Pokémon Obsession

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

"Don't you think you need to talk to him today?"

"It's in my head, Helen. I have to get it out somehow. It's...I can't even describe it, but it'll be wonderful!" He didn't look up as he spoke, just kept scrawling something across the paper.

Helen looked startled for a moment, but ultimately just patted his head and poured him some more coffee.

Curiosity got the best of me. I approached the table and hoped he wouldn't say anything, but he was too ensconced in his work to notice. On some discarded pages, the same thing, drawn endlessly and often incomprehensibly where his hand couldn't keep apace of his mind.

It was a strange device, and I wasn't sure what it was at first. It looked like a ball in a cage, but it had to be a ship of some kind. It was the only thing my father designed. Of course, it didn't look like a ship, more like some sort of misguided public art. I shook my head. He was being ridiculous; this would never be anything wonderful.

"Are you all right today?" It took me a moment to realise that was Helen asking me. "You don't have to go out today. Your father will be finished in a little while..." She trailed off, brow furrowed.

"I want to." What was her sudden interest? If she wasn't going to be out with it, I figured, it couldn't be important.

She sighed with her mouth tightened. "Well, whatever helps. I swear, the both of you..." Another incomplete sentence as she headed out to the factory to start the day.

I wouldn't be going anywhere for several hours. The party wasn't until the afternoon, and it was in Seafoam for once, so I had only to dress and walk over. The weather was clear and cool, and the walk would be pleasant. Of course, once the heat set in, it would be unthinkable to do so, but it was only spring. And my father was otherwise occupied, so my dread from the party falling on his day off was nothing. Usually those days were intolerable, and I would either throw myself into my schoolwork or ring up Asaph or Veronica to avoid his questions. The former far more than the latter, of course, as he still wouldn't move the phone from his space.

It would do me good to get out. I'd been studying far too much lately, finishing up only the night before a report on a poem. Something about a meadow, referred to as a meadow many times during the work, with descriptions of flowers and hills. But of course it couldn't possibly actually be a meadow. Symbolism and all that rot, nothing meaning what it says plainly. Finally I had to make things up, based on what I knew of the author, and submitted a paper on how it was a battlefield and the flowers were fallen soldiers. In retrospect, I had based my summary on a Ni Mháille painting whose likeness was tacked to my wall.

Which reminded me, in a roundabout way, of the party that night. It was a birthday party for one of the former board members of the Fuchsia Historical Art Institute. I'd never met the man, but he and Asaph had known each other for years. I wasn't expected to bring a gift, and I wasn't sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, they recognised that I was only starting off, but on the other, they were still treating me like an outsider, a curiosity.

I'd just keep at it, though. Collectors have to be tenacious or they'll never get anywhere. But it was easier than the alternative. Expectations for those my age were simple; we were to be students, and trainers soon after. Hardly any aspired for anything different. Some might be known, briefly, but soon faded. It was so transient.

My thoughts had been like that for a few days, and I hoped the party would shake me from it. An art collector can't start feeling like nothing matters, or he'll never appreciate anything. And I wasn't about to let a few days of fatalism shake me from my chosen path. Besides, it came out of nowhere. Nothing had really changed around me, as was the norm, and it wasn't enough to escalate my usual frustration.

Besides, even though human lives are transient, that's why we have art. Art transcends our mortality, sometimes gripping it by the throat in the process, and leaves behind something far more beautiful than any life could accomplish through only living.

I'd been having those thoughts lately too.



After reading up on some of the treasures of Fuchsia, I curled back up in bed. It was tranquil, peaceful, and made me want to sleep for days. But of course I had a responsibility.

I thought back to the past, those ancient times when the legends were said to walk among us. Had that really changed? Had they ever truly done so, or was that just the foolishness of old? If they had, were they still here and we just ignored them?

Certainly there were some. Veronica had spoken to me of how a field in a north region was a famous gathering place for Shaymin, and they interacted eagerly with humans and most other species save for certain times of year. Phione schools are readily observed in warmer waters. But there wasn't anything especially interesting or aesthetic about either of them. Nothing of true renown.

/The world is pretty boring/, I thought as I yawned and hugged my pillow. Even knowing how everything works doesn't make it interesting. It's not beautiful or anything, just dull. At least the art that Mr. Higuchi specialised in was stylised to some degree and wasn't anything I could see just looking out a window. Most people my age dismissed it as ugly or weird, but I didn't.

And then I was thinking in circles again, so I rolled over and picked up a book on the physics of flight from my bedside table. Even though it was my father's book, I didn't think of him at all during my read.



I didn't bother telling either him or Helen when I left. They knew I was going out, and I didn't care to risk getting my outfit dirty in the factory.

It was a pleasant enough afternoon; warm enough to walk the few miles to my destination and chilled enough to be able to do so without fear of perspiration. I liked being able to be out like that, to feel the wind all around me. It came off the sea with a blast of revitalisation, perking me out of my earlier reverie and making me feel alive. Of course, where I was headed helped with that, to be surrounded by art and people who appreciated it, but the wind itself was a solid cause.

Overhead, a flock of birds called merrily to each other. They seemed to be going the same direction I was, so with a smile, I called back. They ignored me, as was in their nature, and went along their way. Over the crest of a hill, I saw them alight to a tree, and once again I called to them as I passed.

I felt nice. Summer was coming, but not too quickly, and it gave an appreciation for my surroundings. That didn't happen often.

My suit was a bit off, cut low along the chest to button at the base of my ribcage, and I'd have to button my collar before arriving, but overall it was fashionable and pleasing to see. And I had to wonder about the sight of me, what anyone passing by would think of a youth in a tailored suit, walking along the roadside, calling to birds.

Just as my thoughts started to wander back to whatever it was that Helen was adamant my father speak to me about, Mr. Higuchi's home came into view. It wasn't specified to his tastes, although the landscaping was. The garden was low and tempered, and made use of its proximity to the shoreline for a water feature that lined the walkway. As I approached, I saw that the pond was stocked with Magikarp. Not shabby wild ones, but show fish with broad, shiny scales. Walking past, they followed the sight of me, several gold ones standing out of the mass of orange. But I continued to the door.


Some had already arrived, and I was glad for that. Mr. Higuchi was an elderly man, over eighty, and made a comment about hope for the younger generation. I told him of Veronica and he was equally pleased. However, he didn't speak to me the rest of the night.

As I waited for her and Asaph, I made small talk with the early arrivals. Lucrezia and her son were there, dividing as soon as they walked through the door. Lucrezia had dressed the part, in a fine kimono indicating her status, but her son, along with most of the guests, had elected more modern wear. I wondered if I shouldn't have worn something more traditional, as people flocked to admire her, although I hated the constriction of such garments.

Conversations tend to go in circles, not merely the subjects, but the people. They stand in a cluster as they speak, backs to the rest of the room. As such, I wandered around, finally sitting in a low chair next to a lone koto. It wasn't a particularly fancy example of the instrument, but people of Mr. Higuchi's status never have elements without reason. The sound would likely be lovely.

My smile returned as I remembered a festival in my hometown. Mama and I had sat on the ground as we listened to a koto player. Afterwards, I had asked if I could pluck the strings. Had I ever been that young?

Such a pleasant memory. I could almost feel mama's hand on my back as we listened, hear the music in the air instead of conversations that didn't involve me.

I wasn't sure how long I sat there like that. At least ten minutes, but coming back to reality left a strange feeling in my stomach until I noticed that Veronica was sitting beside me. "Are you feeling all right?" she asked as she adjusted a green ribbon that hung too far down.

"I'm all right." I stood, and offered her my hand. "You know, this is the first time I've seen you at an event in something other than the red dress." Another modern outfit, a green gown that exposed her shoulders, something she seemed to have difficulty with as she kept adjusting the cuff that rested on her upper arms.

"Yes, it's new. Do you like it? This is also new." 'This' being a pearl and emerald choker. "Mother got it for me when she went overseas. They're all natural, not a cultured one in the bunch."

"Which makes it more cultured," I noted. "How was your trip?"



We talked for a bit more, mostly about our respective educations, before Asaph disengaged from the circle he had found himself in and approached. "The both of you need to spread out. You can't spend the entire evening talking amongst yourselves. People don't come to these parties to talk to those they talk to all the time." He seemed disappointed, from the slight bend in his back and the furrow over his brow. As he adjusted his pince-nez, something he didn't ordinarily wear and that looked strange on his broad face, he sighed. "I will be spending time away from you tonight. I have my own connections to make."

Veronica took a thread off his tailored vest and balled it between her fingers. "It looks like Miss Chen still has her usual affectionate greeting. It won't do for our mentor to have loose threads on him."

He chuckled. "Why Miss Veronica. Are you planning on having students of your own? Just circulate the room and you'll do fine." And he left us alone again.

"He seems worried," I said flatly.

"Yes. But we should do what he says. He's our teacher for a reason." She cocked her head and smiled at me. "And frankly, this is more interesting than algebra."

We split up, her with a wave to me.



It didn't last long. With the party in full swing an hour later, she approached me. "Jiri...can you come outside with me?"

I'd been occupying myself by the drinks for the past while, but there was only so much interest to be had in a cup. Those around me analysed the amazake as if it was the finest wine, and I listened and wondered with amusement if there was some list somewhere that people drew from to describe drinks.

So I went with her without a word. Rather than stopping in the hallway, she led me into the walk-in closet across the way and pulled the door closed behind us. "I'm so tired, Jiri," she admitted, staring at the ground. "I don't know how people can do this."

"Do what?" I took her hand, remembering what had happened in Goldenrod.

She gave me a bit of a squeeze and brought her gaze up. "Talk for so long about nothing. I tried asking someone about what drew them to a statue they just bought, and all he wanted to do was talk about how much it cost!"

"It's a status symbol. Remember what Asaph told us? Most of these people don't feel anything for what they buy."

"Then why do they do it?" It seemed to hurt her to ask it, but I wasn't sure why.

I smiled in an attempt to cheer her up. "I don't know. But we're the better off for it. We're something special, aren't we?" Before she could answer, I patted her arm. "Like shining stars." Why did saying that make me feel briefly ill?

But she smiled back and it was gone. "I suppose. We'll just have to keep shining." And looking past me, her smile grew. "When I was young, I'd always play pretend in closets like this. It brings back some good memories."

"Oh? What did you play?"

She thought about it for a moment. "I'd be a princess being held captive by ogres, or I'd be exploring a cave and finding treasure...Things like that. Do you ever imagine you're looking for Lugia?"

"Sometimes," I admitted. "But it never seems to play out like that. Mostly the more practical side of gathering information, but it's still exciting."

She giggled. "Sometimes I wonder if you're really only nine."

What an odd thing to say. Somehow I felt both better and worse.

"Well, I suppose it's only natural. We've got to grow up sometime. Anyway, do you want to head back? I think I just needed to take a break."

I nodded. "Yes, Asaph will be cross if we're not there."

She'd only opened the door a bit when she stopped and withdrew from the entrance. I glanced out to see Lucrezia and her son coming out of the ballroom, and given the angle the closet was set to that room, I doubted she could see either of us. Which was fortunate, given the circumstance.

Lucrezia pulled him out into the hallway by his lapels. He didn't struggle or protest--it would have drawn unwanted attention to the situation. As it was, I think only Veronica and I were in a position to notice, although we didn't know what had gone on in the ballroom.

"You brat! How dare you treat your mother like this? How dare you treat anyone like this?" Lucrezia was livid, shaking so hard her dark hair bounced around on her back. "How many times are you going to do this? You're a grown man, the heir to my business! You've already burned far too many bridges with these people with your League title and your stupid dalliances--"

Something shifted in his expression. I wasn't sure what it was, but Veronica sucked in a breath and tightened her grip on my arm.

But Lucrezia continued unabated. "But when you keep flaunting your conquests the same way these people talk about their collections...You have no regard for anybody but yourself! People are just a game to you, aren't they? They're not a game, and if you want to remain my heir, you'll remember that!"

He smirked, and I noticed he wasn't looking at her. Past her. At us? I shivered. "Mother, you're overreacting. Amalie was simply looking for a good time. I can't help that she found it in my hotel room rather than the museum."

Letting out a high snarl, she grabbed his chin and yanked his head down. "You will look at me when I'm speaking to you! I will say this only once more! If you do anything I've addressed one more time, you are out of the business. Do you understand me, brat?"

I didn't hear his reply, as Veronica picked then to pull me further into the closet and pull a coat over the both of us. I could hear her taking deep breaths, and finally she said "I think I'd like to see Cresselia in the light of the full moon. It would be really beautiful."

That was distress, wasn't it? She was upset by that argument. I took her hand with a squeeze. "They say Lugia only flies during a full moon. "

She made an odd noise, almost a squeak, and fell silent. There wasn't any more noise from the hallway, so I disengaged and went to the door to peek out. "No one's here. Want to go back to the party?"

The coat shifted. I assumed she was nodding, since she came forward a moment later. "I'm sorry. I really can't stand to hear fighting."

"It's all right. Let's go back. Hopefully by now we'll have missed the speeches."

She was looking down but smiling. "Hopefully. At least there's amazake."



The hallway was clear, and we headed across to the reception room. The attendees were milling around now, with a few idling by the koto player in the corner, who was far more formal than the one in my memory. Veronica wandered over there, leaving me alone for several minutes, during which nothing of interest happened.

I stared at the window, the people behind me reflected over the ocean. It was near sunset, and the sunset over the ocean is one of the most beautiful sights in the world. Even now I believe this, with all my heart.

And my thoughts shifted to Lugia. I'd been thinking of it more lately, every time I looked at the ocean. Those graceful wings, that beautiful form--beyond any work of art human hands could craft...It was out there somewhere, beneath the waves. And the thought of it made my heart ache. Something so dear to me, so far away...

I heard my name spoken from across the room. The cocktail party effect, since I knew no one was speaking to me. Taking a step back from the glass and scanning the reflection of the room--a trick Asaph had taught us for looking elegantly uninterested--I saw Veronica talking to Lucrezia's son. Odd, I'd have thought she would try to avoid him after that outburst in the hallway; but then, it was his mother doing all the yelling.

That they were talking about me wasn't especially interesting to me, so I turned my attention back to the sea. Others were looking out too, but I knew it meant nothing to them. Simply a view, nothing more.

"Jiri?" I must have been in a daze, since by this point Veronica had already put her hand on my arm. She smiled when I turned, but how strange; Lucrezia's son was standing next to her. "He apologized for what happened earlier and says he wants to make it up to us."

He bowed slightly, the very model of a businessman. "I hadn't meant for anyone to overhear that. Mother was quite demanding and couldn't wait until we left the party. But parents are like that, aren't they?" He smiled. "They don't respect our decisions, our lives."

"I know exactly what you mean," I whispered.

"I suspected you would. Come with me. As she told you, I want to make it up to the both of you." And he turned to the door, waiting for us to accompany him.

Offering my arm to Veronica, I held my head high. Watching the ocean had refreshed me, my sadness gone.

A caterer scurried past us in the hallway, not wanting to be waylaid by guests. We walked rapidly by, Lucrezia's son keeping a brisk pace that was difficult to maintain with dignity. "Now," he said as he pushed open the door to a brilliant library overflowing with books and scrolls from all Kanto's history, "Admittedly, it's been some time since I was a child. Do children still enjoy keeping secrets?"

It was difficult keeping eye contact with him. Not only was the view of the ocean out the window so enticing, but something about that intense look he always had was intimidating. I glanced over at Veronica, who was nodding but had an odd crease in her eyebrows.

I've no doubt he noticed, but he called no attention to it. "I understand the two of you recently came into some money. That mentor of yours mentioned your recent windfalls." Oh yes, Veronica had been granted a substantial sum herself a few months ago. She had dismissed the topic, for the most part. "So the secret I have may be of greater interest to you than those people out there, who treat money like coins to a cat."

Here he bent down to our level, looking us both dead on. Veronica's eyes were wide as she asked him "You said it had something to do with a business arrangement, right?"

"It does. Tomorrow, one of my mother's companies will sign a sizable deal with one of its former competitors. The stock is certain to skyrocket, and whoever owns that stock is poised to make billions overnight. But the deal is very hush-hush. Only a few people know. And now the two of you have the opportunity to be among them, if you swear to keep this a secret."

Billions overnight? I laughed bluntly, but asked "All right, what's the catch?" It seemed like the thing to say.

He chuckled. "No catch. I don't expect anything in return. This isn't a formal business arrangement. I just know that everyone has to get out from under their parents' thumbs eventually. Miss, are you all right?"

Veronica's mouth was taut and breaths pulled in and out rapidly, but only for a moment. She blinked several times and laughed softly before grabbing my arm, working her expression back to a grin. "I'm fine," she breathed with a slight shake in her words and in her grip. "Are you sure about this though? Your mother will be furious at you."

"That isn't anything new," he scoffed. "Now, will you take this information?"

I nodded. After a brief tightening of her grip once again, so did Veronica.




We scurried to find Asaph, and endured the few minutes that it took to disengage him from his conversation. Manners dictated that we couldn't blurt it out, however much we both wanted to.

But oh it was worth it. His expression when we told him of our windfall, the silence as he fumbled with his pince-nez to pocket it as he thought about who to call to arrange everything...

Finally he was able to contact stockbrokers willing to aid at the late hour. All the while, Veronica hugged herself, barely containing excitement, but after a bit, while Asaph was calling, she turned to me. "Jiri...you're happy, right?"

"Mm?" Her question caught me a bit off-guard. "Of course I am. Veronica, we're going to make billions!"

"It's so hard to tell with you." She reached over to me, pushing my head up, and her thumbs pulled my mouth up along the sides. "There! Now you look like you're going to make a fortune!"

I had to smile for real at that. "It hasn't happened yet. Besides, you haven't stopped pacing. You seem nervous."

She flopped down on the couch next to me--Higuchi had given us the run of his living room for our sudden business venture, even though it was unknown to him. "I'm nervous. Excited. I've got energy to burn and there's only a certain number of ways you can do that in a place like this!" Her voice went up at the end, and her eyes were sparkling in the dim light as Asaph came over to us.

"It's all done. The both of you, fortune willing, will wake up to great wealth. Just remember to sell when you think it appropriate."

Veronica nodded. "Of course! Oh, I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight! Jiri, I wish I could stay with you overnight so we could keep each other awake for this!"

What would happen would happen. What good would staying up all night do when the meeting wouldn't be until after we'd get up? But I nodded anyway. "It'd be nice. But I don't think my father would take kindly to the idea, especially since we've no place to host you."

Asaph laughed. "Ah, youthful exuberance. It's been such a long time. Well, he said the meeting is at nine-thirty, so we ought to rest up. But I know Lucrezia, and she's a genius at making money. Everything she does turns to gold, as they say."

An odd noise from the doorway made us turn our heads. Lucrezia's son was standing there, arms folded.

"How long have you been there?" Asaph asked him with a chuckle.

"Long enough to hear that bit about my mother. You know as well as I do that making money is the only thing she could be considered a genius at." There was something strangely artificial about the joviality in his voice. "I came to tell the two of you that I'm leaving. She has to get up for the meeting, and it's about forty-five minutes to Viridian by helicopter." Those sharp eyes met mine, and my mouth tightened on some unknown reflex. "One your father made, of course."

"It was a pleasure," Veronica said, standing and curtseying with her ankles crossed just right.

I stood as well, offering my hand. "A pleasure," I echoed as he shook it firmly, and I was somewhat relieved when he let go.

"Tell her I give my warmest regards," Asaph asked with another handshake.

But there was no need. Lucrezia entered the room in a flurry of her white houmongi. "So this is where you've gone off to. They have business to attend to, you know. Leave them alone."

He blanched, bowed slightly to us, and headed for the door.

"Honestly, that son of mine..." But she smiled. "I hope your business turns out well."

Asaph kissed her on both cheeks, the same greeting they'd had in the Viridian museum. "I'm certain it will. Enjoy your trip back."

"At least he'll be quiet. He told me he's in no mood to argue with me tonight." Turning back to the doorway, her attention shifted. "Giovanni! Let's go."

Her son nodded at us before the two of them slipped from view.




The way back was dark and cold, but Asaph offered me a ride. Veronica and I held hands in eagerness the way back, but hardly said a word. Asaph himself was content to listen to the radio.

The factory was closed when we rolled up. "It looks a little spooky at night," Veronica whispered, following it with "I'll call you after the meeting."

Asaph wished me good luck, and I was alone, watching their car drive off. She was to stay the night in his guest room as I had before going the rest of the way to Viridian.

I let myself into the silent house, and noticed a note on the banister for me.

/Jiri, if you want to talk, I'll be here tomorrow. -Dad/

I left it where it was and went up to shower, eager for the day ahead. I hoped I would fall asleep quickly and not while away the night hours with fruitless anticipation. But I was fairly tired, and in the end that won over.

Under the covers, I started to drift off almost immediately. Such a wonderful day! And to think that a year ago, I could never have conceived of such a fortune.

/Oh, mama died a year ago./

But I fell asleep right after.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

And then it was summer's end. Veronica and I had prospered off the information and had made quite tidy sums from it, investing and re-investing and overcoming small losses, always staying ahead of where we had been after that fateful morning. By the months passed, we had far, far surpassed that generous starting point.

We had both elected to keep our fortunes secret from our families, and I for one was having a surprisingly easy time of it. Thanks to the ample boutiques in Seafoam, there to cash in on tourist money, I had started to dress better, although not as fine as I would prefer. But finally I was rid of the denim shorts and slogan-ridden shirts my father had initially supplied me with. Veronica was still at the mercy of her parents' demands to look a certain way, but she was able to sway the endless parade of stylists ever so slightly. And she was doing better in school. She had been having difficulty in some of her courses at the Viridian Academy, and had been unwilling to approach her parents about hiring summer tutors, a detail she'd sworn me to secrecy over.

My father simply assumed that my sudden style change was Asaph's influence, and laughed that he should have given Asaph more of a discount on the C-class.

It was a cold summer that year, and fog off the ocean swarmed around my clifftop home. But I didn't spend much time there anyway. Asaph and the both of us were meeting more, doing more, going more places. It was liberating in ways that our previous excursions with him hadn't been, in ways we couldn't describe. We were closer to being his equals; that was the closest thing we could put words to.

Perhaps someday we could surpass him. We would outshine them all, he had told us, and the thought was more than idle fancy in my mind. It would be a ways off and we would have to maintain ourselves, but it was a thought we both entertained.

I would be ten soon. Asaph was quite eager for it and had let on that he was in the process of procuring a fantastic gift for me. For Veronica's birthday, her thirteenth, he had given her an early century duchess's circlet with brilliant gems of blue inset with red and a band of yellow that she recognized as being in the image of a Manaphy egg. Although she had told me after that what she had wanted most had gone dismissed; a Lunar Wing, the bended feather of Cresselia. It was an inelegant statement but I simply nodded.

That project of my father’s, his dream design, had lasted months and at times he would hole himself up on his days off to work on it for ceaseless hours. To me it still looked impractical, like a flying saucer from some cheap movie. But the longer he spent on it, the less time he could pester me. Not that he didn’t continue to be a source of embarrassment. It was humiliating having a father who delighted in the cheap thrills of the town, in the gaudy, shallow attractions of the constant carnival that was Seafoam. Even that annual surfing display saw him eagerly feed into the blitz of t-shirts and banners, and I had the good sense to leave town on that day.

I was headed to the north, to Veronica's home in Viridian. The glamorous city awaited, with its mansions and skyscrapers rising to the brilliant blue sky. And today was something special. Her mother Tierney was hosting a premiere of her company's latest line, and the grounds and home were decked out in anticipation. I wore my finest suit for the occasion, although it was far too hot to do so, and asked Igasho to turn on the air conditioning in the car. Asaph was already in Viridian, so we drove on alone in thankful silence.

Forest gave way to a seemingly endless expanse of farmland, mansions dotted along the hills between them. This was what artists sought to capture in so many landscapes, but it meant nothing to me as I sunk down in my seat a bit and thought about everything that had happened over the past several months. I had done that a lot, just as I had been pensive before that party.

To finally be respected...It was a step, but money alone wouldn't wrest me from that reinforced cage. I needed something further, and unfortunately the only thing that would satisfy my father in that regard would be to age. And that was something money couldn't buy, not in that direction.

It was something beautiful to be on my own, to be in the world as a person and not somebody’s child. Liberating and peaceful, although still unsettling at its core. Were they humoring me?

Those thoughts were kept at bay by the beauty of the sun streaming through the clouds.




I’d never been to Veronica’s home before, but once I arrived, there was no time to relax. The main entryway was overrun by catering trucks and magazine cadres, the side yard covered by workmen putting the finishing touches on a runway and arranging chairs around it. Tierney brushed past me in the main hall, talking over a large cellular phone, and I was left in a sea of people to find Veronica on my own.

But it was simple enough. After peeking down the hallway past the double doors marked “private”, I saw her under a cloud of hairspray, through a wall of stylists.

“Jiri!” she exclaimed, spotting me in her mirror. “Come in!”

I did as was asked, although the smell in the room was terrible, and stood next to her, stifling a cough. “I’m glad to see you,” I said, waving a hand in front of my face to expel the chemical cloud.

“I hoped you’d get here early,” she smiled as a curler worked its way into her bangs. “Although goodness, did you just sneak into a lady’s bedchamber?”

I think I stammered for a moment before retorting “Well, milady knows I’m an awful knave.”

That earned a laugh. “I think a good squirt of this hairspray would set you right. So I’m glad you’re here. Mom’s been terribly rushed today. This is her first time hosting an event like this, and she’s trying to show off as much as possible. Everything has to be perfect, and that means I have to be perfect too.” She reached out and squeezed my hand. “So I’m probably going to need to run off with you somewhere.”

I chuckled, although I wasn’t sure why. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

“And you might have to go hide too,” she sighed. “One of the child models got sick and she thinks you’re around the right size to pick up the slack.”

Well, that was unexpected. I wasn’t sure what to say for some time, although I was dimly aware that my brow was furrowed, so I hoped that would suffice as reply enough.

“She’s going to be pretty adamant about it, so if you don’t want to, you should be prepared to hold on fast.”

I considered things. To be part of the presentation process could be fascinating. To be regarded along with the art, as essential as the frame…or perhaps I was just being overdramatic. “Either way,” I said although I was certain I hadn’t said the first part aloud, “it should be an interesting experience.”

“Hold off on saying that until you see the outfit,” Veronica warned.




Clearly, the only course of action was to forge ahead with it. Tierney had been brusque, yes, but the requested outfit was rather unique. It was reminiscent of nobility, the light blue ruffles and contours of the classical era, and it felt oddly empowering to wear it. Although I questioned her assertation that it represented the Lorainne region, as it was clearly far more northern than that. I turned around in front of the mirror, admiring the ties on the calf-fitting boots, the buttoned leggings, even the curl they’d put in my hair along the sides of my face.

I heard a giggle behind me, even though my dressers had left by that point. “You look nice,” Veronica said. “Like you stepped out of an old Windsor painting.”

“Thank you!” I exclaimed. “I knew it couldn’t be Lorainnian, but she kept insisting.”

When I turned towards her, she was frowning slightly. “...Yeah, she’s like that. Once she gets her head on something...but it doesn’t matter, I guess. Do you like my outfit?”

She was outfitted in a pink dress with fringe along all edges, a leather strand belt adorned with turquoise at the tips, high pink boots with a pokéball emblem embossed into their sides, and topped off with a wide brim cowgirl hat with a large darker pink bow flopped against itself. It was somewhere between comical and something that would be potentially trendy. “It’s very pink,” I observed to be funny.

It must have worked because she laughed. “I like it, actually. It’s a shame it would violate the uniform code or I’d wear it to school. Especially the hat. I think it’d take the edge off the people behind me if they can’t see the board. How did you get into distance classes, anyway? I think I’d enjoy that a lot more. Oh, but then I wouldn’t have as many excuses to leave the house. But at least I wouldn’t have to look any way special for it. Oh dear, I’m running at the mouth again.” She tried to shake it off by laughing again.

I put a hand on her arm. “We’ll have to save some of this for later.” Tierney was coming around the corner.

At the sight of the two of us, she gasped dramatically. “Oh you two are so--” and immediately set to work on last-minute corrections. She fluffed Veronica’s bow, set the fringe on her arms and at her knees straight, and tucked a stray curl under the hat. As for me, it was a flurry of tugs and fluffing as she tried to make the half-size larger clothes seem as if they were made for me. Finally she stood, and, licking her fingers first, wound them into the pre-curled hair at the sides of my face and tugged.

“Ow!” It was painful, but at least brief.

“Beauty hurts,” she said harriedly, looking us up and down again. “Aren’t you both perfect. Now, you’re going on near the end, as punctuation of sorts. I had to change the schedule around for that and Lada is very mad, so you can’t say a word about it. After you make your appearances, stay out there and all the other models will join you for a bow. But don’t bow until I do. And don’t pinch your face up, Veronica, I’m not sending you back to the makeup chair an hour before you go on. This is perhaps the biggest day of Mommy’s life so I need you to be absolutely perfect.”

Veronica had made a bit of a face at the mention of the famous model, but I didn’t think it was anything strange. “Are there any musical cues we have to worry about?” she asked.

“No, only the adult models are walking in time with the beat. Nobody expects that from the children. Now, I’d kiss you but I’m not going to muss your hair, so here.” Tierney leaned in and very gingerly put her arm around Veronica’s shoulder in what passed for a hug. “The director will give you your cues; you remember Nhung. He’ll tell you what to do and for now mommy has to go start things off, kiss kiss!” Without waiting for a reply, she hurried off again, a bluster of headset and designer fabric.

Veronica was staring absently at the ground, and my gaze followed suit. “What are we looking at?”

She started suddenly, pulling in a gasp. “Oh, nothing. Just we should get over there.”

“Right.” I offered my arm and she accepted, smoothing out a bunching of fabric that had gathered around my elbow.




The end of the opposite wing was a maelstrom of swarming garments on the most polished-looking people I had ever seen. They didn’t seem real, but like very realistic puppets, or a cluster of especially well-trained Ditto. I wanted to say that to Veronica, in the hopes that a witty remark may lighten her mood, but something in the tightness of her mouth silently told me that I should remain quiet.

How strange, I thought. I had been told that that was a sign of nervousness and I accepted that, but with nothing better to do to fill the time, I pondered why that was. If someone had the want for quiet, wouldn’t it only make sense to say so? In our field, we were surrounded by such magnificent beauty; why would we want to take our eyes from it to look at each other?

Was that something I would learn when I was older? I hated to consider anything like that. Knowledge came with time, but age was something different altogether.

I shifted against Veronica’s arm, which she still held in hers, and thought about something else. I needed something opulent if I was to stand out among collectors, and had been considering an airship. The solution may have seemed obvious from the beginning, but nothing in my father’s catalog would serve my purposes if I was to live by my desires. Only the finest, the most luxurious, would do, and his crafts were still only vehicles at their core. My imagination had concocted a traveling hotel room, the sort of room found in upscale resorts I read about in my magazines, but my father’s ships at the top of his line only had a cot that pulled down from the wall and a tiny washroom, both unfit for any respected society man for anything but an overnight voyage.

Maybe I could talk Veronica into getting a ship as well. We’d be quite a pair, traveling the world and searching for our beloved legendaries with the only human company we wanted.

We’d have them someday; I knew we would. We had the drive, and the means were commonplace. If someone got to them before we did, we had the money, or we would in the future. Of course, that would eliminate the thrill of the chase, but the end result would be the same.

I wondered what Lugia’s feathers looked like up close. What they felt like. Those fins on its back, were they flexible or rigid, and did they have feathers as well?

And Veronica’s voice cut through, a wavering giggle. “What are you doing, Jiri?”

I had my hand out in front of me as though I’d been petting something. My imagination had gotten away from me. “Thinking about Lugia. Don’t you imagine what it’d be like to touch Cresselia?”

She shook her head, wider in scope than a simple negative gesture would be. Was she looking around for something? “Now’s not the time.”

Ah yes, that I understood. These things were secret, never to be spoken of in the houses of our parents. They were for us alone, just as our fortunes and our futures were. “That makes sense,” I agreed. “I apologize.”

She stood in silence again, absorbing everything around her. Sometimes I envied that, the ability to take everything in. I could internalise only some of what happened, whether it made sense or not. Asaph told us that we both had our strengths in our approaches, that Veronica had everything at her disposal while I could do things with my assorted knowledge that no one else could think to do, and that we came out about the same.

I thought back to the Madame Remi painting in his home, and how we had approached our interpretations of it. Such a novel approach to things, I mused.

Then we were shuffled forward in line by quite a pace, Veronica having to grab onto her hat to keep it on her head. A man with a headset and a very tight shirt awaited us at the end, just before a curtain divided us from outside. He looked us up and down, requesting that we turn around, and he straightened some of the frills on my outfit and some of the fringe on Veronica’s dress before speaking. “You’ll go down to the end; pace yourself as you walk, Tierney is going to talk about your outfits. Then pause, and turn around and go to the end of the line, you can’t miss it. Don’t talk to anyone; they’ll still be taking your pictures even when you’re in the line. Keep yourselves expressionless until you get in line, then big smiles!” He forced the corners of his mouth up with fingers to emphasise his point. “She’ll call you all back onto the stage, and you’ll do a faster version of what you did before. Got it?” He didn’t wait for any reply before ushering me forward, separating me from Veronica.

And then we were all that mattered, the targets of every eye surrounding the makeshift stage. Cameras clicked and flashed as I began my walk down to where Tierney stood. She narrated, voice coming from speakers on either side of us. “Add a touch of the classics to your journey with this decadent ensemble based on the timeless classical masters,” the description came in an oddly flat tone, and I wondered if that was intentional. But she wasn’t done. “The boots are practical as well as stylish, with the leg-fitted design keeping your feet safe from the weather, and the soles are made for anything from a ball to a trek through the woods.”

Unsure if I should do anything, I turned on my heel to reveal the soles of my shoes to the audience. It was met with more camera flashes, and my head swam from the commotion.

“The layers will keep trainers protected from the elements, and the soft blue color is easy to spot in an emergency,” she went on, and I had a jolt of distress. It wouldn’t help if someone was drowning, and I started to lose my enthusiasm, unaware of what else she talked about. Absently, I wandered to the end of the line of brightly smiling models lining the side of the building near the stage.

But the moment was over at the sight of Veronica in the spotlight. How did that take me out of it? I wondered internally, and my smile came naturally.

“This exotic ensemble is a Towan fantasy, from the soft pink Miltank leather throughout to the hand-polished turquoise that dot her outfit. Don’t let the delicate appearance fool you—it’s as durable as it is lovely. Note the ease of movement, the holding capacity of the belt,” here, Veronica demonstrated that the strands came apart, affording one rope for each pokéball, “the beauty and strength of the open range.”

Veronica had reached the end of the runway by that point, and twirled around as she crossed the mark, fringe spinning outward. She blew a kiss to the audience before joining me at the end of the line.

She looked so happy, I thought, a marked change from just a few moments ago. But I couldn’t say anything, so I kept smiling and thought how delicious it was that here was another part of my life that my father would never know about. It was a wonderful feeling, so liberating, and I hoped that someday, Veronica would know that same freedom.

“Let’s go away,” I heard, and I looked at her. We weren’t supposed to talk yet! But “Let’s go away,” she repeated, this time in my line of sight.

I shook my head, widening my smile in the hopes she’d get the hint, and averting my eyes back to the audience. I noticed Asaph was present, near the end of the runway, and I thought I saw Lucrezia and Mr. Higuchi as well, although I wasn’t certain. One person I was positive was not in attendance was Lucrezia’s son, although I scarcely blamed either of them for that. He’d spoke of breaking away from our parents, something he’d yet to do. For all his success, he was still in his mother’s shadow. It was no wonder he had rebelled, as strange a way as it was to do so. Becoming a trainer...it was almost silly, really.

More pictures, more polite applause, more dull narrative, and finally we were herded back to the stage, retracing our steps after Nhung readjusted our clothes. The music, which had been a nondescript soft piece that merited no description, switched to a pounding beat, and the older models pounded their heels with the beat, working it into their walk. Tierney had talked about that, how no one expected the child models to do that. And I didn’t try to copy it, despite seeing the words as confrontational at best and demeaning at worst. I kept to my own pace, walking a gentleman’s walk as I’d carefully learned.

A brief pose at the end—I bowed gracefully, while Veronica did another twirl—and we headed back inside, single-file. The other models, working almost as a single entity, went back to the dressing rooms, but Veronica grabbed my hand. “Let’s go now.” It was no longer a request. The tightness of her grip and the slight bulge of her eyes told me that it was a command.

“All right, milady, where will we be off to?” I tried to make light of it. Her and her hiding.

“Viridian. Let’s go to Viridian. There’s a bus that goes by here every half-hour and the pickup point’s only a five-minute walk from here. Let’s go!”

She really meant to leave? Not simply another game of hers? I followed along, towed by her grip but of my own accord. “Your mother will be cross with us,” I told her even knowing it would do no good.

“After-parties are boring anyway. We won’t miss anything. We’ll be back by evening. No one will know we’re gone.”

If she was adamant about it or simply trying to convince herself, I couldn’t tell the difference.

She led me to the main entryway, deserted save for empty vehicles and a reporting crew that had suffered equipment failure and was loading their van. They paid us no mind and I was glad for it. About halfway down the driveway, Veronica let go of my wrist. “...Jiri, I’ll pay fare for both of us. It’s not much, but I don’t think you have your wallet on you, do you?”

How long had she been planning to do this? The thought slightly disturbed me. “I have to say, we’ll be quite the sight in these outfits. I know they’re meant for trainers, but they’re so...elaborate.”

Her pace slowed and she fell back with me. “I didn’t think you’d be in one. But still, I need to get away from there sometimes. Besides, Viridian is a great city! I don’t think anyone will notice!” She started humming something under her breath, a skip suddenly in her step. “Viridiaaaan, Viridiaaaan, hmm hmm hmmmmmm.”

As much as her mood swings puzzled me, I had to admit that it would do me good to get away as well. Living at a fast pace had its place, but not all the time. I skipped along with her, recalling the mood of my outfit and the child noblemen in all their carefree fortune.

The world was open to us, wasn’t it? It would do no good to stay in one place. And as the bus pulled up, I felt the size of that open world swell in the air around me.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

Veronica couldn't stop giggling, with a skip in her step as she paid our fares and headed to a seat in the back of the bus. I followed, sitting across the aisle from her. The bus was nearly deserted, with only a few locals about. The area she lived in was just north of the predominantly farm country that Asaph's home lay in, although his was some ways away. It was an unflinching place, where life droned on without incident yet personalities were laid bare and blunt. Far too quiet for my tastes, to say nothing of too impolite.

She took my hand and patted it. "You look like you've never been on a bus before."

"I take the bus sometimes. To downtown mostly." Although given Seafoam's small size, it was more of a shuttle, despite being called otherwise.

"It's a nice feeling, being so free, isn't it?"

I looked around. The bus was clean, with only a lingering diesel smell to give away the more unsavoury associations with this mode of transportation. "It's better than I thought it would be," I admitted. "A bit bumpy though." The roads out there were considered region roads rather than those belonging to any set city, although we were inside the outskirts of the Viridian city limits.

"Yeah, that happens. Jiri..." Her tone changed, became softer, and her gaze wandered to the ground. "...I'm glad you're here with me. I hate being alone."

"I remember that, from that night in Goldenrod."

"You and I are very special people, aren't we?" Another aspect of the Goldenrod trip. Asaph's words lingered with us, working their way into our hearts and the depths of our minds. "We're better than most, right?"

She was ending everything with a question. "Are you not sure of that? Because I am."

She looked even further away, turning her head towards the front of the bus but not looking much at it. "All this pageantry gets to me after a while. It's so artificial."

That was certainly understandable. "Yes, it's not very charming. Your mother may be a nice person, but she's a terrible designer." Having to buffer something negative with something positive, although I didn't think I meant the compliment.

Green eyes back at me. "Oh, I like my dress. I like it a lot. Yours though..." She giggled again, which was encouraging. "Honestly I'm not sure what she was going for. I think she saw a painting and decided to make it into a trainer outfit. I think it takes more than some sturdy shoes to accomplish that."

"True, true. Although I think yours would be better without the hat."

Was she insulted or just kidding me? She harrumphed and sat back in her seat, slouching in a way Asaph would never allow. "I like my hat! It's kicky." But then she laughed again. "And it keeps Ralts with me. It's just tall enough to keep a pokéball on my head. But don't tell anybody. Mom would be mad that I'm messing my hair."

The words /Among other things/ came to mind and I wasn't sure why, but I figured it wasn't time to say it.

"You aren't very interested in pokémon, are you?" she asked abruptly, and it took me a moment to hear her.

"Oh? No, not really." I sat forward at that, still looking at her. "Other than Lugia, but it's a world apart."

I thought she would ask why, but she didn't and I was glad for it. "...Cresselia is supposed to be really lovely. I wish I had it today."

"Well, you just had your birthday. Perhaps you'll be surprised at Christmas."

She sighed. "...Your birthday is coming up. Is there anything you want?"

Without thinking, I said "If I had Lugia, we could just fly there."

It garnered a laugh, and I felt a wave of embarrassment. "I can see you doing that when no one's looking. Taking it out of its display and flying around on it." She made fluttering motions with her hands as she added "maybe with a scarf and goggles, like a gentleman aviator. Oh, and driving gloves! Can't forget those!"

