Disclaimer: ;; I want the Johto Leaders! But due to the Serious Copyright Infringement Act of 254 BC dash 9.neener, I cannot have them unless I pay mega-moolah. Instead, I can only say, 'I don't own them' and cry as I write fics on them.

To avoid any future confusion, Wren would be my rendition of Special's Hayate. ...I couldn't help it. ..

- s - t - a - r - t - s -

Status: Before Elitism
Part Zero-One-point-Two

Clair chewed idly on the tip of her pen.

A good trainer is always prepared, were always the first words out of an experienced journeyman's mouth. And Clair was experienced enough to know they were correct. But it wasn't just the list of items and to-dos in her hand that sat heavily on her mind.

Wren had sent a letter ahead; he was aiming for arriving at three this afternoon. And a brief passing with Karen yesterday revealed Casper was leaving around noon. It would be close, no doubt.

And then, she could adequately deal with the inevitable confrontation that'd been on the ropes since Karen had landed herself in Clair's way. The boulder in the path, the obstacle that had to be conquered.

It was the last day. In less than twenty-four hours, they'd be setting out. But at the same time, those remaining hours were the most lethal and Clair knew it. She didn't want to keep Falkner cooped up with her in the loaned room, but really, it was better safe than sorry. "Hey. Kid."

Falkner looked up, bewildered for a moment, from staring too hard and too long at his Pokégear. "Eh?"

"Break open your bags, okay? I wanna double-check everything before your dad comes."

Even doing such a mundane task, Clair harbored the pressure of it all. Her anxiety was enormous, and actively melding with the minor doubts over the journey ahead. But she prided herself with keeping it under her control. She was a Dragon Clan member, and ryuujin, her clansmen, did not buckle under stress of any sort.

Then again, when's the last time a ryuuji had come so close to sparking a continental incident? Because even if the parent left, the children still remained. And despite what Karen says, she was still a Matsuri through and through, and very much a believer in her One God.

The Dragon Clan couldn't afford making an enemy out of any of the Families.

- b - r - o - k - e - n -

There was no one quite like Whitney, Morty decided. Surrounded by the severe teachings and strictly traditional families living inside Ecruteak's walls, he'd never met anyone so...crazy.

Whitney liked getting dirty. She climbed trees, made mud-pies, jumped in leaf piles, liked rough-housing. And still acted like a girl. She shrieked at bugs, coddled her Cleffa, made the absurd suggestion of playing -house-. Gastly never cowered from anything in its life, but Morty found out that it had no love for the idea of a bow on its head...body...gaseous form.

Crazy was a nice change.

And the strange man he'd seen on his way to the bathroom yesterday morning, he'd learned, was her father. Just as crazy as Whitney. It made Morty wonder if everyone was crazy outside of Ecruteak and New Bark. He couldn't wait to find out.

Morty had to ask. As soon as breakfast was over, spent in the company of the five of them, he proposed.

"Can Whitney come with us, Karen? Can she, can she!"

It took a while for Karen to agree. She kept frowning, and looking between her father, Whitney, and even Regulus. Her reluctance to let the crazy girl join them was obvious, but a stern, "Karen," from his father set her straight, and she said, "Okay, fine. She can come with us if she wants to."

Whitney got even crazier after that.

And Morty learned something new about her craziness. The intensity of her hugs were directly connected to her level of happiness. Morty felt his back crack this time, and determined if she were able to feel any higher amount of happiness...she could break someone in half.

So if she was so dangerous, why was he blushing?

- b - r - o - k - e - n -

Seated on a bench down the road, Karen watched the two ten-year-olds from afar, a deep-creased frown cutting into her expression. It was a bad omen unfurling itself from around the Devil's finger, those two being together, as though they had known each other's company for years. "I don't like her, Uncle Casper. She's noisy, clingy, and not the right kind of influence Morty needs."

Beside her, Casper sighed. Karen glared at him, and dared to use the one piece of truth she felt violated for investing in. "Granna would agree, you know."

"My mother is not his mother, Karen," he countered hotly. "He's /my/ son, and I do not see a problem letting Morty have a little girlfriend to run around with."

"What about Aunt Fanta? Would she agree?"

