"How long is this supposed to take?"

Aaron was sitting on a stool in a dusty room with a colorful array of paintings and artistic mediums all over the place. Not one wall was left bare, or one table left unused. A ray of light shined onto Aaron's face from an open window, from which one would be able to see the city of Lilycove in all its glory, or feel the ocean breeze. The former champion watched as specks of dust danced in his line of sight, wondering just how old this museum really was. When his eyes drifted to the right he could spot another light stood behind the boy, serving as a light source for the painting he was so immersed in. Aaron tried glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, but quickly looked away from the sight of the boy's intense stare.

The boy had made him sit up on the stool, his face looking towards the direction of the window, posed in a dignified manner. "You're the former champion, so act like you've got hope for the future as well as the burden of a deep and dark past."

Aaron had shrugged when he was given the suggestion, "Shouldn't be too hard. Being champion is burden enough." They both laughed at his dark humor, in spite of the nervous pit in Aaron's stomach. It had been at least an hour since then, and the boy was still going at it. Aaron had no idea how much of the painting was finished, nor how much was left an empty tint of white. Every now and then he was allowed to take a small break so he could stretch and walk around. Halfway through the session, an older girl came in with a platter of reception food for them to eat.

"She works under my grandfather" the boy explained, when Aaron asked him about her during one of his breaks. "She's training to be the next curator of this museum."

As it turned out, the boy's name was Ezekiel, and he was the grandson of the museum's current curator. "My grandfather taught me to paint", Ezekiel admitted shyly. "My parents want me to become coordinators, like them, so they taught me to mix poffins. To tell you the truth, I'd rather mix poffins than train pokemon to perform for a lousy ribbon."

Aaron had raised an eyebrow at this. When he first saw Ezekiel at the harbor he was almost certain he was a coordinator. "So what is it that you want to do with your life?"

The young poffin mixer laughed, "That's my secret." Aaron found the young man's lack of clarity a tad bit agitating. He didn't understand why the boy had even bothered owning a Pokemon, if he had no wish to train it.

At the moment, the boy's Smeargle was inside his pokeball, alongside Aaron's own Pokemon. In the beginning, Ezekiel had wanted to have Aaron hold them all on a belt in his right hand, as if to make a statement about his power and commitment. Yet, the idea was eventually scrapped on the grounds that it was "too much work."

"...Not to mention confusing. Plus I'm sure there will be some freaks out there who might just assume you to be a Pokemon Collector or something."

Regardless of the pain he had to endure being stuck in one pose for every fifteen minutes, Aaron was truly thankful he wasn't expected to carry anything. In Ezekiel's defense, he was incredibly supportive of Aaron's sad performance as an artist's model. There were some moments when Aaron caught him giving an "okay" sign, letting the former champion know that he had nothing to worry about.

During another one of their breaks, Aaron brought up the topic of modeling, and what prior experience Ezekiel had with portraits. "I've had a lot of good models", Ezekiel stated casually, "as well as plenty of terrible ones. You're actually not that bad. Well, you're still a bit stiff, but that's easily reprimanded. There was this one girl I had model for me, and she was gorgeous, but her Nosepass was much more relaxed than she was."

Aaron had to admit, he was warming up to the boy, who did whatever he could to make him feel comfortable. "Most people are intimidated by the thought of modeling for an artist", Ezekiel had went on to explain. "A lot of people fear being taken advantage of, which is why most artists tend to shy away from painting portraits of humans."

"You mean, a lot of artists-"

"They tend to stick to painting Pokemon, yes. That's why you see a lot more Pokemon themed paintings. There is a lot more trust involved between both parties. Modeling takes courage, and you have plenty of it my friend." The boy smiled an encouraging smile, which made the nervous pit in Aaron's stomach disappear. He wasn't sure how, but the other boy managed to make him forget about all his faults.

Another hour had come and went, until Ezekiel had announced he was finally finished. Aaron was borderline exhausted from all the sitting around, and thankful that he was able to stop for the day. He looked up and smiled at the beaming young artist, who looked like a mess himself. His hands, arms, and face were covered with paint, and smelt of liquid oil. It almost gave him the same appearance as his Smeargle, almost.

After they both washed up, Aaron was told told how he would not see the finished portrait until the next day. He didn't mind personally, since the fact the artist was even doing this free of charge was impressive enough. Aaron wasn't too sure how he would deal with a portrait of himself being on display, but he felt thankful for the artist's efforts. He knew he didn't have to do this, especially since he was no longer champion. The boy probably had a ton of commissions already.

It almost made him feel guilty. He had thought of the girl he met on the ship entered his mind, and how he had stood her up. She was probably still mad at him, Aaron certainly wouldn't blame her. He was a shitty person, and he definitely didn't deserve the artist's gift.