"I wouldn't do that," I muttered, turning towards the window. "I was kidding. One doesn't ride on Lugia."

Another sigh. "You're so confusing. I know you want to soar across the sky on Lugia. And I know you adore it, but your voice gets so dull when you talk about it." In the reflection, I could see that she was staring out her own window, her back to me. "I tend to think that you're reigning yourself in, like if you let yourself get excited about it, you wouldn't be able to keep up your decorum. But I don't know if you're actually that way or not."

"How long were you planning this?" Perhaps a jump of subject, but it had been on my mind. "You had the money on hand, and exact fare at that, even though you're still in your clothes from the show."

She giggled as she had before. "I told you I'd have to go off somewhere with you, didn't I? Don't say I didn't warn you."

Not that I had much of a choice. I suppose I could have resisted, but it would have been ungentlemanly to do so. "I hope you told someone."

"They heard me." That was true, there'd been several designers around her at the time she told me. "We'll be back before the end of the party anyway. Mom and dad won't even notice that we're gone. Asaph might, but we'll be there before he knows it."

That made sense. Viridian downtown wasn't very far, and the trip was over in about fifteen minutes. By that time, the bus had filled up more than half, and many people stared at us in our new designer outfits. But it only made us laugh, their disbelief at what they'd all gobble up the moment it hit shelves. Maybe to them it was like seeing the future, Veronica and I harbingers of what was to come.

I was half tempted to say something to that effect when we disembarked, Veronica grabbing me by the wrist again and pulling me from my seat, but for some reason neither of us could stop laughing by that point.

I'd had my apprehensions about the sudden trip, but once we arrived amidst the towering buildings, those feelings dissolved into the fragrant air. Viridian always smelled of flowers, of plants, known as it was as the Eternally Green Paradise.

To be young and carefree in the big city...that was a wonder of the world, a work of art by itself. We were independent, living by our own means, and no one could tell us what to do.

She still held my wrist even when she stopped at a corner. "So where should we go? Want to get some lunch? I haven't eaten all day."

I thought back to my breakfast of reheated doria. Keeping my money secret from my father meant still dealing with whatever he filled the refrigerator with. "I'd like that."

"Did you bring any money? I mean, if you didn't, I can pay for it, it's no problem, but..."

"I have some. I didn't know if the servers would be tipped at the party, and I brought some in case they would." My wallet was stuffed into my pocket, and I was glad that it didn't show from the outside or Tierney likely would have demanded that I hand it over before heading out onto the runway.

"And here you were getting on my case for bringing money," Veronica snickered.

The difference there was that she'd brought exact change. Hadn't I said that on the bus? She got dismissive when I said so then, but now she was just smiling. "You're confusing too," I replied.

"Let's all be confusing!" she exclaimed loudly, smiling broadly. "The world is confusing! Let's rise to the challenge! Come on!" And then she scampered off, to the next corner, where she turned on her heel and waited with her hands behind her back.

By the time I caught up with her, she'd done a few spins in place. "You're going to get your dress all sweaty," I chided, but I got the feeling she wasn't paying attention.

"Ooooooh, look at that!" she announced, pointing dramatically at an old-looking hotel. "They have a western tea service! Let's go!"

I would have protested, but her bringing attention to the subject of food had brought to mind that I was quite hungry myself, so I followed along.

The interior, past the uniformed doorman who held the doors for us, was broad and tall, with vaulted ceilings and thick metal rails down the staircase that trailed up a side of the room to a mysterious balcony with tiny black and white photographs dotting the wall. It took almost no effort to imagine the place playing host to the worlds' elite, to picture this being a centerpoint of prestige.

As I looked around, marvelling at the moulding and detail, I could hear Veronica asking for a seat for two in the dining room. Glancing over at her, I couldn't help but think how she breached the worlds. Still very much a child, that much was clear by looking at her in all her frills and ribbons. But acting very much as an adult, that much was clear by her composed boldness.

But Asaph had told us to hold onto our youth, despite our maturity, so I wondered if I could live in this time and be nine for longer than I logically could. It was impossible, of course, but ah, such a dream.

We were led to a tiny table near the centre fixture of the room, big enough only for the two of us, with her purse having to take rest wedged behind her back. That fixture loomed over us, a giant round sitting structure with an inner rise crowned by an opulent blooming plant, and decked with plush seats. One of them was next to us, pulled up to our table as if expecting an uninvited guest. But Veronica and I sat across from each other, and she smiled as if she had done this every day.

"I love tea, the whole service. Something about food being so much more special when it's small and ceremonial, you know?"

I glanced at the small glossy menu set before us, next to the prearranged teacups with double chargers and faux-silver table setting. "I suppose. Domestic tea ceremonies can't hold my attention, but I appreciate the sentiment. I've never had a western tea before."

She giggled as she sorted through the small basket of jams that sat at the edge of the table. "The tea tastes so good though! You should try to sit through one. The reward's well worth it. But you don't get little cakes with it. Ooh!" Selecting a tiny glass jar from the basket, she opened it with a flourish of her wrist. "I love marmalade. Mama tells me I have to watch my weight, but things like this...well, she's not here, is she?"

I took a jar of strawberry preserves. "Something a bit sweet. I suppose this means the scones will be rather bland."

She looked at the menu as well. "Probably." Leaning in conspiratorially, she confided "I can never eat those without getting crumbs everywhere. It's a good thing Asaph isn't here either!"

"A lack of authority figures is certainly exciting," I agreed. "What are we going to do after this?"

Leaning back, she smirked. "How about you pick the next activity?"

"Oh well then!" But despite my enthusiastic reception to this idea, I had to pause to think. I hadn't seen much of Viridian. "Well...I think we're just a few blocks from the art museum."

Veronica scoffed, her expression turning to a frown. "Jiriiiiiii" and it came out in a long high tone "We do that so much! Viridian is a big city!"

"But they have a new exhibit," I told her. "That'll be something we haven't seen before, and I don't think Asaph will take us to it." It was on automobiles, the classic designs rarely seen in modern builds. Asaph didn't appreciate the artwork of machinery, considering it far too practical to be viewed as proper art. But I disagreed. A sleek design was as artistic as any jewel or painting.

"Aah fine. I guess I did let you pick. You're so boring sometimes!" But she was smiling again anyway.

A server appeared, seemingly out of thin air given our distracted attentions. "Are you ready to order? Two Peter Bunearies?"

That was the name that was given to the insultingly base children's menu, and Veronica shook her head. "Absolutely not! We'd like the full service, please."

The woman eyed us for a moment. While the full service menu was far more to our tastes, it was also three times more expensive, and there were two of us. "All right, of course."

We placed our orders and Veronica adjusted her hat. "I swear, the nerve of some people," she said, ensuring that Ralts's pokéball was firmly in place. "Assuming something like that. We're almost adults."

"I remember that story," I commented. "The one the service is named for. A Buneary sneaks out and gets into all sorts of trouble."

Veronica laughed, the dainty society laugh we were taught. "Ah yes. One would think a Buneary wearing a jacket would be a giveaway that it was special."

"Didn't he lose his jacket at one point?"

She thought for a moment. "I'm not sure. It's been years since I've read that."

"Me too..." There was something lost there, wasn't there? It was supposed to be a childhood canon, part of the means that form us, and we'd both forgotten how it went.

"There's someone at school who named their Nidoran Peter, because of its ears," she mused softly. "But when it evolves, the name won't fit any more."

The tea came and was poured elegantly into cups, the leaves falling into metal nets placed over the teacups. We waited until the waitress was gone to continue our conversation. I'd ordered a light tea from China and sipped at it although it was far too hot to do so. Veronica stirred in some honey to her herbal tea and waited. "Have you given any thought to naming your Ralts?" I asked as she tapped her spoon at the side of her cup. "Or will you?"

"I'm not sure. I can't think of any name that would suit her. But Ralts aren't like humans. In the wild they don't give each other names."

"Are there any species that do?" I asked.

"Jynx do. They have a pretty complex language, although they have difficulty speaking most human languages. Something about the way their throats are formed. Aaaaand..." That tapping again, though her spoon was clean of tea, and she looked up at the ceiling, speckled with paint to give the impression of wear and age. "And I think Yamask do but that whole thing is really creepy...'

I'd heard of them, those creatures that were said to have once been human. I wasn't sure if that was true or not, but they were often found in ancient tombs and had taken on the death masks of those buried there. And they guarded treasure, things they never used but prevented anyone from taking. How silly of them. The dead person wasn't about to enjoy such things, and the Yamask certainly weren't, so why not let the living take and enjoy the treasures within? To bury them was just a waste.

I must have been smiling because Veronica burst into laughter, louder than before. "Let me guess. Yamask to tombs to treasures to your collection, right?"

"You know me too well." She was only mostly right, as I hadn't yet connected it to myself yet, but it was certainly heading there.



The tea service was phenomenal. Elegant though accessible, with simple delicacies that satisfied my hunger for the finer things in life. But I must confess it distressed me. Such simple things and yet they were far more than my normal life. It was frustrating to bite into a delicious cucumber sandwich only to realize that even my father could make something like this and yet chose not to.

Veronica was her usual garrulous self, speaking of school, of home, of art and society. In turn I told her of my studies, of the clippings that decorated my room, of the madness that consumed Seafoam every summer surrounding the surfing competition.

"You know, my mother's had a few of her sportwear designs in that competition. The Humungadunga attracts a lot of athletes from around the world, so it's great press for her."

"I don't know how you can say that name with a straight face," I told her, admiring a painting on the wall. "I absolutely refuse to say such an inane name."

She chuckled. "Sometimes I think you're just a very tiny old man. You come off as so relaxed about things but sometimes your sense of humor just..." She trailed off, shaking her hands in the air to dismiss the unfinished sentence. "I know you have one though. That's more than some people. But you're not a very spontaneous person either, today excepted."

I leaned back in my chair, the plush walls of it taking the edge off the surrounding people as it blocked them from view. "Yes...I must admit that I thought I'd need more quiet. But the museum will provide that."

"Quiet?"

"Yes, after all the hustle and bustle of our outings, even our normal ones, I need solitude for a while to get my thoughts in order."

Veronica reached for the last of the tea cakes, a small lemon bar. "Mm, strong. You seem like you have your thoughts in order all the time. Nothing really seems to get to you."

I thought back to my outburst the year before, when I'd broken my father's book and stormed out of the house. "Not much, I suppose. Shall we move on? The museum awaits!"

She paid for both of us, something I'd wondered if she'd do, and we left, tumbling out of the doors as we both laughed for the sheer joy of our freedom. It had come on suddenly, exhasperatingly, and we willingly gave ourselves to the emotion. Being outdoors in the city was a thrill we'd yet to adjust to, and I hoped we never would. But Veronica lived here, albeit off in the distance, and it had yet to wear out in her mind, so I had hopes for the future.

The sights lay out around us, filling us with a sense of an exotic locale. Buildings wore faded paint ads for businesses that no longer existed, and large ancient vertical signs for things that did. It was a young city as far as the world knew, but it had seen its share of time pass by, and looked akin to some of the faraway cities I'd read about so longingly. Someday I'd see them, but for now their younger sibling would have to suffice.

The past century had seen a boom, and our route took us by several places that had been constructed in that fat era. We'd been relatively untouched by war, even though it had decimated places as nearby as Celadon, so we had far more of our past to bear. And it was beautiful to behold, the modern era rising and swelling around us with the bounty of endless energy. Wood gave way to brick, brick gave way to steel and glass, and all of it suited the city perfectly. Viridian, the eternally green paradise, was our present and we meant to enjoy it fully.

A park lay to our left as we continued on, block after block of tall trees and statuary, with people and pokémon taking up the benches that dotted the path. "We should go through there later," I pointed out.

Veronica glanced over, a spring in her step. "Eeeeh," she muttered. "That area smells bad. I think people sleep there."

That was a trainer's life, wasn't it? Going wherever, sleeping where they pleased, taking up space. None of them were even looking at the statues, and that was a pity far beyond anything else. "So close and yet so far," I murmured.

"You're doing it again," she chided me. "I'm guessing you had some thought that led up to that, but it didn't make any sense coming off of what I said. Remember, Asasph told you that you have to elaborate more so you don't come off as odd. Why do you do that, anyway?"

"I don't know. Things make perfect sense to me."

"We're not mind readers, Jiri," she giggled, but it was broken as she glanced back and forth as we passed by a bench dominated by drunken scofflaws and a shaggy Growlithe that may well have been inebriated as well. I could guess that she was trying to ignore them, based off her increase in pace.

"I do--" I was about to tell her that I don't suppose mind readers would be permitted to attend auctions when she grabbed my wrist, an action that made me pull my hand away. "I don't mind holding hands, but please try to show less force!"

Her brow was furrowed again; was she trying to concentrate? Was she upset? Perhaps she'd misread me. "Well, there's the museum."

There indeed. The building wasn't much on the outside, a misleading box of brick propped up on a slab of cement that had been dotted by a few sculptures. It was easy to pass it by, to mistake it for something it wasn't, but the rewards inside were the whole of the world.

We together walked up the stairs to the front entrance, and I commented that they ought to have a doorman here as well as I held the steel-edged door for her. She didn't respond, keeping her eyes on the floor as she passed me by. A novel thing to do. I did the same as I followed her in, experiencing my familiar surroundings in a new way. How smart of her!

I noticed she didn't check her pokéball at the coat check although people were asked to do so. As much as I valued the rules of society, Veronica wasn't likely to make Ralts known at any point, so I figured it wouldn't be worth it to say anything. Not that a Ralts couldn't cause trouble in a museum, of course. But I knew Veronica.

She was laughing again, having received a compliment on her outfit from the clerk, and enthusing about her mother's design. The clerk was all too eager to see mine then, and I twirled around slowly just as I had a few hours ago. The attention was odd. We were here to see things, not to be seen, and I had the feeling of being on display myself. That would be interesting, I mused, to be the art itself and be admired by all who beheld me. Oh, what a dreamer I was!

But we were surrounded by the bounty of the world, and so personages had to be left at the door. Nothing was ever meant to surpass the art, and even the grandest person would be so much background noise before the pieces.

Veronica was already inside, looking around. "So where to first? The silver room?" That was her favourite, I recalled.

"I want to see the automobile exhibit." I thought I'd told her, but in retrospect I may have simply thought it. Even so, I was positive I'd said the new exhibit.

"Oh huh. It's closed today."

I stood still for a moment, staring at her. "But the museum's open."

She wandered over to a sign, taking an inordinate amount of time to do so. "It says that they have to have more security on it so they don't offer it every day."

Had she not understood me? "But the museum's open," I repeated, slower and more distinctive. Perhaps I'd rushed my words before, so I made certain she would hear me.

"I know that." She was slow and distinctive as well, staring back at me. "I can't do anything about that. We'll have to come back." Her mood had shifted considerably, away from the distinctly cheerful ebullience from a moment ago.

"Odd, I hadn't figured you to take much interest in that exhibit." I started heading in, passing the room of prehistoric continental art.

"What's that mean? You're so weird." After a chuckle, she followed along. "I hadn't figured you for a car guy either. You don't seem the sort."

I paused in front of an especially realistic sculpture of a working man. "The designs fascinate me. They're beautiful, to have a functional work of art. At least those are. Commonplace machines lose their beauty, not only because of their being everywhere, but because they're dumbed down. I wish I knew why they did that."

Veronica smiled. "Maybe they want to keep the special ones special. Like people, like how we're shining stars. We wouldn't be if everyone was."

That made as much sense as anything, although I doubt that was the aim of the companies. "We're very rare, that's certain. But I still want to see them."

"You can always come back. It'll be here for a while longer." She examined the sculpture, shivering slightly, before moving on to a red bench that wasn't for sitting.

"I suppose." I had to remind myself of that, that it would be there and I could see it. Otherwise I'd be very put out by the whole affair. What sort of museum couldn't afford basic manpower for its exhibits? It put a damper on the whole thing.

"You're frowning, right? It's hard to tell."

"Hmm?" I held a hand to my face, and sure enough the corners of my mouth were tightened down. "I suppose I am. It's frustrating."

"Tell me about it. This is what, the fifth time today that I've told you how hard to read you are? But I suppose that makes you a good dealer, since people can't tell what you're thinking. You'll be a wiz at negotiating."

That hadn't been what I meant at all. But she was right about the future, I hoped. "Once I have things to negotiate with. I've got my eye on a sculpture for sale downtown." One of the many art galleries in Seafoam had caught my attention with a piece of a Wingull nest, and I sensed that the price was due to skyrocket due to the market shifting towards natural scenes. "How boring though."

"I missed something, didn't I? Let's go to the silver room!" She reached for my hand again, this time more genteelly, and we went off together, me biting back that she was doing the same thing I did.




What a brilliant event, the two of us wandering the museum of our own accord! From the silver room to the ancient treasures of the Orange region (none of my brilliant Lugia, though) to paintings from a distant continent and era, we were free to behold whatever we pleased. Free in a world of beauty and perfection, the highest freedom we could imagine. I never wanted it to end.

But of course it had to. Even paradise has its working hours, and the Viridian Museum closed its doors after far too short a time.

It was after dark, and Veronica pulled her fringed top tighter.

"If I had a jacket, I'd offer it to you," I told her, although it would make no difference for her to know a theoretical situation.

"I appreciate it. Chilly for this time of year."

"Oh?" I took in the night, the breeze between the buildings, the streetlamps over us, the people in the park across the way. "It's fairly warm for me. But Seafoam tends to be colder than further inland."

"In that case, I wish I had your fortitude," she murmured. "Let's get back to the bus stop in a hurry."

"All right." The shortest route was through the park, and I started off that way automatically.

"Jiri, where are--" Heaven only knows what she was planning on finishing that with. But she followed along a moment later, linking her arm in mind as she came up beside me. "Don't say anything, ok?"

I nodded. Was this a game? But I could play along, even if I couldn't tell her to do anything in return.

We continued through the park as she held tight to me, nearly through when one of the drunkards stepped out in front of us, smelling of all manner of debris and filth. "Going somewhere?"

Veronica kept me moving, trying to steer me around him.

He held out a rough, dirty hand. "There's a fee for fancy people to pass through. Hand over your money."

That was trouble. She broke away from me and we both started to run, and both of us were stopped by growling dogs. The Growlithe in front of me snarled, backing me towards her again, while she was cornered by a Houndour with its fur in patches. "...Jiri, why did you go through the park! You knew I didn't want to go through the park!" Her words were slightly drawn out and a bit higher and thicker than usual. "Aaah fine!" she exclaimed before I could answer. "I didn't want to have to do this, but go! Ralts!"

She'd taken off her hat and brandished Ralts's pokéball, triggering it to release the small psychic-type. Ralts appeared with a chirp of its name, twirling around in the air before landing in front of the Houndour.

Once she had sent out Ralts, attention seemed to be off me, something I was glad for. I wandered on the outskirts, not wanting to be involved but not wanting to abandon Veronica either. I could have run, but no gentleman would run. Would it be gentlemanly of me to try to fight the muggers myself? Asaph had never covered this situation, and Veronica had told me not to say anything, so I was puzzled in silence.

"Since I'm such a nice guy," the filthy man laughed, "I'll let you go first."

She was up against a massive type disadvantage, but she stood her ground. Her mouth tightened and eyes narrowed, pink dress looking inflamed under the streetlamp. "Ralts! Double Team!"

Ralts squealed and focused itself, creating identical false images of itself through force of will. The Houndour looked unimpressed, despite the ring of Ralts around it. With what seemed to be a roll of its eyes, it brought its teeth down on one at random.

All the images vanished. Bite had been super-effective, and Ralts was knocked out, tossed out of the Houndour's mouth like a toy. Veronica cried out and scrambled about with her hat, recalling Ralts and trying to hide the ball again.

"Say, that's a nice hat," the man said, approaching. "Would look awfully nice on Daisy here."

She took a step back. "...You can't have it!"

"Don't think you have much of a choice. Give it here, or I take it out of your friend here."

I felt that hand coming at me and ducked just in time. He managed a handful of blue fabric that I was grateful was slick, as it enabled me to slip out of his hold. He reached for Veronica, who was holding her hat down with both hands on the floppy sides. "Stop it!" she screamed. "Get away! Jiri, run!"

I couldn't leave her, so I darted only a short way, a few bench lengths to the end of the block. She was struggling with the man, who'd grabbed her hat and was pulling at the ribbon. After a moment that seemed to hang in the air, it ripped away from the hat, sending her tumbling back. But her hands didn't move from her prized crown, and neither the man nor his dogs seemed to have any interest in chasing us once they had extricated the ribbon.

She didn't speak either, just concentrated on running, and so did I. It was as if our very souls depended on it, no matter if they followed us or not. The city was reduced to its sidewalks, and nothing else mattered.

Reaching the bus stop was akin to finding a holy land, and I thought of a painting we'd just seen of exactly that. Veronica clung to the post that announced the times, swinging around it to bring herself to a stop, her breathing heavy from her open mouth. It was far too long before she said anything, and when she did it was low and precise. "Why would you take us through there? You saw those dangerous people and you dragged me in there anyway!"

I shook my head, not wanting to break my promise not to speak.

"Say something!" she yelled, clamping onto my arm with her hand tight. "Tell me why I lost my ribbon! Tell me why you're SMILING!"

I had been and knew it, thinking of that painting of the weary travellers reaching their destination. It had relaxed me, put me in a world apart from our terrifying reality. She told me to talk, but words jumbled around in my head. "...It was fastest," I managed, letting out a breath. "To cut through the park would take about three minutes off our walk."

"You didn't think!" Still yelling. "You didn't think about those people! You saw them on the way in! Didn't anything at all set off any red flags for you?"

I thought about it. I remembered a man with a Growlithe, but nothing had really stood out. "Really I didn't notice."

Another thing happened that I didn't expect. She brought her hand up and slapped me across the face, not very strong, but enough to get her point across. She was furious and made me know it. "I'm sick of this! You never notice anything! You get us into this situation and now I have to go home without my ribbon!"

She wasn't making any sense. We weren't here by my volition, after all. "But Veronica, it was your idea."

She shrieked, loudly, as a bus drove up and the door opened. "Everything ok?" the driver asked.

"Just frustrated," she told him. "Is this the bus to south Viridian?"

The driver laughed. "South Viridian? Hoo boy, no. That stops running at five."

Her eyes widened, and she looked down. "I see. That's ok. We'll find another way."

"Well, the pokémon center's about two blocks east from here. There's phones there if you need to call anyone."

"All right. Thank you, sir." Her voice was higher again, and softer, as she took a step back and waited for the door to close. As the bus drove off, the driver taking another look at us, she turned away. "...come on. I'm sorry for slapping you. It's my fault."

Was she still mad? Her fury seemed to have dissipated, but she'd said she was frustrated. I followed her. "I was smiling because I was thinking about a painting."

"What?"

"You asked my why I was smiling."

"Oh..." She let out a long breath. "We have to admit to all this. Our parents and Asaph are going to be completely furious. They've probably been looking for us. I didn't know it was so late."

I followed along without a word, not wanting to say anything even though I could. Trainers were so base, so far beneath us. How could people like that man be the ideal of most children? Neither of those dogs were of any value, and that's what battling did. That's what it did to people as well, made them value strength and intimidation above anything else.

"I have to heal Ralts first. But I should make the call. Yes..." Higher still, softer still, and I wasn't sure if she was talking to me or to herself.

The centre came into view, a rise of a building, a giant dome with a plaza of stairs in front. Veronica straightened her hat, said "Here goes nothing", and took a few marching steps into the street.

And then a car came from seemingly nowhere, turning in a wide berth and screeching to a halt in front of us. Asasph's car, unmistakably so. And he was driving it, rather than his usual chauffeur.

"Get in," he told us from the rolled-down window. I don't think I'd ever heard his voice so terse, nor him so short-winded.

"How did you find us?" I had to wonder.

"No talking, either of you." He hadn't bothered with driving gloves, and I could see in the light from the open door that his knuckles were white around the steering wheel.

As I slid in next to Veronica, she took my hand and gave it a squeeze. But this time I pulled it away, and we may as well have been half a world from each other.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

I realised, as time went by, that my perception of my surroundings changed with experience. The familiar small town of Seafoam was dull and listless, but passing through a small town where I had never been brought my mind alive, and I wondered about all the people milling about, what filled their lives. Even the routes we took through the big cities had become tiresome, those scenes that had once magnetized my attention now mapped out in detail in my brain, but to take another path to even the same location reawakened me.

One thing that I never grew weary of was the destination, because it was always art. While I would be bored to tears with the same view, the same street, the same buildings, I could stare for hours at the same paintings, the same sculptures, the same silverworks.

I muddled through my schoolworks, barely paying them any of my distracted mind. What we were taught had nothing to do with my path in life, and I almost pitied those who it did. Almost, of course, because they had every opportunity to break from their grey paths and open themselves to the full colour of the world.

How foolish, to live willingly in that place! No, my world would be far distant from theirs, although we would occupy the same space. A world apart, on the same planet. How silly to think how simple it all had been so far, and how far I'd come in just a short time.

I reflected a lot on that of late, the ease in which I'd been able to achieve what I had. Surely this was destiny! I was meant to be a collector, and the thought was quite divine. Divine, of course, in the most literal sense. Such objects filled me with a fervor, knowing that I held around me something so immortal, so far beyond the everyday sphere.

And none was the wiser. That tiny room in my father's house, outcropped over the sea, contained the works of the world. Or what little of the world I could obtain, with my comparatively limited funds. Yet even that small fragment was a spectrum of wonder far greater than anyone around me could ever concieve.

Though surrounded by dinge and fade, I had my sanctuary. Along all walls, every space filled with treasures present or distant. Those I had truly garnered fanned out along the east wall, the single window there illumininating them at the day's dawn, that image the first thing I would see upon waking. My bed lay along the south wall, a simple thing beneath the window overlooking the ocean, so I disguised there and the west wall with images snipped from magazines of the finest things in life. To dismiss those as simple pictures! Alas, I remembered from what seemed like ages ago when they were remarked on as such, and couldn't help but chuckle. Even Helen was ignorant to their true nature, as I fully intended on acquiring each one of them in the future.

The closet, tucked away next to the door, was graced with a neat row of my new, more sophisticated clothes, with those my father had foisted on me hidden on a shelf across, so that they wouldn't sully my prefered wardrobe with their unwanted touch.

Perhaps an aside is in order. I kept them for appearances, how ironic! I would gladly be rid of them in an instant were it not for my father expecting to see me in them on certain occations of exclusively his own interests. He knew the importance of dressing well to meet his clients, but there it ended! A gentleman must be at his best at all public times, yet he clung to the excuse of simply not being at his office to explain away why he continued to wear such atrocities as tank tops and ripped shorts. Those things that he wore during construction! Their purposes ended at the factory door, yet he insisted! How terribly backwards. Simply the thought of it sent my spine shuddering. And I had to don similar wear despite discomfort from all angles at the act. Ah, how funny that even something as common as cotton could rise from the coarseness of those simple garments to the softness and elegance of a fine button-down with the proper guidance.

Ah, I digress. I had a goal for the day.

I closed the closet door behind me, sitting amidst my finery on a chest that held my out of season garments. This unfortunately meant that I was facing that which I described, but I wasn't looking at it. Taking out a hand mirror--a cheap purchase at a drugstore--I began to speak.

"Ahaha! Of course, the use of white conjures the idea of cold."

"Why my dear such-and-such, you look divine! It's been ages, darling."

"Charming, charming!"

Such pithy statements! Even Asaph knew that. But small talk and meaningless comments were an art onto themselves, one that collectors were expected to master. It was like a verbal dance, with the main movement of the body being unimportant and all meaning in the hands and face.

He told me to watch my tone, as it was often flat. I would be percieved as passionless if that continued, so I practiced the ups and downs of my voice as though I was a singer or a stage performer. I may well have been a stage performer, for all the rehearsal it required, but without a script to rely on. I would have to write my own script, with a mind to the rules that the dialogue be inane.

Whatever purpose it served, it seemed to be effective, for whatever strange reason that was beyond my understanding. People seemed to respond better to me when I said such things, so I had no reason to stop.

I think it was some sort of code. By saying things that no one would normally say, I established that I spoke their secret language.

Some of my pictures were held in that tiny room as well, integrated into this process. I moved one of the repulsive shirts aside and took up a stack of photocopies. This was what the mirror was for, in whole.

On the back of one I had written "happiness". The front had the image of a young woman with her mouth curved up to where her teeth were visible, and her eyes were narrowed from the movement. I wasn't sure what indicated happiness about it, but the photograph, taken some fifty years before and held in high regard among those who collected such things, was said to be exemplary in the subject's joy. And so I mimicked her smile, though to me it looked like any other. Adjusting my face to take on these unfamiliar expressions was strange, but it too seemed to have its purposes.

How odd though. I expressed myself, and obviously at that, never trying to obscure myself. This seemed as though I was exposing too much of my heart, yet Asaph called it sublety. Did other collectors expend all their energy and observation on their pursued pieces with no room in their minds for anything else? Perhaps that was why their special code was so simplistic.

Maintaining that smile, I examined myself in the mirror and spoke again.

"The reds give such a vivid, lively feel to the otherwise boring landscape." I redid it. Collectors don't say things like "boring" when speaking to other collectors. "The reds give such a vivid, lively feel to the otherwise drab landscape." And I still wasn't sure if that was right.

Another picture, this of a frowning old man. It was what I would term a scowl, but others said that it was merely an effect of ancient photography requiring the sitter to remain still for quite a long time. Perhaps he was simply an unpleasant fellow to begin with, or perhaps it was his unfortunate resemblence to a granbull that caused the assumption.

"I think so-and-so's suits are quite overrated for the price." No, I had to do that again, we didn't mention price either. "So-and-so's suits are quite common," with "common" stressed to imply that it was beyond mere number, but rather something that the great unwashed would wear. Inflection was important as well, as it could change the meaning of a word through implication.

Changing back to the first image, I repeated her smile and closed my eyes, thinking of the position of every muscle in my face. I wouldn't always have a mirror close at hand, so I had to memorize these things from feel alone.

It was arduous work, trying to maintain this artificial facade. But I looked on it as an art in itself. To exaggerate myself to that degree was to be literally larger than life, and that was something that lent itself quite well to my desired path. I would be among so many pieces that were more than the sum of their parts, so I had to project myself accordingly.

Although that didn't prevent it from being irritatingly repetitive.

"The empty space summons up such a hollowness in the piece." Collectors, for whatever reason, loved to attribute deep meaning to white or black spaces, thinking them truly significant. While certainly they could draw the eye and could make a piece more aestheticly pleasing, surely sometimes they would simply be what was in front of the artist! Yet no one seemed to consider that basic possibility, no matter how drawn from life they recognized the piece to be.

As I grew, I became increasingly aware of the absurdity of life. Children encouraged to leave into the world and bond with animals, while adults created meaningless lives for themselves, devoid of any interest or colour. Both wedged themselves into their tight roles and refused to budge, as stubborn and listless as Ursarings in winter, and any outside the tiny scrap of the world left visible from their select view was something ignored.

I had been set on the path through that grey world once, not knowing anything else. My father had saved money for a trainer journey, and doubtless I would be settling into that life in some other world where I had not discovered art. And yet that discovery had been so <i>simple</i> that it was a shock as to how rare it was to live with color and spark. A brush had been drawn across my life, painting across it the finest things, while those around me remained colourblind.

And it baffled me. Nothing had stood in my way, I realised, and there had been nothing special about me. How many others would there be if they simply looked around?

But it was best this way. Shining stars and all that, as we had been told. As I had been told all that time ago.

I missed her, of course, my dear mother. But with more and more to fill my days, the grief had faded.

With some sense of irony, I had to chuckle at the next photograph being marked "sorrow". Perhaps this was what I had looked like when first brought to this place, mouth turned down and corners tight, eyes squinted and watery, brows like thin wings wavering above.

I had trouble imagining this face on anybody. It seemed distant, something almost comical, contraindicitive of the specified emotion. Asaph, perhaps. Both his parents had passed, yet I couldn't picture him grieving in any such way. Lucrezia had worn a kimono that marked her as a widow, but her jolly, boisterious presentation made it impossible to imagine her otherwise. Even having seen her wrath was still seeing her in bombast, an overwhelming wind surrounding her.

Her son either, the notorious ground trainer. Following that thought, he had lost his father, and yet his smooth and even manner remained in any image I could summon.

Someone closer; Helen perhaps. I'd witnessed her in cheer, in irritation (mostly directed towards my father), in seriousness, in wonderment, but never in sorrow, not like this. I knew she experienced it, thinking back on a story she had told of a failed attempt at breeding her Ninetales that had ended in a stillborn Vulpix of a deep yellow colour. It upset her still, though this had taken place before I was born, and she had paused to wipe away tears many times. Yet that past sadness looked nothing like this image, despite the photograph's pedigree. It had been messy, with unmentionable fluids and a sickness to her, though at the time I had simply wondered, silently of course, if a Fire Stone would have still forced evolution.

Ah yes, the sciences. My studies--my own studies, far from my classes, of course--had fallen on the display cage that had shown the Omastar to all. It was remarkable, and I wondered if there was a way to alter it to display pieces in suspension. Something magnetic could be isolated to display a work in metal while not interfering with anything around it, but that would leave any works of other matter. It was a puzzlement that perplexed me, and I wondered if I could contact the engineer.

Of course, I would have to. I couldn't figure it out on my own. Even as a collector, I was beholden to those who had trod that path before, those gatherers, those artists, those merchants, those patrons. The entire of the art world would be mine, and the thought was intoxicating. I would be an intrinsic part of the very culture of everything. Ah! but that didn't matter! To be a movable part of something eternal, to know that I possessed a collection of true immortality, and to dwell amongst it for as long as I could, those were all I cared about.

Every thought led back to that far too distant future. Time flowed far too slowly, as if testing my patience and resolve to reach that grand goal. But I didn't care. I'd reach it eventually, no matter what my present situation threw at me; no matter the monochrome of my environment, I would burst into the full spectrum!

I realised at that point that I was laughing. When that had happened I wasn't sure, but I was glad that it was a soft, gentlemanly laugh. It had been a rather funny thought, I mused, though the sentiment in it was the absolute truth.

That truth must have been why, when I saw myself in the mirror, I looked nothing akin to the pictures of mirth. Which only complicated things. I felt happy, silly even, and none of that was reflected in pictures supposing to showcase those very things.

Of course, I'd seen those features on others; those shining eyes, those broad smiles, but it was so different that had it not been entirely situational, I wouldn't have seen it at all. How odd, how strange, how confusing! But that was the way of things, wasn't it?

"Of course, it's all part of the game," I chirped merrily at the mirror. But that just made me think of when I'd played chess with Asaph. It had been so long ago, and I suddenly wanted to again. I set the mirror aside and stood, tucking the pictures under the clothes again and carefully arranging things before closing the closet door behind me and heading for the phone to ring him.

I knew from experience that the telephones in his home were fancy things, modern yet in the more ornate style of old movies. There was a certain glamour element in the mystique of old Hollywood that many collectors found themselves emulating, the idea of a subtle world of grandeur all around us if we simply knew how to seek it out. Even the everyday was glamourous when captured in that unique way, and even collectors had everyday lives. Of course, that was what I sought, to have that majesty at my fingertips at all moments. So by the time it rang, I was a bit envious already.

"Asaph's residence, may I ask who calls?" That was his butler, who only came on occasionally. It was an odd arrangement, very atypical, and led to me having no idea of the man's name.

"Yes, this is Jirarudan. May I speak with the master of the house?"

There was a shuffling of papers, and I suspected he was turning pages in a notebook. "Master Asaph is unavailable."

I thought as much. He was still refusing my calls, after the impromptu jaunt through the city. "Ah, very well. Thank you."

"However, he does have a message for you."

"Oh?" That was surprising. I didn't expect that he would want to have any sort of communication with me until later. Though in honesty, I felt he was vastly overreacting.

"Master Asaph wishes to inform you of his representation in the upcoming exhibit of collectors of the Kanto region in Fuschia City."

Ah, so that was why he had spent so much time in Mr. Higuchi's company. Such fortune being minted at that party! It was beautiful, how everything came together like that, my star shining amidst the light of his. "Thank you for informing me."

"Have you anything further?"

I had the suspicion that at an earlier, uneducated point in my life I would have simply hung up at that. "Tell him I await hearing from him. Thank you."

After ending the call, I rested the phone on my bedside table and leaned back on my bed. Such a beautiful thing it must be to lend to an exhibit! To have so many view that which you'd brought together!

But how many of them would understand it? How many would see it and move on without any impact? I frowned. That simply wouldn't do. It was a distressing thought, but I did trust his judgement. I'd have to ask him the next time we spoke.

"Master Asaph wishes to inform you--" I repeated. Something had unsettled me in that when it was said, but I wasn't sure what until I heard it in my own voice. Why, it was a benefit that I hadn't caught it at the time, else I'd have thought he was dismissing me! To do so without a word would be inexcusably rude, after all. I was grateful that it hadn't been the case, but how strange that I would worry of it after nothing of the sort was said.

I sighed as I reached over to pull the shade closed, taking a look at the sky as I did. A storm was coming, and in those months it would bring with it some bitter cold far removed from the season. I wondered briefly what Articuno did on its rumored nearby island in that weather, where it took shelter. Though the cold was meaningless to an ice type, and nothing compared to what would come in a scant few months, the wind and rain were sure to drive at its land.

And they did me no favours either. Such weather only reminded me of my position overlooking the ocean, already no doubt heavy with thick-capped waves and grey swells. Someday I would overlook it all, the stormy grey of the world never touching me, but for the time, I burrowed under my blankets in anticipation.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

The streets of Seafoam were briefly coated in an artificial sense of festivity, as though it were carried on the ocean breeze. Storefronts trumpeted all summer long of vacation joy--always vacation, as though life here was transient for everyone--with nothing behind the facade, then quickly shuttered close. Even the art galleries focused on the surrounding area with no care beyond that limited scope. It was a world floating in a void, but it would have to do for the time being.

It was, I confess, a pleasant view. The plains gave way to the ocean in a crash of surf and rock, the greenery of the area belying the lifelessness of the buildings. Even my walk to the town, through it took some time, was pleasant, down a gentle slope that stretched across the top of a gradually evening cliff until it became flush with the flat land of the main roads. Sometimes, if the weather was disagreeable, I took the shuttle bus that looped around the town, but on fair days I preferred the walk.

It was on one of those days, in the early autumn, that I was notified of new works at a preferred gallery, and I was heading down to see them. It was clear and dry, to say nothing of unseasonably hot, though cool compared to further inland. Small miracles, I thought as I passed a row of houses. A familiar-looking woman watched me from the window of one, the same who had told Asaph of my ill behaviour. How strange to think that such a thing had been only the previous hear! I wondered if she'd notice the change in me, or if those details had been lost to the rabble.

No matter. I had my mission and wasn't to be dissuaded. Though I waved to her just the same, turning back to the road before I could see if she returned the gesture.

The sunshine was nice, especially knowing that awaiting us were several months of cold. Though it stormed and fogged and howled, Seafoam never grew truly dark, and yet it was never the right kind of light in that span of months. I would take in what I could, so I slowed my pace as I neared an expanse of woodland and walked in silence for a few minutes.

"Psst!"

That was an odd noise, standing out from the normal noise of wind and distant cars. I stood still, ocean breeze against me, as I tried to figure out where this thing was coming from.

"Psst! Jiri!"

I turned around, but nobody was there. Clearly I was hearing things. Perhaps a dream still lingered in me, or perhaps it was just a trick of the wind.

"Jiri! Over here!"

The harsher tone was coming from the bushes at the roadside. What could a person who would hide in the shrubs possibly want with me? But I approached anyway, a caution in my step.

The greenery shook, parting slightly for the person to stick their face out. There, crouched and clad in a cap and sunglasses, was Veronica. "I was wondering if you'd even notice."

"What are you--"

"Come with me!" she blurted. "Let's go on an adventure! We're out in the wild world, so let's enjoy ourselves!"

"How strange..." I mused, realising that I said it aloud. But something in her manner that I couldn't quite put my finger on seemed quite inspiring.

She was starting to become agitated, flapping her gloved hands in a tic reminiscent of a habit I'd had in my distant youth. "Come on! How many days are so perfect for adventuring?"

I smiled, softly I hoped. "I haven't any other plans. I suppose this is as good an activity as any."

Veronica let out a high-pitched squeal that caused me to rethink my agreement, and clapped her hands before extending her arm in an offering of companionship. "Then let's go! This is going to be so fun, la la la..."

"Are you singing?"

"Sure! Care to join me?"

"No thank you. But you're welcome to continue." I took her arm then, wrapping mine around hers as though we were entering a grand ball. But that image didn't last when she began singing aimless notes again.

And yet her tunelessness didn't bother me. It was easy to tell that she was happy; I didn't need my pictures for that. And her joy was infectious, prompting me to hum along in my own tune.

"I thought you said you didn't want to sing!" she declared with a giggle.

"Well, you see, I'm not singing, I'm humming."

"You're so weird!" Another laugh, giving way to more toneless vocalising and a bit of a skip in her step, still keeping pace with me. "Now, what shall our first adventure be, hmm hmm hmm? Exploring is always good! But we have to be careful, because we're being chased!"

