A guttural cry forced its way out of Callahan's throat, echoing against the cave walls. His ribs painfully shifted over each other as the Onix held him in a crushing grasp with its tail. Callahan could taste the hot, coppery tang of blood on his tongue. Everything seemed enveloped in a haze. All sounds were far away as darkness beckoned him at the sides of his vision.
He coughed, blood splattering against the back of his teeth.
"What's the matter, huh?" the bandit leader said with a shit-eating grin as he signaled his Onix to tighten its grip on the beaten man. "Did you die of shock? Then let me wake you right up again!"
With the devilish cackling of the leader, the giant Pokémon raised its tail high, brushing the cave ceiling, before smashing it harshly onto the ground, crushing Callahan against the rough stone. "You awake yet?" the leader shouted, and before Callahan could even begin to answer, it drove its tail through the stone wall that separated the cave. The entire wall crumbled to the ground as Callahan released a voiceless scream. Rock splintered, piercing through his clothes and digging deeply into Callahan's skin.
The leader raised his fist towards his face to make his Onix lower Callahan's body towards him, chuckling darkly when he saw that the man's hair and face was caked with blood. "Anybody home?" he asked as he tapped his gloved finger against Callahan's forehead. A cough was his only response, the weak sound only serving to increase the bandit's already bursting mirth. "Look there! You see that? Seems she didn't get away scratch free, either."
Callahan turned his head in a daze to find a young teenage girl lying unconscious on the ground surrounded by rubble. Her opponent was lying beside her. Because of the spinning of the room and his hazy vision, he was unable to see whether her chest was still moving. "R-risa."
Callahan stretched his arm towards his companion as dark spots began to envelop his vision. The final thing that went through his head before he lost consciousness was a question that he had asked himself from the moment he had entered the new region.
How did I end up in this mess?
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Chapter one – The liar and the delinquent!
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4 days prior
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Callahan's co-workers had started to avoid him in the break room, not because he was unpleasant, but because he had started giving them PowerPoint presentations on why he should quit his job and become a professional cheese grader.
To say that the rumours surrounding his mental health were questionable was anything but an understatement. There were many, if not a hundred examples in this very month of the family man conducting himself in manners the exact opposite of appropriate.
For instance: Callahan had started talking to his office plant, Herbert, so often that people were pretty sure it had started to develop a personality disorder. One employee even swore that his daily lunchtime routine had devolved from mindlessly scrolling through his phone to throwing bread crumbs at the Wingull outside his window, all while muttering under his breath about the futility of life.
(There were also rumours that not a single Wingull had actually managed to catch any of these crumbs, and that the people down below were getting quite displeased with him.)
Of all these rumours, the man didn't pay the least bit of mind.
The fifty-year-old sat slumped down in his chair, staring blankly at the endless rows of spreadsheets on his desk. He rubbed his bleary eyes and tried to focus on the numbers, but they all seemed to blur together in a never-ending cycle of monotony. As he reached for his sixth cup of coffee this morning, he realized that every employee should be entitled to a second breakfast break. "Maybe I should just crawl under my desk and take a nap," he thought aloud, kneeling to the floor. "I mean, it's not like anyone would even notice."
The bespectacled face of the person beside him broke out into sweat. "Calla, get out," he whispered panicky. "They'll fire you for sure!"
"You know, Carl, I've been dreaming of a new job for so long that I might start sleepwalking into our boss' office and quit in my pyjamas. At least then there'll come something of it."
"Don't say that. You'll throw all of your years away."
"Thirty years. Thirty years, for this."
When he stood back up, fetched some breadcrumbs from his drawer—which was flooded with them—and threw them out of the window, all while mumbling nonsensical melancholy, Carl couldn't be quicker to force him back into his chair. He quickly looked around for any sign of the staff before he lowered himself to Callahan's ear.
"Just think this through. You are just twenty years away from retirement. You're already–"
"Twenty years!"
"Shut up!" hissed Carl. "Do it for Kellie."
"Mia's able to take care of her herself."
"Then do it for your future self. Just work towards something."
