K_S
Unrepentent Giovanni and Rocket fan
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Fractional: The Rules of the Game
AN: A Lillie/Gio fanfic, set in “Transversal”, basically I’m popping some notes out of point/list format and threading them into a story and am trying for a new format as well.
Summary:
Introduction: Pokecenter (redacted) is having technical difficulties, please stand by...
“I want to show you something.”
So said the most unlikely trainer in the Alola region.
Of course, it wasn’t anything pretty, or near. No glorious sunrise, or pretty public statue, such showings would have been too tame for Alola’s sole Kantoian trainer. No, when he wanted to show her something, it was announced over dinner at the town’s pokecenter, and there was no moving to his bout of show and tell, at all.
He also didn’t dig out his phone to show her… whatever. Unlike every other teen in Alola, Sakaki didn’t have a phone with a camera. He’d murdered… well exorcised…. the ghost from his machine, broke the frame and sold the parts for money ages ago. The calculated destruction of the tech had been a step up from his rant of shoving the thing into a blender, and letting it get purrayed, but regardless of how it was gone his Professor gifted tech was a thing of the past.
So he wasn’t going to show her something normal like a GIF or PNG or meme.
And he wasn’t going to be prompt about it.
Giovanni Sakaki didn’t elaborate on his show and tell to be, he just went back to his meal, and she, after a moment, realized that he wasn’t going to, did the same. Experience had taught her that pushing, or nagging, would get her nothing, so she didn’t.
And that wasn’t the weirdest thing about him, him making her wait.
Sakaki was just weird, coming and going.
He wasn’t odd because he was old (at least he wasn’t outwardly old, he acted and talked ancient on his off days, but he looked fifteen no matter what he did to his clothes and hair to look more mature) and it wasn’t just that he was an off islander. She was too. Despite living in Alola most of her life, she was as much an outsider as he was and she wasn’t a fifth as weird as he was.
No, his strangeness went deeper than not being from here. It ran deeper than his dogged insistence that he never accumulated to Island life.
If asked, Lillie would say that Sakaki’s strangeness was rooted in how he treated people. He never showed interest in anyone. People weren’t a means to an end, a philosophy she was quite used to considering her own mother, and part of this journey was not living like that. To be better than Mother, as childish as that sounded.
No, Sakaki’s feelings went much farther than Machiavelli’s, or even her Mother’s work.
Or perhaps it was best to say, they ran shallower.
People, to the Kantoian trainer, were less than scenery. Humans, trainers, and ‘mon, were meant to be plowed through. They were less than living. At the core of Sakaki’s strangeness was that he acted as if the world was a stage… and he had no interest in the play on production. He was trying to storm off the set, but couldn’t find the exit, and kept getting dragged from scene to scene, very much against his will.
There were furrows that marked his path from town to town, and a trail of destruction from both the trainer and his ‘mon when anyone tried to get him to do anything.
And, while Sakaki’s actions and views were horrifying, and alluded to a mental sickness that Lillie couldn’t even begin to understand, the tamer horror of it all was that Lillie, traveling with the dark haired trainer, was starting to wonder if he wasn’t right.
Suffice to say, she wasn’t sleeping well at night and hadn’t been since the very start.
It’d taken her weeks to convince him that she was as real as he was. And when he finally stopped acting like she was a figment of his imagination, he’d opened up. Tolerated her “journeying” with him, saying “her reasons were her own” and being patiently apathetic towards her motives.
As long as she kept up it was fine, and if she chipped in towards living expenses and gave him information, all the better.
It’d taken time but eventually, he’d staggered from indifference to a thin veneer of compassion, capped off in full the first time she’d gotten sick. And he’d stayed by her side, nursing her to health with the bitter patience of a man having done this many times before.
And so their co-“journey” went. And his strangeness grew and grew.
He had six pokeballs on his belt and was allowed only six ‘mon by a power Lillie Aether didn’t understand. She’d pooh-poohed it when he explained it when she hadn’t believed, and with a shrug, he had agreed.
“I know I sound like a lunatic” and that’d been that.
There were resources for catching and training ‘mon, easy-peasy things she could use if she had things to catch. The technology was meant to be universal, and thus usable by those younger than ten…
And all catching and storage tech crashed in masse, the second Sakaki breathed near a keyboard or touchscreen.