"Oh, are we now?"

"Yep! By brigands! They want to make us find treasure for them!"

I'd been suspicious of her idea, but her explanation seemed too fanciful to be symbolic. We were playing out a story, the parts being imaginative rather than pulled from life. "That sounds like a lark. What are they after?"

She paused to think for a moment. "They're after our gold, of course! Gold is always what brigands want."

"I suppose you have a point. How do we know them when we see them?"

"Ah...They have black uniforms! Black uniforms and newsboy hats."

I'd seen them in the past, around Lucrezia's lavish beach house on the far side of town. "Ah yes, I'm familiar with them. We must avoid the mansions if we're to remain unnoticed."

She beamed. "Wonderful! Now, they're after us so we've got to stay safe. Follow me!"

"All right." Though I shouldn't have agreed so quickly, as her immediate reaction was to dive back into the bushes.

"Now then," she mused as I ducked down to join her, "we need to stay off the main roads. They have wicked knights looking for us."

It was an ancient tale now? I decided to go along again. "Don't forget the evil queen and dark prince."

"Of course. And if they catch us, they'll toss us in the hole and leave us there!"

She was spinning quite a tale. But it was delightful fun, at least so far. "Well we certainly don't want that. We'll do our best to avoid such a fate."

Her hand on her cap, she darted out of our hiding spot. "Come on! We have to keep on the move!" The new angle, her in front of me, revealed two long ribbons off the sides of her cap, tied back around her draped hair.

"Where are we going?" I wondered.

"Well..." She was headed somewhere, even if that place was whatever happened to be right in front of her, and didn't stop her pace. "Let's stay in the forest! We'll see what we can find that way."

The forest. Such things held no interest to me. "The city is far more interesting. Can't we go there?"

"Jiiiiriiiii..." It came out higher than her normal tone, and filled with more air. "The queen's forces are filling the streets! We can't risk it!"

This tale she spun was becoming confusing and we hadn't yet begun our adventure. But I complied. "All right. Lead the way."

"Good! Now, this way!" Back into the bushes we went, and I found myself wondering why we had ever left them. She pulled me along as though she had a decided place in mind.

"This is certainly not what I had in mind for the day..." I pondered to myself.




The green of the forest bled together as we continued on our fantastic path. It was as if we had wandered into an abstract, with only the occasional stroke of a brown trunk to break the single colour. Even the wild pokémon around us darted too quickly to register.

"Oh!" Veronica exclaimed, her dedicated path coming to a halt. "A hidden castle!"

I looked ahead. Before us was an abandoned treehouse, somehow holding up through unknown years. A Pidgey nest was visible on the simple handrail along the edge, though it was impossible to tell how long it had been there. Below it on the ground was the outline of a tyre swing, covered in leaves, and above it whisped the remains of a rotten rope. The whole thing was about as far from a castle as a structure could get.

"This castle was sacked by the evil queen," she muttered, bowing her head as if she was truly mourning. "Come on! Let's look for survivors!"

"Must we...?" But again I followed, this time up the blocks hammered into the trunk. Through some miracle they held. When I reached the top, Veronica was already looking about the small space. "What are you trying to find?"

She looked back at me for a moment, and the image of my study cards flashed in my mind, a picture said to be of longing. But that didn't make sense. She was having a merry time of things, so there had to be some mistake. "We're trying to find if anyone remains! There has to be--oh!"

The source of her surprise was a young Rattata, sniffing along the boards for acorns. "Oh, that's something. Is that what you're looking for?"

She knelt down before it, hand extended. "A survivor...Oh dear, you seem to be the only one. We arrived too late! I can offer only my apologies..."

The Rattata sniffed at her glove before scurrying away, down the tree and into the bushes. "Do we follow it?" I asked despite preferring that the sky would fall around us.

"No...it's enough to know." Slowly standing, she smiled. "We should leave it be. It's got enough to deal with. But maybe we can find something of value here."

"Are we tomb robbers?"

Veronica gasped in fake shock. "Absolutely not! We've been hired to sell what remains to rebuild the castle!"

With every word, her storyline seemed to further embrace surrealism. "I...suppose this...rock is worth something. Maybe those Pidgies brought it up here."

"Jirarudan! That's not a rock!" Her sudden insistence was a bit startling. "That's a gem from the royal sceptre! We need to take it with us!"

"Well...the king must be terribly worried about it." Queens rarely wielded sceptres, so I hoped that my choice matched with her vision. "But we have our mission. Shall we go?" I couldn't take a moment more in that dingy place, and despite my compliance with her fantasy, I was near about to leave.

"All right. The evil queen won't be coming back, so this place is as safe as it can be." She pushed past me and started down the ladder. "Town will be our best bet. We'll have to see what we can get for the gem."

I wondered if she was truly going to attempt to sell a plain rock. How far was this fantasy truly going to take us? Her decision to crown Lucrezia an evil queen--I knew that

Veronica was aware of who had been my thought, who owned the beach house surrounded by black-capped guards--was quite the visual, but a strange one. What would she do if we encountered the woman? Would she blurt out accusations of warmongering? Lucrezia may already demonstrate hostility towards us, making money as we had off of her back, although Asaph had doubted that she was aware of the source of our information. When I was back on solid ground, I immediately began wandering in the direction of the city centre, and was glad that Veronica followed along.




Seafoam was quiet, the tourists from inland having discarded it in favour of a daily life. Only a few remained, blending with the locals though sheer weakness of number, and for the most part milled around quietly. Veronica and I passed onto the main road without notice, though she stopped to peer around a building. "One can never be too careful with the queen's forces about."

Lucrezia would have returned to Viridian for business, and her son as well, so the chances of us running into anyone related to Veronica's tale were slim. "Ah...the queen and prince are elsewhere this season, and their forces have accompanied them. I think the chances of encountering them are low."

She vehemently shook her head. "She has spies everywhere. We have to be careful when moving about."

How far was she going to take this? "All right. How will we know them? By the uniform?"

"They wouldn't be spies if they dressed with the queen's emblem. We won't know them until they cause trouble, and that makes the city especially dangerous. We have to move so as to not bring attention to ourselves."

I had the suspicion that it would be far more difficult than that, especially since we seemed to be the only young people about at that hour, and were dressed irregularly sophisticated compared to our peers besides. "Are you positive that's possible?"

"Just act natural...or uh, try to act like a normal person. It'll take steely determination and an iron will to succeed in this labour."

Nothing I had studied through etiquette or my photo collection had any solutions on how to react to such a thing, though I wasn't certain if the entire sentence had been directed towards me or not. "I suppose that's awfully...metallic. Let's do our best."

"That's the spirit." It didn't sound much like how an upbeat phrase like that was meant to, but there were so many variations that it was hard to keep up. "Now, the gem market should be around here someplace."

The only gemstone store was in the small shopping mall in the middle of town, and I felt uneasy. Would she truly attempt to pass this common rock off as the fairy tale she handily spun? "At least we can see some jewellery. Not that the things in this town are worthwhile, but it'll be fun."

"This isn't a mission of fun, Jiri. This is serious." She peered around another corner before darting across the street.

By the time I caught up to her, I remembered another feature of the mall, a merry-go-round. "The king's steeds are being held captive in the middle of the fortress."

She shook her head. "No, they're false. Entertainment for those under the queen's control, so they don't notice the tyranny."

That was the first time she had contradicted me since we began on this bizarre improvised quest. "Ah, bread and circuses."

The common shops were closed, their purpose of feeding commercial goods to tourists fulfilled for another year, so the majority of the mall was silent. I hadn't been there for nearly a year, and even then it had been beneath me. In my childhood I may have enjoyed such a thing, at least the merry-go-round, or perhaps the novelty hat shop, but those days seemed so foreign and fogged.

We moved past so many dingy rooms, some of them empty for seemingly years, others stocked with shirts and trinkets awaiting the return of spring. One surprisingly lively shop carried upscale surfing equipment, an activity that drew people even in the coldest parts of winter, still months away. Yet our goal waited at the end of the hallway, the very heart of the single-level building.

There was the merry-go-round, with its signature blue-flamed Rapidash standing out among those surrounding it. Some were the typical normal Rapidash and Ponyta, even a Zebstrika, and others were more novel sorts such as Seadra and an unmoving Vileplume. The benches that usually adorned these devices were fashioned as Swanna, the distant, notoriously aggressive white bird. But it wasn't my white bird, so there was no point.

Though it was a rickety machine, and clearly only casually cared for, some considered it a work of art. Perhaps it had been in its heyday, but no longer, and that was a disappointment. Typical for Seafoam, however, taking in only the sea itself.

Veronica passed everything by, heading with heavier, quicker steps to the jewellery store. The stone in her hand was covered tightly by white knuckles as she crossed the threshold. But before I could catch up, she darted back, running towards a far door. "They've gotten to us! Run!"

Oh, so that was her plan. It was a bit disappointing; my curiosity having overtaken reason. I followed along swiftly anyway, passing a few employees along the way.

From behind us, a loud whistle blew, followed in a split-second by a harsh "STOP!" and the heavy footfalls of a security guard in pursuit.

"Run, Jiri! Don't let the guard get you!" she called from in front of me.

She hadn't stolen anything, that much I knew. She was running because of her stupid game. Did she really intend to let this go so far that we'd both get in trouble? I slowed in my pace, coming to a low jog. "Veronica, come back."

But she continued, the guard at her heel.

"It's a stupid rock," I called to her as the guard reached his prey, grabbing her shoulder and pulling her against a wall.

She let out a sharp cry as she wedged her firm fist between her body and the wall. "I won't let go!"

The man sighed. "Give it back, kid. You don't want the trouble. Look, your friend is telling you to stop."

"I can't let go! I have to get this to--" Her destination was cut off by the guard pulling her forearm back to reveal the contents of her hand, barely covered by her fingers.

He sighed. "Kid...really? You bring in a rock from outside and pretend that you're stealing it? I almost called Jenny in on you. Runnin' out of the jewellery store like that..."

Veronica rubbed her newly released arm. "...come on, Jirarudan. Our mission is over."

"Lousy kids and their pranks..." I heard the guard mutter as he slunk past me to his original location, rubbing the back of his head. "Never understand kids today..."

I followed to where Veronica had wandered, just outside the door to outside. Her breath was heavy, rising and falling her chest like a rapid tide. "...can't believe it..."

"Veronica, it was foolish. Why did you keep--"

But she turned and walked away from me. As she crossed the road I could see that the rock was still held tight in her hand. I gave her a moment before I followed, my mind turning over on itself trying to figure out her actions.




She was standing at a lookout point, a picturesque fence the only barrier between her and a cliff, and rolling the rock over again in her hands. She'd speak in time enough, I figured.

The view was certainly nice, even with the looming rock targeted by so many surfers in view, and my thought process from earlier came back. Around me, the air was cool and slow, breezing in from distant lands. Who knew what secrets had been whispered into it, the thousands of people feeling the same wind at that moment? It was a lovely thought, to be such a part of the world, as if I was already amidst the finest art. The depths of the world and its treasures would be mine for the picking, and it was an honour to be so blessed. To others, the breeze simply passed them by without notice, and so went the world.

Veronica noticed, though. She raised an arm to catch the wind, the other tossing the rock almost casually into the water before firmly planting on her hat to secure it, ribbons flapping as if they were birds in low flight.

"What's it like where you come from?" It was the first thing she'd said since the dawn of our adventure that took place outside the story.

"Far too quiet. Unsettlingly so." I spoke the truth, of course. That wretched, hateful town had been boring besides.

"Sometimes the quiet is nice." Her head was lowered, and I followed her gaze.

"What do you see?"

She took a moment before looking back at me. "I guess a lot, but I'm not really looking. Just thinking. You ever just space out?"

I laughed at that, reflecting on how very much of my time was spent deep in thought. "So very much," I declared, feeling as though I was repeating myself though I knew I hadn't spoken the first aloud. "Papa's always telling me to be more social. I suppose he means to have friends over rather than to have dealings and connections at parties. I don't understand why. I'm simply doing business like he does."

"Your birthday's later this month, isn't it?"

"Yes. I'll be ten."

She sighed. "I remember when I turned ten. I wanted a pokémon so badly. Even a Magikarp would have done."

"I can't see you with one. Something as clumsy and ungainly as that wouldn't suit you."

"Then what could you see me with?"

It was something I had to think about. She was so many things at once that attempting to narrow it to a handful of species was difficult. "Ralts does suit you. Eevee, Gothita, Chikorita, Murkrow..."

"Things just beginning their journey," she whispered. "First stage, not yet evolved. I can see that." A silence fell over us until she finally stated "You'd have a Xatu. It thinks about the past and future, but not the present. You're very much like them."

I chuckled. "I'd never thought of it that way. I suppose if I had to elaborate, I would say that Ralts is a given, Eevee is complex and changing, Gothita is stylish, Chikorita is..." I paused. "...I'm not sure. It just comes to mind. Oh, and Cresselia, of course, since you want it so much."

She grinned, something I hadn't seen for a while. "And you'd have Lugia. It's awfully funny-looking, but I guess Cresselia is too."

"The heart wants what the heart wants!" Perhaps it was a bit too enthusiastic on my part, because she took a step back. But then she laughed, so I continued. "We'll reach that point someday. After all, we're the shining stars."

"I guess we are. And shining stars can't be playing with rocks in the middle of town. ...I should go back home."

"Oh? I was hoping we could tour the galleries together."

She shook her head, her ribbons flowing slightly looser. "I don't feel up to it today. I'm going to go home and take a nap, then play with Ralts some."

"Do you want me to wait for the bus with you?"

"No..." Reaching into her pocket, she produced Ralts' pokéball. "If I don't see you before then, I'll see you at your birthday party, or whatever you have for it. Ta-ta!"

Before I could say anything, she and Ralts had teleported away. I knew that a creature of Ralts' limited power couldn't have gotten her far, and she was likely still in the town, but my part was at least over.

It had been a tiring day, but with the gallery ahead under the noonday sun, I supposed it was really just starting. Nothing that happened later could live up to that morning.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

Autumn had settled in, draping the coast in a veil of fog and chill. The sea below churned in grey fury, making the view from my window an experiment in monochrome. Though my adventure with Veronica had been only at the start of the month, the cold, threatened for some time, had settled in quickly, changing my environment rapidly.

With the time of year came my birthday, something I had attempted to avoid discussing with anybody. Though the year before I'd given my age as advanced by one before the date arrived, this year I understood the importance of youth, of preserving it while I could.

Yet ten was a milestone. This age was what flooded the streets and forests and plains with those starry-eyed children intent on entering the Pokémon League, perhaps to become the Champion, that grandest of all trainers of the land.

As I've spoken of before, the draw of such things had always escaped me.

Perhaps if I'd not met Asaph I'd have been preparing for such a journey anyway, regardless of my disinterest. I wondered what starter I'd have had. Veronica had compared me to a Natu, seeing the past and future with no mind for the present, but that species was rare to begin a journey with, especially outside the Johto region. Likely I'd be saddled with one of the trio more typical for Kanto, and simply have fallen in line like the others. I wondered how long it would have taken me to have abandoned the quest, as I knew that would be the inevitable outcome.

I had just completed an essay on some forgettable subject when a knock came on my door--a patter tapping out some silly tune, indicating that it was my father. "Knock knock," he chimed as if I wouldn't have heard the physical result.

"Come in."

He left the door open a wedge and unfolded a paper in his hand. He'd asked me for a birthday wish list, and I'd hesitated on it, not knowing if doing so was mannered or not, but finally I'd relented, jotting down a few choice items. "I wanted to ask you some things about this list. Your birthday's tomorrow, of course, and I can't find some of these."

That was strange. "They're relatively commonplace. You ought to, even here."

"Well...it's more that I don't know what they are. Like this one; I've got no clue what a...'chatelaine' is." He stumbled over the word as though it was difficult.

"It's a pocket chain." He'd recently spent a day enthusing over the purchase of an electronic encyclopaedia, yet apparently couldn't be bothered to use it himself.

"Oh, so you want a pocket watch? That's a funny choice for a kid your age."

I bristled at the reference to age. At ten, I was nearly an adult. Even aside from training or going on an aimless journey, there were a host of liberties opening to me and he still treated me though I were small. "A watch is something one may hang on a chatelaine. I wouldn't be adverse to receiving one. Of course, it would be impolite" I stressed the word "to turn down a gift, though gifts must" another stress "be given with thought and consideration."

"Oh." The flatness of his tone left little from which to derive meaning.

"Well, I guess that makes sense. Now, I don't know who some of these people are that you mention. Designers, I guess, right?"

I hadn't asked for any art, since it would raise too many questions, but history had shown that he preferred to give clothing. I could at least guide him to the proper choices. "More or less, though some are shops. You'll be able to find them in Viridian."

He chuckled. "You have a lot more elaborate tastes than I did."

"I question your use of the past tense." Asaph would likely snap at me for such a comment, but the irritation in it would go over my father's head.

Again he laughed, of course. "I guess you're right! Wow, you're getting quite a sense of humor too. When I'd visit when you were little, you'd never laugh at anything."

That wasn't true. He just never heard me. "You were hardly there."

"Ah, yeah. Sorry about that..." He tsked under his breath as he rubbed the back of his head. "Just didn't have a lot of time. I wish you could have come out here though, too...Gloria loved the ocean..."

"...I have to send this in," I muttered as I turned back to my work.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...she would have been so proud of you."

There was a pause before he moved, and another before he finally left. Rather than do what I had said, I instead drew out the chain from my shirt and held mother's ring in my hands. That's when I made a wonderful discovery.




The following morning, I left early, before the dawn, and headed townward. My usual routine of wandering the galleries played out nicely, and one of the owners wished me a fine birthday. I walked along the promenade, listening to the ocean trying to rise up and touch the Wingulls that cawed above it, teasing the waves into going ever higher. Even from the cafe where I dined, though it was around the corner from the view, still carried the sounds of the playful birds.

The small bookshop across from the shopping mall had gotten in a new art book, so I treated myself, petting the shopkeeper's Meowth that lazed across the counter as I paid. It pushed into my hand, enjoying the feel of my new adornment. Though I'd been by myself all day, I felt as though I was in the finest of company.

When I returned to the cliffside, nightfall was already touching at the corners of the sky. It wasn't especially late, but the year showing its age. I hoped to slip in quietly and head to my room, but my father was waiting in the living room, on the couch that faced away and sitting so he faced me.

"Jiri, I'm glad you're here! I expected you'd get back around this time. Go get dressed up; we're going out to dinner."

I froze. Anything my father picked would be some horrid place, a gaudy tourist trap with pseudo-food designed to appeal to base instinct for overly filling meals.

"Come on, we're going to Viridian City so we have to drive there."

That was a bit better, though I still didn't trust him. Viridian was vast and held everything from high culture to the lowest. "What are we doing?"

He stood, and I could see that he still wore the suit he did business in. "I just said, we're going out to dinner."

"Specifically, Corbin," Helen said from the kitchen. I could hear her fussing with something in a cup, likely tea. "Tell him specifically where we're going."

"Oh yeah." It was as though it had never occurred to him to answer what I'd asked. "It's a place called Fengsugou. Heard of it? It's supposed to be pretty nice."

I hadn't, and mused over his settling for 'pretty nice' for what he insisted was a major milestone. "Mm. I suppose it's better than nothing."

"Hahaha! You're getting a nice sense of humour. I'm glad; you always seemed like nothing made you smile."

Had I been making a joke? I went over my words to think of what he could be talking about and came up with nothing. Without a further word, I started up the stairs, but he stopped me.

"Jiri...? What's that on your hand?"

I glanced down. "Oh, this morning I tried it on and it fit my hand."

He smiled, but his eyes were slightly furrowed. "My god. I never thought I'd see you wear Gloria's ring. It looks so good on you. Heh...she always wore that. It meant so much to her. And I'm really glad you like it."

He knew I had it, and I'd wore it on a chain. What was the difference? It did make me feel more mature, that it fit, but those things shouldn't matter to him.

My silence must have gone unnoticed, because he continued. "You wouldn't let that thing out of your grip, remember? I had to come in when you were asleep and put it on the table so you wouldn't lose it. You know, sometimes, I wonder how--" and suddenly he fell silent. When I looked back up at him, Helen had taken his arm and was whispering lowly in his ear.

But at least it gave me the respite necessary to take my leave.




"You look really nice, Jirarudan," Helen said as we exited onto the mainland from the short bridge out of town. She and I inhabited the back seat of the smaller car--there was simply no way that I would be seen in the truck. "How are you doing today?"

I'd been staring out the window at the dim stars, tracking our movements by the distant lights. "Mm? I'm all right. It's really like any other day, though I did pamper myself earlier."

"What did you do? I saw you got a new book. What's it about?"

I faced her briefly to answer, intending to turn back quickly. "It's a history of Lorrainian art in the Kalos region."

"Oh yeah?" She smiled. "Kalosian art is really pretty."

"Lorrainian art is often overlooked. It's similar but not as gaudy, and Kalosian masters were often inspired by the more realistic traits."

"Does it have pictures? I'd like to see what you mean."

She was taking interest in my passion for art. I could indulge her, but I couldn't risk her finding out my secret. "Maybe sometime, when I'm done."

"By the way," she continued as she leaned back, "congratulations on your grades. How do you do it? You never seem to study and you're getting way higher grades than me or your father did at that age."

I did study, and far too much. But it was only natural that she assume as she did, as I kept to myself regardless of the circumstance. "I don't see how you could figure that."

"I guess. I mean, we never see you. You could be doing anything up there. I tell your father you're probably writing the great Kantan novel. You know, you're one smart cookie. You're gonna do great things someday."

"It's not like I'm a prodigy or anything." This line of discussion was making me uncomfortable."

Either she didn't notice or she didn't care, because she laughed. "Haha, well, you'll find something."

I was ten. Though I had looked forward to the number, I was far behind so many. Madame Remi had her first gallery showing at ten, and was noted at the time to have bemoaned her lost youth. Stafford, Rhi, even the more recent Alkire, all had their hold in the art world long before my age. It was disheartening sometimes to wander through a museum full of those bright youths, but I had my own and I would do what I would with it. "...I'd rather not talk about it."

She paused, silent for a while before squeezing my hand. "What made you decide to put that ring on?"

I answered as I wiggled my hand from her grasp. "I try it on every so often to see if it fits. Today it did."

"Oh. That's nice. I never met Gloria, but I think she'd be really proud of you. She seemed like a great person."

I think that was the first time I'd ever heard Helen talk about my mother, and it didn't seem right. She was so close with my father that I would hope the subject would come up more often. As Helen said, she'd never met her, but my father had no excuse.

"Are you excited to be ten?" I'd said nothing in between and her conversation continued unabated.

"I suppose. I'm glad to have my youth."

From the front, my father laughed, a sharp, noiseful sound. "Corbin!" Helen snapped, tapping the back of his headrest. "Ah, sorry about that. He just thought you sounded a lot older there."

"Helen, come on, it was funny. A little kid saying that he's glad to have his youth?"

The car suddenly seemed so much smaller than ever before, and I wanted out but we were in motion. Had we been stopped or going slower than we were, I would have darted away in an instant, I know that much for certain. I could feel my face arrange itself in what the photographs depicted as an overwhelmed expression, and it was a small victory that it was at least what I was feeling.

"Corbin, apologize."

He sighed. "I'm sorry. It was just that it sounded like something an old man would say."

"Corbin!"

"I'm sorry!" He glanced at me through the rearview. "Jiri, it's just you don't sound like kids your age. It's not a bad thing, not at all. You sound really smart, like Helen said, way more than either of us."

I didn't feel smart. A smart person would have better company.

Helen sighed, almost identical in length and capacity as my father's previous sigh. "There's a lot he doesn't understand. In meetings he keeps those things under his hat until later when it's just us, but sometimes I swear..." Another sigh. "He's proud of you."

"I am! And don't ever doubt that! You're a very special boy and I'm proud to have you as a son." His driving was wavering a little, but it was still within acceptable parameters. "I want you to know that your father loves you."

Frankly I didn't care. I know he said it honestly, but his understanding of such things was limited. "Mm. Thank you."

"Jiri, what do you say?" This was Helen, prodding me in the arm.

It took me a moment to comprehend what she meant. "...loveyoutoo."

He laughed again. "That's the spirit!"

Under that starry sky, I wished I could be anywhere else.





Our arrival at Fengsugou was mundane. It had begun to rain, so my father went to park elsewhere while Helen and I ducked inside. I recall that her umbrella was impractically small, so we were both grateful that we'd only had to cross a small space to the door. "Any further and I'd have to restyle my hair," I remarked, and she giggled slightly.

"Isn't that my line? Your hair looks fine."

Hers was worn down, something I never saw. At the factory, it was a matter of safety to make hair as short as possible, so it was usually up with pins. Even so, it still only went to the lobes of her ears, slightly shorter on one side, creating the image of a modern flapper sans headdress. "Yours too. Though it could use a little something."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

"I think...a flapper headband. Or a cloche."

"Oh yeah?" I wasn't sure if she had already forgotten that she'd just said that. "I'll have to look into those."

She was humouring me, which was disappointing. She didn't know what those things were, so why would she act otherwise? I'd have told her if she had asked, and I almost did anyway.

From where I stood, I could see a glimpse of the interior. It was down a curved stairway, but with a limited view I could make out the host station nestled in the space, backed by a large aquarium against the stair wall, in which a few domestic-sized Goldeen and Seaking swam about lazily. The decor indicated that it was a specifically Hengduanian restaurant, and I was a bit disappointed in myself that, though I could identify the architecture, I knew nothing of the cuisine.

Helen took a deep breath. "Mm, smells good, doesn't it? It's been a while. I'm in the mood for something spicy. If it's ok with you, anyway. It's banquet style so everyone has a bit of everything."

That was interesting. I dreamed of attending imperial and royal events, and banquet style was often found in those, especially in the east. Perhaps this could be practice for the future.

The door opened but I didn't pay much attention. It would be my father, I assumed, and he wasn't worth much notice, especially during my fancy.

"Jirarudan."

That wasn't the voice I was expecting. I turned. "Asaph?"

He smiled, eyes and mouth crinkling at the sides, and chuckled. "I wasn't about to miss your birthday."

"I didn't know you'd be coming." I remember thinking that my voice was duller than it should have been.

"Your father didn't tell you?" He glanced at Helen, who shrugged.

"I wouldn't put it past him," she muttered. "He can be a real scatterbrain sometimes."

Asaph laughed. "Not like Jirarudan. He's perhaps the sharpest person I've ever met."

I was? I suppose he would think so, not having seen the study of expressions and tones that I devoted hours, days to. Without that information, he would think it came naturally.

"That's great to hear." Helen craned her head to peek out the paned window. "Since he does remote school, we don't get a lot of feedback about him. I mean, it's obvious that he's smart, but other than that, you know?"

He nodded, just as the door opened again. "Ah, Corbin. We were just singing the praises of your son."

My father reached a hand to my hair, no doubt to tousle it in that clichéd manner, and I ducked away. Not only did I disapprove of the action in general, I had my hair styled just so. He was being highly disrespectful, and it belied his praise. "He's a very special boy. We were talking about that in the car."

It was hideously dull to hear that man talk. "Pardon. I'll go check the table," I told Helen and excused myself down the stairs. It was rude to depart without the acknowledgement of the other two, and I suspected that Asaph would speak to me about it later, but it was necessary.

It was a regret that I couldn't properly appreciate my surroundings at that point. The staircase brought to mind the elegant entrances that royalty would make, and the faint splashing and vocalisations of the aquarium fish could substitute for applause. Yet, coming off of those horribly shallow remarks--what did "special" even mean?--they felt as though they were mocking me.

Fortunately, such pessimism was short-lived, and the decor caught up with me. Though Hengduan was a very modern region, embracing radical new designs in its architecture, the restaurant was in a far more classical style. It was symmetrical, with even the chairs surrounding the tables all pointing the same directions on either side of the room. Deep red dominated the scene, highlit in gold and surrounding a small mock sky well, an inlaid light substituting for the sun and interior plants instead of the usual sumptuous garden. The effect, while not true to form, was a reasonable substitute. The walls were decorated simply, with traditional fans and inconspicuous lanterns, to an understated effect.

Overall, it was magnificent, and I briefly forgot my discomfort.

"Excuse me, can I help you?" A hostess was at my side, looking almost amused. I assumed it was for my age.

"Yes, I would like to know if the table for Jirarudan is ready for seating."

She pursed her lips. "I don't think we have any tables under that name."

My stomach fell. Could he have forgotten to make a reservation? I wouldn't put it past him. We could obtain a table as walk-ins, but it was the principle of the thing.

And then my father came down the stairs. "Ah, I think the table's under the name Corbin?" It was enunciated as a question, and a strange one at that. Why would he put it under his own name when it was my birthday?

"Table for four? Right this way."

He HAD reserved in his name. Had he no social decorum at all? I was aghast. It was my day, not his, and yet he had shifted the focus.

Asaph and Helen trailed down the stairs, and we were led to a round table next to the garden area. To continue the symmetry, we sat in a x pattern, complimenting our surroundings.

"How about this, huh?" my father asked, and I was dimly aware that it was directed at me. "Turning ten, having a big fancy dinner...I tell ya, it seems like just yesterday that you were this little baby."

Helen was smiling. "Corbin, honey, I think Jiri may be a bit overwhelmed."

I wasn't, though his presence was quickly changing that. I was simply enamored with my surroundings. Perhaps someday I would dine with royalty in settings near to this. No, I rethought, I most certainly would.

Asaph placed his napkin on his lap and looked at me to do the same. In the rush, I'd forgotten, and wondered if my distraction made it excusable. "Jirarudan is an excellent student," he stated, as though clearing the fog. "As I was saying, he absorbs information incredibly. I've never met anyone who seeks out knowledge as much as he does."

"Hey! Good job!" The plainness of my father's words stood out starkly against our surroundings. "Yeah, he's always got a book in his hand or something. And he's really into international stuff. That's why I thought he'd like this place. He cuts out pictures and stuff of different locations and paintings and puts them on his wall."

My stomach tightened, Asaph's prior warning coming to the front of my head he wouldn't understand this is our secret...

But Asaph just smiled in a small way. "Seeing the world without leaving home. It really is magnificent, to have that sort of mind."

It wasn't just that. It was my escape from the dullness of Seafoam, my injection of colour into it. I felt rather wobbly to think of it, and wanted to hide under the table. Just a few years ago, I would have. Thinking of that, however, of how far I'd truly come in such a short time, straightened my back and focused my mind. "Seeing the world," I echoed. "Someday I will; I know I will."

It had been a comment to myself, so I was a bit surprised by Helen's words. "What do you want to see?"

I paused. It couldn't tip my hand. "Well...I'd love to see Hengduan. It's supposed to be beautiful. And Kalos, of course..."

"Aah, the Parfum Palace," Helen sighed, in a tone I'd learned was called wistful. "I used to read all about it. Maybe we can go there together."

There was a lot more to Kalos than one building, though I wanted to see the magnificent castle as well. "Maybe," I humored her, thinking of our conversation earlier.

"I took a vacation in Hoenn once," my father said, as though the conversation concerned him. "Really hot there, but the beaches are incredible. And you gotta take a trip on a yacht. It's amazing."

"I'm sure it is," Asaph chuckled. We'd gone to the Lilycove museum together, the distance taking us only a weekend. It was another of our secrets. "I tend to vary between being a rambling man and a homebody. I suppose that's why I ordered such a ship from you, Corbin."

"Oh yeah? I'm glad to hear it."

Before we could delve further into the subject, a server placed two small trays of sliced fruits and candied nuts on either side the lazy susan, and another set cups of jasmine tea before us. All were things I'd had before, but here amidst the finery, they seemed a world apart.

Though my mind had wandered, thinking on the great museums of the world, I quickly snapped to attention at the scent of the tea. It was as if a bouquet had been set before me, inviting me to drink the entirety of its being, and I took a sip, remembering halfway to draw in air around it.

Though it was hot, it was far from the scalding messes found in that cliffside house, and I was able to enjoy it without burning my tongue.

It was at that time that I realised that I knew very little of Hengduanian customs. Was I to drink before the servers were finished? Was I to say something beforehand, a prayer or an address? I dropped my hands to my lap, fidgeting with my ring again.

But Asaph had said nothing to correct me. Perhaps I was doing everything right. Yes, I had to be. Though I continued turning the ring around my finger for a moment longer.

"I think we should toast the birthday boy." It came not from my father, as I would have predicted, but from Helen. She held her cup up at about face height, looking every bit my previous image of her as a flapper toasting a wild life.

Everyone followed suit, and in the moment before I did I marveled at the differing images the other two presented in their action. My father was a mid-century Shikaakwa piece, the working man raising a glass in an unfamiliar environment, while Asaph was a courted gentleman in a Brittanian intimate, gilded scene. I hoped to present a distinguished figure myself, though my thoughts were of my surroundings and I knew I couldn't possibly fit the model of Hengduan style.

"To Jirarudan--may your days be short and your years be long!" It was a toast meant to invoke the idea of a leisurely life, but it had always confused me. I had protested it in the past but for the time I pushed that aside.

"To Jirarudan!" We all brought our cups forward in imitation of the ceremonial clinking of glasses, and drank at the same time. It was a strange feeling, that shared action.

We began on the food before us, the candied nuts being my favourite. Similar confections were sold in Seafoam, but their quality was far below, made for the masses. These were light, with the slight glaze neither overtaking the core nor being dominated by it.

The normalcy of the fruits was odd. Though they were clearly simple supermarket offerings, their presentation changed their taste. I laughed to myself, something that struck my father's attention, as I mused over my own simple beginnings. It was nothing, I told him.





The opening course, and then the appetizers, were without incident, and soon a bowl wafting lightly-scented steam was placed on the round in the middle of the table, and then another, and another. The dishes were larger than the cuisine's standard, indicating a meal of fewer courses than the class would normally hold. I felt as though I was a guest of a monarch, the finery of the region around me.

"Oh wow..." my father gasped. "Hey, this is neat, don't you think?"

I pretended not to notice that he was probably directing it at me, and hoped Asaph wouldn't think it rude. We hadn't covered these sorts of situations in our lessons, of what to do when addressed by someone utterly ignorant of social mores or manners.

Glancing across the table and him and Helen, I saw that they both nodded to the servers, so I did the same. They nodded back, and I felt somehow accomplished.

I admit that I didn't know most of the dishes, but the enticing smell was wild, appealing to some newly uncovered part of my mind. There was a distinct spice to most of them, though I remembered that banquet dishes were milder than those of the everyday. How funny, to think that milder was special!

"Jirarudan." It was Asaph. "If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?"

I hadn't expected to be put on the spot like that. Knowing our arrangement and our secrets, there were many things I couldn't say. It was a test, but I wasn't certain how to pass it. Likely to name something without those hidden elements. "Well..." I pondered, twisting the ring around my finger again. I thought of the freedom I had with him, and how we could go anywhere in his ship, one that was steady enough to display priceless works in security, and the answer became clear. "I would like an airship."

It made perfect sense, and I didn't know why I hadn't thought of it before.

My father sat back, grinning. "Well! I had no idea!" Was that sarcasm or did he genuinely not know? I hadn't known, but people seemed to be able to guess qualities of others. I would have to speak to Asaph about it.

"Ooh, what kind?" Helen asked, leaning forward with her head on her hand. Her elbow was on the table but I said nothing.

I was a bit dizzy. "Oh...who knows? It's a flight of fancy. I'm not certain." Though, in that moment, I was. The elegance of Asaph's ship had always captivated me, and for a moment I felt as I did when I was soaring over the land and sea.

"He looks so happy," I heard her whisper to someone, perhaps even herself, but it was faint. I'd closed my eyes to focus on my dream, images of the surface below as clear as life.





The rest of the meal proceeded without incident, aside from the continued magnificence of the food. Although by now I would simply repeat myself to describe them all!

Hengduan banquets had no sweet dessert, and I was grateful that it would prevent the classless cake that my father had presented me with the year before. Though we capped the meal with a sweet, it was in the form of a milky, tea-like drink that tasted of almonds.

"So," my father pronounced, "if you'd like, we can do presents now."

That was something else I wasn't sure of, if presents should be given in public. It seemed horribly rude, but again, Asaph nodded me on. "All right," I muttered, looking around as I did just in case.

Helen smiled, which I caught only briefly. "I'll start." She retrieved her purse from under her chair, drawing something out from it and handing it to me. Again I looked at Asaph and again he nodded for me to proceed, so I did, drawing my finger under the tape holding the wrapping paper closed so as not to rip anything.

Within was the image of a distant castle, the famous Neuswaronessstein, dream of a mad king. I'd dreamt of it once, a few months before, and the idea of an unfinished palace, lost without its dreamer, was incredibly tragic and appealing. Turning the book over to the front cover revealed that it was on palaces around the world.

"I hope you like it," she grinned. "You seem to love all those faraway things. I saw this and it just fit."

Though her words were off in the distance as I stared at the back cover again, finally setting it down when I realised that we were to continue.

Asaph had prepared a fancier gift, a small hinged fabric box with the name of a jeweler in town in small foreign letters across the top. "I've looked forward to this. It took a considerable effort to keep it a secret."

Carefully I tilted open the lid, the contents shining in the dim overhead light before I could see it entirely. I could hear Helen oohing in anticipation as I drew it back, revealing a gold brooch with a highly stylized hiragana "Ji" engraved lightly into it. When I drew it out of the box, I could hear my father laugh sharply, causing me to nearly drop it. "Fancy! That'll be something you keep your whole life."

"Ji", I said to myself, running my fingers over the engraved surface. It was ever so slightly coarser than the polished area around it, and it was an interesting sensation. "Ji..."

Asaph chuckled. "I'm glad you see that. I worried it may have been too calligraphic to discern properly."

I recall being entranced by it, still feeling that emery-like area and repeating "Ji" as though it was a holy mantra. Even then I didn't understand why.

"Jiri, can you show us?" I'm not sure who said it, but it broke me out of the trance. I tilted the box to show it to them and the two gasped simultaneously.

"Asaph..." My father dropped his voice and I believe he thought that I couldn't hear him. "Are you sure? That looks really expensive."

Asaph waved his hand ever so slightly. "Don't think of it." It was slightly softer, but it was still very audible.

I put the cover back over the brooch, brushing the surface again as I did, and took another sip of the almond tea.

"Oh, that's right!" my father exclaimed, though I knew that it was an artificial energy. "My present!" He extended the second word in the manner of a teen idol, and Helen lightly slapped his shoulder I assume for it. Grinning, he presented me with a red envelope, the telltale sign of a gift of money.

Again I felt uncomfortable, and again I looked around to see who was watching, but I opened it anyway. It was a novel sort, the kind held closed with a wind of string, and I peeked inside without withdrawing the funds. It wasn't money itself, but a bank note made out for an embarrassingly high sum.

I felt a bit woozy, although the money was minor compared to what I had already made. It felt as though he was attempting to buy my happiness, and it bothered me to no end. "I'm not certain I can accept this," I told him.

"Oh come on, it's a drop in the bucket compared to what Asaph must have gotten that pin for." I followed his eyeline to the box that held it.

Asaph turned towards me, reaching his hand to mine. "No matter what it is, it's fine. Accept it graciously."

I lowered my head. "Very well. Thank you, father." Although it did nothing to sway my opinion, I could set it aside.

"Father now, huh? Heh, you're making me feel old. So, you can do whatever you want with that, of course. You've been so responsible with what I gave you before, buying your own clothes and books and all that." He shook his head. "I couldn't handle all that when I was your age. I don't know how you do it."

Though I was a bit lost in thought. The meal, the generous gifts, the opulent surroundings, the mélange of smells still drifting around the table, even the distant rain, grown stronger since our arrival; all together it drew round in my brain, too many things to sort through all at once. It was odd how I could handle such things in other situations.

"Jiri, have you had a good birthday?" I refocused to see Helen smiling at me.

"I have. Thank you all. It's been an honour. I feel like nobility."

"Oh shucks." Obviously my father, with his plain language. "We were hoping you'd feel like royalty."

"Royalty has too many obligations. I've not got the head or want for matters of the world."

He stared at me for a moment, as did Helen, who at least was smiling. Asaph carried on with his tea as though nothing was unusual. "That...that just came out of you, didn't it? You spend a lot of time thinking about that kind of stuff, don't you?"

"I read a lot about them." More specifically about their treasures, and those of their regions and nations. The art of every area of the world...I sighed just thinking about it.

"Getting tired? I don't blame you; you've had a long day." He laughed softly, under his breath.

I was tired, come to think of it, although he had misinterpreted my sigh. It wasn't important. "A bit. It must be near midnight by now."

He checked his watch, a surprisingly expensive-looking piece for a man who lived so pathetically despite his fortune. "It's close to ten. We should hit the road, since I think they close at ten. I had a great time."

"Me too," Helen added. "Corbin, we'll have to come here sometime, just the two of us."

"Oh?" Asaph quirked an eyebrow, his voice turning up at the end. "Jirarudan never speaks of these things, so I'm terribly behind on you, Corbin. Considering that your son is my business, I feel that I must."

Helen laughed, something high and bubbly. "We've been seeing each other for a while now. Almost as long as we've known you!"

But the discussion of relationships seemed inappropriate. Petty gossip had no room in these situations, and it was strange to see Asaph entering into it. Why was he so interested? "So, we spoke of leaving?"

