Springtime in Sinnoh brings with it the pleasant aroma of pollen, tinged with the winds of change. Trailing branches of the numerous willow trees lace into arms of bulbous cherry blossoms, the pink petals fluttering clumsily about the cloudless skies.

Beyond the smoke of the railroads, within the mountaintops of Sinnoh lies a sleepy town, nestled within a bed of fog. Far away from the cobble-streets of bustling rickshaw and traversing sandals, tucked away from the ports littered with unfamiliar flags, this area remains one of the few places in the country that time has left untouched.

A Mukkuru soars over the biggest house made of birch wood, its spotless walls adorned with crawling ivy. The stone gardens shudder from a great sigh behind the open windows. A young woman slumps back onto the cool tatami mats, the sunlight glistening off her golden hair, the book before her forgotten for the time being.

"Shirona!"

The woman scrambles to her ass. Outside her window, a stray cherry blossom detaches from its branch and dips into the silent pond.

"I'm studying! I've been studying all day!" she shouts back.

"No, you weren't!" The old woman flies into the room. It's too late for her granddaughter to duck, and the fan smacks into her forehead. "You've been daydreaming again, haven't you? I can see it in your face!"

Shirona flushes. "What's wrong with that, Grandma? I'm just taking a little break!"

"Uh-huh. If a little break means you snoring with your mouth open." Shirona immediately covers her mouth and to her horror, touches the dry trail of drool. The old woman puts her hands on her hips. "And why is Gaburias hiding under the table?"

Oh Arceus. Gaburias shyly raises a wing. Shirona shoves the hair from her face. "Why do you keep forcing me to do this, Grandma? I've memorized the dumb book from right to left, from cover to binding! I—"

"HUSH!" Trainer and Gaburias fall over from Grandma's megaphone of a voice. The Mukkuru yelp and scramble into the skies, leaving the dark cherry branch empty once more.

"Do you know why I made you memorize this, Shirona?" Grandma snaps.

Shirona rubs her poor ears. "Because you don't want me to forget my roots."

Grandma brings the fan down again. "You think it's just a chore, don't you, kid?"

"I'm not a kid anymore," she huffs, but Grandma's rolling into lecture-mode again.

"There's a lot of people that would give up everything just to hold these precious texts in their hands!"

And who would that be? Shirona scoffs. The nobodies from the other side of Tengan Bridge?

SMACK! "You're not being secretive in the least, squirt! Just because we come from a wealthy family, not to mention our prestige in the literary circles, doesn't mean that you can just take everything for granted!"

"I never said—"

"Shirona." Grandma's brow is low. Shirona shuts her mouth. The old lady glances out to the clear blue skies, her expression unreadable as wafts of sunlight bathe the hard lines of her face.

Once upon a time, Grandma was tall and beautiful… strong and untouchable in her colorful kimono. Those pictures on the mantle are just remnants of a wistful past.

"Shirona," Grandma says. "The world is changing around us. You've seen it with your own eyes, yes? Why, it seems like just yesterday that we still wore kimono to work! And bam! When you wake up, it's flashy suits and impractical hats!"

That doesn't pertain to me.

"Yes it does," Grandma replies to her unspoken thought. Shirona flushes again. "Ever since the new Emperor came into power—that arrogant Sakaki, right? - his new government's determined to erase everything bafuku-related. Forget tradition. It's all about the West and modernization.

"When I was your age, we looked up to the samurai. We read epics and ballads… we reenacted the Tales of Heike… And now that the social system has been abolished, it's almost unsightly to call yourself a samurai anymore. They're nobody now, Shirona, whereas in the past, we called them our heroes…

"Remember that literary event that I took you to, not even a week ago? We had to take the train because they were building new roads! All the greenery… all the parks, now just a platform of concrete!"

Shirona's head bobs up and down.

Grandma puckers her lips as if she'd just bitten into a sour lime. "Look, kid. Our country is changing just as fast as the seasons are. Sometimes, I don't think I even recognize who we are anymore. If we don't preserve our traditions… if we don't remember what our ancestors have done… then who will we be then? A face without a name."

The quiet song of birds laces around the willow trees. A breeze skips over the lotus pond, dividing waves into clean, crisp ripples. Thick branches shudder and shed their pink petals to the earth below.

Then Grandma taps Shirona with the fan. "Forget it," she huffs. "I'm just repeating myself to a brick wall."

"Grandma! I am listening! Gaburias! Stop laughing!" Shirona scowls at the snickering Pokemon. It tries to stop, fails badly, and erupts into a fit of chortles while holding its stomach. "I get it, Grandma! You told me this already!"

"Yes, I did. I even told you on the day before that. And the day before before that! And I'll still be telling you tomorrow!"

