Chapter 27: The Long Month to Spring
January 6th 1994, 4pm.
The afternoon sun outside the window warmed my back, while the tea in my cup slowly cooled. I put my hands around the clay mug, but it was useless. Soon, the cold water would bring out the bitterness in the tea-leaves, making it almost undrinkable. But finishing it would mean I’d either have to order a new one, therefore implying I wanted to stay or leave my cup empty, giving me no reason not to leave. And I didn’t want either of those.
I turned the cup a bit on its rim, causing the tea inside to swash around. The scraping of the clay on the hardwood of the knee-high table was the only sound to fill the silence of the Pokemon Center’s lobby. A silence that was monotonous and tense at the same time.
Across the table, a metallic clicking sound emerged when Leon started to play with a spoon, bobbing it up and down.
He looked surprisingly well put together. After the last weeks of — for a lack of better words — withering, he now had a somewhat healthy skin tone. And even though he still looked sleep deprived, he almost seemed back to his old self. Almost.
“So…” I broke the silence. Not because I knew what to say, but because Leon had started the last two attempts at a conversation.
“We should talk about this,” he said after a while, not looking up.
“Yes,” I said.
That was as far as we had got with the last attempts as well. And like the last two times, this time also no one knew what to say, and so we went back to studying the tableware.
I counted two cups of tea, two spoons, and a glass of water. A bowl half-filled with pokemon-treats was shoved to the side. On the plate between us were three tea-sweets and five pairs of Kit-Kats, still packaged. They had all kinds of flavours here, and I hadn’t tried the cherry variant yet. It was the newest addition to the store that had only arrived via air-courier this morning.
Not that I ever wanted to eat anything ever again. My stomach and throat were so tight, I was sure I’d suffocate on the smallest crumb.
Leon cleared his throat. “I think we can both agree that we’re equally to blame here.”
“Yes,” I said.
Over in the kitchen, Sara had started her preparations for dinner. My thoughts almost wandered over to her, but I reined them in just in time. It was my turn to say something.
“I mean, I somewhat started it.”
From across the table came nothing, then finally a sigh. “I went along, so…”
I glanced up to find Leon studying the content of his teacup with at least as much emphasis as I did a moment ago. Him not looking at me somehow felt relaxing. I swallowed to get that knot in my throat at least a little loose, then looked back at my cup.
“The running off part, though not entirely baseless, was uncalled for. At least the way I said it,” I got out.
Across the table was a bit of movement, then a “Hmm”. It sounded strangely neutral.
I could go on listing off everything that was said that was wrong — I spent the entire time since we got back with nothing else. But that probably wouldn’t help. I knew those awkward make-up talks the day after way too well, and at best they achieved little. Still, I wanted nothing more than to apologise and forget about everything.
I looked up again to find Leon in deep contemplation of the spoon. Though I could tell by the way he bit his lips that his thoughts were racing.
“Now don’t take this the wrong way,” I said, watching him intently for any negative reaction. “But what were you thinking when you left without telling anyone?”
Another “Hmm” was the answer, followed by him shifting around on his pillow a bit more. For a few breaths, nobody said anything, then Leon switched his cup back and forth between his hands and cleared his throat.
“So, I’ve gone over everything a few more times, and I get why you got so angry,” he said before he bit his upper lip again and thought about how to continue avoiding an answer.
“Like, I didn’t want to come across as dismissive. And I really appreciate that you came all the way to get me. Really. But I can find my way around. It’s not like I’m completely helpless, you know?” As if to emphasise his statement, he firmly sat his cup on the table, then stared it down.
“I would have got back in time yesterday, too. I wanted to be alone, that’s all.”
I swallowed. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Leon straightened a bit, almost alarmed, and it sounded like he wanted to say something. But then he started nibbling on his lip again and went back to playing with his cup.
Only now I realised I had severely underestimated how insecure he was about his abysmal sense of direction. Sure, at times it got so bad, he could file for disability and would get it granted; he knew that. But he was usually the first one to laugh along with any joke made at his expense and was quite open about it. I had to admit that I wouldn’t have that in me.
But judging from his reaction now, his constant joking was probably an attempt to cover up any insecurities, and I was ashamed that it took me that long to connect the dots. On the other hand, had I known that yesterday, I could have hurt him even worse.
And I had found plenty of ways to do that already. I at least wanted to get the biggest issues out of the way. Deep breath in.
“The things I said regarding the Darkest Day and Hop were…” I trailed off when he suddenly looked up, meeting my eyes with intense focus. “I’m so sorry. I know you care about them a lot.”
“I do.” His voice was stern and all his awkward shuffling was over.
“I know,” I sighed. “And I only brought them up because of that. Please don’t take anything I said as true. Because it is not.”
Leon straightened up. “Just so we are clear on this matter: I absolutely love my brother and I would do anything to stop the Darkest Day, okay?”
I nodded.
Leon continued, but his gaze was now transfixed on my cup. “I might do a terrible job at the moment, but they are the last things I’ve got and—” He grew weary again.