Callahan merely sighed, his tired blue eyes finally meeting his friend's.
"Life isn't a race, Carl. Neither is it a climb. It is a marathon. And I'm getting sick of running the same laps." Callahan looked outside his window. "So sick of it..."
At once with his words, a Pelipper came flying past his office, zigzagging past the skyscrapers shining in the golden sunrise and diving down to soar over the heads of thousands of people crossing the crossroad of Fula City. The bird flew through open windows and over grassy parks, only to cast its shadow onto a girl who was actually running lapses; one who, ironically enough, was thinking the exact same thing.
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"I'm so sick of this...! Oh man, where the fuck did it run off to?!"
This is Risa.
People trust Risa with their pets.
They shouldn't.
The rebel darted through the park. Urgency masked her every move while her blonde hair flowed behind her. She leaped over benches and dodged around trees while eying all around. "I swear, if I lose another dog, my Pokémon-walking service will be out of business before it even starts."
She snatched a streetlamp and practically used her momentum to drift around the corner. The park was bustling with people and Pokémon alike, but none of them were the fluffy brown Yamper she was supposed to be walking. Risa huffed and puffed, tugging at her hot yellow hoodie that was drenched in sweat. Call her a delinquent, but she took her job seriously–especially once there were thirteen Pokédollars on the line.
Dashing through the park, Risa had to admit that the landscape was quite beautiful. There were oaks which were so tall that they nearly touched the sky, and the pond that reflected her dashing figure was so clear the rebel could see the Magikarp swimming around in it. She skirted around a group of teenagers that were nonchalantly smoking by a bench and barely, barely avoided a couple making out in the grass.
Suddenly, Risa dug her heels into the ground. She skid to a halt, eyes widening. Up ahead, she spotted the little Yamper. It appeared to be having quite some fun, spattering all around in a Blastoise-shaped fountain. The girl jogged over. Her pink sneakers slapped against the steaming ground. "Coco, what are you doing? You're supposed to be walking with me, not the other way around!"
Coco looked up, a puff of yellow fur framing his non-existent neck. He barked and wagged his tail, clearly thinking he had the upper paw in this game of tag. Risa couldn't help but smirk tiredly at that. "Well, at least you're having a good time. But your owner is going to tear me a new one if we don't get you back soon." She puffed where she stood, stroking some loose tendrils out of her face and behind her ear. "'My Yamper doesn't need a leash', yeah right. Fucking normies."
She could be a real delight whenever she was exhausted.
"Anyways, it's time to go. So come here. Come to me, you beautiful, wonderful, shitty–"
The Yamper's ears twitched at that last part. It slowly, slowly angled its head towards her.
"Ooohhhh no."
It took a tiny step backwards.
"No, no, no..."
And it took off sprinting, kicking up a dust cloud that struck her right in the face.
"Oh for fuck's sake!"
And like that, the chase continued. This time, she got a free tour through the entirety of Fula City. Despite the tiring heat wave, the preparations for the Wind Festival were in full swing. She passed by a group of workers who were using their Pokémon to help construct the new stage for the singers. They used a Machamp that was lifting heavy beams on its shoulders. Other workers enjoyed the cool water that a Wartortle sprayed over them to give some relief from the scorching heat.
As she continued looking around, Risa ran past a group of Diglett who were busy digging up the pavement to install new cables for the city's communication network. These tiny cables allowed people to transport their Pokémon to any place connected to the network. She still had no idea how that worked; seeing these Pokémon being transformed into a mass of data, or in a mass of energy, or whatever it was, was still something that only the higher ups knew about. The small, mole-like creatures turned their heads as the teenager soared by. They gave each other a look before they dove back into the ground.
It wasn't only the fact that she was running around that garnered a lot of attention from everyone she passed. Her appearance was remarkable, to say the least. Her short blonde hair was styled in an undercut on the right side and was streaked with blue and pink lines. Her torn jeans didn't help either, but Risa found it a great way to make people avoid her; although the gazes that came with that didn't do much to improve her mood.
It was only after five more minutes of running that she finally caught up with the creature.
