatively. "I'd cook it as often as you want if you came visit more often."
"Dad, come on," Hope giggles. She can imagine part of why it took Hunter so long to come, but still.
"I'm just saying. See how happy my daughter is?" argues the man, pointing at her with a fork full of meat. "I thought I'd see you more often, now that you have the car and all."
For a second Hunter hangs his head, fork playing with a small bone on the edge of his plate, and smiles mockingly as though at himself. It's such a him gesture, Hope can't see it as anything else. She wishes she could get up and hug him again.
"With how bad traffic's gotten in the motorway, how do you know I didn't depart six months ago?"
Her dad doesn't think about it for more than a second. Raising his glass, he points his chin up at Hunter's face and says: "That'd explain the haircut, if you had to get it done with the help of wild Scyther."
"Dad!" Hope reprimands him, though she can't keep herself from laughing.
"Ouch."
"Oh she knows I'm joking," says her dad, winking to Hope, whose smile has suddenly disappeared. "Never known a more tomboyish girl than you. I bet you were really happy when you got to move out and get whatever haircut you wanted. For what's worth, I think it suits you perfect. You look happier."
It's surprising just how little Hunter flinches at that. It's there, faint enough that only Hope picks up on it. His fork stops playing with the meat in his plate and his smile goes taut for a second, but it's gone by the time he blinks.
"I'm glad it shows," Hunter says honestly. "And yeah, sorry for not visiting. I know it's an excuse, but I've been real busy."
Foolish though she'll realize it might be a second after she opens her mouth, Hope does just that and tries to interject by instinct alone.
"Dad, actually Hunter's-"
She would've stopped even if Hunter hadn't nudged her leg with the tip of his shoe, as the same realization dawns on her a second later that her dad doesn't know Hunter is a boy. She hasn't told him. And now she wishes she'd realized sooner, because Hunter's kick got her in the very tip of the fibula, gentle though it was.
"-'s ffffffuhm…" Hope inhales sharply, eyes watering a bit from pain. "S-sorry, swallowed a really spicy part."
"Told you to stop taking such big bites," he dad sighs. "Here, have some water."
As her dad leans forward with the big jug, Hope and Hunter exchange a quick glance and she would laugh at how apologetic he looks. She can read his thoughts on his face.
Fuck, sorry, sorry.
It's fine, she replies with a smile. Sorry too.
"Anywho, glad to have you back home, twister," says the man, leaning back into his chair. "Norbert told me you'd stay 'til the end of the month?"
"Until it's good and dead," Hunter says. "It's not much, but after tonight the work falls fully on Bell, so I can enjoy my visit to the fullest."
"Hurrah!" Hope adds, throwing her hands up with a big smile. "Come on Mallard, you too. Hurrah!"
The ball of feathers, who until then had been sleeping on the edge of the table, opens one eye to see what the commotion is about, then closes it again when there's no mortal danger to take care of. The Heracross ignores her as well, though at least the twins have the tact to start clapping, probably for their own enjoyment of making noise, but still.
"Oh I'm sure you will," says Hope's dad. "Make sure to support local businesses while you're here! Share some of that city wealth, will you?"
Hunter chuckles at that. "Oh don't worry, dad would kill me if I didn't. I'll make sure to spend as much as I can realistically afford, and then a little bit more for good measure."
"If only all city folk were like you…"
"Dad…" Hope whispers, feeling a twinge of irritation creep up her voice.
"We got a Bob's Your Uncle now!" he hurries to say, as if that excuses him. "And the mall's got a new arcade."
To Hunter's credit, he looks genuinely surprised at that, as though he doesn't see a dozen of that restaurant chain every day back in Goldenrod. "Huh, really?"
"Psh, how old do you think we are?" Hope snickers. "Only kids go to the arcade."
"Oh, I don't know about that," says Hunter. "I also saw that the downtown bocce alley got demolished, what's up with that? Don't tell me it's actually gone."
For just a second, the most horrified expression creeps up her father's face, as though the idea of the place disappearing causes him actual physical harm. What little remains of his mustache bristles, and he makes a disgruntled sound in his throat.
"Don't even joke about that," he says, then has to drink a big gulp to bring color back to his face. "I would first let Bellsprout tower be burn to the ground."
He's not exaggerating, Hope knows well. For some ungodly reason, bocce is exceedingly popular with the over fifty crowd all over Johto, though especially in smaller towns like Violet. It's not uncommon for men her dad's age to get together for lunch somewhere, then spend the rest of their evening drinking and playing. She somewhat remembers hearing that the game was brought to Johto by Paldean immigrants in the era of her grandparents, alongside the habit of drinking red wine mixed with sparkling water. She can't understand either. Wine is disgusting and bocce is boring as sin, but her dad would probably have a heart attack if he heard her say that.
"It was actually your dad's idea," the man explains, animated. "The old court was so old it was becoming a hazard, and it was too big a building for just me and the other council folk. So we decided to move it to the back of Howizer's instead."
Hunter's eyes widen a bit. "Oh shit, I haven't been there in ages. Now I'm craving pasta," he says, licking his lips, and Hope can't blame him. No one does pasta like the Howizers. "I remember there was some kinda big space behind the kitchen, right? That's where they put it?"
"It's perfect, right? Now we can eat and play all in the same place, and the Howizers get some extra money for their troubles. Honestly, I had a strong reaction when Norbert first suggested it, but…" He shrugs, smiling. "No hay mal que por bien no venga, eh?"
"Well… even a broken clock's right twice a day, I guess."
His reaction is hardly surprising. Hope figures it'd be easier to pull a teeth than a compliment toward his father out of Hunter. He reaches for his own glass of soda and downs half of it in a second, then sighs and continues before anyone can mention the man again.
"I'll make sure to drive by later when I'm hungry then. Anyway, what are they putting on the old court after they demolish it, then?"
"Ah, about that…"
Her father leans back on his chair, resting a hand on his wine belly, and sighs. All of a sudden he seems a couple years older.