My father turned to me, eyebrows furrowed. "I...guess we did. Everyone ready? I pre-paid so we can just go."

As we all stood from the table, I tucked the book under my arm and the envelope into my inner jacket pocket, taking the jewelry box into my hand. "I had a wonderful time. Thank you all for coming." Saying so, I bowed midway.

"Ooh, our little society boy," Helen said as she bowed back, at a smaller angle, and Asaph followed suit. Though my father had already wandered off, seemingly unaware of my gesture.

When I looked back from where he had vanished to, Asaph was offering his arm. "Shall I accompany you up the stairs, young sir?"

Helen laughed, and she looked what the pictures had called amused. "Two gentlemen."

For some reason I wanted to ignore that. I took his arm and he led me up the grand staircase. The sound of the rain outside, pounding against the door and window, was soothing in a way, and I thought back to something I had read about how there was something in our psychology to find rain relaxing, though I couldn't remember why. "I believe Corbin went to fetch the car."

"He should have said something."

"Yes, he should have. Although he's polite in manners of business, the ideas of everyday manners escape him."

Helen had followed us, and nodded, I assume in agreement. "He's got some work to do. But I've talked to him. I'm going to go wait out there for him, and I'll tell you when he's pulled up." The windows were red, of course, in keeping with the theme, and it was nearly impossible to see out of them.

"Very well. I will see you both later, Helen. Give my best to Corbin."

"I will." She held the door open for a moment, pulling her umbrella open outside before joining it, leaving me with Asaph.

"I must be heading back myself. I'd love to have you over some time, perhaps for a few days."

That sounded like paradise! "And I'd love to join you. Do you have a preference in date?"

"Not especially. Though autumn in the hills is a sight to behold, and I want to share it with you." He smiled, and I didn't need my pictures to identify it as kindly.

"I'll call you and we'll arrange this. Will Veronica be joining us?" Her appearance in Seafoam had been a surreal experience, but I still valued her company.

"Perhaps, if she wishes. I haven't seen her since that trip you both took to Viridian, though I've spoken to her. It's about time I reach out."

That was relieving for some reason. "I look forward to hearing her answer."

The door poked open slightly and Helen told us that the car was ready, so I said my goodbyes and headed out, shielded under her umbrella.



The drive back to Seafoam saw drowsiness catch me, lulling me to sleep with the gentle, repetitive motion of the car over the road, and the feel of the brooch under my ringed finger. I fell into dreams to the sound of the rain.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

There was a phenomenal magic in the air, the mid-November snow falling gently from the heavens as I came down the long driveway to Asaph's mansion. It was enough to make me forget, at least for a moment, that I'd had to take the bus and walk from the highway, but it had been a pleasant enough journey, allowing me to reflect on the event.

On my approach, I saw Tierney pull out of the other side of the looped driveway, her car the latest style. Veronica was in the doorway, and she waved enthusiastically, dropping her suitcase and seeming not to notice the floor staffer that pulled it inside.

The brief cloud of snow that the tyres pulled up brought my thoughts to my future airship. Though I had pondered on the idea long before my birthday, that declaration had cemented it in my head. It was cold in the atmosphere, colder than this, but I would be safe and warm in my ship, overlooking the snow and fog in my world of fantasy.

"You're looking well, young master Jirarudan." Asaph's address, but it came from Veronica. Somehow I had continued to the door during my vision. "Please, come in."

The doorman chuckled. I suppose he had said the same to her a few moments before. It was strange to me how I was to tip a doorman or valet at a hotel but not at a home, despite both being salaried. There was so much in society that made little sense, and it helped to follow Asaph's word and view it as playing a part, going through scenarios as though they were secret codes meant to unlock our social connections.

"Jiiiii~riiiii~" Veronica had started prodding me gently in the arm. "Don't you have something to say?"

It took me a second. "Oh! Greetings, Veronica. How does the day find you?" I think I had heard a similar welcome from Asaph once.

"Getting a little hazy with the weather there? Maybe Articuno froze your brain?" She was grinning widely, her bright white teeth seeming akin to the snowfall. "You're being a bit of a space case today and we've only just got here. Your dad drop you off at the road, is that why you walked up?"

"He couldn't come. I took the bus."

Her grin vanished. "You hate the bus. And that would mean you'd have to walk from the highway."

"Yes." Of course that's what it meant. Why would she bother to state that?

"Well, what happened? Is he ok?"

"My father?" That was what she was asking, I assumed. "He's fine. Somebody died in the factory and he has to meet with the authorities."

By then her face had taken on the guise of what the pictures had labeled 'horrified'. "Oh my god! That's awful! What happened?"

"Somebody died. That's all I know. Likely an explosion from an out of control furnace, or a falling beam." I hadn't heard any explosions, so the first was unlikely though still possible, though I tended to think the second, as they were working on another C class for an unimportant customer.

She rested a hand on my arm. "That's...so awful. I'm so sorry."

Her reaction seemed odd, and I came razor-close to asking her why, but figured it would be inappropriate. Better to save that for Asaph later. Although on that subject, "Where's Asaph?"

She made a faint choking sound. "I don't know. Here, they said. Somewhere in the house."

Was she disturbed by the change of subject? There was so much guesswork in the delicate uncoding of society. "His employees don't know?" I peeked over my shoulder towards the doorman, who had taken my suitcase and set it with Veronica's. He looked towards me soon after I had him, and shrugged.

"That's strange. Usually he'd be greeting us."

"Last I saw he was in the guest room upstairs. He's probably getting things all set for you. You know what a perfectionist he can be. I can take you two up there." The doorman picked the bags up again and waited for our word.

"All right! Let's go up there together!"

The doorman nodded and headed towards the stairs.




"Wow, it's like a ski chalet up here, with the snow coming down outside," Veronica remarked. The wooden interior certainly gave off that vibe, the heavy beams and minimal decoration evoking that faraway image. The last point was on her mind as well. "I wonder why he keeps it so plain."

"I keep it that way," Asaph said, emerging from the guest room as the heavy double doors closed slowly behind him, "so that my collection stands out even more."

"We were just wondering where you were! It's good to see you!"

He bowed slightly, in a western manner with his arm bent before him. "Greetings. Welcome to my humble home. I trust it's to your liking."

We both returned the gesture, Veronica's bow shallower than mine. "It's been far too long since I've been here," I said.

"Me either," she added. I'd forgotten that she'd stayed there after Mr. Higuchi's party, that fateful night half a year ago. "Asaph, are we going to see your gallery today? It's really beautiful."

He smiled, and pushed his glasses up a little farther. For some reason he was wearing the pince-nez he'd worn that day, and at a few other occasions. "Of course. Get unpacked and we can go there immediately."

"Yay!" She wiggled, I assume in excitement, and hummed as she headed to the guest room.

I remained, unsure of something. "Jirarudan, are you all right?" Asaph rested a hand on my shoulder, the same way Veronica had earlier.

"...Veronica had a strange reaction to something earlier, and I don't understand. She acted as though I was the strange one, and I'm concerned about it."

"Is that so? What was it?"

I pursed my lips in thought. "I had to take the bus today, and walk from the highway. My father couldn't bring me, because there was a death in the factory." At that he gasped slightly, but let me continue. "I feel like it shouldn't affect me, because it doesn't. I didn't know the man, and his life had nothing to do with mine."

He thought for a moment. "Are you happy that it wasn't your father?"

"I'm not sure. It's a world apart. If he died, it would impact me directly. I...don't think I would care otherwise."

A frown. "I think you would. I know you would. You're a smart boy."

What did that have to do with anything? But I'd already asked him so much. Maybe later. "All right..."

"Now!" he exclaimed, patting me on the shoulder with a lightness that belied his emphasis, "go get unpacked. Put your things in the dresser, since you're staying a few days, and then I'll take you both to the gallery."






The much vaunted gallery was along the front hallway, across from the room where his glorious Madame Remi was displayed, and before the library on the end. Opening the doors was akin to entering a museum, which Asaph knew well, setting a scene with his slowness. We savoured the experience, and were greeted with a glow before us, captured in a beam of natural light. This was the gem he had sought before, the fabled Eye of Dawn, and he led us first to it. "Isn't it wonderful? I saw it in a book and I had to have it."

Veronica let out a long breath, ducking her head up and down to view it at different angles. Being an opal, this meant a shifting vision through the spectrum. I followed suit.

It was a remarkable gem, flawless, and regarded highly. I, too, had seen pictures of it before Asaph had ever mentioned it, although it was indistinguishable from other opals save for the smoothness of its round cut. Even the scepter it had once rested in had left no mark.

Perhaps it really was blessed. As the story went, it had been been possessed by an ancient priestess whose region was attacked by brigands, who stole the scepter, yet the Eye of Dawn remained. She claimed that her god had hidden it away until the invaders had left, although a more likely explanation was that they had come from a region where shell resin was used to similar visual effect and they had thought the gem to be only coated.

Even if it was as mundane as that, it didn't really matter. What did was the end result, displayed on a velvet pillow on a dark wood pillar. Its dark surroundings offset it wonderfully, giving it a glow beyond its own properties.

Veronica hadn't altered her view the entire time, staring at the otherworldly gem as though it had put a spell on her. "What are you thinking of, Miss Veronica?" Asaph asked with an uplift to his voice.

"...Buying this. I want to buy it."

His head tilted back slightly, his eyes widening slightly. They were green again that day, and despite the shock of the moment, I realised that I had no idea what colour they really were. "Miss Veronica..." he began, but trailed off.

"I mean it. Name your price and I'll pay it." Normally we would negotiate, but we were dealing with our own mentor.

"Veronica..." This sounded farther away than his prior address. "...I..." Words seemed to catch in his throat. This gem had meant so much to him, to be suddenly propositioned on it was entirely out of the blue. "I'll think about it. I'll have an answer for you by the end of your stay."

She sighed, finally diverting her gaze. "Thank you. I promise that you won't regret it."

He signed as well, nearly twice the length of hers as though he had much more to say behind it, though words didn't manifest. Instead, he simply wandered towards the door.

"Asaph?" Her voice was soft. "If you don't want to part with it, I understand."

"I said I'll think about it. Now, come along." After a short pause, he left the room entirely.




We took a moment to follow, unsure of what to do, and when we did, Asaph wasn't to be found. Perhaps he was in the library.

It was an ancient-seeming room, one no older than the rest of the mansion but kept intentionally old-fashioned by way of dim lights against dark wood, both in past-century styles. The shelves, lining the wall, were hand-carved, ever-so-slight imperfections showing their true nature, and held their strength against the weight of so many volumes.

A few books had their own spaces, contained in glass cases on velvet risers on pillars of the same dark wood. Some were open to pages, some simply modestly displayed their covers. I'd only heard of one, a ridiculous novel of poor literative quality but nonetheless renowned for being among the first to take to a printing press. Of course, there had been several of those--Asaph and I had seen one together--all with their faults and flaws, but all with the same goal of bringing reading to the masses. Though it did nothing to improve the quality of the written word. People could gripe and moan about the modern era, but schlock and pabulum have always been the predominant quality of entertainment.

Which was what made true art all that more important. In every age, they were that which had risen above low expectations to grasp what was important. It didn't matter if they weren't popular, or if people didn't understand them; the only thing that mattered was having something truly worthwhile to say, statements that would ring out beyond their era.

"You're spacing out. Are you ok?" Veronica was standing before another displayed book, this one shown flat on its back with a map centrepiece unfurled around it, showing one of the first attempts to explore the Kata Tjuta region. Of course, they were all colonists, but even the natives had never attempted such a massive feat. It can be amazing what fresh eyes will see. I suppose I must have been thinking of that instead of answering her because she repeated herself, about twice as loud.

"Veronica, please. We're in a library." I smirked to show her it was a joke.

"Well, are you?"

I looked back at the book in front of me. "I suppose. Are you?"

She sighed, moving to sit on a long chaise lounge whose dark green subtly offset the dark brown of the wall next to it. I think, had we been in more relaxed surroundings, she would have flopped onto it. "I don't know. I think he's really mad at me. But he never said no. He always told us to be direct if we're not willing to part with something, and he didn't do that. I shouldn't have said anything though. I know how much that gem means to him."

"Well, as you said, if he didn't want to, he would have said something. I think we ought to take him at his word that he'll consider it."

"...all right." She looked skywards with another sigh. "It's really neat, isn't it? The ceiling." I followed her gaze to the carved panels, all perfectly square and interlocked. "The scrollwork is amazing."

"It is. Though it's a bit plain, just along the edges like that."

She giggled. "You're always one for the more rococo styles, aren't you? All ornate and fancy."

"Not always!" For some reason that made me defensive and to this day I've no idea why. "Neoclassical, art deco, primitives...I love so many styles!"

That pulled her to her feet. "I didn't know you were so protective. I'm sorry."

Something in her demeanor seemed dour and downcast, so I reached a hand to her shoulder. "It's all right. I think I reacted out of kind."

"You rarely come across so passionate. I mean, I know you ARE, but to hear it in your voice was...unexpected."

I pulled my hand back just a bit to pat her shoulder a few times instead. "Is it that rare?"

That prompted another laugh from her. "You really can't tell, can you? That's so weird. You're weird."

I took a step back and bowed shortly. "At our social standings, the term is 'eccentric'."

"Ah yes, I forgot. That's so eccentric. You're eccentric." By this time she was grinning, the strain over her dilemma seemingly forgotten.

With that defused, I considered our surroundings. Perhaps there was something here that could aid in our quests for the legendaries. I started to examine the bookshelves, and was pleased that they were grouped by subject.

"Thoughts are getting away with you, aren't they? What are you looking for?"

It had been a reasonable conclusion, I thought. Surely the same had occurred to her to do. "Information on our legendaries of choice. We may be able to find something here."

"Ooh, that sounds like fun."






We spent a few hours like that, finding nothing but sharing notes on what we thought may be relevant to the other. Though it was nothing that we didn't know, it was amazing to find such information laid before us.

Finally we left the library, and Veronica challenged me to a game of chess in the den. But once we opened the elegant doors, there was Asaph, leaning back on the couch with a glass of something in his hand. The room had been lit only through the windows, and by that hour it was growing dim.

"I'm still considering your offer, young lady Veronica," he said in an uneven voice. "Though I need to clear my head first."

"Where did you go to?" I asked.

He sat up straighter. "The kitchen. I was thirsty." After a beat, he rose, grunting slightly as he did. "I'm not nearly as young as I used to be. Time marches on...Pardon me." With a sigh, he headed for the door, and we both made room for him.

"He seems really upset," Veronica remarked. "And is he drunk?"

I'd smelt his breath as he passed, laden with alcohol. "It seems that way. He never drinks to excess." I thought I should continue. "But if he'd been adamant on keeping the gem, he would have said so, so I doubt that's the reason."

"I guess. But he still seems upset."

"Perhaps he received unsettling news. We only got here around noon; who knows what happened this morning."

This time she did flop onto the couch, where he'd been sitting. "I guess. Maybe he heard about what happened in your father's factory."

I doubted that was the case. He'd seemed surprised when I brought it up, and even if he had prior knowledge, he'd have no reason to react so poorly. It would certainly make the news, but not until the evening, after any necessary people had been informed. "I feel a bit odd."

"Eh?" She looked back at me. "About the factory?"

That took a stretch of the imagination. "No, it's...I feel like I ought to have expressed my interest first. And yet it didn't occur to me. I would like to possess the Eye of Dawn as well."

There was that light laugh again, every bit the society lady. "Who knows? Maybe someday you will."

"Maybe I'll have to obtain it from you." I was certain to make my laugh match hers.

But it didn't seem to work, and she changed the subject as abruptly as she often claimed I did. "Jiri...I'm so stressed out. School is getting harder every day."

"I'm sorry to hear that." I sat beside her. "What subjects are you in?"

"The usual. You're so lucky that you don't go. And I wish I could take you to the dance, but it has to be someone else from the school, and you're too young too. I don't like anyone there. They're all so shallow."

"Compared to us shining stars, anybody would be."

"You still remember that, huh? That was a nice trip. I want to go to Goldenrod again sometime."

"Oh?" I leaned back a bit. "You didn't seem to enjoy yourself at all. You were very melancholy in the air, and you had that to-do in the hotel. I wouldn't have thought you had any fun at all."

"Aaah," she sighed, "but the art was divine, and the party was otherworldly. It was, yeah, it was like going to another planet where everyone was so classy and beautiful."

"And your dance won't be nearly as glamorous."

"Not at all! Ugh, teenage boys are so gross. Teenage girls for that matter, but in a different way. You're lucky you've got all this knowledge going into it. I don't think you'll get gross. I know you won't."

"Well, thank you for that. Though I'm not looking forward to puberty. I've started it already, a little bit, but I've got to prepare for the skin issues that will arise." I realised after I said it that it was impolite to say such disgusting things.

She noticed it too, and tisked slightly. "Jiri my boy," she had lowered her voice to say that, imitating Asaph's tone, "you need to think before you speak." In her normal voice, she continued. "If I may share too much, it can take a lot to mask those things. I think I told you about that before, how my mom hired these makeup people to make me 'presentable'."

"Yes sir," I replied to the first part, and she looked at me strangely.

Before she could say anything, one of the servants opened the door. "Pardon me, but Master Asaph invites you to dinner."

"Oh!" Veronica exclaimed. "I didn't even notice it was that late. Jirarudan, will you accompany me?"

I rose from the couch and offered her my arm. "M'lady."

She linked hers in mine with a giggle. "M'lord."




The dining hall was the same as always, with low lights and full place settings though it was only the three of us. I'd half been expecting some manner of après-ski menu given our prior comparison, though that idea had only existed in the minds of Veronica and myself. Asaph was seated at the head, by the far window, so we arranged ourselves at his sides. His expression was impossible to read, even with all my studies--nothing in my cards had resembled that.

Veronica seemed equally puzzled, her brow low and eyes indirect. "Asaph, are you well?" she asked.

His attention first went to the attending servant. "Another glass, please." The man nodded and headed to a low wine cabinet that lined the wall. "...I'm fine. I'm still considering your offer, however."

"It is just that, an offer," she reminded him as she set the cloth napkin on her lap. "You're free to decline, of course."

"I'm still considering your offer," he repeated, a slight bit louder. His glass was refilled and he nodded a thanks. "This is the sort of thing you have to learn to deal with."

Oh? Had this been a test? Was his reaction exaggerated to teach us how to deal with difficult collectors? He was overall a calm man, and overall a generous man, so this was uncharacteristic to say the least.

"I understand. You seem to be under stress from it, though."

He shook his head. "Don't make assumptions, Veronica. Consider the facts and examine your target with detachment."

"I am. And the fact is--"

"Veronica. I'll give my answer soon enough. Be patient." His voice had returned to normal, and his expression to neutral. "...Would the both of you care for some wine? Just a taste, of course, but you're under my supervision."

She smiled, and I did as well. "I will," I said, wondering what it would be like. "Are we to bear anything in mind for it?"

Veronica had requested some as well. "You mean things like terrior and legs and stuff? I know legs means how it stays on the glass when swirled, but I can't remember if that's good or bad."

Asaph chuckled. "Concord, fetch them a taste." The man nodded and retrieved two glasses from the cabinet, as well as the same bottle from before.

The smell was strange, though Asaph would buy only the best. I swirled it around as I'd seen at parties before taking a sip, and I immediately regretted it. It was sour and bitter and went straight to the tip of my nose. But it was what people of class drank, so I sipped again, pushing the resistance away.

Veronica seemed to be doing the same thing, pondering each taste as though it was a fine gem, though her thoughts on it were impossible to tell. "It's a bit dry."

"Yes, it's supposed to be. What else?"

"Uh...I'm going to guess it's got wepear berries in it. And maybe a bit of bluk too."

I wasn't picking up on any of that. The fermentation seemed to overpower everything else, and I wondered if I should say that. After another sip, though, I found myself muttering "I'd rather just have water."

Hearing that, he laughed. "You'll be expected to drink wine at many occasions. You should get used to it. Tell me, how does it taste?"

In my head, the answer was simply "bad", but I couldn't very well say that aloud. "I can't really taste much of it. The alcohol is so strong that everything else is lost."

A nod. "That makes sense, if you're not used to it."

"I feel like it isn't a good match to dinner. I don't know what it is, but going by the smell it seems like they'd counteract," Veronica mused, in her own world.

"I suppose time will tell," he told her. "Speaking of..."

Concord nodded, something I only noticed out of the corner of my eye, and headed into the kitchen.

Veronica was watching Asaph, I presume to pick up on any reaction he may have towards her, and didn't take her eyes off him until after our plates were set before us. It was Kantan fare, the clam and leek soup over rice so popular in Celadon. Briefly I thought back to the time we'd had Farfetch'd salad, and wondered what Veronica would have thought of that.

After we'd begun on it, Asaph instructed us to try another sip. A moment passed once we had before the tastes melded. "That's di--that's not very good," Veronica remarked, lips slightly tight. "They don't go at all."

I looked down at the bowl, trying to sum up the words to describe the disjointedness of the tastes. "It...seems like somebody attempted to dress a clam up with fruit juice and sat it in the sun."

Veronica giggled, but Asaph wasn't amused at all. "Jirarudan, you're being very rude. You know better than to make such insulting comments. Now, sit outside."

That was confusing, and I stared down while I pondered what it could mean.

"Sit outside." It was a bit louder.

"Sit outside? I don't understand."

"Concord will take your chair. You'll sit in the hallway until you can restate your thoughts elegantly."

I'd heard about such actions, in stories both fiction and fact, though they were all set in older times. Modern variants were only found in schools, I'd thought, and involved water buckets, but even those seemed sensationalised. It was as though I'd suddenly been taken elsewhere, much farther than the hallway.

My distance from them was more than a few metres. How far had I gone? Was this part of Asaph's strange behavior or had I truly been so offensive? It was a bit over the top, I knew. Was that enough? The sour taste in my mouth was from far more than the wine.

I could hear them talking inside, reduced to pure voice without distinct words. Was it about me? About the wine or dinner? About our fantasy through Seafoam--no, he wouldn't know about that. I wondered what he would have thought of it, and remembered his anger at our excursion to Viridian.

Asaph had changed. Or maybe I hadn't noticed these things to begin with. He wasn't the calm man I'd first met, taking on strange nervous traits. Though he was getting older, and seemed far more concerned about it than before. He had taken to slightly dyeing his hair, returning more yellow to it, and had added brown contacts to his rotation (unless that was his natural color). His wardrobe hadn't changed, though from pictures I'd seen, he dressed much the same throughout his life.

Instead of thinking further about Asaph, I took the path set by the wardrobe. I liked the clothes I saw around, though I had yet to find my ideal look. Once I did, though, I wanted to wear nothing but. Something for all weather, that would look classy in all circumstances.

My mind again took a branched road, to the weather. Last winter, Asaph had mentioned a heated pool for his Milotic, which he hadn't brought up since. The grand double doors to the back garden were down the hall from me, and I considered heading over there. But I'd been told to sit, so I did. Milotic could wait.

I'd sat there until I lost track of time, when Concord retrieved me. I returned to my seat as Veronica and Asaph chatted away, and I wondered if they noticed me. But Veronica smiled at me as I drew up my chair.

"Have you thought of a better way to phrase it?" Asaph asked with an arched eyebrow.

I hadn't been thinking of anything like that. Had I been meant to? "I...suppose it tasted of low tide," I mused, thinking of the clamdiggers in Seafoam. "The clams are fresh, but the wine made them seem old. It acted against the miso as well, giving them a sweet and sour taste where it should be salty. It throws the taster off."

He leaned back. "Very good. You have to reign in your words. You're a gentleman now."

That made me feel better, somewhat warm. "I'm glad to hear that. May I ask what I missed?"

"I was telling him about the summer line that mother is working on," Veronica filled in. "The world classics line that we modeled was a hit, so she's looking to more varied regions now."

"She never released mine, did she? I haven't seen it in the catalogs or stores."

"No she didn't." A slight giggle. "It was deemed impractical for trainers, due to the fabric. It isn't meant for travel."

"Mm, too bad. It was a classic look. Though I wouldn't expect a trainer to appreciate that."

She sat back in her chair, tilting her heat back to gaze at the ceiling. "Someone called it 'poncy'. I was surprised."

"That isn't a word you hear often," Asaph added. "Jiri, was it you?" He was smiling slightly, with only one corner raised.

I waved my hand in front of my face as if dispelling the thought. "It does sound like something I'd say, but I rather liked that design. What other regions is she looking to?"

"Uh...the Mara region was one she brought up." It was in far off Kenya, known for its enormous pokemon populations. "She's planning a safari look with local style. I don't remember the others. She was thinking Mn Nefer as well, but she stopped because she was only relying on the ancient past for it."

Another faraway region, modern, but once the home of powerful pharaohs. "Yes, we have to have both. The past is the past, but the present can draw from it."

Asaph finished the draught he was taking before replying. "That's very wise. The both of you are very intelligent."

Veronica smiled, broader this time. "Thank you. We're shining stars, after all."

It took me a moment to remember why that term made my stomach sink.

"Of course. Although, I must excuse myself." He patted his mouth with the cloth napkin before gesturing for Concord. "Please tell the kitchen that it was excellent. Pardon me." Standing, he bowed to us deeply and left the room.

I watched Veronica, who was looking towards the door where he had exited, expression back to plain. "Don't worry about it." I hoped I was being reassuring.

"It's what I said." She seemed to droop as she spoke. "It's always what I say. I make things worse all the time."

That had never seemed to be the case. "No you don't. I've always found you to be very polite."

After a pause, she set her spoon over her bowl, the signal that she was finished as well. "Really?"

"Really." Since we were all finished, I set mine as well. "Have you known me to be anything but forthcoming?"

That merited a smile. "I guess that's true. You're sly, you have a devious side, but you're honest."

Sly and devious? Those were unusual. "How do you mean?"

"Well, you had no trouble with the offer Lucrezia's son came to us with, or for my adventures. And you're always looking for opportunities for your collection. You've got a keen eye that's always open."

I sat straighter. "Thank you very much. I admire the way you look at the world, your uniqueness and quirks. You seem like an artist that way." Talking in that way...whatever it was seemed comforting to me. Putting it into words made me think about it in ways that I couldn't when I simply thought about it.

"You're so sweet." She waved a hand in front of her face. "I wish I was as creative as you though. You seem like you're seeing everything for the first time, and it gives you a great fresh perspective."

That was a positive way of looking at things. Better than my frustrations with the world. "That sounds good."

"Still..." she sighed, "I wish that I knew why he left so quickly. Have you ever wished you were psychic?"

"Sometimes, I suppose." The change of subject was a bit baffling. "I assume you specifically mean that you wish to be telepathic rather than, say, telekinetic."

That giggle seemed to indicate that she was perking up. "I guess I do! Yes, that's what I mean. He's so hard to understand today." Even though the conversation had returned to Asaph, she smiled and continued to.

A servant came to gather the dinnerware, so I relayed Asaph's message and posed the offer to Veronica to return to the library.




Despite us being culturally mature, for the purposes of society and manner, Veronica and I were still considered children. It was a matter of frustration that we would have to become adults twice, but for the night it meant that we shared the single bed in the guest room. Asaph entertained frequently, but usually those making the short journey from Viridian, and so he was equipped to suit that.

For all her modern style, Veronica's nightdress was of an old fashion, and foreign, all ruffles along the sleeve and collar, draped to the ankle. Most exotic was that she wore a nightcap, her long blonde hair tucked mostly underneath it. Mine was more typical of our location, a pajama set in dark blue, with a breast pocket for show. It was plainer than I liked, but the material was far more comfortable than her cotton garment looked.

She adjusted the elastic along her cap as she sat, then took a moment to turn off the bedside lamp. "Want to know a secret?" she asked conspiratorially.

"Ooh, palace intrigue?" I leaned in, across my side of the bed. "Go on."

"I don't need my night light now."

That was impressive, after the to-do in Goldenrod. "Wonderful! What changed?"

She laid back against the pre-fluffed pillows. "I dimmed a light a little each night for a while until I was more used to it. Though it still bothers me a little."

"Every little bit," I murmured, sliding under the soft covers. The blanket was every bit as fluffy and thick as an Altaria's wings, and the faint howl of the wind through the woods just outside the window gave an air of gothic drama. Briefly my mind wandered back to the events of the morning, of the sirens and fuss in the factory, and wondered what the employee's family was doing against the cold right then. I'm still not sure why.

"I hope Asaph is all right," she sighed, her arms folded over the top of the pulled blanket. "Where do you think he went after dinner?"

"I couldn't guess."

"Aah, but I can't stop thinking about that jewel! It's so entrancing, like a magic ball."

The light on my end of the bed was still on, but I turned towards her instead, lying on my side and propping my head up on my arm. "You're a true collector, to be so impassioned. I hope to find that sort of passion in my career. It's admirable."

I would, as you know, come to that consumed life in due time.

"Yeah...you will, I think. You're the type that won't have any trouble with it." Smiling a bit and closing her eyes, she added "are you ready to go to bed?"

It had been a long day, feeling like two of them if not more. "Of course." I turned off the light, letting only the dim perimeter lights and the moon off the snow in. "Good night, Veronica."

"Good night, Jirarudan. I hope tomorrow is easier on both of us."

I hoped so too.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

The night had refreshed us, and we were awakened by the morning call of a Dodrio from a distant farm. Veronica yawned and stretched her arms out to brush against the wall. She seemed untroubled, and that she had slept through the night relaxed me as well.

"Pleasant dreams?" I asked, standing from the bed and drawing the thin curtain open. No doubt my hair was a mess, but hers was its typical fluff. Perhaps I ought to invest in a nightcap myself, I mused.

"I don't really remember. But it's better than bad dreams." She smoothed out her side of the bed despite servants to do so. "It's funny. Even that sudden moment when the memories of the day before hit you...it didn't bother me."

"Perhaps you're becoming a true collector."

She stood silent for a moment, putting a hand to her forehead. "...Maybe. Would you mind if I showered first?"

"Not at all." She left without a word and I took a seat by the window, looking out at the landscape. The thin forest surrounding the mansion gave way to grassland and farms. The soft chatter of Pidgeys in the trees came through the thick glass with unusual clarity, and a Raticate stalked for prey in the snow, gathering frost on its fur and leaving a brushy track behind it.

I felt as though I was simply viewing a painting. Something hung on a wall that would be replaced with a different scene in time. But truthfully, I wouldn't have had it any other way.

"It's your turn." It had only been a few minutes, but when sharing quarters with someone it was simply polite to be quick. Even her hair had been blow-dried in the short time.

"Ah, thank you."





We met Asaph for breakfast, and conversation remained light and free of the tension from the night before. Though in theory it was pleasant, in practice it was unsettling, like an exercise in surrealism. I had in mind the image of a painting I had seen, an otherwise ordinary looking man with no nose. The picture had disturbed me, and I'd slept fitfully the night after. I hoped that breakfast wouldn't lead to a similar situation.

As we finished, however, he took the last sip of his coffee and cleared his throat. "Veronica. I have come to a decision."

She sat upright, having adopted a slight slump during the meal. "Yes?"

"...By my calculations and estimation of your wealth, the price we discussed will nearly wipe you out, correct?"

That was odd. It was nearly forbidden to discuss money in public, and I was far enough outside the situation to qualify.

Veronica gulped, but remained steadfast. "I don't care."

He made direct eye contact with her, and I shifted with discomfort. "With that understanding, the Eye of Dawn is yours."

She gasped, a broadening smile forming. "Thank you so much! I won't disappoint you. I'll treat it with the reverence it deserves."

"I do have one condition, however." At his word, she seemed to jump ever so slightly.

"Yes?"

"You will not take ownership of it right away. As you know, I've been invited to participate in an exhibit of the Fuchsia Museum, and I intend to display it there." Though there was nothing left in his cup, he raised it to his lips in a social gesture. "I will list it as on loan from you, but possessed by me, and will surrender full ownership to you after the exhibit closes."

"Yes, of course." Ever the demonstrative speaker, she nodded rapidly, though within the outlines of manners. "I'll have time to set up a proper display for it by then."

"Yes, that should give you plenty of time." It seemed sarcastic, though he would have no reason to be. Perhaps he was genuine and simply tired; I doubted that he had slept well.

Her smile had wavered but never disappeared. "I'll have the full payment to you within the week."

"I expect you will. You're very responsible." That was said without any suspicion.

Maybe it was the light from the high window hitting her just right, but she seemed in that moment to glow.




Asaph forbad me from taking the bus back to Seafoam, and made sure I was bundled up and sent back in Igasho's care. The chauffer rarely spoke, but I was company enough for myself. I'd developed the habit some time before of talking to myself quietly, enough to scarcely be noticed by those around me.

"He'll be busy," I mused, thinking of my father. "So much paperwork and damage recovery. I'll get to be alone, so that's nice. I've got plenty to do." I had a report due for class, and intended to brush up on some of the languages I had studied. Thinking of that, I lapsed into ancient Kantan simply because I could. "<I wonder if anybody can understand me when I say these things...It isn't as though it's common to hear. And there isn't much literature to keep it alive, either.>"

I could hear a chuckle from the front seat. Perhaps Igasho had heard me and somehow understood, or perhaps it was simply a coincidence.

"<The servant must have great hearing.>" Of course, the word for servant was difficult to translate, as it referred to all the staff of a private residence, though in later stages was used to speak of all public employees, such as carriage taxis and merchants.

He chuckled again, and whispered something that sounded like "<They does indeed.>" Ancient Kantan had no gender modifiers, and what would translate as "they" was treated as singular.

"When did you learn it?" I'd reverted to my native tongue and conversational volume.

"A while back. I studied literature before I became a driver. I took this job because it wasn't much work, and I could read between trips."

It was unusual for servants to share their personal lives, but I had asked. "Formal study?"

"A bit. I never went to university, but I read a lot. You read a lot too, don't you?"

He'd never seen me with a book, but Asaph would likely have spoken of him. "Of course. The world is there to unlock."

"That's a nice way of looking at things." That chuckle again. What an odd way of laughing.

"I hope so. I'll be the shining star of the collector world."

"It's nice to have goals."

Neither of us said anything after that.




Seafoam was windy, beating against the buildings and sending the sparse winter populace inside. Tourists stayed away that time of year, and with them their money. Although that didn't affect the factory, with consistent business no matter the weather.

The heat from it, though tempered considerably through distance, kept the house from having to run heat until night. It was one of the few pleasant things about living there. But being the room directly over the ocean, mine was the coldest of all.

I had to spend time there, though. Wearing heavier clothes helped me train for my professional life, a world of formalwear and meetings. And they were more comfortable than lighter clothes, even when it was hot out.

And, of course, that elsewhere I would be pestered by an unpleasant element.

I took up a book on gemstones, the discussion of the past few days putting my mind on them. The usual diamonds and emeralds dotted the pages, but more uncommon ones such as pyrope and kunzite. I idilly flipped to the section on opals.

"Oh," I remarked to myself, "I didn't expect that..." Though there was no accompanying picture, it brought up the Eye of Dawn, devoting half a sentence to it alongside another, larger one that had belonged to a king. The article spoke of histories of certain deposits, as well as artificial ones. The science of artificial gems was an interesting one, but all I cared about was how to detect them. So many collectors, even well-established ones, were fooled by them, although I trusted Asaph in his acquisition. After all, he was the one who taught me to look for them.

Veronica hadn't looked, though. If it had been a fake, she would have been swindled. "I hadn't either, but I wasn't looking..."

She was naive, I thought. Unpolished, to use the language of the book. But I thought of the supposed diamond star, far away in space, and imagined her shining from the heavens someday. "She could be brighter than me."

The thought of her surpassing me inspired a faint jealousy, alongside fainter pride. I wondered how Asaph felt about it, knowing that it was inevitable for us to outshine him.

I'd have servants of my own someday, although it was discomforting. Having to deal with people around my collection on a daily basis as a disturbing thought. Even if they were entirely trustworthy, accidents would be more likely to happen, but that wasn't my primary reason.

To say that I disliked people would be untrue. I liked Veronica. I liked Asaph. I liked Helen. I even liked the bustle of the deal, the rush those dealings gave. But I preferred to be with my collection. Even as sparse as it was in those days, I felt as though I was surrounded by dear friends.

I rolled off the bed where I had come to read, remembering that Asaph had instructed us to sit and stand. I'd wondered about that, since it wasn't a social rule when we were by ourselves.

My mother's ring was slightly twisted on my finger. The ruby wasn't of any reasonable quality, and I suppose a man of sense would replace the stone. But then it wouldn't be her ring.

My other hand rested on the latest addition to my collection, a small netsuke of the prior century, in the shape of a more compact Pikachu. The style of the time had started the trend away from the older designs and towards cuter variants, although it had yet to achieve the Hi Skitty level of commercialism. The ears lay back and the tail wrapped around the body in order to provide a smoother surface, as the carver was still a beginner at the time. But he had gone on to become a master at his craft, even in the decline of the kimono style, and earlier works were sought. I had been lucky to nab it, but the seller didn't seem to know what they had.

"There's so many idiots in this field," I told the carving. "You're fortunate to have been plucked from a life of obscurity. I'll give you the attention you deserve." Until I sold or traded it, of course, as the piece didn't interest me directly, but even something held temporarily ought to be given respect.

Strange as it may seem, I swear I felt as though it was happy.

I'd do that. I'd make a collection the pieces themselves could be proud of.



I had returned to my schoolwork, finishing my maths in short time. I didn't mind it, and I knew it was commonplace for students to hate it. Initially it had been difficult for me to understand, but when a teacher failed to make something clear I knew how to research what I needed.

History was less grasping. Kanto is a land of rich history and fascinating figures, but the textbooks were dry and lifeless. The essays I wrote on it were similar, dull and apathetic. I could do better, of course, but lower quality was already doing very well to them. It was pandering, but it was all they deserved. Initially I had done so to see what would happen. Maybe I was like that sculptor then, satisfying the masses and hoping my real talent would shine through while knowing that it would be wasted to show it fully.

What I had thought earlier, about there being so many idiots, came to mind again, but I hadn't time to think as the doorbell rang.

My father and Helen were in the factory and wouldn't hear it, so I had to leave my sanctuary to answer it. I nearly didn't, admittedly, with that frustration in my head.

But I primed my best manner as I drew open the door at the base of the steps. "May I help you?"

The man wore a shirt embroidered with the name and logo of a nearby television station. "Yes, I'm looking for Corbin."

I had nearly forgotten about the events of the previous day. "Of course. He'll be in the factory. Please try there first in the future."

He pulled back a bit. "Oh um...I just assumed due to the hour...I apologize. Are you his son?"

"Yes. I'll show you there." There was an entrance through the house, but I wasn't about to take him there. "Pardon me for a moment."

If I had to guess, I'd take him for confused when I closed the door. It was still snowing, and I had to dress for taking him through the back. The shoes I had just taken off would suffice for a short jaunt, though they wouldn't be appropriate for longer walks in those conditions.

He had already started to walk around the back of the house, nearly out of sight around the corner, when I returned to attention. I had told him I would show him there! "Pardon me."

"Oh? I'm sorry, you closed the door and I thought you had changed your mind."

"Why would you think that?"

He shrugged. "Aah, I don't know. Anyway, lead the way!"

I did as I had offered, taking him to the gigantic wide doors designed for the delivery of large materials. They were wide open, as they usually were to aerate the factory, and I was able to lead him in without waiting.

"Hey, thanks. Say, what's your name?"

"Jirarudan," I answered as I looked off into the depths of the factory, which was considerably quieter than usual.

"Oh, that's an unusual name. What do you think about the tragedy in the factory?"

How unprofessional. "It's got nothing to do with me. You print hundreds of obituaries every week; do you have thoughts on all of them?"

He backed off a bit from where he had knelt down to address me. "I...see. I guess that's all right. Is that the office in there?"

I could see my father and Helen inside. "Yes. You'll be able to speak with either of them."

"Hey, thanks there J--" I could tell that he had entirely forgotten my name. "kid."

I didn't feel like wasting any more time on him, so I bowed slightly and headed back to the house. He hadn't done any wonders for my sense of disappointment in those around me.

It was pessimistic of me, looking back. The foolishness of the age combined with my awakening of the world past myself...I suppose that always leads to negativity. But I had difficulty looking past those reactions.

Perhaps I had come across as too grim. Saying that the tragedy had nothing to do with me seemed to shock the man, but it was true. Veronica and Asaph had confirmed that for me, and even my initial concern had regarded my lack of reaction to it.

The art world was full of shocking things. Every day I was moved by things that didn't concern me. My world was filling with them like a plungepool under a giant waterfall, and I had all I needed in it.

I returned to my small world, the wonders of it embracing me.



"Hey, Jiri?" Some time later, it was Helen. "Can I come in?"

I had nodded off, my face in a book. "Mm...all right." It was too late for a nap anyway, the sun already down.

She closed the door behind her and stood against it. "Thank you for bringing that reporter to us. They've been coming to the house all day."

"You're welcome." I sat up on the bed, but didn't stand as I should. "There's more to your visit than that."

"Haha yeah...I wanted to talk to you about something he said. Jiri, I know you think that this tragedy doesn't affect you..."

When she paused for words, I added my thoughts. "It doesn't though. The factory is covered against these things, and you have cameras throughout to prove that it was an accident, so you aren't in any danger of closing. Even a lawsuit would be inconsequential."