Turning the corner, she found the Pokémon she was looking for gnawing on a rotten apple. "Hey, don't eat that!" she shouted as she ran towards it.
She squatted down and forcefully tried to yank the fruit out of its jaw. Not that the Pokémon gave a crap. It shook its head left and right and bit down as hard as it could. Then, with a comical swallow, it gulped down the fruit. Risa could only groan as she saw what was about to happen next.
The effect was immediate, as the Pokémon sneezed and purple bubbles started to emit from its nostrils.
Risa rolled her eyes. "That's what I've been telling ya…" she muttered and swung her backpack off her shoulders, rummaging through it to find some kind of medicine. For some strange reason, it was surprisingly hard to find, probably because her backpack was stuffed to the brim with three hoodies, some jeans, bottled water, underwear, and lots, lots of instant noodles—strange stuff for a city dweller to carry around.
The Pokémon put its paws over the rim of the backpack as if it wanted to check what all the fuss was about. Its cheeks swelled up. Risa looked up from searching just a little too late.
"No, no, no, no!"
The Pokémon vomited right inside her backpack.
Risa could only stare in disbelief as she watched the mess ooze between her clothes.
The girl send the Pokémon a look. Then, she groaned and squatted, spraying some medicine over her furry 'friend'. She sighed. "You know what, I don't even care anymore." With a hop, she pulled the soaked backpack onto her back. She gave a sharp look at the Pokémon, who leapt into her arms like nothing was the matter.
Yup. Time to head on back. It has run for long enough.
Just as she was about to round the corner, she heard the sound of a police siren in the distance. Risa's heart sank, quick to drown her fear in a layer of frustration.
"Damn it, not again..."
She quickly glanced around, looking for a place to hide. She spotted a small container in the alley and darted behind it. She pressed her back against the wall as she waited for the police to pass.
A woman with blue hair stepped out of the car, putting up flyers as well as handing them out and questioning the pedestrians.
"C'mon, move… What's up with that woman…?!"
Awkwardly, Risa stole a glance at the Yamper nestled in her arms, only to be met with a giant smile, its tongue dangling out of its mouth, a tongue that proved to be long enough to leave a slimy trail across her arm.
"Please, don't bark… I'll give you some candy if you don't."
The dog barked softly. That seemed to be a deal.
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Callahan sat on a wooden bench shaped after a Sudowoodo. His arm dangled relaxed off the bench's green and roundish armrest. He took a big sniff of the sweet smell of freshly made cotton candy that spread through the ground of the annual Wind Festival. Children's laughter echoed around him as he watched them run and jump in the playground.
Among them played his little niece, Kellie, who was easily noticeable between all children by her blue curls. With one glimpse anyone would be able to tell that she truly revelled in the magical atmosphere of the Wind Festival.
A cheeky grin spread across Callahan's face. He got lucky, he thought to himself. Only his sister, Mia, inherited the blue hair color. He brushed his hand under his beret, through his curly brown hair. He wasn't one that cared much about appearances, though, opting mostly to just wear the same attire day after day. The first time his sister had visited his apartment, she had burst out laughing after opening his closet, seeing piles of the same red buttoned polo-shirt alongside his white khakis and brown sleeveless bodywarmer that he always opted to wear unzipped. He wasn't stealing the show by any means, but that was fine by him. After all, it was not his appearance he was uncertain about.
He quickly shook his head.
Kellie's infectious laughter reached his ears and he turned his attention back to her. The child was sitting inside a tiny gondola which carried the children a centimeter or two above the ground around the playground. Her eyes grew wide with wonder. She quickly waved at her uncle.
With a lazy lift of his palm, he waved back with an approving smile. As he observed the scene, a faint hint of nostalgia hit him. Slowly his thoughts began to meander through the alleys of his memory. A scene spread out before him. He remembered his own childhood; the feeling of the wind rushing through his hair as he rode this same attraction, his heart filled with a sense of boundless possibility. The world seemed so vast back then.
What changed I wonder?