"We're… still discussing it," he says. "I'm pushing to offer the lot to city investors, but you know how your dad and the rest are with that."
Again with this. Hope sighs, resting her cheek on her palm, but for some reason Hunter actually seems interested, nodding with that curious expression of his. There's no way it's not just politeness on his part, she knows him too well.
"Good on you for sticking with it," he says. "Violet could use some new faces."
An unpleasant noise growls in Hope's throat, but she manages to disguise it as a cough. Easy for you to say, she thinks. You don't live here anymore.
"That's what I'm saying!" her dad nods, enthusiastic. "Dunno why everyone's got their panties in a twist about collaborating with city folk, but someone's gotta do it. Violet can't survive if you kids keep leaving and only us old farts are left."
Hunter chuckles and shrugs apologetically, then adds. "Dad's stubborn and the others tend to follow his lead. I don't know what to tell you."
"Bah. That's 'cause they got their heads too far up their own asses," her dad says, uncharacteristically candid. The wine's probably getting to him. "Think they're better than everyone outside Violet. Norbert especially loves butting heads with the League, but Mew knows we'd be much better off if he actually tried working with them once in a while." He snorts derisively, shaking his head. "You can't spend your whole life seeing the same faces and talking 'bout the same things. You're right, some fresh air would definitely do this place well."
"Dad…" Hope massages her left temple with her fingers, brows furrowed. "You're rambling again. Hunter doesn't care about this."
"Oh I wouldn't say that," Hunter smiles, seemingly unbothered. "He's got a point, really."
Hope makes a non-committal sound and lowers her gaze to her plate, swallowing down a reply like an unpleasant sip of wine. It's not like she agrees with Norbert and everyone else. She just doesn't see what'd be so great about having one or two more international food chains around. Dad loves to talk about 'job opportunities' and 'incentivizing young people to move here' but she doesn't buy it. There are better ways to accomplish those things, in her opinion.
But she's not gonna go make a fuss over it.
"Ah, haha! Sorry, you're right, poffin. I got a little carried away," her dad laughs, embarrassed. "I can't imagine you miss hearing about all this sordid business."
Hunter laughs nervously. "It's… nostalgic, at the very least. And seriously, it's no worry."
Yet even being given the opportunity to drop the subject, her dad unconsciously digs his heels in and keeps going, as he's prone to do. Hope is this close to taking a sip of the wine herself at this point.
"I get why it doesn't sound like an interesting topic. Not many kids your age dream of doing urban planning, do they?" he observes. "Well, it's not like we did either back then. None of us even thought of going to college; we'd just graduate high school and start working wherever able bodies were needed. That's how I met Norbert," he turns to tell Hunter, who nods although he's heard this story a dozen times before. "I guess you could say our futures were much more nebulous than yours."
"Well, you had it easier in some regards," says Hunter, his smile coming a bit forced. "But I get what you mean. Dad didn't look that upset when I told him I wasn't going to college."
"As well he shouldn't! Leave college for the geniuses who can make good use of it, like Bell," the man says. "For the rest of us, there's plenty of work to go around, as long as you know where to look."
At this point, Hope's about ready to grab the hem of the tablecloth and throw it over her head until her dad stops talking. Not that this is a rare occurrence. She just didn't want him to get like this with Hunter around.
Her friend, however, doesn't argue or drop his polite expression, despite how much he must want to, deep down.
"I'm… sure a lot of young people would love to work at city council once one of you retires," he says, in about as neutral a tone as he can manage. "So I don't think you need to worry there."
"Mhm…"
He gives a slow nod, the wind of conversation momentarily knocked out of him, and leans back on his chair as he takes a sip of wine. He keeps nodding like he's trying to shake dust off some old thought inside his head, then adds.
"Mew hear you. Hope doesn't want to hear a word about replacing me, no matter how I bring the idea, and neither did Guille back then. I guess that's what it means to be a father."
"-!"
The mention of that name very literally stabs into Hope's temple, making her wince as though beset by a sudden migraine. It's more staggering than painful. As subtly as she can with her vision suddenly swimming, she presses a couple fingers against the spot and squints at Hunter, realizing he's the source of it the moment she looks into his eyes.
It's… been a while since she's felt someone else's emotion amplified like this, assuming today's nightmare wasn't that. She's not that type of psychic, an… empath, they were called? From what she remembers of the doctor's words when she was little, she has about a two percent compatibility with that field. Same with most of the other psychic disciplines. Her highest score was a fifteen percent in telepathy, and only when connecting psychically with Pokemon she had close bonds with. Outside of that, it was a five or eight percent at best. Still, sometimes when hers and someone else's emotions are heightened, something like this has a chance of happening. And considering she hasn't seen Hunter in over a year, it's no wonder…
Still… dad, what the hell?
"It's… something to talk about later, I think," says Hope, the best she can manage. Luckily, her dad doesn't seem to notice the strain in her voice. "Anyway, want me to help you do the dishes?"
"Ah, nono, there's no need!" the man smiles, completely oblivious. "I wouldn't want to interrupt your time together. Just help me bring them to the sink and I'll take care of it. Then, I might just take a nap if Norbert's gonna be busy all day, hahaha!"
Hope smiles genuinely, despite herself. "Yeah, a nap sounds pretty good right now."
Her dad gets up with a handful of plates and she follows. And as she passes by Hunter's seat, the two of them raise their hands at the exact same time, intending to pat each other's shoulders. They stop halfway, blink at each other, then realize what a pair of predictable idiots they are and laugh
It takes Hunter all of two seconds to return to himself, whistling as he and his Pokemon help pick up the plates and vases, like nothing's wrong.
A few minutes later, the two of them are lounging around Hope's room, the door closed behind them and the whirr of the ceiling fan muffling their words to the outside, which is good as they wouldn't want to interrupt her dad's siesta. Mallard lies atop the desk chair, snuggling himself into a ball. Hunter's Pokemon prefer the outside, so they're making Tiberius company under the soft afternoon sun.