“You never talk about them.”
I immediately regretted saying it. It sounded so mean. But to my surprise, when Leon looked up, there was nothing but genuine puzzlement on his face. I held his gaze and for the first time today, I got the feeling we actually looked at each other.
“Because I care too, you know.”
I really did. Him thinking I didn’t almost hurt more than the ‘stupid things.’ I wanted to go home. Leave this terrible place behind and finally be with normal people again. I was so sick and tired of running around like a thrift store and living on the goodwill of the most narrow-minded people on the planet. I wanted to be with Hop again. And if that meant having to face Eternatus alone.
“Would you like to talk about them sometimes?” His voice was genuine.
“Well, if you…” I trailed off when I noticed the shaking in my voice.
What if the Darkest Day had consumed all of Galar and we were the only lucky survivors? What if there was no Hop to return to? What if we had to take the long way back?
A harsh scraping sound pulled me out of my thoughts, making me flinch. Leon had pushed the plate with the sweets over to me, but I only noticed it once it bumped into my hand. When I didn’t react, he again nudged it against my knuckles.
No matter how generously he looked at me right now, this wasn’t an offer.
When I opened them, my fingers hurt from how firmly I had pressed them against the mug. Reluctantly, I took one of those terrible tea sweets. I estimated they were over ninety per cent sugar and biting into one raised every hair on my body in disgust. I squeezed my eyes shut while my brain processed the intense sensation.
When I opened them, I was met with Leon’s expression, torn between reassurance and worry.
“Everything okay again?” he asked.
I nodded.
He cleared his throat, and a bit of this awkwardness flickered back up. “Do you think we can move on?”
“Yes!” I shot out without thinking twice. “Well, if you’re okay with it.”
“Absolutely. Totally. Thank you!” Leon sounded as relieved as I was. This had been going on for way too long.
Finally, that knot in my throat had loosened enough that I could drink my tea. It was cold and bitter, but it was just what I needed to wash the sugary taste out of my mouth.
When I looked back over at him, Leon played with the spoon again. This time, he let it wander from one end of the table to the other.
He was about as unsatisfied with that conversation as I was, I could tell. I still hadn’t forgotten about the ‘stupid things.’ The entire morning, whenever I did some chore around the Center, those words gave me a little sting. I was a pretty resentful person, yes, but I couldn’t believe that Leon didn’t feel the same stings as I did whenever he heard my voice.
But we had put the issue behind us. Those scars would heal, eventually.
“What happened there?”
The spoon had made its way over the table and was tapping my fingertips. I quickly pulled back and hid my chewed and bloodied nails in my fist.
“Nothing.”
* * *
January 10th 1994, 7pm.
The yarn that I had weaved around my fingers was soft, not at all rough. But when I slowly pulled it, there was friction regardless. I didn’t mind. It was a comforting, steady feeling; the yarn running across and between my fingers.
As steady as the high-pitched sound of the telly or the crackling of the low fire in the fireplace. Everything around had slowed down to a steady, unwavering pace. There were days when I had the feeling this town was stuck in time and I was forced to live the same day again and again for the rest of my life.
But today, that slow, steady pace felt almost fast.
Well, not everything was steady. Behind the couch, Skiploom and Furret chased each other around while Eevee sat on the headrest next to me, her tail twitching in annoyance. In the bathroom, the shower had stopped and there was busy movement. And in the Pokemon Center’s common room on the other side of the town was the cheerful celebration of Kurt’s 81st birthday.
But over here, at Kon’s house, was movie night.
“Hey, sorry you had to wait!” I jumped a bit when Leon burst into the room. His hair was still wet, and he had clearly grabbed the first clothes he could get a hold of.
With way more energy than I had the entire day, he darted over and let himself fall onto the couch next to me.
“So, what’s on?” he asked without stopping for breath.
Blinking twice, I tried to fight back my weariness to at least somewhat catch up to his speed. And even though I had stared at the title card for minutes now, I had to search my brain for it. Time to wake up.
“My Sons,” I finally said.
“What’s it about?” Leon reached for a blanket over on the other sofa and the torsion made his voice sound weird.
“It’s the one about the deaf-mute girl and that family gathering. Where the father and the son get into an argument.”
“Cool cool,” Leon said while he tossed the blanket so it covered the both of us. He clearly had no idea what I was talking about. How often had we watched that movie now? Three times at least.
But that was okay. Because today was a good day. Leon had been out and about from sunrise until way after sundown, training with Farfetch’d and the kids. As taxing as it could be, it was good seeing him back to his old self again.
A bit more shuffling around and we had settled in. Eevee on my lap, Furret around Leon’s neck, Skiploom on his chest and the remote in his hands.
As soon as the opening credits were over, the old show began again. Leon had slouched down into a lying position and now tried to get his feet onto my lap, but every attempt was met with a decisive scratch from Eevee. The two of them seemed to have some issues lately, but I trusted the champion of ten years to sort that one out by himself.