She sighed and came closer. "I guess you're right. But it comes off as cold, and people can misinterpret it. Even if something doesn't affect you at all, if people are worried about it, you should show some concern. You're so polite! It should be easy for you." With a tilt of her head, she smiled. "What would Asaph say you should do?"

"I asked him," I recalled. "He said I was just happy it wasn't my father."

"Oh huh." She had been in the process of kneeling down but at that, tilted back slightly on her heel. "That makes sense. Yeah, I can see that. But do you see what I mean?"

It wasn't the easiest thing to answer. I understood what she meant, but the approach to the subject was unusual. It didn't make sense, like so much of the world; it was a cloud passing around me. "I'm confused. But I'll try."

"That's good!" She rocketed upwards, back to her feet. "You'll do it. I know you will." Another pause. "You know fathers. They worry. But you're such a smart boy, I don't think we have anything to worry about."

'We' didn't go unnoticed, but I didn't really care. "Thank you."

"What are you reading?"

I closed the cover, marking my place with a finger. "A history of political art in the Cascadia region."

"Oh yeah? I didn't know you were into that. I thought you liked more classical stuff."

"I don't much care for it. But I like studying the evolution of techniques."

Another smile. "Studying is good for you. You're lucky that way. In a way, it's good that you don't want to be a trainer. A lot of kids miss a lot of education that way, even when they take distance classes like you. They don't devote the time they should."

I leaned back against the wall, putting the book aside and drawing my hand away from its place. "You were a trainer briefly, correct?"

"Ah, for a few months. Tried to do the league and everything. I did get a few gym badges, but eh...it's not for everyone. Although I'm glad I did it. Vulpix and I got super close during it, and we had some fun."

I could hear the waves out the window. "She's a beautiful Ninetales."

"She is. Have you thought about having a partner pokémon? Even if you're not a trainer, they're wonderful company. It's a mutual relationship."

I could feel my hairdo become ever so slightly out of place as it rubbed against the window frame. "Someone told me that I remind them of a Xatu."

"Oh, that's clever," she chuckled. "I can sort of see it. Though I think of you more like a Pidgey. Destined for greatness!"

Pidgey were so common, though. I know she meant it as a compliment, more or less, and I suppose I was of common birth, and Pidgeot was so elegant. "Thank you."

"Would you want to have a Xatu? Or anything else?"

Oh, the pokémon I could have listed. Lugia even then was at the top of my list. Likely a Milotic, for show and later trade. Anything sufficiently beautiful or legendary, of course. But nothing that would be usually seen, I thought. "Not really."

"Well, if you change your mind, we could help you find someone."

"No thank you." Such a strange offer. "I can make my own connections."

"Haha! I wish I'd sounded as sophisticated as you when I was your age!" There was a certain charm evident in her voice. "You really are an impressive kid."

That was my aim, of course. I wanted to be that shining star that both my mother and Asaph had said. And I knew I would be. It was fate, destiny, whatever one wanted to call it. "Thank you. I hope to be an impressive adult as well." It came out more serious than I wanted, so I smiled.

"You will be. There's no doubt in my mind about it." I think her smile was more natural. I still hadn't mastered that. "I have to get back down there, but it was nice having this conversation with you. I feel like I understand you more now."

I nodded back. "Thank you. I had a pleasant time as well."

She laughed as she headed back down the stairs, and it sounded like something in a dream.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

The night had refreshed us, and we were awakened by the morning call of a Dodrio from a distant farm. Veronica yawned and stretched her arms out to brush against the wall. She seemed untroubled, and that she had slept through the night relaxed me as well.

"Pleasant dreams?" I asked, standing from the bed and drawing the thin curtain open. No doubt my hair was a mess, but hers was its typical fluff. Perhaps I ought to invest in a nightcap myself, I mused.

"I don't really remember. But it's better than bad dreams." She smoothed out her side of the bed despite servants to do so. "It's funny. Even that sudden moment when the memories of the day before hit you...it didn't bother me."

"Perhaps you're becoming a true collector."

She stood silent for a moment, putting a hand to her forehead. "...Maybe. Would you mind if I showered first?"

"Not at all." She left without a word and I took a seat by the window, looking out at the landscape. The thin forest surrounding the mansion gave way to grassland and farms. The soft chatter of Pidgeys in the trees came through the thick glass with unusual clarity, and a Raticate stalked for prey in the snow, gathering frost on its fur and leaving a brushy track behind it.

I felt as though I was simply viewing a painting. Something hung on a wall that would be replaced with a different scene in time. But truthfully, I wouldn't have had it any other way.

"It's your turn." It had only been a few minutes, but when sharing quarters with someone it was simply polite to be quick. Even her hair had been blow-dried in the short time.

"Ah, thank you."





We met Asaph for breakfast, and conversation remained light and free of the tension from the night before. Though in theory it was pleasant, in practice it was unsettling, like an exercise in surrealism. I had in mind the image of a painting I had seen, an otherwise ordinary looking man with no nose. The picture had disturbed me, and I'd slept fitfully the night after. I hoped that breakfast wouldn't lead to a similar situation.

As we finished, however, he took the last sip of his coffee and cleared his throat. "Veronica. I have come to a decision."

She sat upright, having adopted a slight slump during the meal. "Yes?"

"...By my calculations and estimation of your wealth, the price we discussed will nearly wipe you out, correct?"

That was odd. It was nearly forbidden to discuss money in public, and I was far enough outside the situation to qualify.

Veronica gulped, but remained steadfast. "I don't care."

He made direct eye contact with her, and I shifted with discomfort. "With that understanding, the Eye of Dawn is yours."

She gasped, a broadening smile forming. "Thank you so much! I won't disappoint you. I'll treat it with the reverence it deserves."

"I do have one condition, however." At his word, she seemed to jump ever so slightly.

"Yes?"

"You will not take ownership of it right away. As you know, I've been invited to participate in an exhibit of the Fuchsia Museum, and I intend to display it there." Though there was nothing left in his cup, he raised it to his lips in a social gesture. "I will list it as on loan from you, but possessed by me, and will surrender full ownership to you after the exhibit closes."

"Yes, of course." Ever the demonstrative speaker, she nodded rapidly, though within the outlines of manners. "I'll have time to set up a proper display for it by then."

"Yes, that should give you plenty of time." It seemed sarcastic, though he would have no reason to be. Perhaps he was genuine and simply tired; I doubted that he had slept well.

Her smile had wavered but never disappeared. "I'll have the full payment to you within the week."

"I expect you will. You're very responsible." That was said without any suspicion.

Maybe it was the light from the high window hitting her just right, but she seemed in that moment to glow.




Asaph forbad me from taking the bus back to Seafoam, and made sure I was bundled up and sent back in Igasho's care. The chauffer rarely spoke, but I was company enough for myself. I'd developed the habit some time before of talking to myself quietly, enough to scarcely be noticed by those around me.

"He'll be busy," I mused, thinking of my father. "So much paperwork and damage recovery. I'll get to be alone, so that's nice. I've got plenty to do." I had a report due for class, and intended to brush up on some of the languages I had studied. Thinking of that, I lapsed into ancient Kantan simply because I could. "<I wonder if anybody can understand me when I say these things...It isn't as though it's common to hear. And there isn't much literature to keep it alive, either.>"

I could hear a chuckle from the front seat. Perhaps Igasho had heard me and somehow understood, or perhaps it was simply a coincidence.

"<The servant must have great hearing.>" Of course, the word for servant was difficult to translate, as it referred to all the staff of a private residence, though in later stages was used to speak of all public employees, such as carriage taxis and merchants.

He chuckled again, and whispered something that sounded like "<They does indeed.>" Ancient Kantan had no gender modifiers, and what would translate as "they" was treated as singular.

"When did you learn it?" I'd reverted to my native tongue and conversational volume.

"A while back. I studied literature before I became a driver. I took this job because it wasn't much work, and I could read between trips."

It was unusual for servants to share their personal lives, but I had asked. "Formal study?"

"A bit. I never went to university, but I read a lot. You read a lot too, don't you?"

He'd never seen me with a book, but Asaph would likely have spoken of him. "Of course. The world is there to unlock."

"That's a nice way of looking at things." That chuckle again. What an odd way of laughing.

"I hope so. I'll be the shining star of the collector world."

"It's nice to have goals."

Neither of us said anything after that.




Seafoam was windy, beating against the buildings and sending the sparse winter populace inside. Tourists stayed away that time of year, and with them their money. Although that didn't affect the factory, with consistent business no matter the weather.

The heat from it, though tempered considerably through distance, kept the house from having to run heat until night. It was one of the few pleasant things about living there. But being the room directly over the ocean, mine was the coldest of all.

I had to spend time there, though. Wearing heavier clothes helped me train for my professional life, a world of formalwear and meetings. And they were more comfortable than lighter clothes, even when it was hot out.

And, of course, that elsewhere I would be pestered by an unpleasant element.

I took up a book on gemstones, the discussion of the past few days putting my mind on them. The usual diamonds and emeralds dotted the pages, but more uncommon ones such as pyrope and kunzite. I idilly flipped to the section on opals.

"Oh," I remarked to myself, "I didn't expect that..." Though there was no accompanying picture, it brought up the Eye of Dawn, devoting half a sentence to it alongside another, larger one that had belonged to a king. The article spoke of histories of certain deposits, as well as artificial ones. The science of artificial gems was an interesting one, but all I cared about was how to detect them. So many collectors, even well-established ones, were fooled by them, although I trusted Asaph in his acquisition. After all, he was the one who taught me to look for them.

Veronica hadn't looked, though. If it had been a fake, she would have been swindled. "I hadn't either, but I wasn't looking..."

She was naive, I thought. Unpolished, to use the language of the book. But I thought of the supposed diamond star, far away in space, and imagined her shining from the heavens someday. "She could be brighter than me."

The thought of her surpassing me inspired a faint jealousy, alongside fainter pride. I wondered how Asaph felt about it, knowing that it was inevitable for us to outshine him.

I'd have servants of my own someday, although it was discomforting. Having to deal with people around my collection on a daily basis as a disturbing thought. Even if they were entirely trustworthy, accidents would be more likely to happen, but that wasn't my primary reason.

To say that I disliked people would be untrue. I liked Veronica. I liked Asaph. I liked Helen. I even liked the bustle of the deal, the rush those dealings gave. But I preferred to be with my collection. Even as sparse as it was in those days, I felt as though I was surrounded by dear friends.

I rolled off the bed where I had come to read, remembering that Asaph had instructed us to sit and stand. I'd wondered about that, since it wasn't a social rule when we were by ourselves.

My mother's ring was slightly twisted on my finger. The ruby wasn't of any reasonable quality, and I suppose a man of sense would replace the stone. But then it wouldn't be her ring.

My other hand rested on the latest addition to my collection, a small netsuke of the prior century, in the shape of a more compact Pikachu. The style of the time had started the trend away from the older designs and towards cuter variants, although it had yet to achieve the Hi Skitty level of commercialism. The ears lay back and the tail wrapped around the body in order to provide a smoother surface, as the carver was still a beginner at the time. But he had gone on to become a master at his craft, even in the decline of the kimono style, and earlier works were sought. I had been lucky to nab it, but the seller didn't seem to know what they had.

"There's so many idiots in this field," I told the carving. "You're fortunate to have been plucked from a life of obscurity. I'll give you the attention you deserve." Until I sold or traded it, of course, as the piece didn't interest me directly, but even something held temporarily ought to be given respect.

Strange as it may seem, I swear I felt as though it was happy.

I'd do that. I'd make a collection the pieces themselves could be proud of.



I had returned to my schoolwork, finishing my maths in short time. I didn't mind it, and I knew it was commonplace for students to hate it. Initially it had been difficult for me to understand, but when a teacher failed to make something clear I knew how to research what I needed.

History was less grasping. Kanto is a land of rich history and fascinating figures, but the textbooks were dry and lifeless. The essays I wrote on it were similar, dull and apathetic. I could do better, of course, but lower quality was already doing very well to them. It was pandering, but it was all they deserved. Initially I had done so to see what would happen. Maybe I was like that sculptor then, satisfying the masses and hoping my real talent would shine through while knowing that it would be wasted to show it fully.

What I had thought earlier, about there being so many idiots, came to mind again, but I hadn't time to think as the doorbell rang.

My father and Helen were in the factory and wouldn't hear it, so I had to leave my sanctuary to answer it. I nearly didn't, admittedly, with that frustration in my head.

But I primed my best manner as I drew open the door at the base of the steps. "May I help you?"

The man wore a shirt embroidered with the name and logo of a nearby television station. "Yes, I'm looking for Corbin."

I had nearly forgotten about the events of the previous day. "Of course. He'll be in the factory. Please try there first in the future."

He pulled back a bit. "Oh um...I just assumed due to the hour...I apologize. Are you his son?"

"Yes. I'll show you there." There was an entrance through the house, but I wasn't about to take him there. "Pardon me for a moment."

If I had to guess, I'd take him for confused when I closed the door. It was still snowing, and I had to dress for taking him through the back. The shoes I had just taken off would suffice for a short jaunt, though they wouldn't be appropriate for longer walks in those conditions.

He had already started to walk around the back of the house, nearly out of sight around the corner, when I returned to attention. I had told him I would show him there! "Pardon me."

"Oh? I'm sorry, you closed the door and I thought you had changed your mind."

"Why would you think that?"

He shrugged. "Aah, I don't know. Anyway, lead the way!"

I did as I had offered, taking him to the gigantic wide doors designed for the delivery of large materials. They were wide open, as they usually were to aerate the factory, and I was able to lead him in without waiting.

"Hey, thanks. Say, what's your name?"

"Jirarudan," I answered as I looked off into the depths of the factory, which was considerably quieter than usual.

"Oh, that's an unusual name. What do you think about the tragedy in the factory?"

How unprofessional. "It's got nothing to do with me. You print hundreds of obituaries every week; do you have thoughts on all of them?"

He backed off a bit from where he had knelt down to address me. "I...see. I guess that's all right. Is that the office in there?"

I could see my father and Helen inside. "Yes. You'll be able to speak with either of them."

"Hey, thanks there J--" I could tell that he had entirely forgotten my name. "kid."

I didn't feel like wasting any more time on him, so I bowed slightly and headed back to the house. He hadn't done any wonders for my sense of disappointment in those around me.

It was pessimistic of me, looking back. The foolishness of the age combined with my awakening of the world past myself...I suppose that always leads to negativity. But I had difficulty looking past those reactions.

Perhaps I had come across as too grim. Saying that the tragedy had nothing to do with me seemed to shock the man, but it was true. Veronica and Asaph had confirmed that for me, and even my initial concern had regarded my lack of reaction to it.

The art world was full of shocking things. Every day I was moved by things that didn't concern me. My world was filling with them like a plungepool under a giant waterfall, and I had all I needed in it.

I returned to my small world, the wonders of it embracing me.



"Hey, Jiri?" Some time later, it was Helen. "Can I come in?"

I had nodded off, my face in a book. "Mm...all right." It was too late for a nap anyway, the sun already down.

She closed the door behind her and stood against it. "Thank you for bringing that reporter to us. They've been coming to the house all day."

"You're welcome." I sat up on the bed, but didn't stand as I should. "There's more to your visit than that."

"Haha yeah...I wanted to talk to you about something he said. Jiri, I know you think that this tragedy doesn't affect you..."

When she paused for words, I added my thoughts. "It doesn't though. The factory is covered against these things, and you have cameras throughout to prove that it was an accident, so you aren't in any danger of closing. Even a lawsuit would be inconsequential."

She sighed and came closer. "I guess you're right. But it comes off as cold, and people can misinterpret it. Even if something doesn't affect you at all, if people are worried about it, you should show some concern. You're so polite! It should be easy for you." With a tilt of her head, she smiled. "What would Asaph say you should do?"

"I asked him," I recalled. "He said I was just happy it wasn't my father."

"Oh huh." She had been in the process of kneeling down but at that, tilted back slightly on her heel. "That makes sense. Yeah, I can see that. But do you see what I mean?"

It wasn't the easiest thing to answer. I understood what she meant, but the approach to the subject was unusual. It didn't make sense, like so much of the world; it was a cloud passing around me. "I'm confused. But I'll try."

"That's good!" She rocketed upwards, back to her feet. "You'll do it. I know you will." Another pause. "You know fathers. They worry. But you're such a smart boy, I don't think we have anything to worry about."

'We' didn't go unnoticed, but I didn't really care. "Thank you."

"What are you reading?"

I closed the cover, marking my place with a finger. "A history of political art in the Cascadia region."

"Oh yeah? I didn't know you were into that. I thought you liked more classical stuff."

"I don't much care for it. But I like studying the evolution of techniques."

Another smile. "Studying is good for you. You're lucky that way. In a way, it's good that you don't want to be a trainer. A lot of kids miss a lot of education that way, even when they take distance classes like you. They don't devote the time they should."

I leaned back against the wall, putting the book aside and drawing my hand away from its place. "You were a trainer briefly, correct?"

"Ah, for a few months. Tried to do the league and everything. I did get a few gym badges, but eh...it's not for everyone. Although I'm glad I did it. Vulpix and I got super close during it, and we had some fun."

I could hear the waves out the window. "She's a beautiful Ninetales."

"She is. Have you thought about having a partner pokémon? Even if you're not a trainer, they're wonderful company. It's a mutual relationship."

I could feel my hairdo become ever so slightly out of place as it rubbed against the window frame. "Someone told me that I remind them of a Xatu."

"Oh, that's clever," she chuckled. "I can sort of see it. Though I think of you more like a Pidgey. Destined for greatness!"

Pidgey were so common, though. I know she meant it as a compliment, more or less, and I suppose I was of common birth, and Pidgeot was so elegant. "Thank you."

"Would you want to have a Xatu? Or anything else?"

Oh, the pokémon I could have listed. Lugia even then was at the top of my list. Likely a Milotic, for show and later trade. Anything sufficiently beautiful or legendary, of course. But nothing that would be usually seen, I thought. "Not really."

"Well, if you change your mind, we could help you find someone."

"No thank you." Such a strange offer. "I can make my own connections."

"Haha! I wish I'd sounded as sophisticated as you when I was your age!" There was a certain charm evident in her voice. "You really are an impressive kid."

That was my aim, of course. I wanted to be that shining star that both my mother and Asaph had said. And I knew I would be. It was fate, destiny, whatever one wanted to call it. "Thank you. I hope to be an impressive adult as well." It came out more serious than I wanted, so I smiled.

"You will be. There's no doubt in my mind about it." I think her smile was more natural. I still hadn't mastered that. "I have to get back down there, but it was nice having this conversation with you. I feel like I understand you more now."

I nodded back. "Thank you. I had a pleasant time as well."

She laughed as she headed back down the stairs, and it sounded like something in a dream.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

(apparently I gave the wrong chapter threadmark in the last few idk how that happened)


A few months later, I had managed to find a suitable buyer for the Pikachu netsuke and a few other items, and that was the most I could say about that time. Veronica and Asaph had avoided speaking of the difficulties earlier, at least around me, and the factory had returned to what was normal for it. On the surface it seemed as though nothing had happened, and it was easy to forget that anything had.

The springtime came as a welcome, and I'd nearly misplaced the events that had marred and marked the two previous years. Both of them seemed so long ago, though I felt guilty when thinking that of my mother.

I wore the brooch that Asaph had given me more frequently, although it looked lopsided over the heart, as one was supposed to wear them. The pin didn't bother me, as I'd taken to wearing undershirts. Simply that made me feel so much more distinguished, like a historical gentleman, although a foreign one. Kantoian garments were nothing like what I tended towards, although I opted for a mix of east and west. I was considering purchasing a kimono, though I would have to learn how to tie it, and I lacked a family crest. Perhaps I could create one, as they all had to come from somewhere. But I wasn't an artist.

I was already considering what to wear for Asaph's gallery event, though it was nearly a year off. There was so much to fill the time between, like the area between cobblestones in a road, but it was a set destination. I used that imagery a lot in my essays for school, and imagined the figures as puzzles in an adventure.

That reminded me of the time Veronica had come to town. She'd never seen the factory and that was how I wanted it, but it struck me as curious that she'd never asked. That was likely why, as she was far more adept than I at picking up on those sorts of things. For all the studies in the world, that was still something I had to teach myself. I'd moved my research from still photographs to movies, watching the great actors demonstrate these thoughts. It was a shame that most noted through history were unavailable, film being such a new medium. They could never be shared with the living world, although in a way that made them all the more precious.

I did prize a recording made of a singer trained by a woman believed to be the greatest soprano of all time, although it was a tragedy that the teacher herself lived just before the advent of recorded sound. An early inventor had claimed to have recorded her, although the cylinder was believed lost. If it ever surfaced, if it indeed remained in any condition, it would be perhaps the greatest treasure in all music. Although I never believed that it did, and have yet to be proven wrong.

Ah, but it would have been incredible. To hear the voice of the great Gwynifer Gold! But I suspected it would only be a disappointment, the myth having grown greater in our minds than the reality. Perhaps not. The truth of the Bright Fletchling would never be known again.

But to be a muse, as she was to Christianson! Someone who inspired great works, in his case literature, was someone to be treasured regardless. That was the sort of thing I wanted to possess, things that inspired that admiration and love. As many kinds of passions as there are out there, the greatest of them all inspire art. Only then can they be shared outside the self.

I never hoped to be a muse myself. Someone shouldn't have that great passion wasted on a collector. It's what we bring together that's worthy of praise. Of course, that's not to say that we're not worthy ourselves of some sort of glory. We have to be, entrusted as we are with this divine purpose. But we should always take the background to our collections.

It felt like the chill in the air, remaining from winter, was there almost intentionally, to give us a more dramatic feel to our lives. When I would step away from the inferno of the factory, the cold winds off of the ocean would strike me as though they meant to carry me away, and I imagined it happily. Who else had felt this same wind, spinning its way across the world? What works had it run its delicate fingers across on its way to me?

Having made my usual rounds in the city, which I'd drawn out to once a month, I stopped to write some more of my schoolwork. It was nothing of any challenge, but still took time to complete, and I found myself being distracted by my own thoughts. I could be doing so much more, I mused, but I was chained to the pace and requirements of the Kanto schools. Surely there ought to be a way to leave it up to myself.

Although thinking along those lines was pointless. A more advanced schooling would likely give me what Veronica had, and I'd be surrounded by the same typical children, only gussied up in better clothing. None of them would have the sense of wonder of the world that we had, the urge to seek out its treasures.

But then, stars wouldn't shine so bright if it wasn't for the dimness around them.

It's said to be the lot of young adults to hate the world, isn't it? But I never really did, though it frustrated me. So many things barraged my mind, so many questions raised. Why did people seem to be content with grey lives? Why did they remain unaware of what was all around them? Why were there so few shining stars?

I knew even then that I was more skilled than many of my peers. I was able to excel in all subjects with ease, while others struggled to achieve even half my marks. But in a way I envied how they seemed to adapt to their situations. Had I gone to school normally, I wouldn't have Asaph or his lessons, and I'd have remained barriered and quiet. My garrulous tendencies would never have arisen, and my mind would still be overcome by everything.

My mother had once told the tale of how, in my earlier days, I had been struck severely by a cloudy day. It drove me to tears, and I told her that I had wore out the sky by staring at it too long. I had been so grief-stricken, she said, that I was inconsolable until sunrise. I never remembered doing so, but I trusted her account. The beauty of the sky and the sudden loss of it nearly drove me mad, even then.

I suppose that was a mark on my future.

I had been writing as I thought, and was somewhat amazed to look over my work and see that it hadn't been dominated by my mental subject change. The sums were tidy and tied, and even my handwriting had been crisp. All I had to do was fax in the finished product and that would be it for the week.

That left many empty hours, though. The galleries were being worn thin under my eye, thinking back to that tale. The shops were beginning to fill with kitsch and pandering, anticipating the flood from the mainland in the next several months, and I wanted none of it. Maybe if I hadn't had the outlets I'd pondered, I'd have died of boredom. I wondered if that was possible.

Even with the vast differences between my life and those of others, I was bored. It was time for something lively.

Though I was tempted to suddenly hop a bus to Viridian, it would have been far late when I arrived, and I'd no desire to relive the events of my prior jaunt. Something closer by would have to do.

I gathered up my books and supplies to sling them on my back, the strapped satchel I used a far cry from the bulky backpacks worn by others my age. There had to be something to do around town. I decided to stop by the shopping mall to look through the local travel pamphlets.

By chance I had set up on a table outside the mall, so there was no need to cross the road. I always wanted to cross in the middle when there was no traffic, yet Asaph had said that it wasn't mannered to do so.

I did always hate the place. The dingy colours gave the impression of being filthy no matter how much it was cleaned, the shops were, as I said, pandering and kitschy, and the restaurant was anything but authentic. But near the merry-go-round was a rack of papers on local sights, and just going through them could inspire me with the world greater than myself.

That day, though, the reading was all the same thing as always. The same tourist traps, the same shops, the same time shares, the same drabness that summed up the entire town.

I don't think I was capable of properly displaying my disappointment in an obvious enough manner. Dramatics weren't exactly the height of manners, but neither was anything I set eye on.

But complaining wasn't anything worthwhile, and it seemed that I was doing an awful lot of it. I'd find SOMETHING to enjoy there.

And it didn't take nearly as long as I thought. I had anticipated combing the place for hours, but I saw it right as I turned around. The jewellery store where Veronica had taken the prized rock was before me, unremarkable and unobtrusive. But there had been an idea I'd considered for a while, and this was the perfect time.

It was open to the concourse, overlooking that central merry-go-round, and thus filled with the cheery music that constantly played to invite people to ride. I suppose it brought to mind older days of nickelodeons and parasols, but in the modern day it was merely quaint.

Back in that era I would have found it fascinating. The time when foreign influence was flooding Kanto for the first time in centuries would have been amazing to witness firsthand. The majority of accounts that I could locate were political, and that wasn't what I wanted to read about at all. The people who just a decade before had never travelled past the next town, now open to the scope of the world...ah, what a wonder that must have been! Although of course any like myself would have found it immensely frustrating as well, as knowledge of vastness only makes the smallness of our own lives all the more apparent. Hearing about distant places while being shackled in place only salts the wound.

"Are you all right?"

For a moment I'd forgotten where I was. The shop clerk had drawn beside me and looked down with something I figured was concern. "Ah, yes, thank you. I'm interested in getting a conch piercing. Would you be able to do that?"

He tilted his head back and thought for a second. "I don't think we have any in stock. I can check."

It took me a moment. "Oh, not an earring of a conch shell. I'd like to have my ear pierced here." I put my finger up to where I meant, at the cartilage just above the lobe.

"Uh...hold on..." He wandered behind the counter and shuffled through some papers. "I don't think you can...Not without permission from your parents."

There was never going to be a way to get that out of my father, and there wasn't anybody in the mall I could convince to pass off as a parent. But I did have a backup plan. "Are you certain?" I asked as I retrieved my wallet. "I can't help but notice that you're a trainer," this was with a gesture to a pokéball on the back table, "and poké-chow is only getting more expensive."

"Kid, if you think you can bribe me..." But it stopped there as I laid some money on the counter. I'll not share the sum, of course! But as it turned out, it was enough to convince him to relax the rules.




I'm not certain why I got that particular piercing, but it was unusual enough to stand out while looking relatively typical at first glance. It hurt considerably more than I had thought it would, and I had to keep it rinsed with a pungent solution, but it looked very stylish and I felt refocused. Plus I'd been able to use a new business skill that could come in handy later down the line.

I had to stop myself from tugging at the small ring all the way back to the edge of the cliff, and I got to my room without having to answer any uncomfortable questions. Certainly he or Helen would see it within a few days, but I hoped to be able to wear it long enough that Asaph could see it.

For now, though, I had my own secret. Something known only to me, as if it was a treasure map. Something as silly as an earring was small enough, but having something unique was impressive enough to break the dull day.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

I'd of late been pondering that I needed to be more adept at my research of modern art. Not the style; that tended to be an incomprehensible mess of pretension and posturing. But simply the art currently being produced. What future classics was I missing out on?

Veronica and Asaph and I had touched on the subject of past glory, of the works that were now ruined or lost, and how glorious they must have looked in their prime. I had, of course, mused on this shortly before I had done that impulsive thing.

My father had reacted far stranger than I thought he would, simply laughing and complimenting me, saying it suited me. But then, Veronica would say the same, so it must be true. Asaph had looked at it for nearly twice as long, then said only that I ought to start now looking for a new ring for when I would be able to change it. That was some time ago, though, and I now had a few to choose from. At that time, I believe I was wearing a small gold hoop, a simple, typical thing. While before I had found having small earlobes to be a flaw in appearance, it suited the piercing, allowing the ring to loop around in a pleasing way.

Asaph seemed to have settled, returning to the calm I associated with him. The exhibit that would display the Eye of Dawn was still months away, but he was deeply involved in how it would be shown, and incorporated a 3-D image of the setting to lay it out. I was fascinated with the projection, manipulatable on the computer screen, and he had given permission for me to wiggle the view around, so long as I didn't touch anything else.

But even that was some sort of art. Though it was rough, with garish outlines and colours that had no reality, it was a structured work of creativity and science that delighted me. The factory had a few computers that ran programmes like that, but they were all forbidden to me, so being able to manipulate the image was amazing.

Technology was amazing, and I had to be at the cutting edge of it to follow the latest advancements in art. No, I had to be at the edge and the hilt and everything in between. All of history, not simply of technology but of politics and society and trends...It was a hefty responsibility, but I knew it would be worth it for the sake of my collection. This was of course all far beyond my schoolwork, and required independent study.

Asaph's library was perfect for that, with works reaching back to the dawn of writing. Reproductions, sadly, though many of those were rather old themselves. I was reminded of the ancient library in Mn Nefer, burnt by invaders millennia ago, perhaps the greatest tragedy in history.

I wanted things to be different. Even if I had witnessed it in its glory, likely it wouldn't have contented me. I would have wanted more, from further lands, from the known and unknown world.

But I was where I was, when I was, in an evening overlooking the Seafoam coastline. Asaph's library seemed as far to me as the ancient one did. But either way, I had things to do.

The first few books had been simple, and I'd worked through them in about an hour each. They'd been taken from the drawing room, under Helen's eye, and I wondered what my father could possibly derive from them. The next was more challenging, involving considerably more maths and figures, and I had to pay special attention to the diagrams. I would make copies of them, having to rely on my minimal skills to reproduce the parts involved. Aeronautics was an exciting field itself, and I've wondered if I wouldn't have become a pilot had I never been awakened onto the art world. But then, nobody could truly say. In truth I could never conclude those imaginings because nothing else felt right. I was made to be a collector.

It was a bit overwhelming to be met with all of these charts explaining all of these principles. With nobody to guide me through them, I had to trust my own abilities and knowledge. But with the models I made from factory cutoffs, I was confident that I was on the right path.

Every day I studied everything I could get my hands on. I was always reading, listening, watching. My studies of facial expressions had expanded to body language, though that proved much more difficult. It was odd that I could learn, in depth, the histories of detailed artistic movements and yet I would have been unable to understand the artists fully if I had spoken with them directly.

It was frustrating, having that wall still, despite my best efforts. That level of understanding seemed to come naturally to everyone else. But it wasn't without advantages. Looking at things from an outsider's perspective gave it a sense of neutrality. I came at things unswayed by the trends I mimicked; they were an act in the ever ongoing play that was high society. In that play, I did what I liked, collected what I pleased. Certain things were acquired specifically to be sold or traded, and I felt no connection to them.

My latest acquisition had been a cluster of both. A scroll detailing a damiyo's tea ceremony, filled in with delicate illustrations, was for me, while the rest of the lot would be traded. Mr Higuchi was my best bet, and I had arranged a meeting with him for that purpose.

One of the illustrations showed the damiyo's sister, a detail I hadn't known until I had it in my hands. Fortunate, as I may have been tempted to pay more for it. She was stunningly beautiful, tall and strong. Reputedly she had been excellent with a sword, though her brother discouraged this, and she was relegated to mere practice. Her bravery and elegance became her legacy, as well as the overall tragedy of her life. I would have loved to have met her, to discover that long-ago exotic age though someone relegated to the sidelines.

I would have to have it properly set, in a long frame about three fourths of a metre long, with tinted glass to guard against colour degradation. Such a frame would take some time to construct but I had already cleared a space on my wall for it. For the time being, I kept it in a safe, daintily rolled up, to preserve it from the sea air.

I'd taken to writing to faraway places to request information, and as a result, many pamphlets lay in a drawer in my desk, under the east-facing window. They gave me views into lands beyond Kanto, and though were geared towards usual folk, the sort who couldn't appreciate what they were given, the sights remained the same. One detailed a vibrant river cruise that wound through the lush Cascadia region, far across the ocean. The Parfum Palace was represented, the paper written in the native language. Far to the south, the Alspring region boasted art dating back ten thousand years, while to the west, the Mara region's works could date over a million years.

To think that as a species, humans dated back that long, yet only about eight thousand years were recorded. How many great works have been lost, forever forgotten? How many artists changed the way we viewed the world and will go forever uncredited? How many leaders, trendsetters, inventors, designers, created the modern world yet will never be known?

The idea filled my heart, letting it sink heavily in sadness. I put a hand to my face to ensure that I was making the correct facial expression as I looked out the window. Ships were passing, and a light spring rain had started, rising a mist from the water.

I would wonder about those who passed by. Did any of them appreciate art? Did they stop to look around them? How many shining stars toiled away out there, light covered by the everyday? I was fortunate not to be among them.

These thoughts were recorded in a journal. I'd selected a fine one, from the sacred Vaticanae region, adorned with a rustic photograph of the ornate ceiling of the primary temple. The beautiful frescos and paintings, filling the lunettes and every inch around the top, were then undergoing restoration, and to see the work only partially finished was fascinating. Every time I saw it, I felt inspired, the full faith portrayed in it sending excited shivers through me.

I have never been a religious man, but the idea of that consuming faith has fascinated me. So many various gods and legendary pokémon were worshipped the world over, and the fervour and glory that came with it was truly fantastic. It was the same all-consuming feeling that ran through me when I was surrounded by art, and I wondered if my example would inspire others likewise.

Although not all of it reached me. I had visited a traditional garden outside Viridian, and while considered one of the finest of its type, I felt no connection to it. While the trees were marvellously sculpted by great gardeners, the paths winding and philosophical, and the water providing a mirror meant to give the feel of another world, I was unimpressed. Despite the skill in structure, they were simply trees and bushes and rocks and water to me, and I could see their ilk anywhere. Even the much-touted waterfall pond, full of Magikarp and Goldeen in their fullest specially bred glory, far removed from the common examples of their species found everywhere, only came across as common fish to me.

Truth be told, it was a bit frustrating. But that didn't linger, and was gone by the time I left. I had managed to find a book in the gift shop on ukiyo-e prints, and that consumed my time on the bus ride back.

One may point out that the garden was a work of human hands, but it was meant to mirror true nature in every way. They had succeeded in their aim.

Perhaps it was owing to my life near flowers and trees, but the natural world simply bored me. I could see it any day, and it was always there. Even if I was in the depths of a giant city, those things were still somewhere, and it descended into the mundane, the same as steel and glass. There was nothing special about it, and people who sought to recreate it were beyond my understanding.

As I've evidented, I was prone to losing myself in thought. I suppose my overall summation is that there was much of the world I didn't understand, yet that seems to be oversimplifying things.

I didn't talk like other children, or even adults. I didn't think like them. And for the most part, I didn't want to.

Asaph wanted us to be exemplary, but to do that we would have to encapsulate the very image of society folk. We had to stand out by doing what those around us did. It was a heavy contradiction that puzzled me at times, but it seemed to work. We succeeded at surpassing those around us, and did so with ease.

Shining stars, of course. That again collided with my horizon.

With a huff, I fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "If that wasn't there, I could see the stars," I said aloud as I stretched an arm out as I was reaching for what I couldn't see. "I want to see the sky."

Of course I could see the night sky from out my window, but the frame and glass limited my access. I wanted to hold the stars in my very hand. I wanted to live surrounded by the sky. Someday I would have that airship, and I would be able to see nothing but beautiful things.

I'd started to design it in my head, and my education in 3-D computer mapping and model making lent a practical edge to my fantasy. I was going to make my dream.

I had my leg crossed over my bent knee and tapped the wall with my foot, forming a sort of rhythm that brought to mind a touch of some piece Asaph had played for me. I tried to recall what it was called, and sung along with what I could remember. Most around me in society had some sort of musical skill, and I thought singing would be easiest. Though I had been such a quiet child, by then I had become talkative even when alone, so it seemed a natural choice. Maybe it would prove to be a social lubricant, as the saying went.

Again I thought of the daimayo's sister. Something felt empty when I thought of her. What would she think of the world of today? Of the time between? What would she miss, and what would she be glad to escape? I wanted things to be different, in a much different way than I usually did.

Maybe she would have liked my singing. I could show her around Viridian and Goldenrod, teach her how the language had changed, take her shopping for modern clothes, even modern-made traditional clothes, introduce her to what the full world had to offer. I thought sometimes what her hand must have felt like.

I wonder, looking back, if I could have been enamoured with her, or if it was simply a passionate fascination with a tragic figure from a bygone age. Even now I'm not certain.

But that would come to be familiar. I would love deeply, overwhelmingly so, the utter beauty of the world. I would cherish dearly those rare blooms perhaps more than their creators, and cultivate them into something more than the sum of their parts. What others would dismiss as mere objects were what inflamed such passion in me. Even then I felt it, sometimes as intensely as I would later on, and it pushed me onward to new places, new planes of existence.

Ah, I suppose that's awfully elaborate. But it felt that way, as though every piece, even those I obtained specifically to trade, opened a new door for me into untamed grounds. Even if I simply looked through the open door, it would reveal a new sight.

I had a wondrous future set for me. I never could have foreseen such a catastrophic event...

But I'll get to that, in time.

The world would mine for the taking, the idea of the mythic world tree ripe with fruit just for me to gather. Well, me and Veronica, and Asaph of course. But even then I felt like I would surpass them.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

Spring went into summer, and again into autumn, and again into winter. The great wave came and went to much fanfare, the festival presided over by a former victor that my father was more than excited to meet.

The idea of a sporting star being the target of so much adoration was at first repellent to me, until Veronica pointed out the historical and even artistic precedent of such things, the ancient athletes lauded as heralds of the gods, and immortalized in song and sculpture. The feats of demigods fell into that idea, those of labours and legend.

Perhaps some future generation of collectors would surround themselves with the celebrities of today. Though thinking of things in that way was frustrating, as art of modern athletes tended towards the ironic or political, with themes of idol worship or consumerism. I wondered if the ancient collectors were met with the same blocks.

My thoughts of any single subject were brief, however. Overriding all else was the upcoming exhibit, with the prized Eye of Dawn front and center in the minds of us three. Veronica was bubbling over with excitement from her future acquisition garnering so much attention, while Asaph had been interviewed and photographed for the exhibit book. I had been present for the shoot with the gem itself, and had helped Asaph ensure that his tailored deep green suit was draped just right as he sat next to the Eye, posed like a king. I recall his eyes were green that day.

Someday, I imagined, I would be in exhibit books. I would be the one to show off my collection, talk about its history, and indulge myself in the showcase. It would be nice to get recognition, although of course I would be secondary to the displayed treasure. That was the nature of collectors, after all.

Veronica had not gone unnoticed, though her involvement was limited to her role as Asaph's pupil alongside me. We were not photographed nor interviewed, and I had asked that I not be named in case my father were to find out.

I still felt the need to hide it. Asaph told me that if I spoke about my experiences, my father would be confused. "He doesn't understand," Asaph had said, and everything my father did had enforced that. He created remarkable designs for his airships, but he seemed to have no head for understanding the minds of those who purchased them. His helicopters perhaps, and even then he was pounding out another dozen or so for Lucrezia's organisation, but even his simplest of airships, as elaborate as they could be, were simply puzzle pieces to be assembled. The puzzles bore remarkable images, beautiful even, and that part meant nothing to him.

It was frustrating, locked in that situation. I had far more freedom than others of my age who refrained from a trainer journey, traveling to Viridian a few times a week, exploring the ins and outs of Seafoam, reading deep the history of the world. But every time I would return to that room over the sea, and as much as the sea changed daily, it would always be simply what it was.



One day, soon after the photo shoot, I asked Asaph if it was indeed possible for someone to create something indistinguishable from true art if they did so without feeling. He pondered the question for a moment, raising a finger to his cheek and staring out the window in a stylized depiction of thought. "I wonder...perhaps it depends on the observer. If we don't know the story behind a piece, it is often enough to have the piece stand alone. We can regard something like that as true art, yes?"

For some reason, I remembered the strange sculpture from the Mandarin museum. It was sloppy and barely resembled what Asaph had claimed it represented, but people held it in high regard from its age alone. It could have been the culmination of an artist's lifetime, or perhaps it was a simple coincidence in the hands of a playing child. If people knew for sure, would it change anything? If I knew hard work had gone into it, would I fancy it at all? Or would I be even further stymied by it, viewing it as an utter waste? If I knew it was a random result, would that only confirm my view of it, or would I feel enlightened at a respectable piece coming from sheer chance? "Do you think...that my father's airships are art?"

He smiled, mirroring the expression of amusement. "Oh, is that what this is about?"