Hunter almost immediately sprawls himself over Hope's bed, the back of his head swallowed by her Ditto-shaped pillow. He lets out a long, exhausted sigh and closes his eyes, like he's going to fall asleep. It goes on for long enough that Hope starts to believe it, but then an even more pronounced exhalation leaves the boy's lips, and he opens his eyes slightly to look at her.
"Gotta give you guys one thing, you got the right idea about napping," he says. "Nothing beats a good sleep after a big meal."
Hope rolls her eyes. "You're talking like a foreigner. Don't tell me you stopped taking siestas now that you live in Goldenrod?"
"It's not really in my control, just…"
He doesn't finish the sentence, a sudden yawn overtaking him, making him open his mouth so wide a whole Pidgey could probably fly in there. When he's done, it's like all of his strength has left alongside the yawn.
"Long trip?" asks Hope, lips curling into an understanding smile.
"Would've gone faster if I'd been behind the wheel. Exhausting either way, though."
He turns on his side facing her, cheek resting on his palm, propped up by his elbow. Eyes closed, he sways back and forth as though on the verge of consciousness. Hope figures if the trip didn't prime him for a good nap, then all the meat and carbs certainly must have.
"Hey, come on, stay awake a little longer," she scolds him with a smile. "You didn't tell me anything about this Unown thing yet. Just invited yourself to lunch."
Eyelids parting open slightly, Hunter makes a tired sound somewhere in his throat. "Does it need an explanation? We're going to the ruins of Alph and maybe seeing an Unown."
"Okay, yeah but… why, though?" she asks, a bit exasperated. "Is it Bell's…?"
A weak nod from Hunter confirms that. "The League tasked her with investigating the ruins, and see if she can learn something about the Unown themselves. She didn't elaborate much… confidential info and all that. But it's not hard to imagine she or the League must have a lead, to bother with this all of a sudden."
She perks up in surprise a little. Learn… more about the Unown? She thought they already knew all that was needed about them: they're weird little guys. Sure, there's rumors that they possess odd powers, but those are just rumors, and besides no Unown has ever tried messing with a human, as far as she knows.
As though sensing her thoughts, Hunter adds. "Bell did tell me one thing, though. There's been info filtering in from Hoenn that Unown might've played a part in the Aqua-Magma incident a while back."
"W-what?"
"No direct involvement, as far as the League knows," Hunter hurries to add. "Bell was very vague, which I'm sure means her superiors were even more, but apparently Hoenn's Champion… agh, how did she put it? 'He learned something about the Unown in the process of finding a way of stop Groudon and Kyogre's rampage'. No idea what that means, though."
This is not the kind of information Hope expected to learn when she woke up this morning. It takes her a second to process what she's just heard.
"So the Indigo League… doesn't want to fall behind Hoenn, if those rumors are true," she reasons, the words coming out slowly. "Whatever their Champion knows, they want to know too."
A somewhat dour smile comes to Hunter's lips. "You can't tell me that surprises you."
"It doesn't." Not after seeing her dad and Hunter's butt heads with League officials for years. "It's just…"
How to put it? Something about invading the ruins of Alph in an attempt to unearth the Unown's secrets… it doesn't sit right with Hope. She doubts there are even secrets, or that the Unown consider them so. In her eyes, they're not cryptic or full of arcane knowledge, they're just… pointedly unlike humans and Pokemon, which makes them stand out for their weirdness. She… kind of likes that. Likes that there's no logical explanation for them. Trying to find one, at least to Hope, is like trying to burn one of the last remnants of true magic in the world.
She doesn't say it out loud. Wouldn't, not in front of Hunter, and much less in front of Bell, who most definitely deserves a win after all she's been through, but… deep down, she hopes she fails this time.
Instead of saying that, Hope shrugs and changes the subject.
"So… we're accompanying Bell, then?"
"Yep! We'll be her bodyguards."
Hope raises an eyebrow. "I… don't think either of us fit the bill much."
"Oh for sure, we're both nothing compared to Bell's Alakazam," Hunter admits. "She can fend for herself just fine, it's just an excuse to go along with her and maybe see some weird shit."
Fair enough, Hope thinks. She's surprised the League would allow a couple of civilians to stay so close to this kind of investigation, but she figures Norbert must've pulled some strings. She's certainly not against it. Mew knows she plans to spend every second possible glued to Hunter, and… it would also be nice to keep Bell company. It's been… one hell of a couple years.
"…How's…" Hope swallows, giving the sentence a second more to cook in her mind. "…Bell doing? Lately, I mean."
Hunter stares at her lazily, eyes half-lidded, in a way that may suggest the question flew over his head, but Hope knows he's just thinking of how to answer. After a few seconds of silence, he shrugs.
"I try to drag her out of the apartment as much as I can. Sometimes I even succeed," he says with a playful smile. "I dragged her to an 8-bit DJ party last week. But other than that… she's just as obsessed with work as last time you asked."
"… Right…"
"It's better than the alternative," Hunter says, as though there was a need to justify his sister. "At least she's doing something."
"I know. I'm trying too," she says, glancing at the pile of Pokegear parts on her desk. "…Hope she's managing well. I wonder if this year passed as slowly for her as it did for me."
"Mhm. Whether time crawls or flies by, it can be hell either way depending on the person," Hunter mutters absentmindedly. "She'd appreciate your concern, though."
"Haha… well, we're both in the same boat here," she shrugs. "Hope I can give her a hug later. I didn't get my chance earlier… was too excited hugging you."
"I don't think anyone can blame you. I am very huggable."
His voice loses a bit of strength with each word, and at the end he opens his maw wide and lets out a truly biblical yawn. Hope can tell there's a bit of theatrics to it. She catches the hint and allows him to change the subject. "Mhm… for real though, I'm dog-fucken'-tired. Wanna nap together for a bit?"
Hope's eyes widen, excited. "R-really?"