After a while, that small scale warfare became too annoying, and I moved Eevee onto the headrest next to me. I made a point to scratch her chin while Leon claimed his ‘victory’ with a content smile.
One after another, the movie introduced its main characters, but I wasn’t able to focus. Leon couldn’t really keep still and wriggled his toes around. I was sure he didn’t do it on purpose or was even aware of it, but it made me even more conscious about the unwanted contact.
I didn’t even know why that touch raised every hair on my body and put me so on edge. When Eevee had sat there just a moment ago, I didn’t mind either. But now, everything in me focused on the warmth and restlessness he exuded.
“Aren’t you tired at all?” I asked. Because I sure was.
Leon looked up from flipping the remote around and shook his head.
I sighed internally and tried to get comfortable. The characters had gathered on the anniversary of their mother’s death and already tensions were showing. Good thing I already knew the movie. With the amount of times my brain blanked on me today, I probably couldn’t follow otherwise.
I scratched Eevee’s chin one last time and put my hands down. They were met with Leon’s legs, but I didn’t know where else to put them on this crowded couch.
As soon as I touched him, even through the blanket, he calmed down. It was a difference like night and day. No more random shifting around, and even the remote flipping had stopped. When I looked over, I found him staring at me, with an expression that I hadn’t seen in a long time — happiness.
Suddenly, a heat-wave of embarrassment overcame me and I made a point of gazing at the screen again. Not one frame registered in my tired mind, but at least that awkward moment was over. Though I was sure, I could still feel his eyes upon me.
Ten minutes went by with only a few nudges against my hand, almost as to reassure him I was still there. And when I looked over the next time, he was asleep.
I smiled as I sunk deeper into the couch. To feel so safe, so relaxed in the presence of another person that one could fall asleep… I didn’t remember when I last had that feeling, but it sure must have been a wonderful moment.
* * *
January 19th 1994, 7pm.
“No 523 on the National Dex?”
From across the table came a tired humming sound, almost inaudible against the wind rattling the Pokemon Center’s wooden windows. Then, after some time of consideration, an “Anything more?”
I counted the empty squares. “Nine letters, last letter is an ‘A.’”
Silence as Leon counted something in his head, and I continued across the grid. A town in Kalos starting with ‘A’...
“Zebstrika,” he replied a few seconds later.
I filled out the spaces. They matched.
Darkness had already settled in and the faint flickering light from the single lamp and the fire in the fireplace made reading the small letters on the grainy newspaper hard. I briefly considered asking Leon to get us a table lamp from the storage, but then dismissed the idea. It wasn’t worth the hassle of explaining it to him.
Ambrette was the town in Kalos. The musical starring Olivia Newton-John was Grease. But was there something for him…
“Normal type move with six letters,” I said.
“There are hundreds of those.”
If I wasn’t mistaken, there was a certain passive-aggressiveness to his tone that I didn’t like. I held back the sigh that was already in my throat.
This had been his idea. The entire morning, he had been bugging me about how we should do something in the evening, and now that we were spending time together, he couldn’t be less interested. Nothing I had suggested suited him, and the approaching storm outside had cut our options quite short already.
Jigsaw puzzle; reading a book; watching telly — I internally groaned as my brain replayed all the sounds of refusal a human could possibly make. I had heard them all today, and probably a few more. Even working out together or simply calling it a night had been met with an indecisive “Nah.” So now we were doing crossword puzzles. His fault for not being able to decide on anything.
Deep breath in. Count to ten. Try again. There was one question left for him in the bottom right corner.
“TM06?” I asked.
“Fly,” Leon answered without hesitation.
I stared at the grid and almost considered not responding. When I finally did, I couldn’t quite hide my frustration any longer. “It’s supposed to be five letters.”
“TM06 is Fly, what do you—” He stopped himself before his voice got too loud, then sighed and from the sound of it, went back to burying his head in his arms.
Why did I have to put up with this?
“It’s Toxic,” he mumbled and I couldn’t agree more. But if we both knew that, then why did we even sit here? I knew why I was sitting here — I lived here. Now if only he made his way over the street and finally left me alone. Or do something. Whatever, it would be better than that uninterested middle thing.
“Why don’t you write it down?” he asked, and the sheer innocence in his tone quenched the rising anger in me. “They changed a lot of the TMs around over the years. If I remember correctly, TM06 used to be Toxic.”
Oh.
The following silence was only cut short by the wind outside and Leon sighing again, tired. We had the entire Center to ourselves and the lack of activity around made his low energy even more jarring. Especially after how clingy he was earlier.
Persée premiered in the Parfum Palace in 1682.
“Hannah?”
I hummed a sign of general attentiveness while I searched my brain for somebody named Denboku Kamado and their birthplace.
“How much is a plane ticket to Galar?”
I still had no idea who this Kamado was, but Hisui fit.
“Two hundred thousand yen, I’d guess. That’s about fifteen hundred pounds.” Another hum. “What are you on about?”