At first, it was understandable. The mainframe was down for repairs, someone had dropped water on the machine and the Center was waiting for a replacement…. And the first few times, it’d made sense, but come center five… and Lillie was having her doubts.
Then come pokecenter number six, 'center six changed the tenor of all of those earlier “inconveniences” and “misunderstandings” casting each “accident” into a whole new, horrifying light.
They’d had dinner, show and tell forgotten almost as soon as it was brought up, they’d been at the town’s center since right before sunset and the view outside was wild and a breath surreal. She ate across from him; her with her chopsticks, him with his dogged insistent of using more civilized utensils of a fork and spoon. Their meal was as tasteless as was the ‘Center’s norm, and was only made edible with stolen seasonings, those they’d set between them, taking what they wanted from the pile. Both noted what was low and planned to hit up a nearby restaurant to stock up before running their errands after breakfast.
As for how they ate, it was an old argument they’d worn down over the weeks they traveled together.
Once he was sure she was real.
It had started with impassioned speeches about cultural differences. Or rather, he’d bragged about how superior Kanto was, and taunted her until she’d stuttered denials. The shock had faded in repetition, his abrasiveness in those moments had rubbed her shyness raw, and she’d startled both of them the first time she’d met fire with fire.
That’d taken weeks, and he’d liked her more… slightly more… confrontational side. Teasing and tweaking her until they’d run the subject down. Sure she felt reasonably comfortable talking to him after that he dared to broach other topics. Sometimes leading the conversation, and, now knowing what to look for, Lillie recognized when he wanted her to lead instead.
Utensils were now a closed topic, except when they had ramen. Then, to spite her quiet self, Lillie’d scraped up enough familiarity to tease him. Poking and prodding him with a pair of ‘sticks until he snapped, taking the utensils and chucking them at the first opportunity. He’d come back from throwing out the most recent pair, the hunch of his shoulders as he settled and the not-so-subtle tip to his posture (away from her, towards something behind) told Lillie today was a “neither of them talk day”.
Which was fine by her.
They’d walked a lot. She’d done a ton of research at the local library and found nothing useful, and from his grumbles when they got their dinner she knew that the Island’s Trail Captain had proven elusive yet again.
Sometimes when things were bad it was best not to talk, so Lille was content to not bring anything up at all. Swirling in another packet of soy sauce, Lillie consoled herself that tomorrow was another day.
“What time is it?”
A glance at her wrist watch, a sporty sleek thing “commandeered” from some sports shop two towns back, lit at her tap. A pretty sky blue bracketed by a sleek green frame. She read the numbers off after she finished her bite, having been raised better than to talk with her mouth full.
“So it’s been two hours?”
Having not paid attention when they came in Lillie shrugged, and left him to the complicated things, like math.
“You’re infuriating sometimes, did you at least notice if the brain-dead trainer attached to the Center’s computer has actually moved since we got in here?”
Having been interested in finding a seat to enjoy the pretty view of out. No, Lillie had not noticed much of anything. Hadn’t cared. Not that she was going to confess that.
So Lilie stood, pushing her meal aside to get up. Though it took getting on her tiptoes, she managed to get a peek at the line. The boy and his awful blue and green striped shirt might not have been there when they came in, but she’d noticed the ugly shirt at the front of the line when she last went to the bathroom… and that’d been ages ago. He hadn’t moved a hair since he’d gotten to the front.
And it’d been long enough that the kid’s beady-eyed wingul was napping on his shoulder, and what the younger trainer was doing was weird. She had to hop a little, but even from here she could see the screen was flicking back and forth… between two screens… and doing nothing else besides flipping between those two screens.
And the people behind the wingul trainer weren’t doing anything about it, just staring blankly at the air in front of them, like breathing, unblnking, manikins.
Sitting with a heavy thump, Lillie nodded. And it was a wonder that Sakaki could see it, as he’d slumped into the table in some mute motion of utter misery as she described… everything.
“You think he’s broke... like the professor?”
Poor Kukui who’s very personality had devolved, from a vibrant borderline madman of enthusiasm to… a posturing sham that said inspirational lines, trained new hatched rockruff, and did nothing else.