Karen felt the pride of triumph swell in her breast, as Casper glared weakly her way. Fanta may have married into the Matsuri's, but she and Agatha seemed to be of one mind at times. Less so than Agatha's only daughter Mona, and Karen's own mother Moira. If Casper wanted anything from Fanta, it was like trying to contend with his own mother.

"Karen, I treat you like my own, but you're crossing the line." His tone was scolding, biting, and flaunting the authority he rarely relied on; it made Karen flinch. "This is Morty's journey, not your's. If he wants a wildchild as a friend and group-mate, that's his wish.

"Besides, I think she's rather charismatic."

You only say that because you know her father, Karen bit back in her mind. Morty is going to be Granna's successor to the Family, Uncle! He should be around respectful children, not little hellions.

She didn't argue. She didn't need to go a round with him, only to have him go back to Ecruteak and have her parents learn of her disrespect to her elder. An elder she loved like a second father, no less. Agatha would have both Karen and Gus' heads on a platter if she kept up her negativity.

It would only prove, in Agatha's mind, that anyone born of Gus' blood would forever be tainted with weakness. Funny how she never blamed Moira's side for Karen's rebellion or Gus' inability to live up to Agatha's expectations, but that was its own blessing in disguise. Better to hate only two-thirds the family than the entire unit.

"Now, go get Morty, would you?" Casper asked, and started heading toward the Pokécenter. "It's almost lunch."

- b - r - o - k - e - n -

Lunch was a candid affair. Mostly, it was Casper talking, Morty talking back, and Karen keeping rapt silence. Whitney found it odd. -They- were odd. Odd, but fun.

At least Morty was. Karen acted like she was apart of high-society as far as Whitney could tell. Standing beside her was like comparing oneself to a princess, or a spoiled rich kid. She walked like she owned the ground, she spoke like her words carried power, she looked as if the world disgusted her.

And Morty claimed she was only twelve.

She certainly ate like a normal person, and had no problems licking her fingers clean after making sure her uncle wasn't looking--

"Whitney, if you're not going to eat, I'm claiming your pla--"

"Sorry!" She turned in her chair with a resolved determination to keep her lunch safe from greedy fathers, but still wished she could keep talking to Morty at the same time.

In the corner of her eye though, she spotted an old woman at the food counter. There was nothing too stand-outish about her...but she was ordering up a storm. Enough for two, or even three, people! Was she eating it all by herself? Whitney gave the room a quick glance.

Considering there were only four more people in the room aside from her family and Morty's, and none had quite changed faces, it startled Whitney. An old woman, who wasn't even that tall, eating so much?

Imagine to her embarrassment when Whitney caught her profile. That was no old woman she saw, as a Chansey helped carry the girl's order out the door. Well, Whitney resolved, it was an easy misconception, right?

So much grey hair...

- b - r - o - k - e - n -

"You're acting weird, Clair."

Inwardly, she was grimacing. A few more hours, just a few more. Outwardly, she merely shrugged and plopped down on the sheet. The helpful Chansey was already skipping back toward the Pokécenter. "How?"

Falkner's scrunched his face cutely. "You're sneaking me around like I'm something you stole."

"What, you don't believe in cradle-robbing?" Did ten-year-olds know what that implied? Sure she meant it in a way less perverse than its true nature, but still.

If they did under normal circumstances, Clair praised whichever god was with her right then for Falkner's sheltered lifestyle, because he simply stared at her oddly. "I'm not a baby."

"Then you shouldn't be worried about tomorrow. Eat."

Match to Clair.

- b - r - o - k - e - n -

Regulus held Whitney back as the kids said farewell to Casper. Though it wasn't so much a farewell as it was an 'I'll see you when you stop off at home for your Gym match' kind of parting.

"Now Morty, listen to Karen, okay?" Spoken to assert the utmost his-word-was-law authority. "She has experience and is better equipped to handle dangerous situations."

"I know, Dad." Spoken to assert the utmost I-already-swore-I'd-do-that exasperation. "You don't have to tell me fifty hundred times."

"Yes I do." He chuckled and ruffled Morty's hair, which made the boy yelp and his headband fell over his eyes from the rupture of hair to hold it in place. "And you're going to be nice to Miss Whitney, right? No more tricks?"

Morty glanced behind him, at the girl, shyly it seemed, then looked back at his father and murmured something Regulus couldn't hear.

Karen scowled at Morty, for whatever he said.