Well, time had. He was no longer a kid. His mind wasn't filled with adventures or his arch nemesis, homework. No, now as an adult he was burdened by the weight of responsibilities. He didn't want to delve into these feelings though. Instead he chose to find comfort in the small break from his usual slog. The Wind Festival provided an escape from the worries that troubled him.
Callahan's eyes moved from the gondolas towards a cluster of kites soaring above him resembling the Pokémon Lugia. Their white tails swirled in the breeze.
He couldn't help but wonder about the aspirations that swirled within his niece's young heart. What heights would she try to reach as she chased her own aspirations? In that moment, Callahan made a silent promise to himself—to be there, to support and guide her through the gusts of life, just as the wind guided those kites, no matter how cliché that might sound. After all, he wouldn't ever have to worry about dreams of his own.
It must be nice, having a dream in your life. Or having hobbies in general.
The only hobby that he thought he had was hanging around with Kellie.
Before he would grow too cynical, the man averted his attention to the two adults sitting on the bench to his left. They were watching a history video on the loudspeakers of their phone. He watched boredly along, hearing all about the legends of Fula City, about the great fire and Lugia who saved them all. The adults were getting pretty weirded out by the way he leaned over the bench to watch along, even giving him a glare. But he never was someone who really cared about what other people thought of him, so he didn't really pay them any mind.
The adults stepped up soon enough, but a bundle of energy came quickly skipping his way.
"Uncle Callahan, Uncle Callahan, did you see me?!"
"And if I did! Oh, aren't you a little adventurer! Being up so high."
A kite flew over them and clad them in a shadow. Kellie's pupils dilated as she pointed upwards to the kite which silver lining glittered in the sun.
"Uncle Callahan!? What kind of Pokémon is that?"
Callahan followed her gaze, shielding his eyes against the sun. "Ah, that's the Legendary Pokémon Lugia. Lugia's the reason this city has grown to the size it has!"
"Uncle Callahan, you know everything!"
"It happened long, long ago." The man waltzed forward, pulling the attention of everyone around the children's playground as he dramatically pulled his beret low enough to cast a shadow over his eyes. "It was a cold day. I had just arrived in town for work, when suddenly—I began to see a red glow up on the mountain! It then occurred to me that red glow was a fire!" Callahan skipped up on a few diglett-shaped-pillars and slew his arms to the sides. "I screamed... Townspeople, listen to me! The fire's coming closer! Run! I called for Lugia, hoping for help! And Lugia came and put out that mountain fire! Since then, the town has been living happily ever after! The end! Thank you!"
"Uncle Callahan, Awesome!"
Callahan bowed and put off his beret, basking in the attention and cheers of everyone around. With a few hops, he jumped down the pillars and waved through the crowd until he got to Kellie.
A woman from the audience sneaked her face over to him. "You lied," she whispered confused. "The disaster happened seventy years ago, right? Why do you do that?"
"It's not lying. It's called dramatic license," muttered Callahan as he shielded his voice with one hand, before he quickly squatted to Kellie's eye level. "So, Kellie! What do you want to do next? There's a lot of fun stuff all around!" Callahan asked as he lured Kellie far away from the spot.
Kellie looked up at him with big, bright eyes. "Can we go on the roller coaster?"
Callahan chuckled. Looking over his shoulder, he noticed that she wasn't looking at the large one. It was a smaller version themed after an Eevee, truly made for children. The uncle grinned. "You sure you're ready for that?"
Kellie nodded her head eagerly. "Yes, please! I want to go in the front!"
"The front? Oh, dear, I don't know if your uncle is up to that."
"Oh pretty please!"
"Alright, alright," said Callahan. "Let's go."
Kellie basically dragged him along, her tiny hand not even able to fully wrap itself around his. Kellie had improved drastically these last few years. She'd always been a bit on the weaker side when it came to her physical health. She was easily tired, and it wouldn't be unusual to have her falling asleep whenever you would stop talking to her for a second. Before his sister had encouraged him to join her on the festival, he had even asked if she was up to this. With this beam of sunshine skipping up ahead, it was hard to even put that connection to the same girl.