“Let’s find out.”
With that Sakaki stood, marched to the desk, and shoved the kid out of the way. Tucking the portable computer close he hauled the clunky grey laptop and its pokeball transporter attachment to their table. Lillie wasn’t quite done eating, but on returning Sakaki shoveled everything off the edge, abusing the world’s perchance for ignoring him and ruining her last nibble of dinner.
Lillie furrowed her brows and glared at him. It wasn’t much but he’d known she was mad, even without her saying a word.
“They’ll pick it up, it’s why they have help.”
Not the point, so she told him because he was stupid like that sometimes and didn’t get simple things, like not being mean, or how to make reparations.
“You owe me dessert.”
Sometimes you had to give the dark-haired trainer a firm hint.
“I spared you an oversaturation of sal-“
“Dessert.”
Sakaki sighed, and nodded. Point received if not understood, he’d do as she said if only to make her get off his case.
“Was he almost done?” Lillie wondered, not quite protesting, but not quite going along with him, because doing that would have been wrong.
Sakaki’s black eyes flicked at her, considered her and her moralizing, and with a huff, he unwound the bound cord that he’d looped around the tech, and hunted up a power socket to plug the thing in.
“Don’t know, don’t care.”
And considering the kid was still standing at the front of the line, wingul napping, staring blankly at nothing, fingers flicking over a screen that wasn’t there, Lillie decided that for her sanities sake she probably shouldn’t look at the desk, line, or anyone else for the rest of the night.
Flicking the purloined tech open, she watched it light up when Sakaki plugged it in. And, curiously, instead of the familiar, sweet, chime, it made a low clunk as it came to life. He came up, the plug in a table leg of all the silly things, to see her brushing off crumbs from its audio ports.
Sakaki cracked a near benign smirk at her housekeeping and set his personal, folding phone from the dark ages besides the laptop.
Settling back in his chair, Sakaki turned the device so it was between the two of them, so clearly this was going to be the “thing she had to see”. And knowing him it wasn’t going to be something as benign as a skitty video. Still, she settled in and waited while he twiddled the wire one last time, then, with a melodramatic crick of his knuckles, set his hands to the keyboard to type.
That’s when reality decided to “nope” out of the pokecenter.
The keypad turned intangible under Sakaki’s hands. Shifting from solid to mist in a blink, it stayed in its familiar frame, even in the same shape, but the whole of it, from keys to base to wires, had somehow slipped from the third dimension to second with no one the wiser.
And no one noticed, the keyboard, her shriek, or Sakaki’s fingers getting cut off by the solid seeming metal…
That wasn’t… solid?
She’d recoiled from the table as if burnt. Knocking her chair back even. And again, no one noticed.
Except Sakaki. He looked up from fighting with the impossibility that was the pokecenter tech, fingertips grey tinted and sinking into solid electronics, acting for all the world as if she were overreacting.
One moment passed, became two, then seeing she wasn’t coming back, he rolled his eyes, then called her over.
The little pat on the table was a mite… insulting.. and she glared at him, dropping the hand over her chest to better glower at him.
His smirk and follow-up pat pat of the table’s edge left Lillie with the overwhelming urge to bite him, or maybe talk Beedrill into biting him, and she hadn’t bit anyone since she was three years old.
Lillie returned to her seat, shaking a little, and Sakaki, insufferable trainer he was, was underreacting because he could.
There were words for that type of… ung… Lillie didn’t have the words, just irritation, and a very firm glare… That he ignored, though he was merciful and lifted his fingers out of the metal mist with a wince.
“This isn’t new, just a recent reoccurrence.”
It was a lame assurance, but she settled into the chair beside him, trying to steal herself.
Because if he wasn’t screaming, or freaking out, well she wouldn’t either.
Which was a lie because just couldn’t stop shaking. But at least she didn’t shake out of the chair, or run off, or scream again.
“You try.”
Lillie’s resolve to not scream was tested by the idea of touching that computer abomination. She opened her mouth, to say “wah- No!” but she was a horrible horrible sap for any request to help. Even one delivered so tersely by a man whose spirit ‘mon was something prickly, and poisonous and… And perhaps seeing the refusal from the pallor of her face, the shake to her frame, Sakaki added a please and Lillie groaned.