"I suppose we'll see each other tomorrow then?" the artist had asked him, before he set out for the motel. The question made Aaron uneasy, since he didn't want to make any promises to Ezekiel. His response was neutral, and lacked dedication, "Sure." It got the point across. Aaron wasn't sure himself, whether he would make it or not. He had to leave early tomorrow if he wanted to get to the next city in time to catch the infamous floating castle. As much as Aaron would love to grant the artist a visit, he wondered if his heart would be in the right place.

'I suppose I'll find out tomorrow', Aaron thought, as he made his way down the long stairway that lead to the museum, with Ezekiel no doubt waving goodbye from afar. The former champion knew that the artist would probably understand if he didn't come, but he wasn't so certain how that Gym Trainer had felt about him. In fact, he wasn't certain how he felt about her. He looked over towards the department store in wonder, before refocusing on his destination. It was a stretch, to think that she would still be out shopping at this hour. Perhaps he would find her at the motel, maybe even in her room. If he ran into her, he would ask for forgiveness. Otherwise, Aaron had no idea what to expect from another encounter. 'She snuck up on you' he reminded himself.

Up above the former champion's head, the sky was growing darker, much earlier than usual, as clouds began to hover ever so closely together. The resulting shades of grey with yellow patches gave an ominous appearance. Aaron would say that it was the universe scolding him if he had noticed. It didn't appear as though many of the townspeople had noticed either. The sky had done this sort of thing before after all...

"It looks like it's going to be a big one huh dearie" an old woman took note, staring at the sky as she walked along a young girl with tanned skin and a makeshift ponytail. The girl didn't seem to hear the old lady, on account of the two bags filled to the brim with groceries she was carrying. She didn't need to answer, as the old woman continued, "Yes it's going to be big indeed."

Olea groaned, appalled that a nice looking old lady could have so much money to spend. When she had offered to help the elder with her shopping she merely had a quarter of what Olea was carrying in her bag. "Lady, I really have no idea what you're talking about." Olea looked down at the frail old woman beside her, who had to walk with a cane, making the trip back from the department store excruciatingly long. She had hoped that she could have regrouped with the former Indigo League Champion by now, but odds are he would have a room booked.

The old lady took no notice of the grimace plastered on Olea's face. Her attention remained on the changing skies, frightened and concerned. "We must hurry dear, before it begins."

The sky had turned overcast, with clouds looming in an ever threatening manner. From the east, a flock of Pelippers and Wingulls could be seen. There were some Taillows circling about over the city as well. The Pokemon had grown oddly quiet, in fact the entire city was silent now that Olea thought about it. 'Strange, the weather was fine all day.' Olea was positive that there wasn't any mention of a storm in the weather reports either. The old lady beside her gave her an odd look, "Dearie you should go find a place to stay for the evening. I can carry my bags the rest of the way."

"Huh?" Olea wasn't sure how to respond. She had offered to do the lady an act of kindness, and had expected to be the one carrying the bags the entire way through.

The old woman smiled, and grabbed her bags before the Gym Trainer could object. "Please dearie, go find shelter." Olea frowned, what was going on? This lady was acting as if the world was about to end. In fact, the entire city was behaving as if it was doomsday. All around her people were rushing to get home, and shops were closing up early. What was wrong with this town?

"Hey! Lady!"

It was too late, the old lady had already left her, and soon so did all the other pedestrians scampering about like scared Rattatas. Olea gazed in dismay at what was occurring around her, confused and frightened. Eventually she had no choice but to go find a room for he night like the old lady had suggested. The wind had grown strong, no longer the pleasant sea breeze it was before. Throughout the entire journey to the motel, Olea was threatened to be carried off by the wind, which proved to be a formible foe.

Inside the motel, a congregation of foreign trainers stood amongst themselves, speaking in hushed tones. Many of them had their Pokemon out, and were seeking to provide comfort for the frightened creatures. Olea decided to do the same.

"It's strange, isn't it? There was no mention of a storm in the papers" she heard a trainer say as she petted her Venomoth. It took her a while to register that the trainer was talking to her. "Uh, yeah. Weird." She looked over at two other trainers who were locked in conversation. One of them nodded at her, and she nodded back. A lot of the trainers appeared to want to socialize just to take their minds off of the strangeness that was outside. Olea wasn't sure whether she wanted to join them. There was no hint that the former champion was among them for one thing. In any case, Olea figured she would just end up being a bother.

She edged past the energetic gathering, avoiding anyone who might think she had any answers to the questions they all seemed to share. Neither of them appeared to know what was going on. Some of them had voiced their desires to go back to their appropriate region. Olea didn't blame them, she had thought about it herself. The lady at the counter paid no heed to her questions about the strange weather. "It's normal", she was told. That was a lie, of course, but the lady didn't seem to care. There was a hint of grave acceptance in that voice. Perhaps, it would be pushing it to expect the denizens of Lilycove to question what cannot be changed.

Saddened, Olea took her keys to her room, her Venomoth humming into her ear. She had thought she would see Aaron, but he didn't seem to have stopped at the motel yet. The lady at the counter hadn't seen him either. Wherever he was, she hoped he was safe.