I flopped down in a high-backed chair, just a bit too quickly for manners. "He's so shallow. He has no mind for better things. But his ships are so highly regarded. I don't understand."

"Well..." Asaph took a seat across from me. "I certainly wouldn't have come to him if I didn't see the appeal. Though I was disappointed in him, personally." He shrugged. "I had expected someone more in tune with his creations. It's the process that concerns him rather than the end result. At least, that's how I see him."

"I have the impression that he doesn't care," I added. "The structure is what concerns him, the construction, without the aesthetic appeal. Like a..." The words fumbled around in my mouth, "I suppose like a tract house. But by sheer happenstance, they end up beautiful. How could that happen?"

"I think..." he mused, "beauty is what the viewer takes away from it. You and Veronica saw the same gem, and it bewitched her. You found it beautiful, of course, but it didn't consume you."

To me, that was a tangent, not related to what I was asking. It was clear that his thoughts were dominated by the Eye, and perhaps I wouldn't get a direct answer out of him. So still I wondered.




As the exhibit approached, only a month or so away, I continued my own career with thoughts to the future, delving ever into the past. The prior conversation stuck with me as I studied scientific innovations. So much of it had been inspired by science fiction, with young fans becoming adults determined to make their fantasies reality. Was that art? And did that make the original works art, no matter how cheaply they were made and no matter how little thought was put into the practicality of their displays? Some had great care taken to display futuristic technology as something rooted in reality, but others were sheer fantasy and yet both were coming true. The force fields I had seen the Omastar displayed in had stemmed from such a fantastic approach, something included as a plot device in wire-laden battles between model spacecraft, and yet there they were.

Some things inspired in such a way could never be considered art, of course. The very concept of the atomic bomb had stemmed from a science fiction novel, but the novel itself was a magnificent work. In that case at least, the relationship was only one-way. It didn't have any of the sticky questions of the other examples, so despite its savagery, I preferred it.

The thought of a painting I had once admired came to mind. Though I had lost interest in it since, it was considered a masterpiece among landscapes. At first glance, and indeed at any glance, it was a beautiful meadow, alit with Volbeat and Illumise in early evening, with gnarled trees sprung up here and to. But it carried with it more than simply the view, having not fifty years before been the site of a horrific battle. It was said that there was not a speck of ground not tainted with blood, and yet when the painter viewed it, none of that anguish remained. I did appreciate his practical view of things, as when asked if the fireflies were meant to represent the souls of the dead, he had said simply that they were there when he painted it. He had painted it as it was to his eye, and the spectre of the battle was in the eye of the viewer.



Regardless of all that, the exhibit loomed. Asaph made several trips to Fuschia to oversee the sight of the display, though Veronica and I were left to wonder at it. The Eye of Dawn was not his only piece to be hosted, and it was the placement of an ancient sword that took up the majority of his time there. He compared it to a puzzle, which only made us want to see the process first hand. The computer simulation only gave an outline and didn't suffice.

We were both spending the night at his mansion again soon before the event. As before, snow was falling, and faint calls came from the surrounding forest. The pond that had once housed Milotic had been converted into a fountain, and the sound was a gentle counterpoint to the stillness as we explored the backyard.

Veronica was pondering a sculpture, a brilliant sunburst that transformed the dull stone into vibrant light. The snowfall gave an odd backdrop to the work, giving it depth and motion as well. I followed her line of sight to the lower ray of the sculpture, where it attached to the base. When she noticed I was watching her, she gestured over to the spot. "I was looking at this here. It's like the artist carved it and then remembered it had to be displayed. The way the lines go, it was like an afterthought."

I examined the place where the bracing stand entered the stone. Sure enough, the lines and scoops that made up the body of the sun followed a line that didn't account for the position of the rods. "I wonder if Asaph noticed."

"Of course he did. He wouldn't have bought it if he hadn't gone over everything there was to go over. But I was thinking that it's pretty regardless."

The sight was jarring and uncomfortable, but in a way that put the piece in a different light. "I want to see it without that. To compare them."

"Do you think the artist made other models?" she asked, still staring.

"I don't know. But it would be fascinating to see a perfect version."

Veronica laughed. "I like it. It makes it even better, knowing a beautiful piece like that can still be beautiful even with an inconsistency."

For a moment I remembered her woes with adolescence, and wondered if her comment reflected that. But her comment had a ring of general truth. It was something innate in our society, that something was perfect for its imperfections, and that was a thought I had never felt true. Imperfection was all around us, and art was supposed to whisk us away from those dull things. It felt uncaring to prize a sloppy piece.

A bowl in Higuchi-san's collection was all the more valuable from a chip that marked the side, where it had been dropped during a siege on an ancient samurai's land. It would have been valuable without that imperfection, but it showed use and function, and was seen as proof that the samurai had handled it himself. A necklace in Asaph's collection, a glimmering pearl string, was dotted with misshapen pearls, and this was evidence that the pearls were natural rather than farmed or artificial. Even everyday people recognised this in a fashion, as I had seen flowerpots through the city, chipped and even shattered, reconfigured into fairy steps and segmented planters.

But my original thoughts remained. It could be said that I valued more foreign aesthetics, but even that wasn't quite accurate. Statues that were rediscovered incomplete and displayed and beloved that way, I wanted to see them whole. A thoughtful expression in a portrait, I wanted to see the subject laughing. It wasn't about imperfections, but rather a want to see things differently, a desire to shape what I took in.

"Are you listening?" cut through my musings.

"Mm? Oh, I apologise. I was lost in thought."

"Well, here's a map." She held up a snowball. "Let's go over to the front driveway and have a snowball fight!"

I was about to refuse until I remembered a picture of imperial court ladies, the model of sophistication and manner, engaged in such play. So I laughed. "I'll race you!"





Wiping snow from my cap, I held the door open for her. "I don't think having Ralts teleport the snowballs behind me is fair play."

She giggled. "If you had a pokémon, I'd let you use them."

"In a case like that, I like to think you would have at least established the rules in advance."

One of the maids greeted us with a bow, and I wondered if she had been waiting the whole time. "Master Asaph bids you join him in the dining room."

"Oh, is it that late already? It seems like it only just got dark."

She smiled. "Time flies. Let me take your coats."

Veronica fluffed out her hair as she handed the maid her coat. "We had a lot of fun out there. Jirarudan has quite an arm! I'm not sure who won, though."

"Probably whoever had the most fun."

The reply left me a bit dry. It may have been true, but it felt like there was something hidden in it.



There was always a welcoming comfort to that mansion. I dreamt of it, and when I confessed that to Veronica, she admitted the same. Despite the rising wall between her and Asaph, she too couldn't resist the allure of the place.

And I couldn't understand why that rift existed. He had agreed to the sale, and if he had regrets, he was fully capable of calling it off. Would it be untoward to approach him with this? I pondered.

It was worth a risk, or so I hoped. After dinner, I headed to Asaph's study. He was already reclining on a magnificent méridienne, a long pipe to his lips and some thick liqueur poured from an elegant bottle. Though he sat up when I entered the room, I doubt he noticed me, attention on the opal before him. The Eye glimmered even in the low light as though it truly watched us, and I noted that must have been how the legendary priestess's disciples had felt.

The Eye looked strange there, as I glanced at it. The gallery had been a much better place but he had moved it for the photographs, and that seemed a bit dishonest. Regardless, it would be headed to the museum the next day, the last piece to join the exhibit.

"Asaph." I said his name boldly, trying to be firm but respectful. "Have I interrupted?"

He shifted, turning towards me while remaining seated. "Come here for a moment." When I did, he put a hand on my shoulder. "What are you thinking right now?"

"Um..." I was rarely at a loss for words any more, but his question took me by surprise. "I wanted to speak with you about Veronica."

"Ah, Veronica..." He chuckled, smiling. "Growing up so fast. I can't really stop it, can I?" Despite his expression and laugh, I knew this was still his melancholy. "Would you like a drink? Brandy may be more to your liking than wine."

"Sure." It was an immature answer and I chastised myself for it.

As he set his pipe aside with a bit of a cough, he chuckled again. "Ah, I haven't smoked in years. But I just got this pipe, and I suppose some of the old urges came with it. Sometimes I just can't resist, even when I know something is terrible for me. Do you ever feel that way?"

"Of course." Didn't everyone? He was doubtless talking about something more specific. "Regardless, I wanted to talk to you."

The glass he gave me had only a dash of brandy. "Go ahead," he said as he replaced the cap on the decanter.

"I know this business with her has upset you." When I said that, he turned from the cabinet to face me full. "But you have the ability to change your mind. To decline her offer."

"Ahh..." He shook his head. "I know. And that's the idea I wrestled with not only the night the offer was made, but for a long time after." The hand on my shoulder again. "Jirarudan, my boy, the both of you are growing up. Time, as they say, marches on. And eventually you'll both be magnificent collectors." He drew back a drink from his glass, finishing it. "I should have known when I took you both on that I would have to face that at some point."

I'd taken a sip as he spoke and found the taste more agreeable than before, but still awfully strong. "But I don't like being a child," I sighed. "It's terribly boring, and I'm rarely taken seriously. I want to be an adult."

His shoulders slumped. "You'll regret it later on. Savor those youthful days, Jirarudan. I don't want you to have any regrets. When you're my age..." Again, he laughed to himself. "I suppose I'm no better than the emperor of Sinnoh, trying to summon the deity of time so he could remain young and reign forever...Already I've outlived him, you know."

Asaph wasn't particularly old, if I recalled correctly, but the short lives of people who sought immortality were a common irony. On the other end, I thought to the far ancient Ki-en-gi region, a primal settlement where the kings were said to have reigned for tens of thousands of years. I wondered if I should have brought it up, but it was impolite to bring up someone's age. Though he had posed the subject...I thought for a moment, longer than I realized.

"Jirarudan? Are you listening?"

I snapped to attention. "I apologise. I was distracted."

He smiled. "Beauty does that." It wasn't until I followed his line of sight that I realised he was still watching the Eye. "My boy, I want you to learn from me."

"I do. You're a wonderful teacher." Despite my saying that, he was beginning to lose me, and I wondered if I shouldn't have just avoided the initial subject altogether. "If I may, though, I still don't quite understand."

As he fetched another drink, the light from the Eye shone across his face. "We can talk about it later. Right now, I'm feeling terribly worn out." He turned what remained from his pipe out into the ashtray to extinguish it, and finished his newly refilled glass in a gulp. I thought about doing likewise but instead just took another sip, which turned out to be all that was left in mine.

"All right. Rest well."

He tilted his head back and laughed softly. "You're growing up too, aren't you?"




The guest room had been redesigned, with two smaller beds replacing the single large one. They lay side by side with a small table between them, decorated with an antique lamp. Veronica had claimed the bed closer to the window, and when she sat upon it, the luxury of the mattress and bedding was obvious. "Aah, what a day," she sighed. "I'm glad to have a few days off." Lying back, she kicked her slippers off and worked her necklace loose, sliding it over to the table. "Where did you go after dinner?"

"I was talking with Asaph." Heavens, that was a soft bed. "He's terribly upset, but he's set in going through with your offer."

She was silent for a moment and I was about to repeat myself. "...If he didn't want to part with it, he wouldn't have agreed to it. That's all there is to it."

"That's essentially what he said. Though I think you'll have to bring this up to him yourself."

"What's to bring up?" she asked as she rolled over to face me. "If he didn't want to part with it, he wouldn't have agreed to it." The same words came a beat faster. "Even if he regrets it, he's still doing it." But she paused again, and came to rest her head against the cover. "...That's not heartless of me, is it?"

I laid back, squirming slightly to remove my socks. I hadn't noticed that they were still slightly damp from the snow. "We're all adults. We can make our own decisions."

"Yeah...adults. ...I could fall asleep right here."

"If you're not going to shower, I'll claim it. But at least change into your nightclothes." I smiled, hoping it was landing on 'amused'. "It wouldn't do to wrinkle up your nice clothes."

She picked her head up just to stick her tongue out at me.

"Adults, yes." I laughed, but I also felt a little superior to her at that moment.




During the night, I awoke to find her staring out the window. Her back was to me, but it was almost as though I could see her expression. Her hand drew down the glass, leaving a trail through the slight condensation, and she sighed heavily.

I wondered if I ought to say something to her, but decided against it. I rolled with my back to her and quickly fell back asleep.



She wasn't in bed when morning came, and I wondered if she had stayed up all night. I listened to see if she was washing up, but there was just silence. After a few minutes more, during which time I pulled the comforter up over my head to savour the feel of the luxurious bed just a little while longer, I reasoned I should get up.

Usually it would be considered impolite to not dress for the day, but at Asaph's house we were permitted to attend breakfast in robe and slippers. Mine were a matching set in soft purple, just a few shades off of lavender, and very comfortable without sacrificing appearance.

I headed for the sitting room and found Veronica, reclining on the couch under the window with a book next to her. I recognized the book as one I had gone through, a guide to famous jewelry written nearly a century ago. Since then, various golden ages had taken place, especially the rise of Hollywood style, so it came off as nearly quaint to the modern eye.

"Oh, good morning, Jiri." She smiled up at me and brushed a strand of golden hair over her white robe. "You were sleeping so soundly that I didn't want to wake you. Asaph agreed."

"What time is it?" There was a clock in the guest room, but I hadn't checked it.

"Uh...I think it's about half past ten. It's not like we have anything set to do today though, so it's ok."

I took a seat in the armchair beside her. "Have I missed breakfast?"

"Not really. I mean, Asaph and I already ate, but it was a cold dish so it's all right."

That wasn't surprising. Recently, Asaph had taken an aesthetic interest in the Botha region, halfway across the world, and the meals from his kitchen had embraced that tradition.

She pulled up to a sitting position and set the book on the table beside her. "Want to have another snowball fight?"

What an odd thing to ask. "No. I don't think we should." I thought back to what Asaph had talked about the prior night. "I'm hoping to study some in the library today."

"That sounds like a good idea. What about?"

"Whatever strikes me."

She laughed, a short chime. "You have so many things that do. You're lucky that way. You see beauty in the most unusual places, and I like that."

"Well," I thought aloud, "the world is an unusual place." I didn't know what I meant by it. I think I just wanted to make her laugh again.

And laugh again she did. "It sure is. What's something unusual on your mind right now?"

Thinking of something was simple. The hard part was narrowing it down. "Ah...hm. There's a book in the far corner of the library that smells horrid. I believe someone spilled something on it at some point." It had come out purely at random.

"I know the one you're talking about!" Her arm shot out as though she was pointing towards it through the wall, and I suppose it was in the rough direction of the shelf containing the book in question. "It's about making beer. I think it sat in the brewery for a century too long!"

"Yes, that would explain it." I tried to copy her laugh but failed. She was still smiling though. "I would have thought the auctioneers would have tried to air it out. Although at least Asaph keeps it protected." The book, along with a few others dotting the shelves, was kept in a protective wrapping that permitted the viewer to see the spine. "It's better than that musty smell that so many old books have, of course."

"Oh, I know! It's so gross and I don't know how book collectors manage it. And it can make you sick since it can harbor a fungus." She waved a hand as if smelling something foul.

The conversation was amusing, but I had other things to do. I gave another smile and headed out, closing the door behind me.



She had put the idea in my head, and the scent became impossible to ignore. I left the library soon after, though usually I was able to spend hours in there. Granted, I had been the one to mention it in the first place, but I wouldn't have without her presence. It was a strange feeling to be confronted with the sudden realisation of what had been around me the whole time. Instead, I returned to the sitting room and found Asaph there instead.

He removed his reading glasses as he stood. "Jirarudan. Are you well?"

"I am," I replied as I tried to think of the rules for asking the same in return, finally settling on "How has your day been?"

"Oh, I can't complain. Come here."

As he returned to his seat, I took the chair next to him, but he patted the couch cushion beside him, so I moved to it. "All right. I'm here now."

He chuckled a bit. "I'm sorry to catch you in the middle of all this. I want you to know that you're still very dear to me, and that hasn't changed."

That was unusual. "I haven't doubted that. The situation between you and Veronica doesn't impact me."

"Our conversation last night showed me a young man very concerned about the people close to him." He slid an arm around my shoulders. "Even if, as you say, it doesn't affect you, you still want to make things right."

I hadn't said that it didn't affect me. I had said it didn't impact me. In my mind, those were very different things, but he had enough on his mind. "What are you reading?"

"Hm? Oh!" A book on the side table had prompted my question, as it hadn't been there before. "Veronica must have brought this in. Ah, it's a history of the Alspring region. I think she brought it from home then." He straightened it, lining the sides up with the edges of the table. "You both do such in-depth research into what you want. It's admirable."

"It just makes sense." I wouldn't comment that I had never known her to do near as much study as I did. "Before we bring something into our lives, we should know it as fully as we're able."

"We should," he said as he pulled me a little closer. "And sometimes even then we make mistakes...Nobody can prepare for everything."

"Even the greatest collectors in history have encountered fakes," I affirmed. "We're only human. Though I can't imagine who would want to con a king, for instance."

"Only the very bold and the very foolish," he laughed, something I could feel vibrating in his chest. "Sometimes we get so wrapped up in our zeal that we forget ourselves. But as collectors, we can scarcely help it."

I curled up next to him on the couch, making sure that my feet still hung over the side, and rested my head on his shoulder. "I want to be able to have that much zeal someday. Like you and she have for that gem." Perhaps I shouldn't have wished for that.

"You will. You're a very passionate boy, and the love for the future you've chosen shows that you have a greater appreciation for the world than most." His hand came to my hair and rested on the back of my head. "You're going to be a great man someday."

"A shining star, you said." It took a moment before I remembered who else had said that. "You know, my mother would have liked you. She wanted wonderment out of the world too."

"Do you take after her?"

"I've been told."

He chuckled. "Then I'm certain I would have liked her too."




After we'd stayed like that for a while, and after I'd finally had some breakfast, the three of us each found ourselves in the library once more. Veronica was already hard at work when I arrived, and it seemed as though Asaph had just begun a search for something. A private library of nearly two thousand books was ours to share, but it seemed small after a while.

"Alspring again, Veronica?" I asked. "We saw your book in the other room."

She giggled. "Sort of. I'm reading about the history of opals. This book talks a lot about the Eye of Dawn. It's a seminal example; quite famous. I'd heard of it before acquiring it, of course, but I didn't know there was so much written about it."

Asaph seemed to tighten at her words, and it was no wonder. She had stated that it was already hers, and even if it was in all but name, that name was his until after the exhibit.

"What about you? What are you here for?"

I hadn't planned on anything, just to wander around. Ought I say the first thing that came to mind, as I did a few hours before? "I'm not sure yet." Turning towards Asaph, I spoke a bit louder. "Perhaps Asaph has a suggestion."

He set his own book down. It was an autobiography of a deposed king from a European region, a first edition. "Well, when did you last study your Kalosian?"

I had a bit of difficulty with that language, and it was far easier to read than speak. "Longer ago than I ought. I suppose you can help me narrow it down."

Asaph searched the shelves to and from for a moment. "Ah! It's upstairs. The bookshelf in my office has one you may enjoy. Bring it down here. La Goupix Prince."

I had read that myself, years ago, in translation. The titular prince wasn't a Vulpix, but rather befriended one. I bowed to Asaph to take his leave and headed upstairs to retrieve it.

His office was small, and he used it mostly to research future acquisitions. For literature to be among those tomes of phone numbers and other contact information was unusual, but it seemed that the book I sought wasn't alone in being out of place. He likely would head to his office with a book in hand and forget to retrieve it.

The hunt and the acquisition were everything to us. Even my far less significant pursuits had meant so much, and even when they gave only things that I intended to trade away in the future that I felt no connection to. It was a giddy high, and I could certainly identify with that scattered mindset. Who knew what sort of fantastic items he had achieved while at that desk?

I settled into the desk chair and tilted it back slightly, taking in the softness and the slightly worn feel of the armrests. It was positioned a bit higher than the more visually striking chairs on the other side, a psychological ploy to have the upper hand in any deals. Neither of the others looked as though they had ever been used, and it was no wonder. While his gallery was on the first floor, hardly anybody was permitted to enter. The second floor was entirely private, and he would never simply invite anybody up unless the situation demanded no less. While he had clearly prepared for that event, I doubted it had ever taken place.

Staying there longer would have been wonderful, but they both expected me down there. I would have to ask to see his references sometime soon, though.



When I returned to the library, Veronica had already moved on to another book, this one about jewelry. While the Eye wasn't considered jewelry, many other opals were covered, including a stunning diadem on the open page. "You would look lovely in that," I whispered as I sat across from her.

Again my mind wandered to the subject of what Asaph planned. The library must have belonged to his parents, as there were two facing spinet-style desks and a couch. More than one person was meant to be here, weren't they? Or perhaps it was simply an aesthetic. Both desks had been salvaged from a distant university library, and bore the ghosts of hundreds of years of essays and study, some lightly imprinted into the wood as they had been written.

"-get started?"

Oh no, I had missed her reply. "Pardon? I apologise; I didn't quite hear you." Best to be honest, but not too honest.

She blinked a few times before smiling. "That's all right. You really think I would look nice in this?" She tapped the page with her thumb. "I wouldn't think of anything to wear with it! It would have to be so plain so that it couldn't even begin to take the stage."

"I'm sure you could do it."

"I...thank you. Thank you." She fidgeted with the pencil in her other hand, tapping it against her notebook. "Um...I also asked if you're ready to get started. Your own book."

"Of course." I set it carefully on the desk and opened it, waiting for my brain to catch up with the foreign words. It was faster each time, it seemed, and I noticed with some glee that there was no loss from the gap in time I had taken.

The book was far more engaging than I had recalled, and by the time I had finished, Veronica and Asaph had both left the room. The book Asaph had been reading still waited on the end table next to the couch, and in my fancy I thought perhaps there was some relevance to the things that had arisen in my mind.

Alas, I found nothing. It was a straightforward read, even rather dry from what I saw. Perhaps my fantasies had gotten ahead of me. Usually I was more practical than that.




The day dawdled on. Veronica was again at work, this time on school assignments, and Asaph had returned to his study, so I took to the gallery. It felt so very right in there, truly a place I was meant to learn from.

There were pieces with those same imperfections, which got me to thinking again of the conversation I had had with Veronica before. When a piece had been damaged, that was one thing. But if a piece turned out with a flaw and was still lauded for it, how did the artist view that? Surely there were so many who had nothing but frustration for being unable to capture their true vision. Even within our own culture, that had to exist, even if less than in the wider world.

A setting of a fantasy, that was the gallery. I wished for that fantasy, fervently and truly and perfectly. I could lose myself in even a collection that wasn't mine. Museums held me as surely as the Earth spins, and I could fall into them entirely. A wonderful, blissful abyss, holding Paradise itself.

Though, like Paradise, my time there was limited. This wasn't my place; I was a mere visitor to that fantastic world. By the time I pulled myself away, several hours had passed. I wasn't sure how I felt for that. A trip to those realms always felt simultaneously an eternity and an instant, and leaving them left me in a daze. It was glorious, and someday that feeling would be mine forever.

As I wandered away from it, I found myself headed in the direction of the study. Asaph would be there, likely in no mood to speak, but in some indescribable way I wanted to be there.

Surprisingly, I found him looking out the window, away from the Eye. "Asaph?" I wouldn't move from the doorway until he permitted me to enter.

After a pause, he shook his head. "Jirarudan..." His voice was soft. "Do me a favor."

"Of course. What is it?"

He set aside another glass, likely filled with more of the brandy. "Don't waste your life. Promise me that."

"I won't waste my life. I promise."

"Promise me!" He spun around and was before me in an instant, kneeling in front of me. "Promise me."

"I promise." What was this about?

"Good boy..." His hands slid around my back as he gently pulled me into a hug. "You've always been such a good boy..."

He was shaking. "Are you all right?" I asked as I begun to return the embrace.

But he pulled out of my grasp, sliding away from my hands. "I am. Just a bit tired still. I'm sorry if I scared you." He wiped at his eyes. "Maybe I'm coming down with something. Though mostly I'm just tired. I'm sorry."

That couldn't be it. "That's all right." I leaned forward and patted his shoulder. "You've been very busy lately. It's understandable that you would be exhausted, but the exhibit is next month. It's soon enough."

He grinned and returned the gesture, and I felt a little better. "You're so wise. I'm supposed to be your mentor and yet..." Then he stood. "Come sit with me."

I followed him to the couch and did as he asked, his arm around me coming as no surprise. What did surprise me, however, was how he didn't speak.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

(WARNING! This chapter contains uh....big spoilers here

Spoiler: big spoilers for the last scene in this chapter

child molestation by an authority figure, told by an unreliable narrator

so if you want to avoid that, stop reading when they leave the party. It doesn't go into any detail but it's clear what happened)




Everything was finally together, every detail arranged down to the finest. The exhibit was at last upon us.

All the planning in the world seemed to be so distant, however, as I plotted what to pack. Asaph was to take us to the opening night, and we would stay over in a glamorous hotel, as the usual plan went. Though the luxury was part of our lives, it was anything but routine no matter how often we did it.

But this was the first time I would serve as a representative of part of the exhibit. Asaph's involvement as one of the highlighted collectors put an extra responsibility on Veronica and me, possibly the biggest we had experienced so far.

Not only did I have to look the part, I had to act it as well, and the normal degree of class likely wouldn't suffice. I would be expected to go beyond what was demanded of us on an everyday basis, and that was already something that was beyond reproach.

We would have to be flawless. I suppose most people would have been terrified, but I relished the opportunity. It was, after all, something Veronica and I had spent so long refining at similar events that it was second nature to us.

"Shining stars," I repeated from years ago. We would dazzle simply by attending.




We had reservations for one of the most exclusive hotels in Fuchsia. It was a style I greatly enjoyed, with a base in traditional design but bearing modern details as well. The place was a bit of a resort, offering activities that brought tourists to the customs of old, and I knew Veronica and I would enjoy the incense ceremony lesson. The rickshaw ride through a nearby forest wasn't offered in the winter, though, and that was a bit of a disappointment. However, I knew Asaph had reserved a carriage ride for us from the museum to the hotel after the celebration, and I eagerly awaited the exotic flavour that would give.

Of course, that was a term that varied considerably. Foreigners spoke of modern Kanto as exotic, while I would only apply the term to our much different past. While people here often suffered Lumiose Syndrome, disappointment that modern Kalos didn't live up to their romantic and glamourised expectations. It seemed to be a universal issue, a folly of expectation. I do certainly enjoy the fantasy of these regions, but the truth of everyday was always the same.

I had to rise above the everyday. It was my duty in life as one who could appreciate true beauty, and I burned for it. I would have something that surpassed anyone else.




Leaving Seafoam that day was a wonderful feeling. Liberation swelled in me. I was my own person, out in the world, and even the melancholy of knowing I would have to return didn't interfere.

As I packed my suitcases into the boot of Asaph's car, the snow fell lightly around us. Veronica waited patiently in the back seat, which was unusual. She lived in the outskirts of Viridian, distinctly north of our destination. Igasho would have had to have gone in a loop to retrieve both of us. I felt honoured.

And driving past the town limits, that was the best part.

"I'm so excited," Veronica whispered, smiling at me.

I smiled back. "We should be proud."

"Oh, I am!" She had bolted upright as she exclaimed this, held in place only by the seat belt. "I can't wait! I've been waiting so long for this that it feels like I'm going to burst! I couldn't pay attention in school all week for it!"

On some level, I had forgotten she attended a school. If I had thought about it, I would have known, but my impulse was to think that she learned remotely as I did. And, of course, from our mentor. "Asaph is a wonderful teacher, isn't he?" Damn, I had said it aloud, without the connecting thoughts to mark the path.

She nodded swiftly. "Of course! I would rather have him in my school. He would be far more interesting than anyone I have."

I leaned back and soaked in the softness of the antique seats. The car was a classic, and despite the retrofitting still felt so. It brought to mind a bygone time, steeped in sophistication.

Such an odd thought. Had I been in that age, I would have spent my whole life with knowledge of the wider world. A few generations prior as well. But there would be those around who remembered when the world opened to them, when the self-imposed isolation was pried wide like a treasure chest. They would have known those days of turmoil and resistance, an age of both enlightenment and upheaval, and I pondered what someone like Asaph would have thought. He wouldn't, using my age as a baseline, have experienced it firsthand, but he would have known far more of the shifting mindset than me. What a fascinating time it must have been! I wondered what would be thought of my era that far into the future, and even then, part of me hoped I would be thought of in that distant day.

I would have spoken my thoughts to Veronica, but she had since nodded off. Perhaps her burst of energy had expended more from her than she had let on.




Arrival at Asaph's mansion, though a typical thing, was refreshing and eager just the same. I barely noticed the cold or ice, and nearly tripped coming out of the car. "Well, that won't do," I murmured.

Behind me, Veronica laughed.

"Good morning."

She stretched a bit. "Thanks. Mm, it'll be nice to take a vacation. Poor Asaph though! He'll be running himself ragged until the party starts!"

Igasho chuckled. "He's done it before. Everything turns out."

"I think," I told Veronica, "that you and I should visit the hotel spa while he's involved elsewhere."

"Ooh, that does sound delightful. I've heard it's very traditional!"

Taking short marching steps so as not to slip, we slowly made our way inside. Her coat, a long brown style made of neatly trimmed Piloswine fur, was coated in powered snow, giving it a right natural look. Compared to my own felt coat, it was far more stylish. I didn't want to be plain. I wanted to be as exotic as my collection would. And I couldn't wait, with the comparison in my mind, to get that thing hung up and away from me.

Fleeting thoughts like that, little aspirations and doubts and dreams, often flapped their way through my mind. It's funny to think of in hindsight, how many things that meant so much to me at a time would quickly fly on, and how many things that I thought of as meaningless would come to roost.

Though I suppose that's part of life, isn't it? We can never tell where a thought will lead, or what turns out to be a part of something bigger.

At the time, I couldn't have known where any of my flights of fancy would go, or how very soon they would impact me.



It took a few hours for Asaph to greet us, so Veronica and I split up. When I heard his voice, he was speaking to her in the sitting room. They were laughing about something, and I started laughing too, even though I was still across the hall in the gallery. The manners of that action escaped me, but I was alone, so I didn't stifle it.

After a moment, however, I joined them. Asaph hung back in the doorway while Veronica was on the couch under the windows, looking like a stylized holiday postcard with the snow behind her. "I heard something funny," I greeted. "Might I hear it?"

"Ah, Jirarudan." Asaph was smiling, but it thinned when he turned towards me. "You look well. Excited for tonight?"

"Of course!" I hoped my expression beamed with joy. "Are we going to go soon?"

"Absolutely!"

Veronica got up off the couch then. "I'm ready when everyone else is."

"Then let's go!" He gestured to the mid-sized craft on the landing pad near the driveway. "I was about to go find you anyway. I'll alert the staff to transfer your bags!"

Asaph was in rare form, as hyperactive as a child, and I wondered what he must have been like at that age.

It was only after we had boarded the ship and taken off that I realised that I had never heard what they were laughing about.




Again we docked outside the city limits, where a rental car awaited, a special one, far more vintage than most. It reminded me a bit of Asaph's own car, but without the modern touches. It was even bereft of seat belts, something Veronica brought to attention as she noted that her dress wouldn't be wrinkled later on.

Asaph smiled to himself as he drew out his driving gloves, a classic touch. "I'm dropping you two off at the hotel. You'll be shown the room, and I'll join you later. Are you ready?"

"Ready!" Veronica cheered, tossing her arms in the air in a celebratory motion.

"Ready!" I tried to match her tone but remained more physically subdued.

The ride was an easy one, despite the weather and age of the car. Fuschia was a relatively small city compared to others in our travels, but was a sight to behold nonetheless, with frequent pink flowers peeking out from the snow drifts like glimpses of tiny fairies. Beside me, Veronica tugged at her coat as though she was already in the snow.

The hotel was nestled in a small forest on the other side of town, one where the trees gave the illusion of bowing. Be it from the weight of the snow or a simple trick of the eye, it was impressive nonetheless.

Within, the lobby was deceptively simple, looking superficially like so many others, but with a well-manicured history to it that would be difficult to replicate elsewhere. I marveled at a scroll tucked to the corner, the earliest known image of the hotel that dated back centuries. The scroll itself was a reproduction, but I knew the owners possessed the original, and knowing I was so close to something like that was wonderful itself.

A porter led us to our room, and while we set up, Veronica idled with the view. The forest was all around us, and the snow lent a mystical sense to it. I thought of fairy tales, local and foreign, and how so many people had enjoyed the same view through the ages.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Look!" A small colony of Nidoran ruffled through the snowbank, occasionally nibbling at something in the underbrush. "They're probably aware of us, so that's nice."

Asaph looked out over them. "They're still wild, but they recognize that we aren't a threat." As if to support this, one of them, a male, looked directly at him. "Ah, you see?"

Veronica waved at it. "Hello, little boy! They're all so cute!"

"Did you bring Ralts with you?" I asked.

"Always! Her pokéball is in my purse." She twirled around. "I can bring you out if you want."

Asaph cleared his throat. "I've got to get going. Last minute touches, you know. I'll see you this evening."

"All right. I look forward to it."

He smiled somewhat. "I've booked you both a full afternoon, so you'd best get ready. You're due in the spa in an hour."

"Ooh!" Veronica set her purse aside, having not gotten Ralts after all. "Jiri, this will be fun. I've heard they do wonderful things with bamboo charcoal, and they have a proprietary tea as well."

"I look forward to it."

There was something I couldn't quite put my finger on about the clothes she pulled out of her suitcase. I had the image of a Hollywood star for some reason. "Is that your dress for tonight?"

"Yeah!" Now she unfurled it, holding it up to herself. A very unusual garment, the dress was of metallic fabric, but not nearly as overwhelmingly shiny as others of the same material. It was drawn slightly to one side, the lines meeting at a bow styled like a fukura suzume knot of the same pink and gold as the rest. "Do you like it? I got it just for the part!"

"It's very modern." I wasn't quite sure what to think of it.

"Aww, you don't like it, do you?" Before I could answer, she laughed. "It's ok. My mom designed this and wants me to wear it around, and I know a lot of people will like it. I love it!" She twirled around, hugging the dress to her chest. "It's going to look wonderful in the midst of everything tonight!"

"Truth be told, I'm a bit envious. Men's formal wear is so dull in comparison." My own suit was an uncomfortable affair, with a snapped bow tie and silver cufflinks that so many others would have. I was to stand out with my personality and engagements, but I wanted to wear something more 'me', whatever that would be.

"Maybe my mom can do something about that," she laughed. "But right now we have an appointment!"




The afternoon had been geared towards relaxation and yet it seemed to fly past as swiftly as a Pidgeot. Veronica's rush to head to the spa was more of a symptom than a cause, but I had felt rushed ever since.

It would all be worth it, though. We both knew that.

The low evening light danced off her dress as we waited for the car. Asaph had hired a driver this time, to return the car to the lot so we could take the carriage back. I shifted my weight from foot to foot while I looked out the lobby window, trying to do so subtly though I knew I shouldn't. It made me look impatient, Asaph had said.

He glanced down at his watch, an antique hand-wound one whose face bore the image of a sea chart. "When we get there, we'll be a few minutes into the event. Check your coats and put the tickets somewhere safe. Veronica, for you that will be your handbag, and Jirarudan, your jacket. I'm counting on the both of you to be on your best." Not simply 'best behavior', but overall 'best'.

"Yes sir!" I jolted with a salute that I hoped came off as playful.

Asaph chuckled. "Yes, yes...I suppose I've got a lot to plan even now."

"Well," Veronica added in his tone, "I suppose that there's a lot to think of."

That merited a full laugh, but a brief one. "Far more than most people know. Even other collectors don't have this degree of involvement."

Knowing Asaph, he insisted on it. No wonder that most didn't, considering the degree of stress he was under. But it was worth it to him to be that exacting if the end product was perfect.

The car drove up and the doorman made way for us, the automatic nature of it exuding professionalism, and I wanted to have something like that be my everyday.

As we settled in the car, Asaph whispered "Let's go!" with a sharp smile.




The museum's face bore giant banners trumpeting the new exhibit, though it wouldn't open to the public for another week or so. They could bear witness to whatever was visible in the lobby, but the rest would remain beyond their reach for the time being.

The lobby had a few people spread about, conversing in small groups, with most attendees in the exhibition space already. Veronica and I set our things with the coat check and already Asaph had engaged with one of those groups. After a moment, he gestured to us, and we followed him over.

"I've been mentoring these two for the past few years," he said with a smile. "Don't be surprised if you see them hosted at an event like this soon enough."

One of his companions, a middle aged woman with a long pearl necklace dripping down to her waist, looked at me, then at Veronica. "Always good to see children taking an interest in art."

A jacketed man to her side nodded. "I feel like we'll be in good hands if you're teaching them, Asaph."

"Oh well, it's on them, really. They're excellent students. Introduce yourselves!"

For a second I wondered if I should bow or shake their hands, but after a glimpse at their western-style outfits, I decided on a handshake. "Jirarudan. Pleased to meet you."

"And I'm Veronica. A pleasure." She bowed first, then offered her hand, a mirror of her multicultual outfit.

"Oh how precious," the woman cooed. "I'm Atsuko, and this is my husband Etsuya."

"They're not only collectors," Asaph told us, "they're also artists, both represented here today!"

Etsuya chuckled. "That we are. I was hoping it would be one of our collaborations, but alas. At least keep in mind that it was the decision of the collectors and not us." I got the idea that he was a bit embarassed, though I would have though it would be far more of an honour to be represented like that.

Veronica asked which pieces were theres, and Atsuko was more than happy to show her. After a short conversation more, Etsuya left to speak with other new arrivals, and I was with Asaph again. He didn't look at me, surveying the room, but it was clear that his question was for me. "Are you well?"

"Ah, I am. Are you?"

"I will be." His voice had returned to its normal pace, but the event still called for his attention to be pulled every which way.

Before I could reply, though, he set off to greet more new arrivals.



As the afternoon rolled into evening, the action had moved to the galleries. While the rest of the museum hadn't been closed off, nobody left the main area, so captivated they were with the others around. And that was what they were doing, after all. They were there to be seen and to see others, and to judge their collections. Physically, they would see the art, but they wouldn't truly witness it, not as it deserved. That could be done later; now was for flaunting.

I'd had pleasant conversations with others, and learned quite a bit about the local landscape, by the time I ran into Veronica again. She was chatting with another person, a foreigner this time, and waved me over to him. "This is the young man I mentioned."

He smiled and held his hand out. "Hello there, Jirarudan." He had paused briefly before saying my name, likely trying to remember it. "Veronica has said much about you."

I greeted him in return. "Oh dear," I sighed, hoping my slight smile was sufficient. "A pleasure to meet you. What brings you here?"

"An excellent question! You see, this!" Here he spread his arm out towards the painting on the wall, "is my creation!" It was of a sleeping Snorlax, but with a freeform style that put emphasis on the idea of slumber rather than likeness.

I nodded. "Very nice. I seem to have missed your name, however."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Craig; nice to meet you." But instead of speaking to either of us, he seemed set in showing off his masterpiece. "I never thought that I would be able to get into a museum like this. I've been in galleries before, but this is my first museum! And in Kanto no less! I love the culture here, and it's so beautiful!"

Veronica giggled. "We like it. Jirarudan, I was telling him that you're another student of Asaph's, and some of your areas of expertise."

"Is that so?"

He gazed around the room before nodding rapidly. "Are either you artists as well, or just collectors? Ugh, I mean...not to belittle collecting. Are you ONLY...no, that's not right either. Is collecting your sole field?"

I'd understood from the beginning, and so did she. It was unusual seeing someone fumble with politeness like that, but I'd had to study to no end for it. Had I come off like this when I first started? I hoped not. "I've drawn before, but I prefer to see the world through the eyes of others when it comes to art. I see the world through my own eyes all the time, after all."

"Wow," Veronica said plainly, "that's a nice way of putting it. I've done a bit of sculpting and photography in school, but nothing serious. It's fun working in the darkroom though, but if I was to pursue it, it would just be a hobby."

For a moment I imagined what it must be like in that scenario, with her high manner versus the foul chemicals needed for developing. I wondered if it bothered her.

"That's good! Any appreciation at all is good," Craig enthused, "especially when it comes to fresh eyes. The art world, museums and galleries and stuff, used to have such a bad reputation for being all hoity-toity, so it does my heart good to see younger people passing all of that by. I mean, it's competitive, but where I'm from in the Chikkawa region, it used to be that you'd barely get noticed if you fell outside certain social classes, no matter how good your art was."

"A common issue around the world," noted Veronica. "Peasants rarely stood a chance at recognition not long ago, though those that were were lauded the same as anybody. It was..." she struggled with a word there but settled on "odd".

Craig laughed. "So, what do you think?" He turned back towards his painting and again gestured broadly at it. "I tried to make it nice and vibrant."

I took another look at the work, taking in more detail this time. The bushes nearby bent and folded, giving the impression of nearby pokémon though they were barely seen, only in dashes of colour. The sky bent over the sleeping giant, emphasizing its round form in a way a more realistic depiction wouldn't have, and the colours of purple and blue brought out a feeling of dusk while not compromising view.

"It feels like it's inviting us to nap alongside it," Veronica laughed. "It's nice! Relaxing."

I had something a bit more verbose planned but when she spoke, I simply agreed. "I like how it brings to mind the tiredness of night through colour alone. And how it's the only figure in the painting but it clearly isn't alone either."