"It's not like we have much to do 'til the afternoon," he says. "And better to face tonight nice and rested."
She thinks about it for a moment. "…Yeah, I guess you're right…"
Still, it's with slow, tentative steps that Hope approaches her own bed and lays beside Hunter, sharing the same pillow. It's tight enough that she has to slide one arm under him, and he has to rest his head underneath her chin. It's a bit uncomfortable in the most comfortable way possible, and Hope has to keep it from showing on her face like a ray of sunlight.
It's not what other people would think, if they saw them like this. Assumptions had been made in the past, especially by their respective parents, but it's not like that. She… loves Hunter, just not romantically. More like in a much stronger… yet still very platonic way. She doesn't like to explain it, as she doesn't think there are any words for it.
She would kill for him. And right now, she would cuddle and nap with him too. It's that simple.
"Hmm…" Hunter grunts against her neck, making her ticklish. "Remember when we used to sleep out in the front yard with Tiberius?"
Hope laughs. "I still do sometimes. Only with clothes I'm planning to throw in the washer later, though. Nothing beats napping outside under the sun."
"Mhm… maybe tomorrow we could do that."
"Yeah…"
They lay there in comfortable silence, drinking in the 2 p.m. sunlight filtering in from the window near the ceiling, for long enough that one might think the other was asleep. Hope is the first to break the silence, making Hunter open his eyes slightly.
"Hey, by the way. Sorry… about my dad. And me almost outing you with my big dumb mouth."
The sound and feeling of laughter against her neck makes the hairs on her body stand on end.
"Come on, he's not hurting anyone. I'm sure your dad just wants people to talk to," he says. "He seems… lonely, honestly."
"Hmph. He's got way more friends than I do."
"Yeah, and he's been talking to them every day for thirty years," Hunter points out. "It wouldn't hurt to humor him for a while. He's family."
"Look who's talking."
"Hah… yeah, fair." Hunter sighs, then adds. "And don't worry about the other thing. It just caught me off guard. Sorry for kicking you, haha…"
Hope's eyes narrow, half lidded. She's glad Hunter can't see her face. "I just didn't want to… you know. Dad was…"
"Hey, it's fine," he hurries to cut her off. "He doesn't know, so it's not like it bothers me, I promise."
"Hm…" It's hard to tell whether he's telling the truth or not, but she decides to believe him nonetheless. "I'm sure… I mean, if dad knew he wouldn't… take it badly or anything. He was super supportive when I came out too. Not that I'm uh… trying to pressure you or anything, just-"
"I know," Hunter says, a smile in his voice. "I know, he's a good guy. It's just today's already packed as is."
"Oh, for sure." She yawns, rubbing her cheek against the top of Hunter's head. "So um… I know you told me about Bell and your dad, but did you tell anyone else? So I know whether to…"
She leaves the question hanging, and Hunter nods weakly against her neck. "Mhm. Bebe knows, and so does mom now. I'm sure some of dad's friends in the council know too, he's not the type to be embarrassed by something like that"
Yeah, Hope can't see it either. She remembers how aloof and unbothered Hunter sounded in their online conversations when he mentioned he was going to tell Norbert that he was trans. In comparison, he was a nervous wreck only a week before, when he was deliberating the same with Bell. Both had gone well, thankfully. But the more she thought about it… yeah, Norbert just wasn't the type to care or make a fuss about his children being cis or trans. He'd treat them the same regardless… for better or for worse.
"Bebe was super cool with it. I mean… obviously," Hunter keeps going, and Hope can only nod. For Bebe, gender is a stage and she's every single actor in the play. "Mom… I think she took it well? She was confused, mostly." He shrugs. "Haven't talked to her much since."
Hope doesn't answer, just listens to him talk though she could say something. She doesn't find it odd that Hunter would choose to come to her house before stopping for even a second at his own. He already lives with Bell, and as for his parents… Hope doesn't know the full story, but it's not hard to imagine. Neither Norbert nor Mrs. Myers seem the type to engender much love from their children.
Maybe your mom would be less confused if she'd gotten to know you more before all this, are the words that pop up in Hope's head, and the ones she forcefully suppresses back to the bottom, internally shaking her head at herself. That is so rude, what the hell. She would never say that to Hunter. She's sure there's a perfectly good reason for him to keep his distance.
"Well, for my part I think you look much brighter and happier," she says instead, honestly. "It great to see."
"Awwww…"
Arms wrap around her waist and Hunter comes to rest halfway atop her body, which might be uncomfortable if he didn't weigh less than her weighted blanket… probably.
"I'm okay with you using me as a pillow," sighs Hope. "But when it's time to wake up, I'm throwing you off me whether you're asleep or awake."
"Oof. And right after that super nice thing you said," Hunter pouts. "Fine… did you have something to do before tonight's event?"
Hope thinks back to what her plan was before Hunter showed up out of nowhere. It feels like days ago, even though less than an hour has passed.
"I was gonna swing by the record store to talk to Bebe."
"Oh yeah, that's an obvious one. I was going to suggest that regardless."
"No, I mean… yes, to say hi too, but I also wanted to…" Hope frowns. Right, she hasn't told him. "Right, so…"
Sleepy though she is, Hope does her best to gather some mental energy and explains to Hunter all the stuff with Bruce and Peggy and her odd talk with Norbert. It's not a long story, but she can't help but yawn every few words. Lunch is definitely getting to her.
Hunter stays silent, and though she can't see his expression, his next words come out with a tinge of worry to them, mixed with some disdain surely aimed at his father.
"…Huh. I have no idea about Bruce or who he is, but that Peggy girl can't be too bad if my dad thinks she's a bad influence." Hope can tell there's a sour smile on his lips. "What a fucking thing to say about a sixteen year old though, huh?"
"Yeah, well…" Hope thinks for a moment on how to not comment regarding Norbert. "She looked sixteen, but she might be older, or younger, I didn't get much from her. Did give her my number though."