For the first time since we sat down, I looked up and over at him. He had already stacked everything that he could get a hold of and had not been nailed down into an impressive tower. Now he was transforming the front page of the newspaper into small strips.
“Nothing.”
In the ensuing, quiet moment, putting down my pen sounded loud in the lonely room. The shearing of paper almost echoed off the walls. When the tear had finally reached the end of the sheet, Leon started crumpling the strip into a small ball. He shuffled around and watched the tail end of it intently as it jerked across the table while it got pulled closer and closer to its doom.
“Eternatus is still in the reactor core under Hammerlocke Stadium, right?” Leon said, not looking up. “If I go over there and… maybe I can get rid of it before the Darkest Day even happens.”
My eyes sunk back to the crossword puzzle. Engaging with yet another ridiculous plan was pointless, but so was this entire ordeal, and at least he had made an attempt to reach out. I sighed, collected all my remaining fortitude into a forgiving smile, and looked up again.
“Eternatus drives the power plant, right?”
Leon nodded eagerly, eyes still trailed on the paper-strip. “It attracts the Dmax particles that heat the water so the steam from the cooling can— argh!”
When he realised the flaw in his thinking, Leon ruffled his hair in frustration, making it even more of a mess than it had been before. I cocked my head to the side, watching him. Lately, his plans had been getting worse and worse.
After some time of reconsideration, he looked up, meeting my eyes. “Okay, no getting rid of it, then. Rose wanted me to hold on to it all along, so I’ll do that.” His tone was almost stubborn, and I knew he just wanted me to agree on something, but…
My gaze trailed off as memories of that fateful day back in August twenty-five years from now resurfaced. The sheer and utter chaos as the midday sky had darkened into deep shades of poisonous black.
“With what?” I asked, and it was a genuine question.
Nothing had worked back then. No matter the tier of pokeballs he had tried, it broke free regardless. Its attacks were too strong, every hit was more than enough to be fatal and if it hadn’t been for Hop, I wouldn’t sit here today. It simply couldn’t be contained. It was dead-set on devouring us and all of Galar after that, it—
A hasty dull sound pulled me out of my thoughts and when I looked up, I noticed the salty taste in my mouth and the tears in the corners of my eyes. I blinked them away when I saw that Leon had got up. He was already at the Center’s door.
“Where are you going?” I asked, alarmed. The tower fell over with a terrifying noise as I stood up and ran over to him.
His hands were insecure while he tied the laces on his boots. Desperate to not meet my gaze, he took two deep, shaking breaths and I realised I wasn’t the only one fighting tears right now.
“Catching some air.” He was so eager to get away from here, he almost fell over himself when he got up. He hadn’t even put his jacket on.
I quickly rewound the last few words in my head, then it hit me.
«Oh, no!»
“I didn’t mean it like that!” I pleaded. But my words didn’t reach him any more as the door fell shut between us, throwing one last snowy gust in my face.
* * *
January 28th 1994, 11am.
“Hello,” I greeted no one in particular as I entered Kurt’s home.
No one answered, but it didn‘t surprise me. I had seen the old man in the backyard tending to his apricorn trees and his daughter had been at the market half an hour ago. Poor thing. She already looked exhausted, and the kids were only waking up.
I put the wicker basket down and got out of my shoes and into some slippers, more than happy to have the house to myself. Laundry time was my time, and I would defend it to the grave if I had to.
Leon was probably still angry at me for exactly that reason. After our squabble in the morning, he had been quite salty. I got that he wanted to make himself useful, especially today, when Kon had nothing to do for him. But I wouldn’t give up my personal highlight of the week because he was bored.
My personal highlight was doing laundry. How low had I sunken?
I picked up the basket again and made my way over through the living room and kitchen and into the utility cellar. Everything here smelled old, telling the stories of generations of people that had lived here before. Their marks couldn’t quite be erased, no matter how hard one would scrub. But as soon as I opened the cellar door, the heavenly scent of fresh, warm cotton embraced me and I rejoiced in the feeling of cleanliness.
I loved this room. The tiles here were white and clean, the shelves were not made from wood but from metal. Even the colourful array of cleaning agents stacked on top of each other looked cheerful in the monotone mix of browns that coloured my every day. And in the corner were two machines, so modern they almost looked alien in this place — a fully automatic washing machine and a tumble dryer. The only ones in Azalea.
The air was still damp, and I opened the small window to let some air inside. With the brittle scent of winter and the smell of freshly chopped wood came the strange melodic coos that Lapras used to communicate.
«So that’s what he’s doing now,» I thought. A few meters above me, Kurt’s backyard seemed to have become the stage for a familiar drama again. Lapras in his small pond, shifting around uncomfortably, while Leon stared at him from the edge, equally uncomfortable.
Never in my entire life had I thought I‘d see the day when Leon was unable to bond with a pokemon. But now it had become so obvious even Kurt had stopped bothering him.
But that was none of my problems.