"A lesson best learned young, bud." Casper caught Regulus' eyes, and the ex-Leader knew whatever Morty said, it was hilarious. "Never make women cry. Their tears can kill a man like no knife, poison, or freak accident ever could."

Now it made sense. Regulus smiled queerly.

Casper was gone shortly afterward, heading for Cherrygrove to catch his ride back to Ecruteak, and Regulus brought up the rear as the three pre-teens strolled back into New Bark's depths.

He'd have to leave soon too. Casper's departure seemed to hit the mark that he wouldn't be in the region to protect his little girl. Having found her a little friend-- and how they hit it off so beautifully-- eased his mind about the whole ordeal, but then again...

Kanto was so far away.

- b - r - o - k - e - n -

The scratching of metal-on-metal was, by far, an irritating noise. The way it rubbed across itself, sharp edges continuously cutting into the curved metallic surface... No matter how irritating others found it, Wren was dearly fond of the sound.

Nails-on-chalkboard his left foot.

Skarmory let off a terrible screech that might have echoed across the valley, and one didn't spend twenty-four years with a pokémon partner and not have a clue what it meant. "You see them?"

The climatic drop in altitude was enough of an answer for Wren, no doubt, and the decent size patch of pale green in the sea of pine and maple trees was an ample place to settle down, the two people waiting there for him not withstanding.

"Dad!"

Wren smiled arrogantly, and slid off Skarmory's back before the steel bird even had its legs on the ground. It might've been showing off, but at ten, his son still loved it when he did stuff that his mother had loud fits over. "Who else could make such a racket during their entrance?"

The Skarmory cawed to prove the point, folding its wings tight and holding its head high. But even with its pride, it still enjoyed when people pet its head. And Falkner did just that.

Clair kept her distance, and it wasn't due to the Skarmory. "Hey, sir."

"'Noon. You /can/ come closer y'know."

She shrugged, but kept her feet planted, and Wren didn't think much more as Falkner was tugging his sleeve insistently, holding his one, truly questionable possession.

"Did you get me this?" And he was holding the Pokégear up to eye-level.

Wren grinned, deviously. "You didn't show that to your mother, did you?"

Falkner made a sour face. "Obviously not. She's not going to like it."

"Which is why it's just my little gift, okay? Use it, don't use it, so long as you have it when you really need it. That's what matters, kay?"

It was a satisfying answer, Wren knew, because his son nodded and tucked the 'gear into his back pocket. It stuck out awkwardly. On the following note, Wren scooped Falkner up and put him astride Skarmory in one sudden motion. "Take a quick flight, okay? It's going to be a while before any of your pokémon can carry you."

Wren loved spoiling his son, but this was not without probable cause. And with Falkner out of earshot, he gave Clair a serious look. "What's bugging you?"

She frowned gravely. "Karen and Morty Matsuri."

Wren snorted, and stuffed his hands behind his head. The sprig in his mouth lifted and fell in a repeated pattern. "They know you're here?"

"Karen knows /I/ am, and she knows I'm going with someone on their journey. If she knew who it was, you'd be hearing about it by now on the news: Dark trainer obliterates New Bark Town."

That amused him, but he kept the chuckle to himself. "And the problem is...?"

Clair got frantic. "What if she asks us to join her and Morty? What if she finds out I'm travelling with a Kikyou-to-be? I'm dooming the Dragon Clan to war!"

Wren rolled his eyes. "You're exaggerating the situation. If she does, she does. If she asks, offer as little information as possible. I'm not expecting you to make the first stop in Violet anyway, and I doubt they would either. So, just remind him many trainers choose to use anonymity when battling, and he'll refer to his parents as Mom and Dad." Then, he smiled. "I'm sure Sigfried would appreciate your concern for the region. But gods will be gods, I'm afraid. If they want two boys from two rival sects to journey at the same time, that's their decision."

As he expected, Clair jaw dropped. "Lugia /hates/ Ho-oh. And Ho-oh does have much love for Lugia either. What makes you think this wasn't arranged to begin a war by the gods!"

"My dear," Wren began, as patronizing as possible, "the realm of the other-worldly is as mysterious as a box you can't manage to open. But why must this look like a god thing? Why can't it just be coincidence that two boys were born at the same point in time, whose families have no love for each other, and may or may not be competing for the same thing?"