"Grandma!"

The old lady shrugs. "But it's true."

Then she snaps her fingers. "Oh, that's right! Remember how our stupid sink is still clogged? I've called the water company again, and—"

"We've called them so many times already!" Shirona blows a stray hair from her eyes. I'm sick of greeting them! "They always leave empty-handed! And they're just dirtying the tatami mats!"

"But they're sending in someone new today," Grandma says sharply, glaring at Shirona from the rims of the fan. The latter's cheeks burn, and she bites her lips. "Some whippersnapper from who-knows-where." She snorts. "But you have a point. If they still can't fix it, then I'll give them hell!"

Shirona covertly closes the book. "When are they going to get here?"

"Right now."

HUH?! "W-What? Why didn't you tell me—"

A faint knocking on the door cuts her words short. Grandma rubs her hands excitedly and shoots out of the room. Shirona hears a faint exchange of words, the door creaking open, the—

"GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE, KID!"

Shirona takes a deep, spring-scented breath. She wants to yell back that she's not a kid anymore, but she at least has to save face in front of a stranger.

"Let's go, Gaburias," she mutters, stroking the dragon's snout. Gaburias whimpers. "Hopefully they'll fail again and just leave us alone."

Grandma awaits her in the foyer. "There you are," she huffs as the young woman drags herself across the mats. "Introduce yourself."

What's the point? Shirona rolls her eyes… until she happens to catch his gaze.

Somewhere in the world, a branch shivers, and an armful of cherry blossoms scatter into the cloudless skies.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am." He's about the same age as her, and yet, he looks remarkably older. Wiser. "It's fine. I'll be gone as soon as the task is done." Dark shadows under his eyes. Does he even sleep? High cheekbones protruding through his pale, dusty skin. Does he even eat?

His clothes are old—she can tell—but crisp and well-cared for. Smells like metal and… old books? There's nothing striking about him—she'd been in much better company—but the air around him crackles with something that she can't explain.

They're so blue.

Grandma looks between the two whippersnappers. Then it all makes sense, and the old lady smirks into her fan. Gaburias sniffs the stranger and tilts its head.

"I apologize for the inconvenience." His voice is soft but loud enough to be heard. Is that a slight accent? But aren't the only people who speak that way aristocrats? They're much more presentable than him… He's so… dirty.

"Y-Yeah. Whatever." Shirona casually tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She misses Grandma's snorting into her fan. "So you're the one they sent?"

"Yes ma'am. I hear that there's an outstanding problem with your sink. May I come in?"

There's no name on his toolbox. Shirona's gaze flickers to his hands. You speak well for someone that looks like this. Bandages are so unappealing. You don't moisturize your hands? Has it ever crossed your mind to wash them? How unsightly—

Grandma clears her throat loudly. And that's why Shirona realizes that her problem is much more disruptive that she thought it was.

The man drops his gaze. "Ah… Well… Erm…" Something about that makes her chest flutter uneasily. Makes a bitter taste well to her tongue. "I apologize. Before this, I had a job at the local Lord's estate. He needed wood chopped, and I…" He fumbles for the dirty rag in his pockets. "I won't touch anything. I'll leave as soon as your sink is fixed."

"Yes, yes. Get going already." The young man nods at the frowning old lady. He crosses the doorway, removes his shoes, and follows Gaburias deeper into the clean and tidy house.

Then Grandma turns to her granddaughter with a face that explains everything.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Shirona grunts. Suddenly her socks seem to be the most interesting thing in the world. "That was rude of me. Just because he looks like he came from across the Bridge doesn't mean that he's a bad person."

Grandma's eyes narrow from behind her shades. She raises her fan, and Shirona instinctively winces, but the old woman merely brings it back to her side. "Sounds like it's your problem, kid. You deal with it."

"What…?"

The old woman scoffs. "I'll be in the kitchen drinking Moomoo milk. Lisyan's getting quite lonely. You do whatever you want until the sink is fixed."

Shirona frowns. Grandma turns and ambles into the kitchen, but not before Shirona saw that the old lady's lips had curved into a smirk, as if she knew something that Shirona didn't.

The ringing of metal fills the small bathroom. A plink! of wrench against nail. A tap-tap of hammer against screw. A Thump-thump of Gaburias's tail flopping on the floor.

When she finally steels her nerves, Shirona presses herself against the wall and cranes her neck around the bend.

The man is sitting in a circle of tools, newspapers, and dust. He's wholly focused on the task at hand and doesn't look up when she ventures further from her hiding place. Even Gaburias is absorbed in watching this strange human take everything apart before putting it back together again.

"Don't touch that," he says before Gaburias can do it. The land dragon frowns, and the man's expression softens. "You're Gaburias, right? Well, that drill is quite sharp. You might hurt yourself."