Because she was a sucker, and he had her pegged since day one.
Folding to her nature, seriously scan her with some trainer’s pokedex she had a nature, and that nature was Gullible, she wrapped her hand in a napkin and gripped the computer on the upper corner. Dragging the tech towards her by the screen.
It didn’t sink into the table, or turn off, or snarl, or do anything odd. Rather it scraped along as if there was nothing wrong, and though cringing with every inch she drew it closer, she wheeled it to herself and borrowing one of his forks, poked the keyboard.
It clicked.
It was a normal click, even.
And she was getting weird looks from the people around her for poking tech with a fork but she ignored that. She was learning when to ignore people when traveling with Sakaki, and this moment fell under the “ignore” category. She poked again, harder, and the Nurse behind the pokecenter’s counter barked.
“You break it you buy it!”
And since they couldn’t see, hadn’t seen, Sakaki’s fingers sinking into metal and plastic like it wasn’t there, Lillie couldn’t really explain why she was being so… weird… right then. So she didn’t.
She just unfurled her pinky finger from her off-hand and decided to sacrifice the very tippity tip to science.
In short, she did the wussiest poke ever, and the thing clicked and was solid.
If unresponsive.
She slid it back to Sakaki. Science done, for a lifetime, thanks. And she wanted to wash her hands, so bad. But doing so meant leaving, and it was like one of those horror movies where you couldn’t look away or get up even though you had to go.
Sakaki spun the device about from the top, mirroring her grip…
Or at least he meant to.
Watching glass fracture and flow away like water, losing substance and reforming as lines… that never got less creepy. There was one second before you had to blink, where you could see the electronics peal back into non-existence and the electricity snapping between the pieces turned to a hissing mist to devolve into smears to color…
She flinched into her chair after one loud crackle, while Sakkai, reached up to slam the thing closed.
And he couldn’t.
His hand passed through it, and with a frustrated gesture, asked… well ordered… her to do close the horror show of a computer.
Mainly to keep the creepy thing from happening again, Lillie obeyed.
She used the fork, because she was not touching this computer, or any computer, for anything, ever again.
“This happened before?” Because pretending like this wasn’t happening was what everyone else was doing, and Lillie’d come to accept she wasn’t like everyone else..
“It’s like sticking your hands in a ghastly.” He rasped, flexing his fingers. “Cold and burning without fire and you can feel it sloshing about you, there’s a sense of where it’s form and frame are, but there’s nothing really there…”
Then, insanely he slammed his hands through it. Not in the breaking it into pieces sort of slam, though if the laptop had been real and he’d really connected there’d of been a big dent…
His palm slammed the table; she could hear the palm slap down against the faux wood. His fingers scraped as he felt for wires, connectors, and chips. The tech sloshed in its dimensions like… like a jiggling plate of jelly, roiling between existing and not, recoiling and encasing the trainers’ calloused hands, but mercifully not actually cutting them off.
And Lillie swallowed, tied her hardest not to puke, and compromised by staring at the ceiling while staying. She couldn’t give him much. Just her company for this moment, that while happening in public, seemed deeply private. It was an illusion of privacy, an illusion of safety, solidarity, while reality broke before them in such a small way.
And it was all she could do after all.
AN: A Lillie/Gio fanfic, set in “Transversal”, basically I’m popping some notes out of point/list format and threading them into a story and am trying for a new format as well.
Summary:
He was Alola's only Kantoian trainer, and insane as it seemed he couldn't catch, couldn't trade, and was bound to a six 'mon limit even when kids as young as eight were tossing 'mon in and out of the system without a worry in the world.
She'd asked why and he'd told her his truth.
The LEGENDS wouldn't let him.
And it'd seemed insane, but she was used to Sakaki being a little insane. Considering she was on a quest that seemed crazy Lillie decided to be the bigger person and rolled with it.
When he decided to show her why things weren't working, she rather wished he wouldn't. But unseeing wasn't an option, she'd seen reality roil and refold itself to inconvenience him, and had he pushed, Lillie was honestly scared it might very well rise up to kill him.