"That's good, at least." There's a small pause. "Do you think she'd use it if… needed?"
Hope thinks about it for a second, lips pursing. "I… don't know. She looked a bit…"
"Like a troubled kid?"
"Like you when you were young, yeah," she smiles. "Only… even less kept-together, if that's even possible. Or-that's just the impression I got."
"Yikes. Yeah, I can see why you'd be worried. And why you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from butting in," Hunter says, almost laughing.
"Don't act like you wouldn't have done the same."
"I probably would've been even more pushy, if anything," he admits. "Troubled kids need all the support they can get."
At that, he closes his eyes and lets out a yawn that probably has its own sound frequency, then smushes his cheek against her chest and lets out that last sigh that indicates he's done not trying to fall asleep.
"It's a plan then," he whispers, barely coherent. "We say hi to Bebe… ask about Bruce… then something something Unown road trip. Everything goes swimmingly… and then we get some ice cream on the way back."
Hope giggles, her chest making Hunter's head rise up and down erratically.
"How can I say no to a plan like that?"
But she's pretty sure her friend is asleep before she finishes the sentence.
Hours later, when the two friends head downstairs, past her dad snoring on the couch and exit onto the front yard with the soft afternoon sun bathing their backs, they're surprised by the reception they get. Tiberius, the family's old Growlithe, snarls at them and weakly digs at the already uprooted spot of garden beneath him, strangely desperate.
Even Rhadamanthys and the twin Ledian are surprised by his reaction, staring between their owner and the old Pokemon as though asking what they should do. Hope, however, does as she does best and calms the situation without resolving it, in Tiberius' eyes at least. She gives him a good few pets and apologizes to Hunter, claiming he's getting weird and irritable in his old age. In her defense, it's a believable excuse. And it's not long before Tiberius gives up, the warm feeling from Hope's petting combining with his deteriorating memory to make him forget what he'd been so desperately trying to get across to her.
It's a behavior that feels like a muddled memory to Tiberius. It comes from Hope's friend, the one he hasn't seen in ages; he smells something on him, a scent he picked up on the wind once, almost two years ago. He tried to get it across to Hope back then too, and for weeks after, but he must have forgotten at some point, his aging brain letting the memory filter through it like sand between one's fingers.
Only this spot beneath him remains, and the vague memory of north. An aching emptiness, a face and a scent he is very sad to have forgotten.
Hope never managed to pick up on it. Not then, not now, which frustrates Tiberius on a deep level, as the girl has always understood him better than any other human has. Something about her…
Regardless, it's not surprising. It's not a conclusion Tiberius would be able to arrive to, but it's there nonetheless. Despite Hope's latent psychic powers, despite how in tune she might be with Mallard and Tiberius, there's little to be done.
All the advantages in the world couldn't force someone to entertain a truth they don't want to consider.
On another, unrelated note, there is a girl somewhere in Violet, and she is dripping blooming red flowers onto the white of her bathroom sink. They form cloudy spirals as they melt and disappear down the drain.
There will be no happy ending for this girl, whether in this story or in any other. She knows this, as she's been the one to determine as such.
It's only right, for someone who is held in such contempt by fate itself.
It takes them less than ten minutes to reach the record store in her bicycle, Hope making it fly like the wind despite carrying Hunter behind her. It's a good bike. It took her mom all across Paldea and onto the southern shore, before she migrated to Johto. And every time Hope rides it, she feels like neither heaven nor hell could stop her.
"There it is!" Hope yells over the rush of wind in her ears.
"Man… it's really been a while. What the hell happened to this place?"
The building's kinda haphazardly thrown there at the bottom of a tall apartment building which cuts the street into a violent V. It's a new neighborhood, probably the newest in all of Violet. A good few blocks of apartment complexes and stout, flat houses were built around the brand new school and park, as though growing from their roots, and were offered at much lower than market price to a select young demographic. Future-proofing, her dad had called it. She has to admit, it seems to be going swimmingly. From what she's heard from Bebe, who's moved here a few months ago, the urban project breathed new life into a decrepit and almost abandoned corner of town.
Now, if only so many families hadn't moved here too, she remembers Bebe adding, because she always had to complain about something. Fuckin' loud brats…
Hope's eyes roll. Oh whatever, you big baby. At least they get asphalt streets here. That's a benefit not even being part of city council has granted her family, what with their house being in the farthest edge of town. Only dirt paths for them. She vividly remembers gawking in amazement the first time she visited Hunter's home in town proper, and saw that they didn't keep their windows closed at night in fear of waking up with a layer of dust over everything.
She can't help but chuckle at the memory.
"What's so funny?" asks Hunter. "Making fun of me for acting like a foreigner?"
"Nah. Just… happy, I guess," she shrugs. "Let's say hi to Bebe!"
"Mhm."
She stops the bike in front of the rack stuck to the front wall of the building, though she doesn't bother chaining it up before heading inside. She parts the door excitedly, a big smile on her face, and is immediately greeted by a familiar sight, and a not so familiar rock song blaring through the speakers, all crackly and scratchy. It sounds just like Bebe's type.
A mess of pew-like shelves full of CDs and vinyl spread out from the entrance, surrounded by walls full of even more of the things, giving the shop a somewhat claustrophobic feel. At the other extreme of the room, the counter waits for her like an altar at the end of a church.
"Bebe! Hii!"
The figure past the rows of shelves looks up from the magazine she's reading. Hope can't see it, but she hears the smile in her voice as she makes her way through, having to squeeze in a bit.
"Good afternoon, Skitty. Come on in."
Emerging out the other side, Hope stumbles forward and stares, wordless, for a short moment. As usual, Bebe looks like a completely different person from the last time she's seen her, the only constant being the square-ish shape of her face and the deep, rich black of her eyes.