Once they reached the roller coaster, Callahan helped Kellie get strapped into her seat and made sure she was secure. As the ride began to climb higher and higher, Kellie squeezed his hand tightly.
A flood of validation and warmth rushed through him, being a bigger rush than the biggest drop of any rollercoaster could ever be.
"This is awesome!" Kellie shouted as they went down the first big drop.
Callahan laughed as they rode through the twists and turns of the coaster.
After the ride was over, they went on a few more attractions, enjoying the thrill. Soon enough, though, his bladder was killing him.
It was at that exact moment that Lord Arceus came to his aid and let Kellie be distracted just in time by a buzzling ice cream stand. Callahan was quick to notice her lingering gaze, guessing all too soon that she merely kept silent out of sheer politeness.
"Say, I'm almost melting here. I know, how 'bout you get us some ice cream?" He fetched his wallet and took out two coins. "Here. Uncle Callahan will take whichever you take, alright? I'll be sitting there on the bench, just gotta take a little stroll."
"Sure!"
With that, he put one leg up in the air before he burst into a mad-dash. As a blur he rushed into toilet. The men standing in front the urinals only felt a breeze soar through their shirts before they soon after almost tore off their manhood when they pulled up their zippers and heard someone scream, "Hallelujah!" from out one of the stalls.
Not much later, the man stepped out of the toilet, the bustling sounds of the Wind Festival reaching his ears once again. He stood there for a moment, his brown and yellow bodywarmer slightly wrinkled and his hands unconsciously wiping against the fabric.
Kellie was still standing in line in the distance, looking all okay.
It had been a busy day to say the least. He had been dashing all around town since earlier this morning, from work, to this, and before that… before that he had to visit his 'favorite' place.
The noise and excitement around him faded into the background as his mind wandered to the visit he had made earlier that day.
Callahan sat across from a suited woman, his hairy fingers tapping restlessly against the armrest of his chair. He stole a glance at the clock above the door, then peeked out the window behind him at the bright red car that reflected the light of the sun into his eyes. If it wasn't for that one car, he would finally tell the woman what he truly thought: that all of this was an unnecessary waste of his time.
"Mister Harrington."
Could Mia even see him this far up?
Maybe he could wait in the stairwell next time. Then again, last time she caught him in the act and dragged him by his ear up here…
"Mister Harrington."
"Y-yes Ma'am?"
The red-purplish-haired woman gave him a sweet, wrinkled smile as she glanced over her glasses. "I am paid per hour."
"Yes, yes of course. Sorry, where were we?"
"Mister Harrington, would you be so kind to look down at the table? What do you see?"
He rolled his eyes, already knowing where this was going. He did as he was told and looked at the pack of cards lying on her desk. "A whopper of a hand."
The woman smiled professionally. "There are a lot of people who are far better at cards than I am, not to mention they would do it for free."
The therapist crossed her stocking-clad legs, her heels sinking in the thick, dusty carpet. Tiny dust particles appeared from the motion, floating past the gigantic windows that gave sight to the many windmills and skyscrapers. They were really high up.
Groaning, Callahan leaned back while he rubbed a hand over his brow. "Look, I mean no offense."
"None taken. You can tell me anything whenever you want."
Callahan took a deep breath and began to speak, his eyes aimed at the ceiling.
"What's there to say that we haven't already covered? I lie, Doctor. All the time. About everything. Sometimes I lie just for the sake of lying. I can't stop myself. I think that Mia already told you about this, right? She makes the appointments."
"And you agreed to them. That is very kind of you."
"Yes, well, thank you very much. So we all know what the problem is long beforehand. But I've come to realize that lying isn't necessarily a problem… It's… Urgh, never mind."
"No, go on."
"I-it's like an art form. A way of expressing myself."
Dr. Williams furrowed her brow. "I'm not sure I understand, Callahan. Can you explain?"
Callahan nodded, taking a moment to collect his thoughts as he followed the dust particles floating around the room all while wondering why he could never—ever keep his mouth shut.