Luckily he was content to stop, once sure she believed him, and he had admitted that "that was enough for now"
Enough of what? Enough to show her the first rule of the game.
Don't break the rules.
And he'd proved himself crazier than her, promising he was going to do it again, the right way at the perfect time to bring the whole game tumbling down.
Whether she tagged along or not, or fell into the disasters he'd trigger, that was for her to decide.
She'd asked why and he'd told her his truth.
The LEGENDS wouldn't let him.
And it'd seemed insane, but she was used to Sakaki being a little insane. Considering she was on a quest that seemed crazy Lillie decided to be the bigger person and rolled with it.
When he decided to show her why things weren't working, she rather wished he wouldn't. But unseeing wasn't an option, she'd seen reality roil and refold itself to inconvenience him, and had he pushed, Lillie was honestly scared it might very well rise up to kill him.
Luckily he was content to stop, once sure she believed him, and he had admitted that "that was enough for now"
Enough of what? Enough to show her the first rule of the game.
Don't break the rules.
And he'd proved himself crazier than her, promising he was going to do it again, the right way at the perfect time to bring the whole game tumbling down.
Whether she tagged along or not, or fell into the disasters he'd trigger, that was for her to decide.
Introduction: Pokecenter (redacted) is having technical difficulties, please stand by...
“I want to show you something.”
So said the most unlikely trainer in the Alola region.
Of course, it wasn’t anything pretty, or near. No glorious sunrise, or pretty public statue, such showings would have been too tame for Alola’s sole Kantoian trainer. No, when he wanted to show her something, it was announced over dinner at the town’s pokecenter, and there was no moving to his bout of show and tell, at all.
He also didn’t dig out his phone to show her… whatever. Unlike every other teen in Alola, Sakaki didn’t have a phone with a camera. He’d murdered… well exorcised…. the ghost from his machine, broke the frame and sold the parts for money ages ago. The calculated destruction of the tech had been a step up from his rant of shoving the thing into a blender, and letting it get purrayed, but regardless of how it was gone his Professor gifted tech was a thing of the past.
So he wasn’t going to show her something normal like a GIF or PNG or meme.
And he wasn’t going to be prompt about it.
Giovanni Sakaki didn’t elaborate on his show and tell to be, he just went back to his meal, and she, after a moment, realized that he wasn’t going to, did the same. Experience had taught her that pushing, or nagging, would get her nothing, so she didn’t.
And that wasn’t the weirdest thing about him, him making her wait.
Sakaki was just weird, coming and going.
He wasn’t odd because he was old (at least he wasn’t outwardly old, he acted and talked ancient on his off days, but he looked fifteen no matter what he did to his clothes and hair to look more mature) and it wasn’t just that he was an off islander. She was too. Despite living in Alola most of her life, she was as much an outsider as he was and she wasn’t a fifth as weird as he was.
No, his strangeness went deeper than not being from here. It ran deeper than his dogged insistence that he never accumulated to Island life.
If asked, Lillie would say that Sakaki’s strangeness was rooted in how he treated people. He never showed interest in anyone. People weren’t a means to an end, a philosophy she was quite used to considering her own mother, and part of this journey was not living like that. To be better than Mother, as childish as that sounded.
No, Sakaki’s feelings went much farther than Machiavelli’s, or even her Mother’s work.
Or perhaps it was best to say, they ran shallower.
People, to the Kantoian trainer, were less than scenery. Humans, trainers, and ‘mon, were meant to be plowed through. They were less than living. At the core of Sakaki’s strangeness was that he acted as if the world was a stage… and he had no interest in the play on production. He was trying to storm off the set, but couldn’t find the exit, and kept getting dragged from scene to scene, very much against his will.
There were furrows that marked his path from town to town, and a trail of destruction from both the trainer and his ‘mon when anyone tried to get him to do anything.
And, while Sakaki’s actions and views were horrifying, and alluded to a mental sickness that Lillie couldn’t even begin to understand, the tamer horror of it all was that Lillie, traveling with the dark haired trainer, was starting to wonder if he wasn’t right.
Suffice to say, she wasn’t sleeping well at night and hadn’t been since the very start.