I opened the dryer and there it was — the best smell in the universe — discount Rawst berry and Wepear flower conditioner. I took out the uppermost sheet and pressed it against my nose, soaking in the scent.
It was not my favourite flavour, not by far. But it was mine. It had taken me a special order in the shop and plenty of ridicule, but now that small piece of luxury was mine and mine alone.
«That bottle is going to last you three years, small as you are, girl. You should put on some weight.» Urgh… old people…
Sara was way too old-fashioned to use conditioner and her machines matched their owner in that regard. So now I carried my laundry and a few hundred yen across the village every week. It was worth it.
I took another deep breath, getting lost in the fluffy, soft, artificial scent, flying through clouds and over green summer fields of berry trees. It was a promise of a life somewhere else. A place where time had moved past 1940 and of people that brought a fresh breeze of excitement whenever they entered the room.
Here in Azalea, everything was gloomy, damp and subdued. The colours, the smells, the people. Many of them washed their clothes by hand, and I could even see why. Their old ways had kept them — and us — alive during this winter.
From preserving all kinds of foods, to growing them themselves and upcycling every last scrap of material. I had seen and learned skills I thought would die along with my great-grandparents. So it was understandable that these resourceful people here didn‘t see the need for modern things like conditioners and tumble-dryers.
But I wasn’t one of those people. Somewhere out there, at this point in time, other people also used this conditioner, and that gave me at least a bit of hope.
Taking one last breath, I folded the shirt and put it in the basket. As I sorted through the drum, separating shirts, socks, shorts and the like, I wondered who these people were and if I would fit in with them any better than I did here.
I didn’t like Rawst and Wepear. I just knew the people of Azalea didn’t use it, so it had gained instant sympathy. If pressed, I might have answered that Pecha, Mago or Pinap were my favourite flavours, but to be honest, I wasn’t sure any longer.
Fragments of Leon’s voice came through the open window, flat even though he tried to sound encouraging and friendly. I picked up the basket.
I had lost him already. Maybe I had lost myself here, too.
* * *
January 31st 1994, 4pm.
A dull pain drew through my neck and up the back of my head, culminating along the parting of my hair and flared up whenever even one strand moved. The water in the sink was getting cold, sending shivers up my arms. But I knew that as soon as I turned on the faucet, that sound would drive me up the walls. My feet felt heavy, my joints tired, my eyes small, and my nose stuffy.
In short, I was cranky.
But there was one source of discomfort that blew everything else out of the water: Leon. Instead of letting me suffer in peace, he hovered around me like an overprotective Orbeetle. And just like a bug, he was fast, loud and overall annoying.
“Wanna hang out later?” he asked with way too much energy while he reached across, grabbing one of the last plates that still needed drying.
I shrugged, causing my neck to protest with all its might.
“Farfetch’d and I found a cool spot in the forest. There’s a cave-in that connects straight to the Slowpoke Well. It’s a super cool trip, so if you want to...”
I shook my head as carefully as possible while I drained the water from the sink and grabbed the second table cloth. As if I wanted to leave the house today. If I finished the dishes, I could count myself lucky.
Since I finished my work in the archive, there weren’t many long-term projects around the Center and Sara struggled to find work for me from time to time. On any other day, this thought might have scared me. My work here was what paid the bills and kept me from losing my mind completely. Today, however, I was glad for the lack of tasks.
I picked up the bowl that had by now drained and rubbed the last droplets of water off it. Then I reached up to place it back on its shelf.
“Or have you seen that massive pile of firewood over at the market? I bet we could ask if we can help out there. No, wait, let me do that!”
He sat — no, slammed — his plate onto the counter and the sharp sound of porcelain on metal shot waves of pain through my brain. I flinched violently, letting go of the bowl in my hands. But instead of the lethal sound of glass hitting the floor, I was only met with an “Oh, careful there!”
When I opened my eyes again, Leon had already stowed the bowl away, his bright smile beaming. It was too much.
I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the door. He had resisted all my previous, gentler attempts to get him off of me, so now this would have to suffice. I shoved him into the common room and blocked the doorway with my body.
“For the love of god, Leon, let me finish the dishes! Wait here, play with the pokemon, anything! Just leave me alone!”
I slammed the door shut before he could open his mouth, but even through the rice-paper, the “I just wanted to help” sounded defeated.
The commotion had left a disturbance behind, almost as if the noises and movements still lingered in the now quiet room like ripples on a lake. I waited for those waves to fade while on the other side of the door, Leon’s steps dragged away.
Finally. For the first time today, I had space to breathe.
I opened the window to let some fresh air in while I finished my work, drying and stowing away the last tableware, cleaning the sink and reorganising the things in the fridge so I could fit the leftovers in there. With every gust of wind pushing in through the window, Leon’s suffocating presence faded.
Was that how Dad had felt whenever he had gone for one of his walks?
After I had finished everything, I stood for another ten minutes, leaning against the counter and collecting myself. Then I headed into the living room.