She's blonde today, hair short like a handful of straw stuck to her forehead, and long and straight on the back of her head, almost reaching her broad shoulders. A dark tracksuit jacket is draped over her shoulders like a cape, and the muscle shirt she's wearing has such a deep neck it would show a lot more than the line of her cleavage if it weren't for the thick mesh shirt she's wearing underneath. It takes Hope a second to pry her eyes away and up, onto her friend's smirk and raised eyebrow.
"…Where do you get the money for all your clothes?" is all she can think to ask in that moment.
A rich laugh leaves Bebe's lips. "I'm a resourceful girl. And it's very nice to see you too." She glances to the side, to the Pokemon resting atop the counter. "Say hi, Walpurgis."
The scruffy Vulpix stands on his four tiny paws and purrs at her, though not before he gives his neck a good long lick, putting a stray lock of fur in place. Hope 'awww's, and immediately makes for the little bugger, grabbing his tiny face in between her hands and gently rubbing his neck and forehead. The purr grows stronger, feeling like an engine in her hands, and the heat emanating from his fur isn't far from the comparison either.
"Ohhh, he's so big now! I remember he was half this size last time!"
"And had half as many tails, too."
It's true, the two white-ish tails she remembers have split into four, taking on a deeper, almost mauve red, much closer to the rest of the Pokemon's fur.
"He's old enough to help 'round the store now, so I guess that Pokemon food's starting to pay for itself by now," Bebe says, a hint of tiredness to her voice.
"Aww, he's such a good boy…" So mesmerized Hope is by the small purring creature she's petting that she momentarily forgets why she's here, and with whom. "O-oh, right!" she yelps suddenly, pulling away from the Vulpix. She gets a disappointed growl. "Bebe, I brought Hunter with me! He's back from Goldenrod!"
A knife-sharp eyebrow raises on the girl's face. "Is he, now?"
"Yeah! Hunter, s-!"
She turns around, and the smile drops from her face, replaced with a look of confusion.
"Huh?"
No one's there. Now that she thinks back on it, she doesn't remember hearing Hunter open the door too. She stares, blinking, only the song blaring out the speakers breaking the silence.
"Where on Earth…?"
Behind her, Bebe swats at the air disinterestedly, sighing. "Oh, don't worry, he just went through the back door. I figure he's looking to scare me."
"What?" Hope asks flatly, looking over her shoulder. "What d'you-?"
The objectively least dignified scream is heard somewhere behind Bebe, and a second later Hunter comes crashing backwards through the door. He stumbles back a step, then misses the other. And as he hits the back of the counter and crashes onto the floor like a sack of potatoes, something floats through the open door onto the store. A flaming, ethereal ball of light the size of a fist, its hue a deep purple. A will o' wisp.
Still resting her face on her cheek, Bebe looks down at the frazzled Hunter and absentmindedly raises her other hand, pressing a button on a small white remote.
The music stops. Hope is a bit relieved amidst the confusion, always having found that song a bit too much of a bummer. Hunter stays collapsed on the floor, unsure of what happened. Bebe just smiles knowingly at the latter.
"Oh darling, we have got to stop meeting like this."
Hunter blinks, then laughs with a bit of effort and pushes himself up with his elbows. Their friend offers him a hand before Hope can rush behind the counter as well and help him up.
"Agh…" Hunter's face scrunches up in pain as he's lifted to his feet. "D-did you know the back door was open?" he mutters, still a bit whoozy.
The only response he gets is a pair of hands on his shoulders, followed by a quick kiss on each cheek from Bebe. It doesn't illuminate him, but it certainly seems to bring him back to reality with a jolt, cheeks reddening.
"Was that your Vulpix?" asks Hope. She's still staring at the flaming sphere when it finally goes out with a poof.
"Told you I had this little one pulling his weight," says Bebe, still holding onto a dazed Hunter. "We don't have an alarm system, but a few will o' wisps floating through the store do the trick well enough."
The little bugger sways his tails from one side to the other proudly, giving his paw a small lick.
Hunter scoffs. "Not even Pokemon are safe from the marketplace of labor nowadays," he says, not so subtly looking down to hide his blush.
"They've never been," Bebe sighs. "Oh, but enough about that."
Letting go of a still reeling Hunter, she leans back against the counter and raises the white remote once more, pointing it toward the speakers behind her with an inviting smile on her face.
"Let's put something nice on before we get down to business," she says. "Choice of music's on the house."
There's no cold spell or ice that needs to be melted before the three of them are right back at it, bickering over what music they should put on like they've been hanging out every day for the past week. Options are plenty, yet tastes are pretty spread out amidst them.
Bebe offers some Paldean cuarteto, more specifically 'Amor clasificado', with a raise of the eyebrow that makes Hope feel like she's been seen through to the core, and it's really hard to refuse. In the end she does, though, raising the point that they won't get anything done if the two of them start dancing it up halfway through the song, which is a definite possibility. Nodding to her point, Bebe raises a CD with Arjona's new single instead. That certainly piques her interest, her mouth forming a tiny O, but Hunter doesn't seem as excited.
"Isn't that the guy that makes like… horny love ballads for women over forty?" he purses his lips.
Hope can only look away meekly, trying to stop the embarrassment from showing on her face.
"That's what he's known for, yeah, but here's a lot more to him. His songs are cheesy as hell, but they got interesting storylines," Bebe explains. "For example, this new single is about a taxi driver that picks up a rich woman with a face like a Gothitelle, crying her eyes out on the side of the road. On the way home, she tells him her husband cheated on her with a younger, less fortunate girl. The driver offers his help if she's looking for vengeance and… well-"
A scoff leaves Hunter's lips. "That does not disprove my point in any way."
"Oh, there's more. After the deed is done, the woman asks the man to drive her back to the bar where she saw him kissing the girl, to confront him. And when they get there… it turns out said girl is the driver's wife."
"Ohhh," Hope clasps a hand over her mouth, interested. "That's spicy." Though she doesn't miss the way Hunter smiles and rolls his eyes, knowingly. "T-though I think I'll listen to that one later," she says, giving Bebe a look of 'You better save that CD for me'. "Let's listen to something else."