It’d taken her weeks to convince him that she was as real as he was. And when he finally stopped acting like she was a figment of his imagination, he’d opened up. Tolerated her “journeying” with him, saying “her reasons were her own” and being patiently apathetic towards her motives.
As long as she kept up it was fine, and if she chipped in towards living expenses and gave him information, all the better.
It’d taken time but eventually, he’d staggered from indifference to a thin veneer of compassion, capped off in full the first time she’d gotten sick. And he’d stayed by her side, nursing her to health with the bitter patience of a man having done this many times before.
And so their co-“journey” went. And his strangeness grew and grew.
He had six pokeballs on his belt and was allowed only six ‘mon by a power Lillie Aether didn’t understand. She’d pooh-poohed it when he explained it when she hadn’t believed, and with a shrug, he had agreed.
“I know I sound like a lunatic” and that’d been that.
There were resources for catching and training ‘mon, easy-peasy things she could use if she had things to catch. The technology was meant to be universal, and thus usable by those younger than ten…
And all catching and storage tech crashed in masse, the second Sakaki breathed near a keyboard or touchscreen.
At first, it was understandable. The mainframe was down for repairs, someone had dropped water on the machine and the Center was waiting for a replacement…. And the first few times, it’d made sense, but come center five… and Lillie was having her doubts.
Then come pokecenter number six, 'center six changed the tenor of all of those earlier “inconveniences” and “misunderstandings” casting each “accident” into a whole new, horrifying light.
They’d had dinner, show and tell forgotten almost as soon as it was brought up, they’d been at the town’s center since right before sunset and the view outside was wild and a breath surreal. She ate across from him; her with her chopsticks, him with his dogged insistent of using more civilized utensils of a fork and spoon. Their meal was as tasteless as was the ‘Center’s norm, and was only made edible with stolen seasonings, those they’d set between them, taking what they wanted from the pile. Both noted what was low and planned to hit up a nearby restaurant to stock up before running their errands after breakfast.
As for how they ate, it was an old argument they’d worn down over the weeks they traveled together.
Once he was sure she was real.
It had started with impassioned speeches about cultural differences. Or rather, he’d bragged about how superior Kanto was, and taunted her until she’d stuttered denials. The shock had faded in repetition, his abrasiveness in those moments had rubbed her shyness raw, and she’d startled both of them the first time she’d met fire with fire.
That’d taken weeks, and he’d liked her more… slightly more… confrontational side. Teasing and tweaking her until they’d run the subject down. Sure she felt reasonably comfortable talking to him after that he dared to broach other topics. Sometimes leading the conversation, and, now knowing what to look for, Lillie recognized when he wanted her to lead instead.
Utensils were now a closed topic, except when they had ramen. Then, to spite her quiet self, Lillie’d scraped up enough familiarity to tease him. Poking and prodding him with a pair of ‘sticks until he snapped, taking the utensils and chucking them at the first opportunity. He’d come back from throwing out the most recent pair, the hunch of his shoulders as he settled and the not-so-subtle tip to his posture (away from her, towards something behind) told Lillie today was a “neither of them talk day”.
Which was fine by her.
They’d walked a lot. She’d done a ton of research at the local library and found nothing useful, and from his grumbles when they got their dinner she knew that the Island’s Trail Captain had proven elusive yet again.
Sometimes when things were bad it was best not to talk, so Lille was content to not bring anything up at all. Swirling in another packet of soy sauce, Lillie consoled herself that tomorrow was another day.
“What time is it?”
A glance at her wrist watch, a sporty sleek thing “commandeered” from some sports shop two towns back, lit at her tap. A pretty sky blue bracketed by a sleek green frame. She read the numbers off after she finished her bite, having been raised better than to talk with her mouth full.
“So it’s been two hours?”
Having not paid attention when they came in Lillie shrugged, and left him to the complicated things, like math.
“You’re infuriating sometimes, did you at least notice if the brain-dead trainer attached to the Center’s computer has actually moved since we got in here?”
Having been interested in finding a seat to enjoy the pretty view of out. No, Lillie had not noticed much of anything. Hadn’t cared. Not that she was going to confess that.