Leon sat on the couch, feet tucked up and eyes somewhere on the path between here and eternity. The thousand-yard stare I hadn’t seen in so long was back, and even though he certainly tried, he couldn’t shake himself out of it.
Skiploom scurried around, torn between antagonising Furret and chasing Mareep’s tail sphere, but all of them knew best to keep their distance.
I sat down on the low coffee table across from him. He couldn’t meet my eyes and I didn’t want to meet his. So we both looked at our own undetermined points somewhere between the tatami mats.
“I’m trying, Hannah, I really am.” His voice had a pleading side to it I had never heard before. Well, I had, once.
“I know.”
There was no longer any reason to make up. By now, we both knew that it was a waste of time and effort.
Leon shuffled around and, now back in reality, faced me directly and with the utmost conviction he could muster. I returned his gaze.
“You mustn’t leave me. Promise me this!”
Exhausted, cold, and sad. This was definitely what Dad had felt when I asked the same of him. And though I had promised myself that I would do better than him, I sighed before I shook my head.
* * *
February 2nd 1994, 9pm.
I could barely contain my laughter to keep up the fake belligerency. “Okay, but having a 500-year-old demon seal in your room is not old-fashioned?”
“A what?” Leon looked between me and the man on the other side of the phone’s screen.
“Those eye-shaped engravings,” I quickly explained. “Haven’t you seen them around?”
Leon’s horrified expression told me he remembered them, and I turned back to the screen, meeting Morty’s equally confronting grin. For a while he stared at me, saying nothing. Too late, I identified the mischief in his expression.
“So, what happened that good old Sara we—”
With a unisonous scream, both Leon and I darted for the mute-button, and cut him off just in time as Sara walked past us.
“Dang, Morty, we are not alone here,” I whispered into the earpiece, but the smug smile on his face confirmed all my suspicions.
The elderly nurse stopped and shot us an inquiring look. And while all the blood in my body rushed to my face and reduced me to a stuttering mess for a few seconds, Leon got up and, under the pretense of looking for some drinks, got her away. I internally thanked him while also swearing revenge against Morty.
He and Rotom had a lively discussion, so I unmuted them. Judging by Morty’s expression and Rotom’s last sentences, it had just finished explaining in vivid detail how the muting was on our side and that it could do nothing against it. Served him right.
“Hello, Hana!” the upbeat poltergeist screamed, and I greeted it back before it vanished into the circuits of the phone. Rotom seemed to thrive in Ecruteak.
“So, what happened?” Morty asked, this time more seriously.
I collected myself and shot him one last glare. I would not forget about this. “Nothing much.”
A cold can of ice-tea bumped against my arm and I quickly thanked Leon, while he pulled his chair back next to me.
“I just wanted to get that cabinet out of the way. But it turned out that covering that thing — seal — up is a crime down here.”
“Well, yeah,” Morty said with a playful tone while I reached for an empty glass. “How is it supposed to protect you from demons if it stares at a cabinet back side?”
Leon shrugged and opened his can of soda. The carbon dioxide escaping the lid made a hissing sound. “I’ve covered the one in my room up ages ago and been sleeping sound ever since.”
Morty watched us for a second or two, superimposed boredom covering up his usual, unreadable expression. “Interesting. I know who I’m going to blame when the cat demon destroys Azalea. You guys better skip town.”
I briefly stopped pouring my tea to make a face at him and from Leon’s mocking laughter I could tell he was about as amused as I was. Morty seemed to be on a streak today.
But then Leon stretched himself in his chair, smiling and having already forgotten about the jab. “You know exactly that we’ll be bothering you next, right?”
“Aha,” Morty hummed, mirroring Leon’s movement. “Do that. And then I’ll give you two a proper lecture on why Kaibyō banishment plays an important part in Johtonian folklore.”
My eyes sunk down to my tea, where the warm air started to condense around the cool glass. All at once, the room felt incredibly quiet. The sudden shift in the mood escaped no one. After an uncomfortable moment, Morty spoke up again.
“But seriously, is that the plan?”
For another heartbeat, I stared at my glass, while time seemed to come to a grinding halt. Then I noticed movement in the corner of my eyes. But even with Leon nodding, I couldn’t bring myself to do the same.
“You know you are always welcome,” Morty said while Rotom flickered across the screen in celebration. Coming from him, it sounded like it was a mere trifle.
It took a conscious effort to conjure up my voice. “That is, as long as we aren’t disturbing you or anything.”
“Don’t worry. You’re not the first, you’ll not be the last. Bother away.”
“Thank you!” If I could, I’d crawl under the table right now.
Morty sighed. “You two would rather die on the spot than accept a helping hand, do you?” He wasn’t entirely wrong there. “If it makes you feel better, I’m going to tell you I need some help around the house.”
“Really?” The way both Leon and I sounded equally desperate was concerning.
Morty buried his head in his hands and sighed. This time, the exasperation wasn’t even exaggerated.