This amount of time wasted is common for them every time Hope visits the store. Which she supposes tracks, considering their backgrounds.
She's known her only for a slightly shorter time than Hunter, Hope's mother having been a first-wave Paldean immigrant, and Bebe's a second-wave's. Violet being a lot closer-knit at the time, it was no wonder the two of them gravitated toward each other and became good friends, their daughters following soon after. She and Bebe even went to the same school, and thanks to Guille's advice they also signed up for the same musical theater club, forming part of it from elementary to high school.
It's with a warm sense of nostalgia that she remembers those times. Lively cuarteto music blaring through the walls of her house, the two of them singing and dancing in her room, whether they had the excuse of practicing for an upcoming play or not, and their mothers amiably chatting downstairs. Sometimes Hunter was there, though not often, as he wasn't much of a dancer. Sometimes her brother was, replacing the blaring of her CD player with the sounds of his own guitar playing, guiding them through the song they had to practice.
Hope had always been more shy up in the stage, reason why she eventually quit, but Bebe couldn't have been more different. Her performances, the solo ones especially, were always… interesting. Once during their last year of high-school, after Bebe's memorable final play, Hunter turned to her and said:
If she can do to girls what she did to that performance, then her future girlfriend's gonna be lucky as hell.
Which is funny, as Bebe came out to her as ace less than a week after.
"…nd you could stand to lower your standards up from that Goldenrodian high Ponyta of yours," Bebe says with a smile, and Hope realizes she hasn't been listening for a few seconds. "I know it's the official city of bangers, but-"
"Oh there's a lot of filth in between the gems, trust me," Hunter says. "Half the songs I hear when I go out are younger guys whose balls haven't dropped yet singing shit like 'Buy me, sell me, juice me, squeeze me but don't tease me baby'."
A musical laugh leaves Bebe. "Hey, that's not bad. Are those real lyrics from a song?"
"Nah, I thought of it just now. Came straight outta the dome piece," says Hunter, tapping his forehead.
In the end, they settle for Intoxicados' 'Nunca quise' in honor of Hunter's return, and as Bebe presses play and the lyrics start rolling through the store, they can finally get down to business.
"Right, so… about Bruce," says Hope, brows knitting. "Did your boss say anything?"
Nunca quise tanto a nadie como vos,
(I never loved someone as much as you)
por eso es que empiezo a dudar
(that's why I'm starting to doubt)
"Vaya forma de tratar a los amigos la señora esta," Bebe tuts her chin at Hope, leaning back on her chair, resting the back of her head on her palms. "First day Hunter's back and all you two care about is my coworker. Makes a girl feel like she's being used."
There's not a hint of seriousness in her voice, but Hope still purses her lips into an apologetic smile. "We're free all day tomorrow! Right, Hunter?"
"Pfft. Besides, you're not even free today anyway," adds Hunter. "I work in retail too now, and if the person I loved the most came to me at the end of my Friday shift, like... bleeding out, asking me to drive them to the hospital, I'd tell them not to let the pearly gates hit them on the way up."
si seremos hermanos que nos separaron,
(if maybe we're siblings separated at birth)
y nosotros, sin saberlo, nos volvimos a encontrar.
(who unknowingly got back together)
Looking like she spaced out of the sentence halfway, Bebe shrugs and lets out a 'Mhm' of confirmation, and it's only then that Hope notices the bags under her eyes. She seems to be having trouble keeping them open.
"Fine. I'll forgive you this time, but you better come by tomorrow night with a whole bottle crate of beer. Got a few friends coming so you two can step out of your social suck circle for once."
"And into your social fuck circle instead?" Hunter asks.
"If that's what you're into," Bebe sighs, her chest deflating with exhaustion. "Anyway… about your boy Bruce. I actually got some weird news for you."
Tu sangre es roja, la mía también.
(Your blood is red, so is mine)
Si no me equivoco, algo tendremos que ver.
(if I'm not mistaken, there's something there)
Not good. Weird is never a good word, but Hope asks anyway. "Weird… good?"
"Nope. I tried calling my boss earlier during lunch break, but he sounded pretty agitated. Almost didn't get to ask him about Bruce, for a second I seriously thought he was gonna yell and hang up on me," she says, a sour look on her face. "But when I got a couple words in, he got real quiet all of a sudden. He must've crunched some numbers in his head, because then he asked me if I knew where someone was."
"W-who?" asks Hope, hanging onto every word.
"…His daughter. Some girl named Annie. She was supposed to come home after school for lunch. Actually, he told me, he didn't even see her leave that morning. He just figured she'd gotten an early start and left before saying goodbye." There's a short, tense silence. "So uh… yeah."
The song starts to pick up through the speakers, and for once Hope can't stand the vibe it gives, wishing they could've picked something less cheery for this. She tries to swallow the sudden clump of nervousness in her throat before talking, but Hunter is ahead of her on this one, thankfully.
Somos indios latinos con guitarra eléctrica
(We're latin natives with electric guitars)
y comunicados a través de internet.
(communicating through the internet)
"How old's the girl?"
Bebe shrugs. "High school, probably? I remember him mentioning that at some point."
He and Hope exchange a quick look. "…About Peggy's age, then," she says.
"Um… you don't think…?"
Bebe shakes her head like she's considered it already, and it eases Hope's worry a little bit.
Para odiar hay que querer.
(To hate you must love)
Para destruir hay que hacer.
(To destroy you must create)
"Not likely, I think. If I barely know our boss, then Bruce sure as hell doesn't. At most we must've seen him twice, and one of those times was during our job interview," says Bebe. "He's got a few of these stores all over Johto, can't manage all of them himself. So I doubt Bruce even knows where he lives, or that he has a daughter."
There's another pause. Bebe regaining her breath, one hand pressing against her temple. She looks very tired.
"He's also… I mean, I know it counts for jack-shit, but he doesn't seem the type," she says. "He's a punk and a loser bassist, but in a good way."