So Lilie stood, pushing her meal aside to get up. Though it took getting on her tiptoes, she managed to get a peek at the line. The boy and his awful blue and green striped shirt might not have been there when they came in, but she’d noticed the ugly shirt at the front of the line when she last went to the bathroom… and that’d been ages ago. He hadn’t moved a hair since he’d gotten to the front.
And it’d been long enough that the kid’s beady-eyed wingul was napping on his shoulder, and what the younger trainer was doing was weird. She had to hop a little, but even from here she could see the screen was flicking back and forth… between two screens… and doing nothing else besides flipping between those two screens.
And the people behind the wingul trainer weren’t doing anything about it, just staring blankly at the air in front of them, like breathing, unblnking, manikins.
Sitting with a heavy thump, Lillie nodded. And it was a wonder that Sakaki could see it, as he’d slumped into the table in some mute motion of utter misery as she described… everything.
“You think he’s broke... like the professor?”
Poor Kukui who’s very personality had devolved, from a vibrant borderline madman of enthusiasm to… a posturing sham that said inspirational lines, trained new hatched rockruff, and did nothing else.
“Let’s find out.”
With that Sakaki stood, marched to the desk, and shoved the kid out of the way. Tucking the portable computer close he hauled the clunky grey laptop and its pokeball transporter attachment to their table. Lillie wasn’t quite done eating, but on returning Sakaki shoveled everything off the edge, abusing the world’s perchance for ignoring him and ruining her last nibble of dinner.
Lillie furrowed her brows and glared at him. It wasn’t much but he’d known she was mad, even without her saying a word.
“They’ll pick it up, it’s why they have help.”
Not the point, so she told him because he was stupid like that sometimes and didn’t get simple things, like not being mean, or how to make reparations.
“You owe me dessert.”
Sometimes you had to give the dark-haired trainer a firm hint.
“I spared you an oversaturation of sal-“
“Dessert.”
Sakaki sighed, and nodded. Point received if not understood, he’d do as she said if only to make her get off his case.
“Was he almost done?” Lillie wondered, not quite protesting, but not quite going along with him, because doing that would have been wrong.
Sakaki’s black eyes flicked at her, considered her and her moralizing, and with a huff, he unwound the bound cord that he’d looped around the tech, and hunted up a power socket to plug the thing in.
“Don’t know, don’t care.”
And considering the kid was still standing at the front of the line, wingul napping, staring blankly at nothing, fingers flicking over a screen that wasn’t there, Lillie decided that for her sanities sake she probably shouldn’t look at the desk, line, or anyone else for the rest of the night.
Flicking the purloined tech open, she watched it light up when Sakaki plugged it in. And, curiously, instead of the familiar, sweet, chime, it made a low clunk as it came to life. He came up, the plug in a table leg of all the silly things, to see her brushing off crumbs from its audio ports.
Sakaki cracked a near benign smirk at her housekeeping and set his personal, folding phone from the dark ages besides the laptop.
Settling back in his chair, Sakaki turned the device so it was between the two of them, so clearly this was going to be the “thing she had to see”. And knowing him it wasn’t going to be something as benign as a skitty video. Still, she settled in and waited while he twiddled the wire one last time, then, with a melodramatic crick of his knuckles, set his hands to the keyboard to type.
That’s when reality decided to “nope” out of the pokecenter.
The keypad turned intangible under Sakaki’s hands. Shifting from solid to mist in a blink, it stayed in its familiar frame, even in the same shape, but the whole of it, from keys to base to wires, had somehow slipped from the third dimension to second with no one the wiser.
And no one noticed, the keyboard, her shriek, or Sakaki’s fingers getting cut off by the solid seeming metal…
That wasn’t… solid?
She’d recoiled from the table as if burnt. Knocking her chair back even. And again, no one noticed.
Except Sakaki. He looked up from fighting with the impossibility that was the pokecenter tech, fingertips grey tinted and sinking into solid electronics, acting for all the world as if she were overreacting.
One moment passed, became two, then seeing she wasn’t coming back, he rolled his eyes, then called her over.
The little pat on the table was a mite… insulting.. and she glared at him, dropping the hand over her chest to better glower at him.
His smirk and follow-up pat pat of the table’s edge left Lillie with the overwhelming urge to bite him, or maybe talk Beedrill into biting him, and she hadn’t bit anyone since she was three years old.