With one deep inhale, he got up. “You guys wait a minute, I’ll be right back.”
And just like that, he left Leon and me alone with ourselves. When his foot-tapping got too unbearable in the silence of the Center, I turned to him.
“Is that the plan?” I asked.
Leon intently picked at a loose thread on his sleeve, then nodded. He looked as lost as I felt. “Do you have anything better?”
I shook my head. Leon went back to his sleeve.
“Me neither,” he said, voice flat.
I turned back, tracing the rim of my glass with my finger. So I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t think past spring, even if I tried. By now, the world beyond the snowy forest and barred mountain-passes felt foreign. But then again, so did this town.
When Morty returned, I looked up, relieved to have some distractions from my disjointed thoughts. “For starters, Leon,” he said while sitting down. “You could help me identify what that is.”
“That’s a stack of paper,” Leon answered with a deadpan expression that Morty promptly returned while he turned the papers to face the camera.
“Oh, that’s a self-assessment sheet for the League.” Leon lit up with excitement. “And it’s so thin! And ancient.”
“You call that thin?” Morty was far from amused about any jokes, and with a stare that could call into question the entirety of existence, he simply asked: “Why?”
“So that—” Leon stopped his enthusiasm mid sentence, then turned to me. “Hannah should technically not hear about this.”
I only raised my eyebrows. He gave in within a few seconds.
“Okay, so it’s so you can determine the relative strength of your pokemon.” Leon turned to look between Morty and me. “See, Hannah, in official League battles like the circuit, the battles are at a set level range for the defender. Would be kinda mean if you’d have to face the full power of the Gym Leader’s team on your first badge, wouldn’t it?
“So, that’s where this self-assessment comes in. You run your pokemon through a number of tests so you can gauge their power level and from there you calculate back.
“When you get a challenger with, say, one badge, you go look up what level range you’re supposed to have and then adjust your team accordingly. But to do that, you have to know what level your pokemon are at, so you get a feeling for after how many hits you call it a day and such.”
Morty frowned over his papers. “It says here ‘number of hits withstood’. That could be anything.”
“That’s why you have modifiers,” Leon said, unfazed by the interruption. “Look a bit further down. There should be something about if it’s a special or physical move, the damage type modifier, and what level the attacker is at.”
Leon turned to me while Morty flipped through the pages. “Rose made me fill out one of those things by hand once, so I’d learn to appreciate the computer-aided methods. And man, do I appreciate them now.”
When I didn’t respond, his smile turned into a curious expression, matching mine. “What?”
“You sound like you do this a lot.”
Leon nodded, smiling. “I do. The Championship Cup and the competitive scene are League battles after all.” He sighed. “See, that’s why you shouldn’t hear this.”
I took a sip of my ice-tea, not breaking eye-contact. “So you would have — what’s it called? — scaled our match? What about going all out then?”
“Capped. And hey, those are the rules.” He shrugged. “Also, I’m the one with ten years experience and home-field advantage.”
I wanted to say something, but Morty interrupted. “Here: Tier 2 attacks. Examples include Thunderbolt and Thunderpunch. Getting hit by those is a monumental difference for Gengar.”
“That’s why you distinguish between special and physical attack, defence and moves,” Leon quickly explained before turning back to me. The curses Morty whispered under his breath were audible even here.
I met Leon’s inquiring gaze, way too tired to do anything meaningful with my expression, while I processed this new information. “Capped, huh? What would you have capped our match at?”
A smile came back on his face and his eyes lit up. “The Championship Cup is at a careful 75. So Flare Blitz is out of the picture — sadly. When we…”
Within one second, the spark in his eyes died and got lost in the emptiness. Champ Leon had vanished again and left only a husk behind. I put my glass away, but before I could reach out to him, he had already got up.
“Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” With that, he disappeared into one of the side rooms, out of view. And if I hadn’t watched him the entire time, I could have sworn there were two Leons around.
I looked at the closed door for a long second, then turned back to the screen, burying my head in my hands.
“I can’t deal with this any longer.”
Only when the echo coming off the walls of the phonebooth struck my tired ears did I realise I said it out loud. And that I also didn’t care.
“Neither does he.” Morty’s emotionless voice broke the silence that stretched itself over the room, only for it to return soon after. The rustling sound when he put his papers away did little to keep it at bay.
“Look, don’t get worked up over it.” I could feel his eyes piercing me, even through the screen, and for a moment I was sure he could hear the shaking in my breath. “He’ll bounce back.”
I shook my head again, but the silence and the emptiness made it hard to move.
Back and forth and back and forth. Lately, Leon was only bouncing from one high to the next low and no matter how well he hid it, he inevitably pulled me with him.
Morty sighed. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to tell you.”
“How long?” I looked up and was met with his calm gaze. Something was going through his mind, but when I registered movement behind me, he just shrugged.
The other Leon was back again and regarded me with a wide smile.
Watching him closer, I could see that his face was still a bit wet. How long had he been gone? At most, half a minute. How could a splash of cold water turn his entire demeanour around so quickly?