Shirona watches as he disassembles the pipes connecting the sink to the wall. He shines a light into the murky pits, scowls, and reaches for a metal stick to dislodge whatever gunk that's in the darkness.

And as he does that, Shirona allows her eyes to settle on his face. Under that thin of layer of wood dust and smoke, he looks otherwise content in his natural habitat. His fingers dance upon the tubes, the screws and bolts seemingly undoing themselves with a mere wave of a hand.

Speaking of which, is he not bothered by the filth? Who knows what crap he's touching. Who knows what crap he touched before coming here? And his clothes… I know you're trying to dress like the Westerners, but at least try to look like a gentleman. It's not that ha—

Something heavy presses against her forehead. Something sharp and cold. Shirona gasps. That's when their eyes meet again, and that fluttering feeling in her chest grows to an uncomfortable pulsation.

"My sole reason of coming here is to fix your sink," he says, flat and coarse as if his voice had been dragged along gravel. "I know you don't think well of me, but I can't leave without finding the root cause of your blockage. That would be a waste of both of our times, would it not?"

He wipes the perspiration on his forehead with his arm. "I've experience in the field for a long time now. However, if I do make a mistake, then the company will refund you the full amount."

When she finally swallows the lump in her throat, her words come rushing out before her brain can filter them.

"You won't, right?"

He gives her a strained smile… almost as if she'd insulted him.

"I'll try my best not to, ma'am. Either way, the stakes aren't as high on your part. At the end of the day, it's always the guilty party who will face repercussions."

KAM! The screwdriver is jabbed into the pipes with deliberate harshness. He looks up from his bandaged hands and gives her another hard smile. "I know you want to keep an eye on me, but might you so kindly step back a bit? This room is small enough as is with the three of us in here."

It's early evening when the man puts everything back into place. He keeps his dirty hands behind his back as Shirona sees him to the door.

Grandma's eyes flicker between the two whippersnappers before she speaks. "So did you fix it?"

"Regrettably not, Madam." He shifts his toolbox to his other hand.

Shirona clicks her teeth. "See, Grandma? I told you that it was a waste of—"

"The problem isn't of your sink, ma'am." The man's icy glare freezes her words. "Your faucet is fine. The only problem with that was the clump of hair I removed from the pipes." He turns to Grandma. "If may ask, when was your house built, Madam?"

Grandma raises an eyebrow. "Believe it or not, this dingy old house was built when the Capital moved to Kanto-kyo for the first time."

"Ah." Then his brows furrow. "I-I'm sorry? Do you mean the time when the bafuku was first established? After the civil war?"

Grandma's eyes widen. She exchanges a look with her blank-faced granddaughter. "Ohohoho!" the old lady laughs. "Exactly that. Sharp eye."

A faint flush blossoms on his ears. "O-Oh. I'm just… curious." His flat tone is a juxtaposition against the sunlight in his eyes. "I never would've thought that Kannagi Town had ties to the old Capital!"

"The Imperial Court, when it was still a thing mind you, once lent some of its books to us." Grandma winks, a crooked grin on her face. "We're known for our printing houses, and most of the townsfolk are artisans and collectors of old classics."

"Classics? You mean to say that you have actual, physical copies of such anthologies from times bygone?"

"Correct, kid! Now, can you believe that we actually have the original manuscript of Heike Monogatari, of the tale of Yoshitsune, right here in our printing houses?"

And Grandma keeps on flapping her lips. All Shirona hears is something about old books and obsolete traditions that were best kept in the yellowed pages of history.

But she can't tear her gaze away from the man. He's actually listening to Grandma's blabber! And from the way his back is slightly bent, the way his eyes shine with childish glee as he interjects questions into her boasting… as if they were old friends talking over tea…

What's wrong with my heart…?

"This is amazing!" The man's oil-stained hands are waving about the clean mountain air. "To think that such classics still lived! And not just a replication either, but the original editions as commissioned by the courts! Oh, just wait until I tell Grandfa—"

He suddenly gasps. His shoulders jerk back as if he'd just been slapped across the face. Shirona flinches as well without knowing why.

It's as if he'd just been caught red-handed.

The man quickly pulls his cap down so his hair obscures his eyes. "I apologize. That was… no, I have no excuses. That was unprofessional and unnecessary. Please accept my sincerest apologies."

Shirona's chest tightens when he bows to the 90° mark, his back as straight as a ruler. "The problem lies within the house's foundation," says he. "Your plumbing system is archaic and will only cause problems if you continue to use it. I'm surprised that it still worked up to this point though… one of your main lines was on the verge of bursting if you hadn't called the company in time."