He pumped his fist at his side. "Yes! I'm so glad more people notice that! They think it's the only figure there, but there's a Pidove up in that tree, there's a Patrat in the bushes...did you notice the Munna over there too?" He gestured at a corner with a faint feel of pink. I had to remember what a Munna looked like, as I'd only seen them in pictures.

"I see it! It's in the flowers so it blends in, and it gives the feeling of the flowers swaying in the wind since we can't see it clearly." Veronica had leaned in to see it closer.

Craig smiled broadly. "I've got to mingle with more people, but let me give you two some advice. From one art world citizen to another..." He leaned towards us, so we followed suit. "...don't be afraid. Do what your heart tells you. It'll lead you to great things."

Asaph's words, shining stars, chimed in my head. They were always there, but it was different to hear some external force ringing that clarion call.



An hour or so more passed before I became aware of time passing at all. Everything was so magical that even the crowd and its din didn't bother me.

But with the awareness of time came the realisation that the event would end, and a sudden panic grabbed me. While it would be several more hours indeed, that it would end at all was something terrifying. I wanted to remain there, to live in that environment with this new beauty around me, something I'd never seen before around every turn. And the compliments certainly didn't hurt. It seemed everyone wanted to meet me, and while I'm certain this was due to my age, they expressed that my conversations and insight on the works was impressive.

That didn't help feeling sick, however. I withdrew to a corner by the coat check and busied myself with pamphlets that I didn't really see, just so I wasn't simply staring at the wall or into space. Such behavior couldn't be indulged tonight, not this of all nights, not after everything that had gone into this.

It was foolish of me to still act like that. It was preventing me from enjoying the event that had been so fantastic in all ways, and I had to get over it if I was going to be taken seriously at all. I couldn't have all that good will be for nothing, all those open doors slam shut. I braced my hand against the cold marble wall and put the pamphlet back where it had come from, and turned back to face everything.

What a fool I could be, I mused. Still acting like a child. I wasn't that immature kid who never spoke, who stared at the sky all day. I was to be a collector, a paragon of society, a guardian of history itself. The world's finest things were to be mine and I couldn't be so easily weakened. To be reduced to a trembling mess by the simple reminder that an event would end! It was idiotic, and I shuddered to think that my mother witnessed it. I twisted the ring on my hand in the hopes it would turn her back to me.

"Oh, Jirarudan!" someone called. I didn't know much about her, only that I had briefly spoken with her earlier in the night. "What are you doing over here?"

"Ah, I was getting a bit warm." The coat check was next to the doors, so a quick gesture to the snow outside served as an excuse. "Too cold to go fully outside, you see."

She chuckled. "It does get terribly warm during these events. This time of year it's bearable, but in the summer, it's nearly a test of endurance."

"The things we do for our collections!"

"Exactly!" Her smile told me that she had fallen for my lie, and I felt better. Maybe I would be able to finish the night anyway.

I returned to the crowds with a flutter in my stomach. I could enjoy this paradise, as brief as it would be.




As I entered one of the side rooms, a glint led to a familiar sight. Just as the plans had shown, there was the Eye of Dawn, the entrancing opal that had so bewitched Asaph and Veronica both. It was set off to the side for maximum attention, under the light in the center but not directly so, so the light wouldn't cause a glare. This way, the opal could be seen in full detail, and even the velvet pillow beneath it was chosen to best show off that quality. Asaph stood beside it, smiling as he spoke with a group about his treasure. He nodded at me but didn't call me over, simply acknowledging that I was there.

I took the opportunity to view the gem as it was meant to be, after so many months of preparation to make it perfect. It rested beside other pillars holding jewelry from centuries past. One I recall had a storied history to the present day, having recently been given as an engagement present between movie stars and acquired by the collector after the couple had divorced. Some laughed as they read the description, and I confess it was amusing to me as well.

As I was about to leave the room, Veronica entered, a few people following her. "Oh, Jiri! I was going to show these people my new addition. Want to come too?"

I almost said yes, and then I almost said no. A sudden indecisiveness had come over me and I only blinked in what must have expressed confusion.

"Come on; let's go!" She reached for my wrist and I let her guide me along, the others trailing behind.

Asaph's voice vanished from the din of the room. He had turned towards us as we approached, and took a step back as her companions fanned out.

"Now then, at this present time, Mr. Asaph is the owner of the Eye. I'm set to officially acquire it after the exhibit closes. Asaph, what drew you to the Eye?"

He gasped a bit at Veronica's question. "I would imagine the same as you; the great beauty of the piece. To think that the ancient Alspring civilization carved it so perfectly, something we would struggle to do in the modern day... I imagine the beauty of it set upon the scepter..." He looked away, towards an elegant carving but seemingly past it. "I would have loved to have seen it in its full glory, but...well, we can't always have what we want."

Veronica picked up on his trailed sentence "The scepter was destroyed in a war. The priestess herself tied a smaller opal to it and cast it from a cliff into a fire wall to convince the enemy that the Eye was destroyed. The fire was too great for them to continue their approach, so they gave up their plan of extinguishing it, which allowed her to make her escape with the real Eye."

One of her companions nodded. "Wise of her. It would have cracked in that heat and been unrecognizable."

"Still," another sighed, "it would have been lovely to see the full piece."

Asaph interjected "The Eye is estimated to have been carved over three thousand years ago. Considering the scepter was wood, the one destroyed in the fire was likely one of many. The Eye has always been the important part, the sacred one..."

Veronica nodded. "The Eye is the constant, no matter what it was carried on or who possessed it."

This seemed to be getting personal. I backed out as subtly as I could. Still, as I walked I mused on the history there. Who knew what treasures were lost to time from such an ancient civilisation, ten thousand years of the oldest continuous history in all humanity? There was much to be told there, but time marched on. It remained a vibrant culture, several of them in fact, forever reshaping what it found important.

Even the Eye, once considered sacred, was presently regarded as a marvel of human hands, but no longer a symbol of the divine. What of our present era was once divine? What could be elevated to divine status in the future? And how much truly was a mark of the Gods? Could they bestow divine status onto anything they pleased? Could they revoke it? It was fun to think of what could entail that, leaving me in a sort of dreamlike state.

I was lost in thought when a nearby conversation drew me out of it. I supposed I should be using my opportunities when they were available, so I joined in.




I saw Veronica again near the end of the party, still chatting with her gathering. "Oh!" She came up to me with a skip in her step. "Can you tell Asaph that I'll be heading back later? I've been invited out."

"All right." The last I had seen, they were still together near the Eye, but I'd long since left that area.

She smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow! Have a great night!" As she turned on her heel, she blew a kiss in my direction, and I wasn't sure what to make of that.

Finding Asaph wasn't nearly as easy. Even though the guests were thinning out, plenty still milled about, and made it just difficult enough to find any specific person. It took what was likely about five minutes to locate him in the foyer, nursing a glass of wine. I wanted to impress him, so I approached him with something I had learned earlier. "That wine is special. It's from here in Kanto, the only vinyard in the region."

He stared off, and I wasn't sure he'd heard me.

"Asaph?"

"Mm..." He sighed and took a sip. "It's about time to go. Where's Veronica?"

"Ah yes, she said to tell you that she's been invited out and she'll see us tomorrow. Or rather, she said she'd see me tomorrow, so I assume she means you as well."

Another sip. "...I'm not surprised. She's growing up so fast. Soon she'll be gone..."

Well of course she would. We were being trained for that very purpose, weren't we? To be art collectors, to travel the world, so of course we were going to go away.

"But you're still here. Jirarudan, come here." Instead of waiting for me to move, he took a step closer and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "I'll call for our ride then."





We waited in mostly silence for the carriage, Asaph only stepping away from me to retrieve our coats and discard his empty cup. Otherwise he stood beside me with his hand on my shoulder. The exhibit had exhausted both of us and I loved the quiet that came in the afterglow, akin to those blissful moments after a wonderful dream.

It was easy to see the carriage approach even from inside, as it was pulled by Rapidash, their flames brilliant against the nighttime snow and the white of their coats giving them a nearly otherworldly glow. Without a word, Asaph took my hand and led me out the door, not looking back.

While the flames from the Rapidash helped to offset the frigid cold, I still nudged closer to Asaph once we had taken our seats, and he again slid his arm around me. "Jirarudan..." he muttered, "don't go anywhere."

An odd thing to say in a moving vehicle. I shook my head against him. "I won't."

I could hear that he was whispering something, but whatever it was got lost in the wind. His other hand came under my chin to tilt my head up, and soon his lips were on mine.

I gasped against them, but this is what adults did, wasn't it? And I was an adult, wasn't I? So I let my eyes close and returned the kiss.

"I'm so glad..." he murmured. "So glad..."

"Me too." Even with my stupidity earlier in the evening, hiding from everything as I had, Asaph still saw me as an adult. I was overjoyed! And what Craig had said came back to me, to do what my heart said, and not to be afraid. I bit back my nervousness and initiated another kiss.

I could feel him smile against me.




The coachman's back was to us, leaving this our secret, and once we had reached the hotel, our room wasn't far away.

I'll not share the details, of course! A gentleman doesn't.

He excused himself after, and I settled back under the covers, worn out from a day and night of new experiences.

As I drifted off, I could hear him in the washroom, and I had to be mistaken because it sounded as though he was crying.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

At that point I had gotten used to it. Being an adult was wonderful, my dreams seeming so much closer.

Not that I had any specifics in mind at that point. I knew I wanted an airship, but no specific works came to mind. An image had begun to take place where all the displays would be in the gallery--it had to have a gallery!--and throughout the ship, but I didn't yet know if my vision was even physically possible yet. Even with studying aeronautics, I wasn't sure what could be accomplished.

I wanted to push the boundaries of what was possible. Not simply in an airship, but in my life. I wanted to see the world as differently from everyone else as I could. I wanted to be a true Renaissance man, a marvel of the world, drawing everyone not only to me, but to my collection.

The wind off the ocean whipped around me, bringing a sense of wildness it never had before. I could do what I wanted, with nothing hindering me. At least, I liked to think of it that way. In reality there were many barriers, but I then could see past them to the prizes that awaited my patience and persistence.

"What are you doing out here?" Helen's voice came under the wind like a bird call. "Jirarudan, come inside. It's so cold out." She had appeared behind me with a coat, though I was quite comfortable in what I had picked out.

"Ah, how are you?" I greeted her with the same practiced charm I gave everyone, remembering to toss up a smile.

"Warm. Now if you're going to stay out here, then put this on." She shoved the coat towards me with a chuckle. "A lot on your mind?"

Everything was on my mind, everything to the horizon and past. "Ah, there's only so much time in the day, isn't there? History could scarcely hold it."

She laughed and came to stand beside me, leaning over the rail that lined the cliff outside the factory. "You're so articulate. I wish I had your sense of drama when I was your age." The way the wind tangled in her hair had its own sense of theatrics, though. "So what are you thinking about?"

I draped the coat over my shoulders and pretended it was an extravagant cape. "The world, I suppose. What do you think the art of the future will look like?"

"Whoo..." Her exhale was almost a whistle. "You'd know more about that than I would. It seems like there's always something completely different on the covers of your magazines. So I'm guessing something we can't even imagine right now."

It was a bit disappointing to hear that. Someone who dealt with technology and art as her trade had to have some insight into that. "That's no good." But my thoughts that day were bursting! I asked her about something I'd recently read. "Have you ever thought about the idea that photography is a form of time travel?"

A sudden laugh burst from her. "Well, that was a change of pace. How's that then? Time travel?"

"Preserving a moment just as it was. Though it's limited, of course." I waved an arm to gesture my surroundings. "Anybody could capture this, for instance, this image of what's around us. It's limited to visual, and whatever the photographer saw fit to capture. But it's something the future could see just as we do."

"Mm. What about painting?"

"That's not really the same, is it?" The difference was clear to me, but she likely needed elaboration. "Paintings are, by their nature, stylized. They're beholden to the style and skill of the painter. Same with sculpting, or anything else." My hand wove in circles as I spoke, unintentionally modeling a cycle of time. "Though they're still invaluable to our knowledge of the era, of course, and understanding much of the world. And great beauty, naturally."

"Naturally." She giggled, but it seemed to be a separate thought. "Understanding the world...if only, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

"Aaahh. Greater minds than us have tried. I don't think anyone can really understand the world."

Again, it was more than a little disappointing to hear that from her. "We have to try, though. Otherwise, what's a heaven for?"

"A man's reach should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for...I know that line," she mused, her gaze drawn down to the ocean below, waves flinging themselves desperately at the concrete wall that lined the base. "I read that poem a long time ago but that's all I remember of it. Does that say something about me, do you think?"

I was sure it did, but had no idea what. "Who knows? Maybe one would have to understand the world for that."

She drew closer to me. "Haha...I wish I was a deep thinker like you. It's like you have your own little world and the rest of us are just guests in it. Are Asaph and Veronica the same way?"

At the mention of my mentor, I stood a little straighter. Every good collector had their own world. "How so?"

"Well, do they have the same sort of...broad thinking attitude? I mean just in the past few minutes we've talked about all sorts of stuff, and it all seems really important to you."

That time Veronica had approached me from the bushes and shoved me into an adventure made me think she had her own world for certain, but not of the same variety as mine. And Asaph... "I think Asaph knows what he wants, most of the time. But when he doesn't, then it can upset him."

"Yeah, most people are like that. You sure are."

Was I? I could see the cracks in his calm facade now that I was close enough. Certainly close enough... But he struck me as unusual still. "Am I?"

"Yeah. I hear about you from your father a lot. Stories your mother would tell him. You had trouble explaining things when you were little, and you'd be quiet a lot. She called you a deep thinker."

I took a glance at her. "So that's why you called me that?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "You talk a lot more than I was expecting. I hear you talking to yourself through your door and all that, and Asaph says you're an excellent speaker."

"Oh, does he?"

"And a charmer too. Haha, maybe your father should have The Talk with you." But she mock shuddered when she said it.

I wasn't about to tell her that I had a bit of a head start in that regard, and the idea of such a talk would have repelled me anyway. "Ugh. Though I do read, of course."

She laughed. "I used to read everything I could get my hands on, just like you. Your father did too, he tells me. You end up knowing all sorts of things, don't you? It's a lot of fun. That's how I got into engineering. You never can tell, can you?"

"Had you thought you would take a different path?"

"I'm not sure. I thought I'd be a trainer though, but everyone thinks that. I was for a little while, as you know. Heh..."

"Not me. The whole thing seems utterly pointless to me. Like how children all seem want to be great athletes. It's the fame they want, the recognition and adoration. Frankly," I smirked, "it says something about their lives."

"Hm." She looked away a bit. "If you hadn't met Asaph, I wonder if you'd be so confident in that. Oh!" With a jolt, her back straightened and she turned back towards me, "I didn't mean to be so blunt. It just...I'm sorry."

I had no idea what she was out of sorts about. "Ah...apology accepted then. I suppose if I hadn't met him when I did, I would have met him eventually."

"Yeah but I meant at all."

"Aaah, I see." I turned back towards the ocean view. "Not sure. I probably could have looked into any number of things."

"You still can."

Was she trying to convince me to leave the art world? To leave Asaph? What did she know? I gripped the guide rail tight, and swung against it to cover the gesture, and wanted to tell her that I never wanted to leave but didn't want to tip my hand. "I know."

"I think if I didn't make airships, maybe I'd be a pilot. Or maybe I'd make something else, like cars or boats." She paused. "I could do anything really. Not everyone can really say that, and you're certainly one of those people that can."

"I'll need a pilot's license." Somehow it came out before I could say anything else, and she cocked her head at me. "For my airship."

"Haha, that's a nice thing to work towards. It'll probably be good for you to have a license anyway."

It seemed as though she didn't believe me that I would have one. I'd already planned to ask Asaph about funding a ship, but as I said, I didn't yet know what I wanted, only that I would have it. I was absolutely certain I could pay him back for it, regardless of how expensive it was to be.

Things like cost didn't seem to matter too much. They would work out. They always did.

After another reminder to stay warm, Helen went back inside, leaving me to my thoughts in blissful isolation.




In the next few days, a storm set in, a late winter blast, and Seafoam frothed at the edges with grey and chill, sending me huddled inside for the duration. Being able to languish inside had its appeal, with a sort of melancholia to it that brought to mind the air of a romantic poet. Briefly I considered perhaps sending away for a poet-style shirt until I recalled it was popular among several modern musicians, and I didn't want my motivations to be mistaken.

It wasn't as though I was especially against that music. Most of it was toss, of course, but hearing electronic sounds blended to be tonally pleasing was fascinating, and I wondered what historical musicians would have done the same. Surely there would have been some, and it was amusing to think of what their best known pieces would have sounded like with that technology.

Why, I wondered, had everything turned out the way it did? Did something control the flow of time, the advancement of culture, or was that entirely our doing? Did things /have/ to turn out how they did? All questions with no answers, or at least none that had been found.

Though I never really considered free will to be an issue, it would be fascinating if there was some force out there that willed me into being a collector. Someday I could meet it, perhaps. The Articuno that Veronica and I had discussed had been spotted at the beginning of the storm, and it was said that we were experiencing its wrath, though the reports said it was seen simply flying, with nothing that would indicate it was angered by anything.

Maybe if I looked for long enough, I would see it, I figured, but I never saw anything of the sort. I could barely see the ocean from my window during the depths of the storm, even though I overlooked it from the clifftop. I could barely see the frame of the house, holding it in place against the threat of erosion as the waves flung themselves against the rocks below. A branch of the frame girded itself just below my window, and I wasn't sure if it was there as a security measure, as it seemed wide enough to walk on. If the thought of the crashing ocean below didn't terrify me, I might have tried it in better weather.

I remember the radio was playing as I came downstairs, even though no one else was there. My father and Helen were in the factory, and though it would have been much warmer in there, I'd have had to bundle up to get there, and the effort seemed unworthy for the payoff.

The sound drew me to my father's workspace, his desk with papers covering every space including the computer keyboard. Even a few adhesive notes were affixed to the screen, and I could see he was still working on the vaunted "H class" airship, the one of his fantasies. In profile, it looked absurd, the ball shape of the main body being held aloft by a ring of propellers.

But scrap paper scattered hither and to showed multiple equations, and it was easy to see that he was working though the physics of such a craft. Oddly enough, from what I understood of it, he had somehow managed to make it work. Though a mix of gravity dampeners and extremely powerful motors, this beast would not only fly, but function as a normal airship.

And suddenly I wanted one. I felt as though the ship itself was gripping my very heart. I had to possess this, same as any other treasure. Who would have supposed I would feel that way about something my foolish father designed?

It would be more than anything I had ever set eyes on, but with a few adjustments it could be a suitable home to every treasure I could ever want. It was already a marvel of modern science, but how could it be made into a marvel of art as well?

It was so very close, so incredibly close that I felt dizzy, and I took refuge in the desk chair, leaning back while being careful not to swivel around. "Aaaah!" I exclaimed, somewhere between a shout and a sigh, not sure if it was satisfaction at being suddenly so close to a goal or frustration at still being so far from it.

"You OK?" Helen had come in when I wasn't looking, and from the looks of the notebooks in her hands it was likely to gather some of his notes.

I scrambled up and shoved the chair back in place but forgot to answer.

She smiled. "Hey, is that the H-class? It's such a weird looking thing but he says it can work."

With a glance at the maths behind it, I confirmed "as far as I can see, it can. I didn't think it was possible."

"Yeah, I think he hired some people to run the numbers, but he doesn't really tell me much about this project. I think he wants it to be at least in the testing phase first." She picked up a stray paper and looked it front and back. "You guys really have a lot in common. And if you can keep up with the physics, maybe you could work on this together! Have a bonding activity."

I think I withdrew a bit at the suggestion.

"Hey, it could be fun! I don't know if there's any sort of legal thing we'd have to work with to have an eleven year old on board, but as long as you're not doing any of the physical factory work, it should be fine. Kids build model ships with their parents all the time, right?"

"I'd rather not." I remember that my voice was unusually firm, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Come on, it'd be fun! You can ask him after he gets in. I just popped in to get some things." She picked up a can that was obscured by her hold on the notebook. "Like hot chooooocolate! Haha, there's only so much coffee someone can drink." Of course, what passed for either coffee or her vaunted hot chocolate in the factory was a thin shadow of the real thing. "You want me to make you some before I head back?"

"No thank you." I was glad she had changed the subject, however brief a diversion it was. Asasph had cautioned me many a time to be mindful of who I spent my time with, and while I still trusted her, it was an iffy subject with him.

"Suit yourself. There's some marshmallows in the office so I'll bring some in for you for later."

"I'd rather not." I hadn't meant to repeat myself but it was coming from a different place now, so I elaborated, "I don't much care for them."

"Really? I gotcha. Not much of a sweet tooth, huh?"

"No, I just don't like those. They're not even real marshmallows, which are made with the plant called the marsh mallow."

She raised an eyebrow. "Huh! Learn something new every day. I don't think I've ever seen those but if I can find some, would you want any?"

They were excellent and I had enjoyed them when I did have them, but to have that over the same dull sort of artificial hot chocolate was a dreadful thought, and to expect better quality in both was a step too big for that house. "That's all right, but thank you."

A smile. "So polite." After a beat, she continued on, adding "See you later! Keep warm!" from the next room.





The phone connection was staticky and uncertain but I had to call Asaph regardless, the long cord just enough to permit me to curl up under a big blanket on the couch. In a rush I had explained to him my reaction to the design, like some religious revelation.

He chuckled, a bit of a blistered sound from the uneven audio. "It sounds like you've fallen in love."

"I may just have." It was a bit simpler than discussing any of the more complex feelings I had towards, say, him. Best to save that for later. "It's some of the most intense emotion I've ever experienced." For a moment, I thought back to my reaction to losing my mother, how deeply mired in nothingness I had felt, but even that was more of a hollowness than a true emotion. What an uncomfortable thought, to suddenly conflate the two. "Is that strange?"

"No no, my boy, just the opposite. We collectors live by our passions, Jiri." I could hear him move around as he spoke, shoes clacking on the marble floor. He had likely taken the call on his mobile, quite a luxury in the day. "Every day, that's what we do. You've already been doing it handily." He stopped for a second before resuming his path. "You and I, people like us, we live more deeply than most. You've already surpassed what levels of emotional depth most people ever feel, so it makes sense that you would feel this so intensely."

I pursed my lips, noting to myself that he didn't mention Veronica. Perhaps it was just that he was only talking to me. "So, my baseline is higher already? That makes sense." A passionate life would mean that we had to pursue our dreams or fall into despair. "Asaph, I wanted to ask you something."

He stopped again, leaving me to imagine what he may have been doing. I had pictured him walking in circles on the first floor, between the gallery and the sitting room, so I wondered where he was now. "Y-yes?"

"Ah, sorry, the connection must have faultered for a moment. Regardless, I must talk about money and I know that's a bit rude."

"Haha, no, go ahead." After a beat, that click started again.

"Well, as you know, my present fortune is considerable, and growing all the time. But I also doubt that it would be enough to cover the cost of the H-class. Also I can't risk him learning of, well, just about anything."

"Yes, that would be...we have to keep our secrets, don't we?"

"Quite. So, I'd like to set up some payment system with you where you purchase the ship up front and I repay you for it."

He slowed a bit but didn't stop. "First off, Jiri, there's a lesson you must learn. You must be certain this is what you want. Collectors far too often work on impulse, and you have to think things through."

Was this about Veronica? Or was he going to say this regardless? "Of course."

"You have to be certain this is really love, or a mere passing infatuation. You can't act rashly or you'll do something you'll regret."

"Mm-hmm..." He couldn't be talking about--

"You can't trade this away if you get tired of it. A custom ship will be for your tastes, and of course a second-hand craft will never get your your return investment back."

Ah, so not then. "I know. Do you want me to sleep on it?"

"I want you to take a week to think about it, and do think about it. It's a weighty decision, and you're also asking me to aid you in it, so you can't just think about yourself here. I'll be glad to do it if you're certain, but you have to be absolutely free of doubt."

I pulled the blanket up a bit tighter. "I've got to have the resolve of Queen Marlene."

Another pause of the clicking. "Ah, of course, from the classic novel. I really should get around to reading that one of these days. You really do take in information like a proper sponge, you know?"

"It's only been four hundred years since it was written. What's another one?" I was certain to laugh as I said it.

He chuckled back. "Ah, I'm ever fond of your sense of humor. I'm certain the author would appreciate your support. Regardless, however, we don't even know if your father intends to go through with his design."

"He'd be a fool not to!"

"Well, remember, even studying a potential design is a financial endeavor. You know better than I do the work that goes into things like that."

"I guess..." The den was lined with books on aeronautics and physics and the history of air travel, books I eagerly gobbled up myself as I dreamed of the art of flight. Frankly it was amazing it had taken me so long to desire such a divine chariot as this. Perhaps it was how close the subject of airships was to my father; I wasn't sure.

"If he's going to put effort into this model, it's going to cost him quite a pretty p, so to speak."

"All the better to make it worth his while then, isn't it? To show the demand?"

"Haha, I suppose so. I can approach the subject with him soon. I need to have my ship in anyway. The heating system is acting up a bit, nothing immediately serious but it would be dreadfully hot in the summer."

"Mm-hmm."

"That should be in about a month so I'll talk to him then. If you still desire this ship, of course."

"Of course," I repeated, somehow in the same tone and cadence as him. "Asaph...I'm utterly grateful for everything you've done for me." I was aware I was gripping the blanket with a tight fist. "For taking me seriously as an adult, for teaching me so much..."

"Ah--Jiri, I should be going. Um...you're welcome..."

I felt like the line was unsteady again. "Oh, sorry. I'll see you soon then."

But the line was dead. Maybe we had been cut off, but I doubted it.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

"Just go, it'll be fine. Have fun!" My father was engaged in his studies, having received a shipment of float stones from Unova, and had been insisting that I would only be bored while he and Helen were at work.

Several months had passed, and the Fuschia exhibit had ended, leaving the Eye of Dawn in Veronica's ownership. She had invited me to her home to see it, and I was eager to do so. And Asaph had invited me for the following day. I hadn't seen him in person since the exhibit, though we had spoken several times. When he had come for repairs to his ship, it was a day I had been out, and I suspected that he had done so intentionally.

He wouldn't be joining us for the handover. The shipment was to go directly from Fuschia to her, and we both thought he may wish to never see the gem again. My presence with him was something she and I had discussed in the runup to my visit, and I expected it to come up again before I left.

Though of course, I had never told her about what had happened that night. That was to remain between him and me.

He had yet to ask me for my answer about the ship, but I suspect that had more to do with my father's further work on the prototype. He was likely waiting for more information, and I planned to speak with him on the subject during my visit. I was looking forward to it, as my desire for an airship hadn't changed.

For the ride up, I had a portable cassette player and a few tapes of suites I had recently fallen for. In that day, it was quite a trendy purchase, and I took care to select headphones that were suitable with my typical hairstyle. It wouldn't do to reach any destination looking a shambles, but I also refused to be bored, and the endless farmland between Seafoam and Viridian was tiresome.

Even though the plan was for one night at each location, I packed for three nights just in case. I suppose I expected Asaph to ask me to remain longer, thinking of his strange behavior before the exhibit, but that was months ago.




Lost in the music, I had to keep focus to ensure that I didn't miss my stop at the depot in south Viridian. I'd been able to listen to my cassettes keenly and without interruption, so I was in a good mood. Even the familiar landscape was kept aloft with imagining a Lugia flying overhead.

I remembered that Veronica's father Franklin was an overbearing man, so I intended to keep my distance as best I could, but he was already waiting as I got off the bus. "Jiri, over here!" he boomed from across the lot and approached with a long stride. "Come here, let me get your bag."

"If you insist." I handed him the lead to my rolling suitcase, but he picked it up by the handle instead. "How are you today, sir?"

He laughed. "No, I'm just 'sir' at work, and this is a long weekend. Let's enjoy ourselves!"

I suppose the intent was for me to find that reassuring, but it made me think of something my father would say. "Then, how are you today?"

"Good. Had a long day at the office but now we're here. Tierney should still be at work when we get there, so don't bother her." I remembered that she was a fashion designer, and the fact that she hosted a runway show at the house likely should have told me that the home doubled as her office, but I wasn't sure I had put those together before.

"Well, it's always good to be able to do what you like." I was trying to say it to his statement about himself.

"Haha, it's a true joy of life, isn't it?" With the suitcase in the boot of the car, he patted me on the back, thankfully much lighter than I would have predicted. "Did you see how I opened that?"

"Opened what?" I had been a bit distracted.

"Here, watch this." He flashed an unusual keychain in his hand before pressing a button on it. There was a click from inside the car, and the lock lifted. "See that? It unlocks the car without a key. It's the latest technology, all the way from Kalos."

I nodded, having heard about it but not seen it in person. "It's nice. Seems like it would come in handy."

"Haha, of course. Haven't a clue how it works, but you're Corbin's kid so you must know all about this stuff."

Unsurprising. It was a symbol to him, removed from any sort of fascination or interest, and that was always disappointing to encounter. "I've read about it."

"So you'll be staying in the guest room. It's just down the hall from Veronica's room, and you've got your own terrace with it. Need anything, you can pick up the phone and the staff can get you whatever."

"Naturally." I leaned back in the passenger seat, and it was a far cry from the rubbery seat in my father's vehicle or even the old and tailored upholstery in Asaph's retrofitted car. This was quite modern all around, and quite delightful. "I hope you don't think it rude that I've never invited Veronica over. My father's house doesn't have the room for overnight guests. Otherwise I certainly would have by now."

Again he laughed. "That's fine. At least here we can keep an eye on you, haha!" He was smiling broadly, but I didn't understand. "Do you want the radio on?"

I had slid the cassette player and headphones into my suitcase before leaving the bus, so it would have been a guess on his part. "I suppose. I rather like the selection the Viridian classical station has. They play works from around the world."

After starting the car, he tuned the radio to the proper station with the push of a button. "It's got all the channels pre-programmed. This one?"

"Yes, thank you."

"You've got good taste. When I was your age I didn't really think about what I listened to, but you've got a keen mind, don't you?"

"I believe I do. That's what people tell me."

"Well, good on you for hearing them out," he chuckled. "Always good to keep those ears open."

He was reminding me of my own father more and more.



I hadn't gotten a good look at the house when I was there before, but it was a very modern-looking place that made use of many windows that dominated an entire side and put the grounds on display. Two smaller houses lay on the other side of the grounds, and I suspected those were where the house staff lived. That was when I realised that I wasn't certain where Asaph's staff lived, even though I knew it was on site somewhere.

Parking took us in a hidden alcove under the main building, with a gate that closed behind us, and an elevator that took us up to the main atrium. To see it empty of people let me take in the details, foremost of all was that it reminded me of a hotel lobby. It was nearly devoid of anything, open with windows everywhere and seating dotted around. There was even a desk there, with a very new computer atop it and a pile of books next to it, and I figured this had to be Tierney's, even if her office was elsewhere. I could hear her talking, or someone I thought had to be her, so that office had to be nearby.

I set my shoes aside and put on the offered slippers, and it was a bit of an unusual feeling to do so in an area that wasn't against a wall. There was a more typical door, of course, but the elevator was further in, leaving two such areas, and I wondered what the protocol was if I wanted to go outside. Was it proper manners to take my shoes and carry them to the door? What about in different weather? Alas, answers would have to wait, and it was sunny besides.

A bit too sunny, but the windows were tempered and the brightness cut to a more tolerable level. A bit too hot, but it was fully air conditioned inside.

Veronica would be waiting in her room, where the Eye would be displayed. Franklin had told me that the delivery had already come, and had described the technology that let him check from his office. I gave him a thankful bow before eagerly heading to her room.

I knocked on her door and waited for a reply, but couldn't tell if the soft sound I heard was what I was looking for. I knocked again.

"I thought I..." She paused. "Come in."

When I entered, the Eye of Dawn was the first thing I saw, the light streaming through it filling the otherwise dim room. Her windowshades were pulled down to its level, ensuring that the sunlight would focus more into the gem, sending a rainbow to every corner. Only then did I see Veronica, sitting on her bed across from it, closer to the door but nearly blending in with the rest of the kaleidoscope. "Am I interrupting?" I asked with a smile.

She looked over at me and her face was shining with that majestic light. "When did you get here?" Her voice was soft. "Please, come in. I need to show you...I need to properly introduce you."

As I went in, I closed the door behind me, leaving it open just a bit. "We've met, but only briefly."

She pulled herself from her bed, standing somewhat unevenly before approaching the gem with reverence. "Jirarudan...This is what I wanted for so long. This is what I had to have the moment I saw it. This...this is the Eye of Dawn." Her voice was trembling, and I thought for a moment that I may have to steady her. It was truly a marvel to see someone so fully overcome by such beauty!

I nodded, then thought about it and bowed in greeting. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

After drawing in a deep breath, she smiled lopsidedly. "I've been waiting so long for this. Jiri...I can't put anything into words."

I rested my hand on her arm. "You're overcome. It's wonderful to see."

Another deep breath. "You really think so?"

"Of course." I looked down at the gem, displayed on the same pedestal and cushion that Asaph had commissioned for it, and thought back to her impassioned reaction that first day. "I hope someday to have the same wild love for something that you do for the Eye. To be so struck by something at first sight, so utterly consumed by something that powerful...it was like watching a miracle."

"You really think so?" She laughed, a little shakily. "I'm sure there's something. The way you talk about Lugia..."

"Yes, but I've yet to see it in person."

"Mm, that's true."

"Although..." I remember smiling at this, "I suppose the closest I've come is that scroll I told you about. The historical one, with the young woman. Sometimes I think about her a lot."

And she laughed. "You had that same silly smile when you told me about her. The daimyo's sister, right?"

"Yes, her."

"Haha, I think you have a crush on her." Her voice was steadier now, even with the lilt to it, and she waggled a finger at me. "That smile says a lot, you know."

"Now..." I tried to gently deflect the finger with my own, forming almost a fencing stance. "I've thought about that and I'm honestly not sure. There's...there's a lot to think about, and it isn't as though I could talk to her about things."

She took a step back, and I noticed her stance was steadier too. "What was she like? What do you like about her?"

I laughed, trying to convey that same sense of uncertainty. "She's fascinating. She was known for being very intelligent, very charming, and very beautiful, and it seems like...almost like she wasn't given the opportunity to be her own person. She was trapped in the political game of the era, effectively a pawn of her family's interests."

"Oh..." Her expression flattened. "That's a shame."

"It really was. She seemed like a brilliant flower on a pricker bush, something ill-suited to her surroundings..." I trailed off, smiling again despite my dour words. "I wish I could have the chance to speak with her, but such is the march of time."

She seemed to brighten again. "Hey...how about you pretend I'm her?"

"Pardon?"

She skipped over to her closet and withdrew a scarf that she tossed around her head in a complex arrangement, something mirroring the upper class hairstyles of the era. "Pretend I'm her. Talk to me as if I was the daimyo's sister."

"Well, I suppose..." It was an odd proposal but it could be fun, and as beautiful as the Eye was, I was grateful that we weren't going to spend all afternoon talking about it. I would have grown far too restless had that been the case. So I bowed deeply, as far as I could, and waited for further instruction.

Veronica had gathered herself on her bed, sitting genteely with her blanket around her to mimic the heavy robes of a court lady. "I thank you for your loyalty, Jirarudan. For freeing me from my binds. In exchange, I will answer anything you ask." Her voice had changed to a more prim and airy diction, something from a period drama.

Remaining where I was, I tried to keep my voice both quiet and firm. But what would I ask her? If she was truly before me, what would I say? Putting aside any notions of time travel or such. But I couldn't keep her waiting. "My lady...are you happy?" Under normal circumstances it would have been far too pointed a question, even if given carte blanche to ask, but this was between us.

I could hear Veronica pull in a breath at the question and a very quiet "um..." before she cleared her throat. "I confess, I think perhaps both yes and no. There are many things in my life that bring happiness. But..." she sighed, "I wish for my freedom, away from the demands of those around me. And you've delivered me from all that...Stand and look at me."

To view someone of her station would have been a great honour indeed, and I averted my gaze until I was fully standing, certain to smile as though receiving a great boon. "Thank you for this."

"No, all my thanks are to you for freeing me. This era you've brought me to"--oh, we were playing it that way--"seems full of wonders. And I understand that I cannot stay, that I'm merely borrowing this body...yes, your friend must be rewarded as well."

"I will be certain to pass along your blessing to her."

"I'm sure you will. Now, show me this modern era, Jirarudan." She slid her legs back out from under herself to stand again, and kept the blanket around herself until the last moment. I had thought she might leave it on considering that her outfit was a late summer special of shorts and a blouse, something ancient nobility never would have been seen in even if it had been available. I didn't know if I should play along and ask her how she liked her modern garments, but I figured I would let Veronica take the lead as to how far she wanted to take the game.

"Gladly. Um...ought I continue to genuflect as befitting your station or should I treat you in accordance with Veronica's station, to protect your identity?" It was best to get a baseline reading.

She pondered this for a moment. "It depends on if anybody else is around, but mind your manners either way." Her expression softened. "I trust you."

In accordance, I bowed again. "Thank you. Now, if you will, what do you wish to explore first?"

"Well..." She looked around, taking in the Eye but instead moving to the bookshelf. "Much has changed since my lifetime...there's so much to consider." She pondered the books for a moment, drawing her finger down one, before turning back towards me with her hands behind her back. "What do people do for fun in this era?"

Of course. Someone fleeing from a life like that would want to relish being able to enjoy herself. "Well, there are many things. Myself, I like to read, listen to music, go to museums and galleries...Oh, would you like to hear the music I brought with me? In this era, we can record music to play later on at our leisure."

This seemed to excite Veronica, and she clapped in delight. "Oh, show me!"

"Of course. This will be just a moment..." I turned to leave but thought better of it. "On second thought, come with me," I offered with an outstretched hand. "This must seem terribly forward, but in this era, this gesture--"

But she took it before waiting for me to finish, tucking her arm with mine and looking at me with wide eyes that I tried to match to my photographs to no avail. The closest I could think of was 'expectant'. "Jirarudan, please lead on."

With a nod, I did, heading to where Franklin had told me the guest room was. My suitcase was waiting for me, parked in front of the dresser, and I slid my arm away from hers to pick it up. "Pardon me. It's just in here. This is quite a curious invention, and the audio quality isn't the best, which I apologise for, but it's really quite entertaining." I drew out the cassette player and headphones. "Now, you'll have to wear this akin to a hat, so I'm afraid it will have to muss your hair and I apologise for that. Would you like me to continue?"

"Yes please. I want to hear this music."

"Very well." I placed the headset on her, taking care to mind her scarf and brush a stray strand of hair away. "The music is performed in a studio with special equipment to save it onto these cassette tapes," I explained as I popped the player open to show it to her, "and these devices I'm setting on you will let you hear the music as it plays. Of course, I could explain further if you want, though I'm not sure of most of the technical details. But the piece that will play is a foreign one, from the distant Garda region, so it's sure to be unlike anything you've ever heard." And with that, I hit play.

Remembering where I had stopped on the tape, at the end of a "dawn suite", I knew the next would be a "day suite", something bolder and more established, without the building from faintness of its predecessor. At what I could hear of the sound of a trumpet, she pulled in a breath, eyes wide but this time it was easy to identify her expression. "I--" she began to say, but stopped and focused on the music, letting her eyes fall shut to take everything in without distraction. "...it's lovely," she murmured, and I mused that she likely couldn't hear herself.

We stood in silence for a bit, only the faint music wafting from the headphones to fill the space between. It would have been impolite for me to sit on the bed, and very forward to invite her to do so.

Eventually she drew herself away from it, lifting the headset as if removing a crown. "Jirarudan...thank you. That was beautiful. I think next, however, I would like to spend time with you." At a flash she grabbed my hand. "Let's have fun together!"

"O-of course!" This didn't seem historically accurate. "I've been thinking perhaps I could show you, um..." I had going to say that I could show her the television, but I had no idea what was on, and that wouldn't be spending time with me regardless. "...through some of those books that Veronica has. They'll show a great deal of things across a variety of subjects."

She looked every which way before replying. "We can certainly begin. I'd like to see what makes you happy."

"Then very well! We'll have to find a table to sit at, but we could bring a few books at a time. I think it will be quite revelatory."

"What does that mean?" It was an odd thing to ask because I knew Veronica was familiar with that word.

I found myself faultering to explain it, though. "Um...quite eye-opening. Enlightening."

With a laugh, she said "You're such a funny boy. Is that how everybody speaks nowadays?"

"Ah, no, it's considered unusual. But I like it. Words are there to serve a purpose, after all, so what's the use in avoiding more complex words?" I shrugged to add emphasis and hoped it didn't come off as too casual.

"All right, so tell me about the books you have in mind."

One in particular came to mind, one Veronica had told me would be of specific interest to me due to a certain image in it. "Well, there's one I'm especially curious about," I told her as I led her back to her room, "that your host told me of. But I'll be sure to tell you about the breadth of knowledge as much as I can."

"I would expect no less."

I gathered some of the primary books from the shelf and turned back towards her. "I'm not certain where the dining room is, or if this house has a study..." I should have asked before getting the books. They were, of course, very heavy, and all in hardcover as well.