"You see, Doctor, the truth is boring. Mundane. But when I lie, I'm creating something. A story. My life is my canvas, and my words are my brush strokes. I'm not just living my life, I'm performing it. And every great performance needs a great story."
Dr. Williams leaned back in her armchair, eyes still fixed on Callahan, like she wasn't really convinced if even this wasn't just another lie.
"And what about the people you're lying to, Callahan? Don't they deserve the truth?"
Callahan shrugged. "Why should they? The truth won't make them happy– or make them feel alive. But a good lie, Doc... a good lie can change everything. It can make them feel something they've never felt before. It can give them hope. It can motivate them, hell, even inspire them!" Callahan smiled and leaned forward with his hands on her desk. "Just think about it, how many people aren't there who say that a source of media has saved their life? All of these stories… they are complete lies! It's not like the author has actually been through those things, it's not like the author has experienced any of the struggles that the protagonists struggle through. It's all a little lie. And it saves people."
Dr. Williams bit her red lips while she rattled her fingers over her keyboard, her brows growing closer while her hazel eyes tendered when she met his again.
"Callahan, I understand that you may see lying as a form of self-expression and a way of pleasing people, but it's also a serious problem. Lying... it can have... negative effects on the people you hold dear. It can damage relationships, erode trust… it can lead to very, very significant problems in your life if things get out of hand. We need to focus on finding healthier ways for you to express yourself."
Oh God, here we go again.
"Doctor, you don't…" He stood abruptly, rubbing his hands through his hair as he walked through the room. "You don't understand. Lying isn't the problem here. It's who I am. And I refuse to be ashamed of that, nor will I ever be ashamed of that."
Dr. Williams took a deep breath, eyes softening.
"Callahan, I'm not asking you to be ashamed. What I am asking of you, is to be honest with yourself. To see that there may be a better way forward. A way that doesn't involve hurting yourself or those around you."
Callahan looked away to the skyscrapers, his face unreadable.
"Because it does hurt you, doesn't it?"
"I don't know if I can do that, Doc." Callahan started fidgeting with his beret. "But I'll try."
"And that's another lie." The doctor fell silent for a moment and sucked on her pen. "Mister Harrington, let's go back a little. A moment ago, you said, and I quote, that 'every performance needs a great story.'" She averted her eyes from the computer. "Do you believe that the life that you have lived up to this point isn't great?"
Callahan scoffed. Yup, coming here was a bad idea.
"Ma'am, forgive my rudeness—what are you doing once your day is over?"
"The same thing as always, the same thing as everyone. There is no need to live a grandiose existence in order for it to be called great and worthwhile—"
Raising his hands slightly, Callahan hushed her. "I did not come here to be sold lies. I'm not living in La La Land, with all due respect, of course. I mean, I'm not wrong. I create smiles. Without these lies, h-how could I ever… There's no way… I mean…"
Dr. Williams nodded a few times. "I get that there can be advantages to telling lies, Callahan. However it's crucial to keep in mind that your actions also have consequences."
Callahan leaned closer, his voice becoming more urgent.
"Doctor, in this world, you have to be able to sell yourself. If you don't like people, or if you're unlikable by nature, then you have to put up a facade in order to get along with others. You have to be able to present yourself in a way that's attractive to potential employers, business partners, clients. And sometimes, that means bending the truth."
He paused, then continued.
"Not to mention getting a girl to fall for you. Well, I need to be rich, I need to be charismatic, know jokes—I need to be interesting, have experiences, have pick-up lines—some people aren't born with all of those skills. Some people are simply average. Vanilla. The type you would forget the moment you avert your eyes."
The doctor gave him a stiff smile like he was again unwilling to face the real problem, but Callahan quickly continued.
"Look at politicians, Doctor. They lie all the time. But they do it because they know that the truth won't get them elected. They have to create a narrative that resonates with the people—their voters, even if that narrative isn't entirely truthful. And it works, Doctor. It works."
"People do not necessarily like politician—"
Callahan's voice was rising now. He spread his arms theatrically.