Morty picked up the papers and put on an accusatory tone. “There is no distinction between special and physical moves.”
“What?” Leon sat down and leaned forward. “But there should be…”
If given the chance, Leon would have climbed through the phone to take that catalogue apart. So while an eager discussion about special and physical moves emerged, I grabbed my drink and made a bit of space so the two could talk more freely.
Over the winter, Morty had grown more than against any Gym Leader position. Now he only struggled with the thought of having to decline an opportunity like that.
Whereas Leon was the polar opposite. He explained the process to Morty with a patience and passion that I had forgotten he ever possessed. But that was the young professional pokemon trainer that Leon was shaping up to be, back when we were still in Galar. Before…
I clutched my glass tighter and tried to concentrate on the cold sensation against my palms. Somehow, focusing on something made thinking the unthinkable easier. Flashes of purple and black flickered in the corners of my memory.
Before the Darkest Day ended a lot of lives all at once. Charizard, Aegislash, Dragapult, Haxourus and Seismitoad were gone, and we were absolutely out of ideas on how to bring them back. And where they were turned to stone in an instance, their trainer had faded over time, leaving behind a ghost of himself that was unreachable and untouchable.
But was it that? Right now, Leon was here. He explained League protocols as if he had no care in the world. He was here. But why was I feeling like I was drifting through this silence, away, alone even though Leon and Morty were right next to me?
Somewhere so far away was a familiar voice.
He sounded so much like his brother. And if I tried, if I really tried, I could see Hop in him. Leon’s hair had grown longer over the winter, and most of the time he couldn’t be bothered to take care of it. But if I imagined that away, if I imagined him smaller and… and… more likeable…
No!
Maybe it wasn’t him who had changed. Maybe it was me. Maybe I had drifted so far away that I couldn’t reach him any longer. But then again, did I ever reach him?
Leon was always on a pedestal. Not even Hop was close to him any longer. So who was I to assume that? And Hop was the only reason I had put up with him. But now I wasn’t sure if I could give him his brother back at all.
That person talking to Morty on the phone was a stranger.
For months we had been exchanging words, but never talked. Whenever I had tried to ask him what was bothering him, he had either avoided the question or given me a nondescript “Nothing.” And so I didn’t tell him either, because what else was there left to say in the silence after ‘nothing.’
Even though I wanted to ask him what happened at the forest shrine or what he meant with the ‘stupid things,’ I couldn’t bring myself to open up like that.
For one, because I wasn’t sure what had happened myself, but mostly because mentioning our argument would open up those scars. They had not healed over time. Even though we claimed to have put the issue behind us. But whatever those words sealed away, all the apologies and the questions that were never said or asked, they hung between us like a dark, drooping cloud.
So no wonder no one of us had any better plans. Morty was the only thing that connected us and Ecruteak the last goal that we shared. Because, after all, if I couldn’t bring Leon back, there was no need to hang around this person with his mood-swings and his unpredictable bounces.
No!
This felt so familiar. So awfully familiar. I would not let that happen again.
“Hey, Hannah?” Even through the unfathomable distance, the silence and the wisps left behind by the Darkest Day, Leon’s voice was gentle, and his eyes caring. “What’s up? You don’t look too good.”
I blinked a few times. The way back into reality was a long one. My tea had got warm and the cool tether that kept me from drifting away was almost gone. I straightened up on my chair and looked between Morty and him, desperately hoping that one of them might do the trick instead.
“Nothing, don’t worry. Go on!” The words came almost instinctively.
Leon again looked at me for a bit too long, and though he had his innocent and naïve persona back, that look pierced right through me. I gripped my glass tighter and even twisted my mouth to mimic a smile. After what felt like forever, he turned back.
“So, like I said, it’s your choice,” Leon said, back again in his lively discussion that I had lost track of an eternity ago. “But you know my take.”
«It’s nothing, Hana. Nothing.»
* * *
February 14th 1994, 7am.
Dusk still lay over Azalea when I stepped outside this morning, but up high, the sun already tinted the mountaintops orange. Soon, its light would reach the village.
With one swift motion, I catapulted Skiploom into the stiff breeze. A happy squeal accompanied her as she drifted higher, greeting the sun long before we down here could.
Eevee nestled herself in the collar of my jacket, while Furret darted ahead to the collier’s low house, where smoke was already coming from the many chimneys. Mareep quickly chased after her — as soon as I opened the Center’s front door again that he somehow closed on himself.
Up ahead, Skiploom’s Sunny Day almost challenged the first light in intensity as the sun reciprocated her greeting.
From across the town came a gleeful bleating sound when Mareep bumped into Leon and received his first pats of the day. He and I exchanged a tired but hopeful smile. So he had heard the radio as well.
When Skiploom sailed down again, her dandelion flower had turned into soft cotton. I took in her fresh scent, pressing the overjoyed pokemon against my chest.
With the early sunlight and the smell of morning dew, spring had arrived.