He straightens. "I've applied a temporarily seal to the leak. Would you like me to show you? I have no intention of tricking you into paying more than you have to—"

Grandma shakes her head. "No need for that. I believe you… and my granddaughter does too. Right, kid?"

Shirona slowly looks up from her feet. "Yep." The hot flush in her face makes it difficult to even hear her own voice. "Yes, I believe you."

Some sort of relief passes through his face. He dabs the rag to his forehead. "Ah. Thank you. I'll take this message to the company right away. They should send a team tomorrow to fully resolve your issue."

"So you're not coming tomorrow?"

Shirona covers her mouth after realizing her mistake too late. Grandma buries her face into the fan as her shoulders shake violently. The man simply tilts his head, a frown set on his tight lips.

"No. I assume you would prefer to work with someone else, ma'am." He takes a slow step back. Then another until he's outside in the rustling garden.

Damn it, no! "Th-that's not… N-No, I… I-I-I…" What the hell's wrong with you? Speak up, woman!

"I feel like that wouldn't be efficient," Grandma says, and Shirona sighs gratefully. The old lady casts the younger woman a strange look. "Young man, you're more familiar with the problem. If we got someone new, then we'll be back at square one."

Grandma's lips twitch. "You can fix it, right?"

The man blinks. Their gazes happen to meet again before he tears his eyes to the ground.

"Y-Yes, Madam," he's muttering to the petal-splotched grass. "That's not a problem, but…"

"Then what's the issue here?" Grandma puts her hands on her hips. "Is it the money? Don't worry about it."

"N-No. T-The… Your g-grandda…" Blue eyes once again sweep over their wide amber counterpart. The man jams his cap down his face.

"It's fine." He breathes through his mouth before raising his head. There's a grimace on his pale lips. "I can come back tomorrow, if you wish. I'll bring the proper equipment by then." He opens his mouth to say something, only to frown and look away.

"Are you leaving right now?" Shirona says.

It takes him a while to react. "Oh. Were you talking to… I apologize." Then he straightens. "Yes, ma'am. I estimate that it'll take me at least six hours to dismantle everything. I will start in the morning hopefully finish before your dinnertime. You're free to resume your daily activates as if I wasn't here."

"Sounds good." Grandma grins. "Thank you for—"

"But it's dark." The words are spilling from Shirona's mouth now. "And the fog gets thicker at night. Even with all the lamps, visibility is still quite poor. A-And the mountain ledges are slippery because of all the condensation…"

The man is staring at her with those penetrating eyes, with his head tilted in that unnerving habit of his. She bites her lips and retreats behind her golden partition of hair.

"I won't shirk work," he says softly. "I promise that I'll be here tomorrow, and I'll try my best to fix the problem as soon as possible. I think I know how to maneuver Route 210, but I'll still leave early to make it in time."

That's not what I wanted to say! And for once, her inner thoughts remain safe in her brain. Unfortunately. Shirona clicks her teeth and scowls, though not necessarily at him.

"I will be going now." Another bow. Clink, clink rattles the tools in his toolbox. "Farewell, Madam." He tips his cap to Shirona. "And ma'am."

And just as the cherry blossoms begin to fall, he turns and walks out of the stone garden.

"Well?" Grandma jabs Shirona in the hip. Gaburias patters out from the kitchen with Lisyan at its side. The land dragon peers at its Trainer and nudges her leg with a gentle claw.

"Well? Go on!" Grandma gives the much needed smack of the fan. Shirona gasps. "Do it, girl! Before he leaves! Youth only comes once in a lifetime!"

Shirona scrambles out the door. Willow branches quiver at the reverberating smacks of woolen socks against the soft grass.

"Excuse me!"

The young man stops. He turns over his shoulder, revealing a glimpse of dim blue eyes.

The young woman clenches her fists. Here goes nothing! She squeezes her eyes shut, inhales a deep whiff of blossoms, and yells.

"My name is Shirona!"

Water ripples in the small stone pond. His reflection shimmers as he turns his body to face her.

"Shirona?" he says. "The white moon?"

From the house, Grandma sees this and smiles. Gaburias chuckles as its Trainer fumbles for her breath.

"Y-Yes!" How did you… I thought you people couldn't… didn't…

His eyes crinkle like two warm suns at sunrise. A shy laugh escapes his throat, the faint, tinkling sound mingling in with the scent of spring.

"I see. That's a wonderful name." A voice as mysterious as the changing seasons. He tips his cap as a springtime breeze sneaks through the distance between them. "Well then. It was nice to meet you, Shirona-sama. Do take care of yourself."

Cherry blossoms dance in the evening glow, dispersing in swirls around the two young people. She stares at his retreating back as it gets smaller and smaller until he disappears into the fiery red sun.