"And talking about jobs: what do you think about writers and actors, Doctor? They lie for a living! They create characters, whole worlds even, that aren't real. Even though it's all a fat lie; we love them for it– admire them even for their ability to create something out of nothing. Lying isn't always bad, it can be used to do good!"
"So you have said."
"Then you see what I'm getting at! There are also consequences of not lying."
Callahan realised he had stood up from his chair. Long since extinguished the feeling of embarrassment, the man sat down and sulked, too headstrong to offer his apologies for his rudeness.
The two kept silent. The dust particles floated on, glistering in the sunlight and landing on his nose. Callahan pulled up his nose.
"What do you see?" he said finally.
"I see a man, who cares about pleasing people. I see someone, who never feels like he is good enough. I see someone, who slowly but surely is damaging his self-worth."
"I understand what you're saying, Doctor. And I appreciate your concern. I truly do. But I still believe that lying can be a tool that can be used to do good, if used correctly, of course. It's all about the balance, right? Knowing when to tell the truth, and when to spin a good tale. I just need to figure out a way how to do that."
Dr. Williams smiled with a hint of amusement.
"Well, Callahan, I can see that you're passionate to improve. And I'm not saying that lying doesn't have its place. There is always a time and a place. But I get the feeling that in your mind 'the time to lie' arises quite often. We need to make sure that you're not using it as a crutch. I think we need to work on finding ways for you to connect with others authentically, without relying on lies or facades— and on improving your self-esteem while we're at it. How do you feel about that, Callahan?"
The doctor smiled, then her smile faltered ever so slightly around the edges as she looked at the clock.
"Oh, look at the time. It seems like it's the end of our appointment. Same time, next week?"
Her smile froze ever so slightly in place.
"…Sure."
The woman walked him out, and closed the door behind him. Callahan looked back. He wiped his sweaty hands off on his bodywarmer and stowed them into his pockets. He slouched down the stairwell, his face being casted in a shadow whenever he passed a window.
Why are you telling me that lying is bad, when you lie about being interested in me?
Shaking the memory away, he quickly blinked a few times until the festival appeared again before his eyes.
Yeah, he couldn't stop lying. It was habit forming. Even this morning, telling Carl that he wanted to walk to his boss and quit his job… that was never going to happen. There was too much risk. He never liked that.
He never, ever had liked that.
"Uncle Callahan!"
Kellie ran up to him, two soft ice cream cones in her hands.
"I bought some ice cream! Here! This one's all for you!"
"Oh, thank you, Kellie!"
That face was all it took for him to press these thoughts to the back of his mind.
"Uncle Callahan, please show me your Pokémon! Do you have the strongest Pokémon ever ever?"
"Uh, of course I do! See?" He quickly fetched a Pokéball out of his pants.
Kellie's irises almost looked like a blue galaxy sparkling with stars and filled with wonder. "What kind is it?"
"The strongest kind!"
"Let me see!"
"No!" Kellie angled on her tiptoes and reached for the ball, so he quickly held it away. Sweat sippled off his big nose. "See, now's not a good time. It was just in a giant battle and it's exhausted! Hey, look out! Your ice cream! It's dripping!"
Her pupils dilated, and she quickly began to lick away at all the parts that dripped over the cone. Callahan wiped the sweat off his brow. Phew, that distracted her. Still, her thoughts will probably drift right back to it if I keep this up!
"Hey, I see some fun things over there!"
"Where? Oh yeah, mom and I still have a surprise for you once we get back home!"
"A surprise? I can't wait to see what it is! But first, let me clean up that pretty face of yours."
He took out a napkin and cleaned her mouth once she had devoured her ice cream. He lifted her up and put her on his shoulders, and laughs of pure joy mingled with the excited screams of people on the rollercoaster.
He smiled upwards at his niece, her eyes filled with tenderness locking with his. At that moment, he felt at peace. It was unbeknownst to him, that on this very night he would disappear for a month, face horrors unbeknownst to most men, find true companionship, be forced to make life-altering choices, become the most hated man in the region, and strain his moral compass to the breaking point.
But Callahan did not know that yet. So what he did, was walk forward; step by step, towards the night that would come to haunt him for the rest of his life.