Estoy orgulloso de quererte romper
(I'm proud of wanting to smash)
la cabeza contra la pared, si.
(your head through the fucking wall, yeah)
Hope nods, wanting to believe it. She knows Bebe's quite good at reading people, esoteric as those kinda skills may be. Besides, Bruce asked her to come by for payment today; he must've expected to be back home by then. That he isn't…
"…Weird," she finally agrees, unsure of what else to say.
Almost unconsciously, Hunter rests his palm on her shoulder reassuringly, frowning and somewhat lost in thought otherwise. Worry creeps up his face.
"Maybe Peggy and your boss' daughter go to school together?" he offers, then shrugs. "I don't know…"
"I've never seen the girl. Either of them," says Bebe. "Bruce only mentioned her a couple of times."
Y por todas esas cosas que tenemos en común
(And because of everything we got in common)
hace tiempo te marchaste de acá.
(you long since left this place)
At least Hope can comment on this, eager to have a chance to talk and distract herself. "She's um, kinda short, cute chubby face… looked like she'd been wearing that oversized black hoodie for a while. I can't imagine she gets much sleep because um…"
"Big bags under her eyes?" offers Hunter.
"Yeah."
His lips grow a little pale from pursing into a smile she can't quite place. "Sounds like your usual breed of weird girl. Can't say I don't relate."
Te cansaste de mi, yo me cansé de vos
(You got tired of me, I got tired of you)
Pero cuando nos miramos, sabemos que no es verdad.
(But when our eyes meet, we know that's not true)
"Haha, yeah actually…" Hope swallows. "Sorry if this is rude, but she looks kinda like you did at that age. Now that I think back on it, she even had One Ok Rock's logo plastered on her hoodie!"
"What the hell?" Hunter's eyes go wide. "Did someone clone me without my knowl-?"
"Wait, wait."
Porque tanto te quise y tanto te quiero,
(Because I loved you then, and I love you now)
Siempre una marca tuya llevará mi cor-
(An imprint of you will always be in my h-)
Bebe hits the button on the remote, stopping the song dead. It makes Hope feel like a Magikarp pulled out of the water. Some kind of spark must light up behind her eyes, because suddenly she's leaning forward on her chair, brow furrowed and her previous exhaustion burned off her face. She opens her mouth, closes it, then finally gets the words out.
"I've seen that hoodie," she mutters. "I mean, obviously, but… Hope, you said the hoodie was super big on her, like… sleeves going past her hands kinda big? Did she have super messy black hair? Looked kind of dweeby?"
"I… don't know if I picked up on that last thing."
Bebe swats at the air, shaking her head. "That's because you two are the same. But… I've seen this girl." She pauses, thinking on it. "Yeah, for sure must be her. I see her all the fucking time here at my store."
"What?" the two of them blurt out in unison.
"Perá, entonces…" Hope thinks it over for a second. "How don't you know she's…?"
"She's-I mean…" A realization seems to dawn on Bebe. "She's… never been around when Bruce was. Now that I think back on it, she usually comes by during the morning shift."
A thought comes to Hope. "Right when she should be in school, huh?"
"What does she do when she comes here?" asks Hunter. "I doubt she's buying a record every time."
Bebe juts her chin back behind them, toward the corner. "We have a few players and sets of headphones for people to give the records a listen. I'm supposed to discourage people who come over just to do that, but…" She shrugs. "They don't pay me enough for that, and I'm not gonna tell a little girl to leave just 'cause she doesn't have money."
"So she just comes to listen to music?" asks Hope.
"Yeah, mostly instrumental, though not what you're probably thinking of. Shrilly, chaotic, super fast… If she listens to anything with lyrics it's usually distorted to hell and back, think modern Johtonian breakcore and stuff like that. Though I've seen her look through some orchestral vinyl too."
Hope knows some of those words, and she's gonna leave it at that for now. The girl's strange taste in music isn't the main topic, in any case.
"Then… she's skipping school to come over here? That's…"
"Not that weird," Hunter cuts her off. "Honestly, that's the most comprehensible thing about this clusterfuck so far. She comes over at that time because her dad isn't here, so he can't catch her doing it."
Hope purses her lip, but doesn't press on that comment. Instead, she remembers what Norbert said, or more specifically what he didn't outright say about Peggy, and what he thought of her. It only makes her worry for the poor girl more.
"In any case, I'd really rather this not get uglier than it needs to be," Bebe says after a moment of silence. "I… told my boss what I told you, but he was freaking out pretty bad, understandably. I don't think he was saying it to me, sounded like he was arguing with his wife behind him, but I heard him say that if their daughter doesn't come home by tonight, he was gonna get the police involved."
Both Hope and Hunter's faces go pale at that, similar yet subtly different looks of consternation crossing them. They know what that means, ultimately. There's only one station in town, and few enough cops that everyone knows them by name. The most they'd be able to do was look around, maybe ask the neighbors some questions if neither Bruce nor this girl show up. In the end…
"…City council might get involved, so my dad's gonna make a mess of it most likely." Hunter throws his hands behind his head, sighing. "So much for a peaceful homecoming."
It's Hope's turn to give his shoulder a gentle pat, giving him an empathic smile. "Do you think we should…?"
Hunter looks behind him, past the window into the slowly setting sun bathing the store in its orange light. What few lines his face has seem to exacerbate.
"We should be heading back anyway; Bell said she wanted to head for the ruins as soon as the sun went down," he says. "So yeah… I think it'd be better if we talk with dad before the police has to."
Bebe chuckles a little, though it's not mean, more supportive in a 'I know how it is' kinda way.
"Ready to come home, big boy?" she asks with a voice like a reassuring pat in the back.
Lips curling up into a smile, Hunter gives her a friendly middle finger, showing off the Hive Badge tattoo on the back of his wrist.
"There's worse things, like fucking dying, I guess," he says. "At least Rhadamanthys and the twins will be happy."