She eyed him sceptically. "What are you, a radical to religion?"

That garnered a howl of laughter. "No ma'am. Nothing of the sort."

Past then, it was simply talk of plans of destination, travel distance per day, how far to the other side of Johto did they think they'd reach, and most importantly, according to Wren, what part of the year did they think they'd return to Violet City, until the Skarmory finally began to settle back to the ground. And Wren was there to catch his son before attempting to recreate Wren's own stunt.

This was nothing new.

"Alright," he announced, "I smuggled along a Kraygen's boysenberry shortcake from the pantry and I am not getting in trouble for nothing. Who's up for a slice?"

- b - r - o - k - e - n -

Whitney moved into their room once Regulus left and, much to Karen's relief, kept pretty quiet. She moved into the lower bunk where Uncle Casper had slept the nights before, and didn't move much since.

It wasn't odd for some kids to be homesick, starting as early as the first few hours on the road. Karen herself even had a few rough days before reaching Cherrygrove herself.

And it wasn't like she'd be alone, or totally estranged from her father. Like he said right before leaving, "Okay honey, I'm gonna go now. I need to get to Kanto and see about that new job, okay? You know if you have any problems, Uncle Milton's all ready to handle them. I'll call you in a couple days, okay? Love you, babe."

These city-in-the-country kids should be less dependant on their parents.

On the otherhand, this became the center of Morty's new pet-project: crack a smile in Whitney. Which involved lots of noise and Gastly pulling out all the stops in its comedy routine.

Karen hastily excused herself.

It was after dinnertime, though food was still being served until midnight, bless those Chancey's hearts. And that was as good enough a place to start.

She hadn't seen Clair all day, and in such a small town with a limited surrounding area, that was suspicious. Even in the days before, she'd bumped unexpectedly into the ryuuji, but Clair had slipped from the radar earlier, and Karen had to find her. Why?

...She didn't have a reason beyond needing company that didn't act like five year olds.

But upon entering the café, Karen's quest was surprisingly over. "/There/ you are!"

Clair visibly jumped, her tray quaking and almost spilling, and the boy beside her looked like a Stantler caught in the headlights. Karen just sighed in exasperation and stormed in, ignoring the bewildered Chansey serving the last of the rice and leveled Clair a annoyed glare. "You'd almost think you were avoiding me."

The girl frowned, and shook her head. "We probably keep missing each other, s'all."

"It's too small a town for that." Karen exhaled and began to calm down. Then she looked pointedly at the boy beside her. "He the kid you said you were travelling with?"

Clair nodded after too long a moment. "Yeah. Hey, get introduced while you're here."

Karen stared at Clair. She sounded off, like something was lodged in her throat. Was she getting sick? She did seem a little paler than usual... Nevermind. "Hello. My name's Karen."

The boy flushed and started looking around nervously, before bowing his head. "Falkner. Very nice to meet you."

Dim surprise crossed Karen's face at the well-mannered gesture.

"He's shy," Clair interjected. "Quiet type, Don't expect him to talk much."

Karen's eyebrow rose. Now wasn't that weird. But she didn't give it a second thought, because the vibes she was getting from the boy were more important. He was polite, traditionally polite, and he did seem rather quiet and shy...

The very opposite of Whitney.

And a very sly, very keen, very clever idea turned on the light in her head. Karen smiled. "So, Falkner. Clair tells me she's going with you. Excited?"

"A little."

There were some things that you didn't mess with when it came to a journey. It was the trainers taking it that made decisions about who joined them and who didn't. It followed an unspoken protocol that saddled alongside everyday etiquette. But it was easy to manipulate. "My little cousin's very excited; I was asked to go with him. He's a real handful, but not a bad kid. You'd probably like him. Maybe you'll even meet on the road."

"...Perhaps."

Karen smiled, just a little one, then caught Clair's vastly disapproving glare, before saying, "Can't wait for the day then. Have a good night."

Karen went to bed no less than proud that night. If Granna was good for something, it was the passing on of her blood gifts.

-e-n-d-i-n-g-

ryuuji dragon child
ryuujin dragon people

Normally, I wouldn't ever resort to 'fangirl' Japanese, but this was a desperate situation. Besides, I justify my course o' action with saying that's merely a remnant of the language the Dragon Clan used to use. It comes with a pretty myth too. :3