Lillie returned to her seat, shaking a little, and Sakaki, insufferable trainer he was, was underreacting because he could.
There were words for that type of… ung… Lillie didn’t have the words, just irritation, and a very firm glare… That he ignored, though he was merciful and lifted his fingers out of the metal mist with a wince.
“This isn’t new, just a recent reoccurrence.”
It was a lame assurance, but she settled into the chair beside him, trying to steal herself.
Because if he wasn’t screaming, or freaking out, well she wouldn’t either.
Which was a lie because just couldn’t stop shaking. But at least she didn’t shake out of the chair, or run off, or scream again.
“You try.”
Lillie’s resolve to not scream was tested by the idea of touching that computer abomination. She opened her mouth, to say “wah- No!” but she was a horrible horrible sap for any request to help. Even one delivered so tersely by a man whose spirit ‘mon was something prickly, and poisonous and… And perhaps seeing the refusal from the pallor of her face, the shake to her frame, Sakaki added a please and Lillie groaned.
Because she was a sucker, and he had her pegged since day one.
Folding to her nature, seriously scan her with some trainer’s pokedex she had a nature, and that nature was Gullible, she wrapped her hand in a napkin and gripped the computer on the upper corner. Dragging the tech towards her by the screen.
It didn’t sink into the table, or turn off, or snarl, or do anything odd. Rather it scraped along as if there was nothing wrong, and though cringing with every inch she drew it closer, she wheeled it to herself and borrowing one of his forks, poked the keyboard.
It clicked.
It was a normal click, even.
And she was getting weird looks from the people around her for poking tech with a fork but she ignored that. She was learning when to ignore people when traveling with Sakaki, and this moment fell under the “ignore” category. She poked again, harder, and the Nurse behind the pokecenter’s counter barked.
“You break it you buy it!”
And since they couldn’t see, hadn’t seen, Sakaki’s fingers sinking into metal and plastic like it wasn’t there, Lillie couldn’t really explain why she was being so… weird… right then. So she didn’t.
She just unfurled her pinky finger from her off-hand and decided to sacrifice the very tippity tip to science.
In short, she did the wussiest poke ever, and the thing clicked and was solid.
If unresponsive.
She slid it back to Sakaki. Science done, for a lifetime, thanks. And she wanted to wash her hands, so bad. But doing so meant leaving, and it was like one of those horror movies where you couldn’t look away or get up even though you had to go.
Sakaki spun the device about from the top, mirroring her grip…
Or at least he meant to.
Watching glass fracture and flow away like water, losing substance and reforming as lines… that never got less creepy. There was one second before you had to blink, where you could see the electronics peal back into non-existence and the electricity snapping between the pieces turned to a hissing mist to devolve into smears to color…
She flinched into her chair after one loud crackle, while Sakkai, reached up to slam the thing closed.
And he couldn’t.
His hand passed through it, and with a frustrated gesture, asked… well ordered… her to do close the horror show of a computer.
Mainly to keep the creepy thing from happening again, Lillie obeyed.
She used the fork, because she was not touching this computer, or any computer, for anything, ever again.
“This happened before?” Because pretending like this wasn’t happening was what everyone else was doing, and Lillie’d come to accept she wasn’t like everyone else..
“It’s like sticking your hands in a ghastly.” He rasped, flexing his fingers. “Cold and burning without fire and you can feel it sloshing about you, there’s a sense of where it’s form and frame are, but there’s nothing really there…”
Then, insanely he slammed his hands through it. Not in the breaking it into pieces sort of slam, though if the laptop had been real and he’d really connected there’d of been a big dent…
His palm slammed the table; she could hear the palm slap down against the faux wood. His fingers scraped as he felt for wires, connectors, and chips. The tech sloshed in its dimensions like… like a jiggling plate of jelly, roiling between existing and not, recoiling and encasing the trainers’ calloused hands, but mercifully not actually cutting them off.
And Lillie swallowed, tied her hardest not to puke, and compromised by staring at the ceiling while staying. She couldn’t give him much. Just her company for this moment, that while happening in public, seemed deeply private. It was an illusion of privacy, an illusion of safety, solidarity, while reality broke before them in such a small way.
And it was all she could do after all.