"I believe it's this way." She began to lead me back down the hallway, past the guest room, and through the bend in the hall. "Everything seems familiar. I think she's guiding me from inside. But she can wait." And we reached the dining room, where she sat at the head of the table. "Please," she said with a gesture to the seat at her right hand, "I'm eager to be started."

"Of course." I set most of the books between us towards the middle of the table, but drew one aside to open it. "Now then, it should be...ah, of course." An index showed me where to find what I sought. "This picture is of one of my greatest treasures." Fully opening it between us, closer so she could see it, was a photograph of the Ancient Mew card. "The picture isn't of the one I own, but it looks nearly identical." With a closer look I added "actually I can't see any difference between them. Isn't it stunning? Of course, the picture does nothing to capture the real beauty of it, but you get the idea."

She slid the book the rest of the way towards her to take in the image as best she could. "It is. What is this creature on it?"

"That's called Mew. It's believed to be the ancestor of all pokémon, though this has never been proven. Regardless, it's been recorded throughout history, all over the world. Very few cultures have never reported it."

"I must have heard of it at some point then, and merely forgotten. I apologize." She started to read the entry for the card. "So this image was inspired by a carving seen in a faraway land?"

I nodded. "I've never seen the original. I would love to."

"Perhaps we could go there together!" she exclaimed abruptly with a clap of her hands, bringing them together sharply to clasp them in an expression of excitement. "That would be a truly magnificent adventure, wouldn't it? I would have to borrow your friend for longer, but I don't think she would mind."

"Likely not. Perhaps someday, though we would have to trek through a thick jungle for it."

"As I said, it would be a truly magnificent adventure." She drew her finger down the page to demonstrate that she had returned to reading it. "So there are many of these...not too many. And the text is part of a game the expedition played? Did they make more?"

"I assume they scrawled some on paper, but in truth the card mostly has meaning to me because my mother gave it to me. Though it's lovely..."

Her finger stopped midway through a paragraph. "My mother...she'll be long gone by now, won't she..."

I remembered that the real woman's mother had outlived her, and most of her other children. Best not to bring up what became of her family. The bloodline still existed, that much I knew, and had even married into the imperial family, but none of that would assuage the heartache of personal loss. "I think she would be proud to know you saw this distant future. Such a magnificent accomplishment."

"When I return, I will die, won't I?" Her voice wavered. "I want to have as much fun as I can right now. Oh Jirarudan, please tell me more! Please convince me that the future is something worth believing in!"

Thinking on it, I supposed that would have been the case. To know that the future will be safe would be something vital to hold onto, especially for someone who lived her life for others. Someone of her intelligence would have been thinking ahead, and someone of her compassion likely would as well. Though she also had every reason to be selfish as well, as much as her family had used her as a pawn. Even so, it was a surprisingly dramatic path for Veronica to take this adventure on, and I wasn't certain what to do. "My lady, the world is chaotic as always, but there is always something beautiful to take solace in..."

"Like this image?" she asked, trying to stifle a sniffle.

I leaned in with a smile, putting a hand beside my mouth and whispering "you're very good at this," before sitting up again and continuing as normal "Like what it represents, yes. Things like beauty and culture and the utter magnificence that we humans can create. That's what I love in life. That's why I'm a collector. Because I believe in something greater than the daily world."

She sat up straight, just past the point where it looked prim and into slightly uncomfortable. "You'll find something incredible some day. I know you will." Her hands were clasped before her as she stared intensely into my eyes. I wanted to look away but it would be impolite, so instead I looked at the tip of her nose. "Jirarudan, you've certainly much to be proud of in your life. You know what you want and how to achieve it, and that's far more than I could say."

"My lady..." If this was just Veronica herself I would have put my hand over hers, but one daren't touch someone of noble station in that era! "Please know that you can tell me anything."

Were those tears? I could barely see before she turned away, but I was amazed at how much effort she was putting into our game. "I do know that. And I trust you. That alone is something I can only rarely say." She looked back at me, but not nearly as pointedly. "You've been a great boon to me already. But I don't believe what I'm looking for can be found in these books. Come with me."

"Yes." I had to follow her directly, without putting the books away, and I couldn't tell if the house staff was around to do so for me. Leaving them out wasn't a good move, but I had to obey the order.

She led me back to her room where she retrieved another scarf from her closet. "I think it may...yes, I will cover this for now. Keep it safe for her return." She approached the Eye and draped it in the scarf, wrapping it neatly in a delicate swirl before turning back to me. "Now, she whispers at me that she has a singular piece of technology that you will find fascinating. Please, tell me about this." That was when I noticed she was in possession of a video game system, parked neatly on the shelf under her television.

I knew nothing of such things, but if she wanted to play it, that was what we would do. After a moment of trial and error with the television, I was finally met by the title screen of a game I'd overheard discussion of downtown. The goal was fairly simplistic, to navigate a world of hanging platforms to rescue a princess from a wizard, with no real story beyond that from what I could tell. The game itself stated nothing, asking if I wanted one or two players, and it took another moment to find and connect the second controller. Veronica sat on her bed again, so I drew her desk chair closer for me.

Though it seemed only one character was present at a time, and we quickly learned that if the red character failed in his task, a green doppleganger would take his place. It was awkward to handle, but found myself smiling when I discovered a hidden item by jumping in the right spot.

It was peculiar to note that the game seemed to make literary references through the use of mystical mushrooms, and I wondered if a white Lopunny with a pocketwatch would show up at any point, though I think I may have been thinking a bit too much in a straight line. Alice never contended with this many Squirtle, only the one that I could recall, and I found my thoughts drifting and my green-clad character blindsided by yet another one, Veronica taking control again.

She didn't really speak when it was her time to play, and I felt like she was Veronica again during that time. It was something to herself that she didn't fret over, and even temporary setbacks didn't seem to bother her. I looked over at the Eye of Dawn, nestled under the scarf with its shine stifled by the fabric. With the day dimming, I suppose the light level from under the shade would soon make it uncomfortable to sit where we were, but then why not lower the shade entirely? The actions of others continued to be a mystery to me.

During my turns, she would remark on some elements, usually the fantastical nature of technology mirroring the strange magic of the game, and it was a curious thought. To someone of that era, even a virtual tour of the most mundane things would be akin to sorcery, and I wondered what the noblewoman would have thought of the schematics that let Asaph view the Fuschia exhibit's staging. It was all bold lines and vague determinations, requiring much imagination to envision the finished product, but it was striking to think that just ten years ago, such a thing would have been unthinkable. I considered what the future held. What technology would be sorcery to me?

It was a true marvel of the world to even think of the possibilities.

Eventually we could play no more, all our gathered lives spent, but I was somewhat amazed that we had played as long as we had. Though I wasn't sure of the exact time, the sun was much lower in the sky, and scents from the kitchen were finally wafting down the hall.

"Would you like to continue? You seemed engaged."

She set the controller next to her. "No, thank you. Although that was fun." It was in her regular voice so I wondered if she had dropped the persona, until she turned towards me and spoke again, her voice again that of the noblewoman. "Tell me, Jirarudan. I've given you ample opportunity to ask me anything you wish and you've asked me only one question. Why?"

I had asked more than that, but only one of any real importance, to ask if she was happy. "It's the only thing I thought I could ask that had value to it."

She smiled, but also looked away. "Thank you. I don't think there were any who would have asked me that in my time."

That didn't sound necessarily historically accurate, but Veronica was more making things up as she went along. So I just bowed instead of answering in words before turning off the electronics.

"Are you, then, happy as well?"

"Oh, I..." I said at first as a placeholder with nothing of thought behind it. "I would...say so, I believe. But not as happy as I could be. Such is the purpose of a goal in life, I think, to always have something to strive for. Otherwise, what much else is there?"

She giggled, hand to her lips. "You're certainly honest. How do you intend to reach this euphoria you demand?"

"Well, I suppose I take it when I encounter it," I admitted. "It's not something I really think of in specific terms outside of what acquisitions to pursue. I have some long-term goals, but in the--"

"Tell me about those!" It was blurted out a little more insistent than was proper, but I wasn't about to say so.

Again I took my seat in the desk chair, swiveling it to face her. "Keep this to yourself. But I wish for an airship, and I know how to get one."

"An airship!" Her hand fell to her chest. "What a magnificent idea! Is that truly what it is, a ship that flies?"

I smiled. "Absolutely. They come in many luxurious forms, and are a must-have if one intends to travel frequently. And to potentially transport priceless works, of course."

"Like your card and more."

"And so much more. The beauty of the world...Ah, it requires a chariot worthy of its majesty. There's an experimental design right now that I've been following the development of, and I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes."

"Well, 'where it goes' will hopefully be where you wish, yes?"

At that, I had to laugh myself. The idea of the noblewoman being relaxed enough to engage in wordplay was somewhat inspiring. "Oh, absolutely. Or some similar craft if it doesn't work out with this specific one."

"I'd love to ride in something like that. Something so magnificent...you'll have to show me someday." It seemed as though she had forgotten her own rules for a moment, but that was fine.

"I'd love to have you as my first guest." I would have to have guest rooms, even though I knew they would be rarely used.

She seemed as though she was going to say something further when there was a knock at the door. Franklin peered through the gap in the ajar door and made eye contact with her before saying "Dinner is in five minutes. I hope you're hungry!"

"It's been a long day," she told him, and I wondered if she was intending to carry her game through dinner.

"I'm certainly not opposed to the concept," I said, hoping it came off as witty rather than out of touch.

He chuckled "You kids, I swear," before continuing on.

"Well," I directed, "might I accompany you? I'll show you how to make an entrance in the modern era. Although...it would require me to hold your arm. Do I have that permission?" As I said, this would have been remarkably forward and potentially deadly to ask of the real woman, but it was, after all, a game.

She slid off the bed and adjusted the scarves in her hair before answering. "Permission tentatively granted. Show me first."

"It's like this..." I approached with a slow step, feeling a little hesitant for some reason, and turned to be at her side. At that point, Veronica and I were around the same height, making it easy for me to loop her arm in mine. "Is this permissible?"

She looked down at our linked arms for a few beats. "...This is an entrance in the modern era?"

"To enter a room together like this is to draw attention. I wish we had someone to announce our names as we did, but that's a bit outdated, and dinner tonight isn't nearly as extravagant an event as would merit it."

"Do you think it's a bit...intimate?" she whispered.

I shrugged with my free arm. "It could carry that connotation, and I'll stop if you wish to avoid it. But it's also done among friends. And I would like to consider you my friend, if you'd have me."

"...I don't have many friends..." Again she avoided my direction. "...Very well. I would like to do so."

"Excellent." I wasn't sure why I wanted to have this presentation, but it made sense at the time. In a way it confused me even further, because of the possible meanings of the gesture. It wasn't clearing up my thoughts towards the daimyo's sister at all. But Veronica was at the helm, not me.

Out of all the questions I could have asked, I had picked the one that made the most sense. But it hadn't benefitted me at all.

We arrived in the dining room still linked, and I noted that the books had been moved to a spare chair in the corner. I would have to put them away later. Franklin was at the far head of the table, with Tierney at his left hand like some manner of royal code. To his right was, a little shockingly, Ralts, in a high chair meant for babies, and I wondered if the seat had once been Veronica's. It was impossible to tell the age on such a common object.

Tierney had raised an eyebrow at our entrance, leaning back to face us, but gestured that I was to sit next to her, and Veronica took her place at her father's immediate right, Ralts at her other side. Where it had been during our game was anybody's guess. "So, Jiri, dear, I trust you're not going to go running off to the city."

"P-pardon?" It was more than a bit startling to hear something like that before I could even fully take my seat.

"When you were here for the fashion show. But that was a long time ago, wasn't it, dear?" She laughed, adjusting her slightly-too-wide half rim glasses that had been dislodged by the action. "By the way, the model you wore never made it to market, but Veronica's rugged look was a big hit. Though she's of course told you that, right?"

Veronica had been toying with Ralts, cooing over it, but stopped at the mention of her name. "I was simply wearing it. There was no need for me to take your glory." But it was the noblewoman's voice. We were going to continue the game through dinner, and in front of her parents. I wondered what Ralts would think of it.

Before anyone could remark on Veronica's unusual tone, though, one of the house staff emerged from the kitchen and set a plate before Franklin, with what looked to be fish over greens with toast. It was an unusual combination but something I felt had to be interesting, if nothing else.

"Poached Basculin over frisée," she told us as she set an identical plate in front of Tierney before retreating into the kitchen. I knew I would be served last among humans but wondered if Ralts would be plated before me. The return trip answered that as my plate was set ahead of Ralts, who got a bowl of poké-chow with a steamed kuo berry over the top. It wasn't much for presentation compared to ours, the off-white fish bearing sliced shallot and mustard seeds as the heat slightly wilted the frisée. I wondered if we weren't meant to pile it on the toast, and if so, whole or flaked. It was a unique presentation, to be sure, and I followed Franklin's lead. Veronica seemed to be watching him as well.

"So, Jirarudan," Tierney started, "rumor has it that you're at the top of your class. Is that so?"

The results had come in from the remote school and I had been certain to tell Veronica about my standings. "It's so, or it was a few months ago when I last heard." Though it was hardly a competition, from what I understood.

"Oh yeah?" Franklin had just barely swallowed his first bite before asking. "What are your favorite subjects?"

If Veronica was insistent on continuing the game, she would have to have more attention as an esteemed guest, but there was no way that her parents would play along, so I would have to veer things back to her regularly. I felt suddenly uncomfortable. "Science, I think. Physics is really quite beautiful if you think about it in practical terms."

"You learn physics at your age? School really has changed since I went," he laughed.

"Ah, no but I study on my own. But I do enjoy what I've learned in class. If you mean at all, though, I'd say literature."

"What are your favorite works?" Veronica asked with a lilt, turning her attention back from Ralts. If it suspected anything was strange about her right then, it seemed to play along as well, though I doubt it understood much of what happened.

"Ah, I've recently re-read The Vulpix Prince." I had read it in Kalosian, but it was easier to give the translated title. "It's a beautiful, dreamlike story about a boy from another world."

"Oh, weren't you reading that last term, Veronica?" Tierney asked, pointing at her daughter with her fork in a gesture considered quite rude in my circles.

"I'm...well, who even remembers?" she dismissed with a giggle, trying to wave away attention from herself.

"No, I remember it," Franklin continued, "you said it was beautiful too. But you didn't say it was about aliens."

"Funny that they would read a book about aliens for school," Tierney set in, fork still hovering in her hand like a pencil. "That doesn't seem like the sort of literature we'd be hearing about from that school."

Veronica's eyes were darting about in what I could identify as discomfort. She went to one of the most prestigious schools in all of Kanto, and the thought her parents suddenly had was jarring.

"Oh, it's not really 'about' aliens," I assured them. "It's rife with symbolism and social satire, but it's also about what it means to grow up. Really a remarkable tale, especially for something as short as it is. And the illustrations are part of the story rather than simply being an aside."

Tierney finally set her fork aside to take a drink. "I'm wondering though. What do you like about physics? Veronica's grades could use a bit of a boost, so maybe you could explain things to her."

That was past what could be considered polite, or what could be excused, but I had to remain where I was and so did Veronica. "Apologies, but I don't think that's for me to do. I am, after all, her junior."

Franklin reached over to pat Veronica's hand, and she jolted slightly from the sudden touch. Nobody was to touch the noblewoman, and it seemed Veronica didn't take kindly to it either. "It's all right. We'll get things worked out. You're a bright girl, after all. Already in business for yourself, practically! You're really under a lucky star; isn't that what Asaph said?"

"Shining stars," I blurted. "He said we're shining stars."

"Shining stars, yes," Franklin repeated. "Veronica told us that a while ago but I think it's quite true."

I glanced back at Veronica and she was sitting up eerily straight again but paying rapt attention to the task of moving some flaked fish to the bread. "...Dinner tonight is excellent. I wouldn't have thought of this combination. Chefs never fail to surprise me with their creativity. My compliments!"

I could hear some laughter behind the kitchen door. "You're welcome, Miss Veronica!"

Tierney laughed as well. "You hear that? You're an impressive girl. No sinking into the background."

"Well, naturally." Veronica had a bit of a flip in her voice. "Do you expect differently?"

"Not for my daughter, of course," Tierney returned, but her voice had flattened again. "You're meant to be sensational. And you too, Jiri, from the sounds of it."

I think I sat up a little straighter. "Why thank you." But I also wanted to change the subject. "Tierney, how are your new lines coming along?"

"Ah, clever boy," she said with a nudge of her elbow, far from making contact. "You're going to want to keep an eye on the house if you want to know the next trends in the fashion world. Keep it under your hat, but I can show you a design or two if you want."

"Of course. So the house is branching out then, past trainers?"

"They're still our major youth market, but that just stands to reason. Most kids are trainers at some point, after all, but selling to an older audience can't be ignored."

"That makes perfect sense," Franklin interjected. "You have to be cunning in the fashion field. For me, I get to leave that to my bosses." I wasn't entirely certain what Franklin *did*, but I also wasn't curious enough to ask.

Veronica was still sitting in that odd way, and I was starting to wonder if she was all right. "Jirarudan," she asked in a strangely blunt way, "after dinner I would like to explore outside a bit if you'd accompany me."

"Oh, of course. Will Ralts be joining us?"

She looked down at the pokémon, who was still involved in dinner. "Not immediately, I don't think. I prefer a smaller entourage when traveling, anyway."

Just how far did she intend to take this game? I supposed I would see it through to the end. "We have several hours of daylight left, but we shouldn't stray far from the house." I suspected she would lead us into the woods that lay behind the servants' quarters, or maybe down the main road in front of the house. Somewhere away from the main building, but it was only suspicion.

"What manner of adventure doesn't stray from the known world?" she smiled.

For some reason, her words brought to mind whatever ancestor it must have been that engaged in that jungle expedition that resulted in the Ancient Mew, and I nodded in return.



Following an after-dinner drink of a light berry juice mix combined with sparkling water, something Franklin had referred to as a late summer delight, Veronica and I absconded to the back terrace, diverting only to grab my shoes from where I had left them. Though I noticed she was barefoot. "My lady, I pray you do not intend to walk into the forest with bare feet. It would be very uncomfortable, and as your guardian I--"

"Jiri, stop." Her voice was her own again. The game was over, far earlier than I would have thought.

"Oh...I'm sorry. I though we were still--"

"Please stop." Again, her voice had changed, in only a few words. It was distant and sparse, not the high class lilt of the daimyo's sister and not her usual bright tone. "Jiri..."

"Are you all right?"

She sat on the patio couch and pulled her legs up, taking up just enough room to require me to take to the matching chair forming a L with the couch, both giving perfect views of a delicate garden growing from a stylish concrete planter. "I'm not sure what to do with myself," she admitted, winding a scarf out from her hair and balling it in her hands.

"You have the Eye now. Aren't you over the moon for it?"

"...Keep a close eye on Asaph tomorrow. You will, right?" She stared off into the distance rather than looking towards me.

"Of course. Why?"

"I still feel like I took it from him."

We had been through that, hadn't we? His behaviour was strange and uncomfortable, but he had been very clear about that. "He wouldn't have sold it to you if he wanted to keep it. He thinks of you as a very mature young woman."

"I just spent the past three hours pretending to be some noblewoman from centuries ago." This was a little louder than before.

"People make a lot of money with that kind of dedicated performance." The vision of her as a stage star was new, but it was an image I could easily grasp.

"Jiri, you're probably the nicest person I've ever met." She was still staring off, but a thin smile crossed her lips.

"Oh, why thank you," I smiled back.

"...I meet a lot of people."

We sat in silence for a while, just the rustling of the wind through the terrace garden and the faint wind chimes narrating the scene for us. In due time she went back inside, leaving me alone with my thoughts, but I wasn't sure what to think.

 

[Blackjack Gabbiani]

(warning, this chapter has more of Asaph being creepy in the same way that happened in chapter 32 but the event doesn't repeat)



The next day was overcast, with a chill across the land, but not in a way that would seem to be an ill omen. The grounds lay thick with early morning fog that obscured the nearby treeline, creating an intimate backdrop from out the dining room window, perhaps intensified by the knowledge that such a setting wouldn't last long in that time of year.

Veronica sat across from me, chatting with her mother who sat beside her at the head of the table, seeming none the worse for the day before. They were both still in their nightclothes, but I had dressed for the day already, and when Veronica saw this she laughed. "Getting ahead of yourself? You haven't even eaten yet!"

"Ah, apologies," though I wasn't certain what, if anything, I was apologising for. "At my house, the kitchen is downstairs so there's an entirely different feel to things."

"That makes sense," Tierney murmured. "We're having congee today. Such a cold day, you need something to keep you going, yeah?"

It seemed a bit out of season but she was right, even if it would warm up later. "That stands to reason. Anything in it?"

Veronica grinned. "I think the chef wanted a chance to use century eggs. They smell TERRIBLE unless you prepare them right. I wonder how you're supposed to know if they've gone bad. But I guess that's what a professional would have to know."

I'd had them before and felt they had the taste of scrambled eggs, despite their glassy and offputting appearance. The memory was a bit unusual, because unlike most other worldly food, I'd had it with my mother. "That's funny," I mused aloud. "I remember mama took me to a place that served them."

At the mention of my mother, Veronica's expression shifted slightly but she kept quiet, so I continued.

"I wasn't sure what to think of them. Come to think of it, I think I had them in congee then as well. It was all so unusual. Us going to another town was very unusual itself. I wish I could remember why we were there."

"You didn't travel as a kid?" Tierney asked, and it struck me as unusual but at first I couldn't put my finger on why.

"Not especially. Mama wasn't one for travel. I think Seafoam was the furthest we ever went, and I don't even remember it clearly. I would have been maybe...three when we took that trip. Maybe four." Oh, that was what had stood out. Tierney spoke of me being a kid as being in the past rather than the present. I knew I was an adult; Asaph knew that too. But it was rare to see it recognised.

She leaned back as the kitchen door opened and the chef placed a steaming bowl in front of her, with a large ceramic spoon to the side. "That's a shame. I travel a lot but it's all for work. It sounds like the two of you go everywhere. Do you think you'll go overseas any time soon?" She picked up the spoon and waved it in front of her before retrieving a spoonful of breakfast. "Maybe you'll end up going wherever this is from."

I realised even I didn't know where that was. Veronica, though, was smiling and it seemed best to cultivate that by turning attention back to her. "Veronica," I started, "did you sleep well?"

She startled a little bit, but still made sure to thank the chef for delivering her own bowl before addressing me. "Uh, about the same. I keep feeling like I'm being watched. I guess that would be why they called it 'the Eye'."

But it was unusual. I had addressed her specifically to keep that smile aloft and it had vanished as she spoke. "I had fun yesterday. I'd like to do that again."

Tierney raised an eyebrow and looked back and forth between us. "Anything I should know about?"

Veronica's eyes widened. "We played a game; that's all."

Her mother laughed. "I was kidding, honey. You take things so seriously! What game did you play? That funny one with the mushrooms?"

Ah, the video game. "Uh, yeah, we played that. We got pretty far, I think. People at school say that it's got eight worlds to it, and I think we made it to the fifth one. Right, the fifth? Or the fourth?"

"To be honest I can't remember. It ran together for me a bit." The game had done its best to have different colour schemes and thematic elements as one progressed, but it was limited by the technology. I received my own bowl and thanked the chef just as Veronica had. "I think I'd prefer something with more of a story to it. I can see the appeal of interactive stories, playing the dashing hero yourself. But I need to know more of what I'm doing." Though it struck me that perhaps that was what our overarching game had been. "Maybe something where I could explore history. Really get to know the figures involved."

She sat up straighter and shot an odd expression at me, something with narrowed eyes and a mouthed syllable that I couldn't discern. "Haha...maybe someday. Something like that could take you over, though. You could really lose yourself in it."

I smiled at the thought. "Ah, imagine if the technology gets that far. I can already lose myself in a good book, and the limit of my involvement there is turning the pages."

Tierney was somehow already nearly done with her bowl, having managed to do it unobtrusively. "Sounds like you kids are having a lot of fun together. What time do you leave, Jiri?"

"Asaph's driver should get here around ten." The reply had come from Veronica rather than me. "So he's got a little bit yet."

"Mm, I'll have to say my goodbyes now. I've got a conference call in ten minutes and then I'll be working until five. Veronica, you'll have the house to yourself all day. Don't get into any trouble!" This was said with a lopsided smile that I was fairly certain was meant to give it a comical tone. "And I don't want you staring at that opal all day either." Tierney had finished her breakfast in what had to be record time, and stood to kiss Veronica on the forehead. "I've gotta go now, honey. See you tonight."

"See you later, mom." She must have been quite famished, as her focus remained on her own bowl. "Love you."

Tierney waved elaborately as she exited the room, leaving us alone. From the kitchen I could hear tapping and clinking, likely the chef finally getting to indulge on the congee.

"Veronica," I asked, getting her name spoken first so she could finish her spoonfull as I continued, "what would you like to do today?"

She shook her head. "I didn't sleep well last night. Would you mind just reading with me or something? Or we could listen to music?"

"That sounds wonderful. Or hopefully it will." It was meant to be a joke and I hoped she took it as such, but I wasn't sure because she went back to her breakfast.




"It seems almost like the singer was distracted. Don't you agree?"

The both of us were lounged in the den, listening to a record of a live performance of The Cub. Veronica's parents had gotten it for her a few years ago, as the storyline of the piece followed a series of different species of pokémon as they left their nests for the first times, so it was thought of as a beginner piece to get children interested in the symphony. The Zorua suite had a vocalist, meant to inform the young creature's attempt to assimilate with human children through transformation.

Veronica had asked the question as she slouched against the couch, seated on the floor with her hair spread across the cushion. It had to be an uncomfortable position, I thought, but then I had also thought that she had fallen asleep at one point.

"Distracted? It just sounded to me like the drum was drowning her out. I know that's intentional, nervous heartbeat and all, but that doesn't make for good sound."

"Yeah, I heard another performance of this with my class. We heard it live downtown. You wouldn't have liked it though. Having a concert for elementary school kids isn't a good idea." Ah, so this would have been before we met. "Anyway the singer was a lot better. Drum was still loud, but the singer seemed to have more of their mind together for it. If that makes sense."

"I think it does. You probably have to be very present in the moment to be a performer like that, even with everything else on your mind. Though you did an excellent job of it yesterday."

At first I thought she didn't hear me and I was going to repeat myself before she replied. "Mm. I just didn't know anything about her." It was very soft, and if it hadn't been for a lull in the music, I wouldn't have been able to hear her at all.

"Even then, you did very well. You took what you knew of the era and used it to your advantage." I moved to stand up. "I've got to be ready to leave soon, so shall we move this to the main room?"

She sighed a little and crawled over to the stereo to turn it off, raising the arm from the record and replacing it to the cradle without waiting for the machine to do so automatically. "All right. I wish you didn't have to go. You've been so distant since Fuschia."

Had I? She'd been the distant one, keeping company with her new friends and business partners, and being so enthralled with her acquisition. But before I could bring that to her attention, the doorbell rang, and she sprang up to run and answer it before the house staff could.

I trailed after her to the main room, where she was already at the intercom next to the elevator. "Yes?"

"Miss Veronica? It's good to hear from you again." Igasho's voice came through, crisper than I would have thought. "I'm here for Jirarudan."

She smiled. "Absolutely. He's ready to go, or will be once he gets his shoes on. You got us at a good time. We were listening to music and just turned it off about a minute ago."

"I have been in this business for a long time. Perhaps I have a second sense for these things," he chuckled, and only then did the sound tin up a bit.

That smile was gone, though, when she turned to look at me. "Jiri...I'm going to miss you. Call me, ok?"

It wasn't as though I was going to go anywhere, not for long anyway. And my number was the same as always but she hadn't called me. "You as well," I reminded her, but made sure to smile as I did so it didn't come across as harsh.

She looked away for a moment but took up the handle from my suitcase and handed it to me as I slid my shoes on. "Here, good thing it was brought out here earlier. Remember, keep an eye on Asaph."

"Naturally."

"Um...here." Slowly, hesitantly, she slid a hand around my shoulder and pulled me in for a hug. "I'm counting on you."




Igasho must have known the gate code to get in, I realised as he put the suitcase into the boot of Asaph's car. Where I lived didn't have that sort of security to it, but it would also feel far too isolating to be cut off from things like that, left there with my father.

"Young master, how was your stay with Veronica?" Igasho asked as he held the door open for me, back seat as usual.

I slid in with a nod of my head. "It was interesting. We got to know each other a little better, I think. Um..." I paused for a second, but held onto the thinking sound to maintain his attention. "How is Asaph? Veronica expressed concern for him, but he sounded fine last we spoke."

He smiled slightly. "It's still very kind of you to ask." Was it? "I think it best if we talk in the car."

But instead, we pulled off the property in silence, and I felt a bit odd to take in the change of seasons starting so early. It was late summer and some of the trees were already starting to darken. I wanted to put on my headphones, but Igasho's company meant that it would be rude to do so, so they had to remain in my satchel.

"Now then, you asked how master Asaph is, yes?" he started, and I nodded so he could see me in the rearview mirror. I could see him as well, but he kept his eyes to the road after the brief glance back towards me. "As you know, the sale of the Eye has kept in his thoughts. He'll be grateful to see you, but I would avoid bringing up miss Veronica very often."

"Should I say that she's concerned for him?"

"To be honest, I don't know how he would take that. Also, of course, please don't mention that I spoke with you about any of this."

"Naturally." It seemed everyone was keeping secrets.




The mansion was just as I remembered, and for some reason I felt as though something should have changed. Even an especially large branch in a nearby tree, one that always seemed to be so heavy it would snap off at any given moment, retained its precarious posture. The coatrack standing next to the door maintained its position of keeping its legs in a strict angle to the corner of the entryway.

Igasho had disappeared somewhere once bringing my luggage inside, and someone had already spirited it away by the time I had taken my shoes off. I knew that it would be waiting for me in the guest room, but I had wanted to go up myself and get changed into something a little fancier than Veronica's house had merited.

I wondered where Asaph was. The gallery, his office, the library, the grounds, anywhere could be possible in such an expansive place. Surely the factory was much larger, by a massive magnitude, but it was vastly empty. Even when some large craft was under construction, the transient nature of the build lent itself to a much different sensation. It was big in the way the outdoors is big, something that could be endless and still not register as being present at all.

It was also quiet there, while there was always some sort of noise at my father's house. Be it from the factory or workers or the ocean or him tapping away at his computer, there was never a second without noise filling the air. But at Asaph's home, if nobody was in the hall, there was stillness. I knew that the kitchen staff would have likely already started on dinner, and the dining room was just off the entryway with the kitchen attached to it in such a way that put it at the front of the house, but I couldn't hear a thing from it, and I must have been smiling at the peace of it all because one of the house staff approached me.

"Asaph wishes to speak with you. He's in his office. You seem like you're in a good mood!" I had seen the man before, but didn't know his name.

"Thank you. I'll head up there."




To go up the stairs was something that always filled me with some excitement. There was a sense of drama to them, to the hand carved railing and gentle curve of the landing as they changed direction midway. I felt as though I was making a grand entrance somewhere. Though going down was even grander, like a scene from some sweeping epic where the hero arrived at a society event somewhere, all eyes on them and all wondering who this mysterious person was.

Though the upper and lower halls were usually empty, and that dulled the presentation.

I realised something strange as I approached the office, which was that it felt as though I was floating and distant. I had been very much present a moment before, so the offhand realisation caught me by surprise. I rested my hand on the doorknob as if expecting it to move on its own, trying to regain some sense of presence in the current situation.

What would he do? Would he wish to kiss me again, in the privacy of the office? Would he wish to--

I shook my head. Whatever would happen would happen. And I was an adult, after all. Others my age were expected to be independent and travel the land on their own, making every decision for their life, and I could do the same with Asaph.

So why did I shiver slightly when I turned the knob?




He was again looking out the window. If he had been doing so for long, he would have seen me arrive. The highway was visible from there too, at the end of the driveway, and I wondered if he ever liked to watch cars pass by. Unlike earlier, he didn't have a drink with him, and the bottle from months before was gone, likely emptied.

"Jiri?" he asked without turning around.

I wasn't certain if I should say anything special, so I settled on "Hello."

Slowly, so very slowly, he turned towards me. He was smiling, but in a way not found in any of my photo collection, so I couldn't recognize the presentation. "How is the Eye?"

That certainly wasn't what I had been expecting to be asked, not after so long and not after everything that had happened between us last we had been in the same room together. "Um..."

"She did let you see it, right? Tell me how it is."

"It...it looks the same as always. It's very beautiful, as always. She has it by a window in her room, and it casts the same spell on her as before." Somehow I wasn't sure what to do with my hands, so I folded them behind me.

He chuckled and took a step closer, but not far. "I'm not making you nervous, am I? I wouldn't want that to happen. But it's all right. As long as everything works out." Another step, and I noticed he wasn't smiling any more. Somehow he looked happier without it. "It's good to see you with my own eyes. I've thought a lot about...well, no matter. May I hug you?"

I nodded. "That sounds all right." At least he asked. My father never did.

Asaph knelt down, even though he surely could have hugged me from a standing position, and wrapped his arms around me, resting his head on my chest and giving me a gentle squeeze. "I've missed you so much. I've missed having you here, your company. It's not the same over the phone. I need to see you."

I drifted back to the last time I had been in his office, where he had desperately made me promise not to waste my life. He had been an utter shambles then, downing brandy and embracing me with shaking hands. At least his embrace was steady now.

He stood back up and drew me close again, putting a hand to the back of my head and patting my hair. I could tell he was careful not to muss it up. "Tell me about your day."

"Well...Veronica and I--" I noticed he tensed when I mentioned her name but I kept talking unabated "--had breakfast with her mother, and then we listened to some music in the den. And then Igasho came, and he and I talked for a bit in the car."

"What did you talk about?" He wasn't letting me go.

I would keep the secret Igasho asked me to. "He had a cassette playing. We talked about the singer a bit. I'd never heard of her but she has a magnificent voice."

He chuckled again and dropped his hand to my back. "I think I know the one. The Galarian operetta?"

"Yes. It's unusual to hear an operetta performed mostly as a monologue, isn't it? There's a few pieces by others, but they're never very long." My Galarian was still developing but I could tell enough that the story was a shifting tale of a sailor's wife waiting for his return. The pieces ranged from fearful paranoia to lighthearted comedy as she wondered what he could be up to on his ship, and as far as I listened, he was never shown. "There was a piece Igasho found very funny, but I didn't understand it. He said it was full of puns, so I'll have to brush up on my Galarian."

His hands strayed to my shoulders and finally he pulled me back, gently still, and he was smiling much clearer. "I know just the piece. Nearly every line has a pun to it. I think there's a translation to it, with footnotes, in the Viridian library. We'll have to stop there next time we're in town."

I tried to copy his smile back at him. "I'd like to see it. You don't have anything like that?"

"Theater isn't really my strong suit. I did at one point own an original script of To Be With You In The Summertime, but I sold it. Gracious, that was probably before you were..." He trailed off and let his hands fall back to his sides. The smile was again gone. "...I'm doing it again, aren't I?" That was spoken almost silently, and if I'd been much further away I wouldn't have heard it.

But I figured I should ask, just to be safe. "Doing what?"

He stepped back and looked me from head to toe and back up. "Haha..." It didn't sound like there as any mirth in his laugh. "Just thinking too much. I've been doing that a lot. It's a bad habit."

"But thinking is a good thing. That's how we get anything done."

He briefly turned back towards the window. "Not these thoughts. They're so...distracting. But that's for me to worry about, not you."

This is what Veronica had been talking about, wasn't it? He was still torn up over the Eye, even though it had been his decision to sell it. Regret hung heavy over him.

I hoped I would never do something that I would regret so deeply. Thinking back, I wish the fruitlessness of that hope had been evident to me at the time.

"Asaph, if you need anything..." But I wasn't sure what I could possibly do for him, so I let the statement hang in the air. I'd said it out of politeness anyway.

He watched me closely again before responding with a gentle smile. "You're always so compassionate," he whispered as he brought a hand to brush against my cheek. "You'll be a wonder to behold."

I decided to play it casually to perhaps lighten the mood. "I'd like to think I already am."

"You absolutely are. But other people will be able to appreciate you even more."

"The way you do?"

His hand froze on my face for a fraction of a second. "Eventually, perhaps. If you want them to."

"I want to live life to its full potential." Somehow it felt only natural to say it, even if it was a bit overdramatic.

"That's my boy. Do you want to head down to the gallery?"

"Oh Asaph," I smiled back, "you never really have to ask that question."





The gallery was its usual splendor, always leaving me with that mystical dazed feeling as if visiting another world. I remembered with some fondness how it used to overwhelm me, just as Asaph asked what was on my mind.

He pondered this for a moment before asking how it made me feel currently, and said it was fortunate that I hadn't lost the excitement.

"Do some collectors eventually grow bored?"

Asaph drew a deep sigh. "Some of them give up entirely. It's horrifying to see, as if all joy has left them. They're incapable of feeling that love that once inspired them, and it never ends well. Those people...I cannot trust people like that."

"Does it ever come back?"

Another sigh. "Rarely. Very rarely. If someone no longer feels that passion from their collection, it means something horrible has happened in their life, in their personality, even their soul." He squeezed my shoulder in what I think was meant to be an encouraging way. "But to live with that passion without being overwhelmed by it is different. I think it means you're destined to do this."

"I like to think so. Destined, you say?"

"Absolutely. It's the sign of a passionate man, I think, and you've already started on the right path."

I shook my head. "No, I mean destiny itself. Fated, written in the stars sort of thing. Preordained or the like."

He laughed. "I wouldn't be surprised. You're far from ordinary, so if there's some prophesy about you, it wouldn't shock me."




There was always much to do at his house, and he seemed in better spirits than he initially had. The weather had held and the day remained dry once the morning fog had cleared, so Asaph had the idea that we should travel to Cerulean for dinner.

"Isn't dinner nearly ready?" I asked him with some confusion.

"Oh, the staff will eat it. Don't fret." He patted my head, careful not to muss anything. "Now, you brought something fine to wear, right?"

Everything I had packed was fine, I had thought, but to be seen in society required another degree. "I'll show you what I brought, since you seem to have a place in mind. Come with me."

We headed up the stairs, but when I turned towards the guest room, he took my arm. "Your suitcase is in my room."

Somehow this wasn't surprising, especially after the strange embrace he had greeted me with. "All right. I thought nobody was meant to know any of this."

He tapped the tip of my nose. "You've slept in there before and nobody said anything."

I supposed, but that was for brief naps, not overnight. But he had to have some idea in mind, so I didn't press the issue.




After looking through what I had brought, he picked out a fitting combination, and I was glad I had brought extra clothes than just for overnight. My intention had been to prepare for the strange weather, but it was, ultimately, always good to be ready for anything when dealing with Asaph.

"Don't tarry," he reminded me, headed out so I could change, "the city awaits!"

It had been a while since I'd visited Cerulean. It was bigger than Viridian but didn't feel like it, seeming like no more than a dot on the map, and I wondered why he had chosen there as our destination.

I wondered if we would ever go to Fuschia again. We would have to, in time, I figured. Even if they no longer hosted a relevant exhibit, the museum was still a wonder to behold, and it held a lot of historic charm. All the major Kantonian cities offered something different and distinct, and even then they didn't quite serve as the microcosm that I wanted. I wanted the whole of the world, and that got me thinking again of the promised airship. Provided the H-Class was viable, or whatever it could turn into, it would be magnificent, something beyond anything else on the market. And if all went according to plan, it would be mine, and so would the world it would grant me.

Above all else, I desired the freedom to do what I wished. To be unbound by obligation to anyone or anything but my collection. It would be something truly divine.




The fields outside of Cerulean were plain, a disappointment after the magnificent view of the lake and waterways from our approach. The famous lotuses were just out of bloom by a few weeks, though according to Asaph, the city's lotus root curry was a delight any time of year. I laughed and told him that I wasn't about to risk having curry in my fine clothes, and he said that may be a risk worth taking some other time, which got us talking about other events.

"There's a fireworks display in a few months, if you'd like to see that. I know it may not really be your thing..." He chuckled, "it's not really mine either, but I can imagine it would be a sight to behold. Art in an ancient form with modern technology; I know that's something you enjoy."

That was something to think of. He had praised me before for being forward-thinking in my interests, and I suppose that was an art form itself. But the noise and the smell and the crowds lost any interest I could have had in the subject itself. "No thank you. Perhaps if there's a recording of them." The idea would be blasphemous for nearly anything else, but he just nodded.

"I understand. You're never much for busy places. That's all right. Though I do enjoy getting to show you off."

"I think I rather enjoy being shown off."



Taking a cab into the city from the docks was always a dice roll of an experience, but the drive was pleasant enough. We passed in front of a historical museum built from a replica of the castle that once occupied the land, the original having been consumed by a fire. Asaph told me that by that time, it had been retired from its original purpose as the home of a lord and had been converted into government offices, and I wondered what that meant for the potential loss of artwork that may have dwelled there.

He squeezed my hand and said it was all right, but I wasn't sure if he was talking about that or something else.

It was still summer and the hours were still long, and at around five pm we had a while left of light yet. There was a park across from the restaurant and he wanted to take me on a stroll there afterwards, but first he was eager to show me this place. It was on the rooftop, quite a novelty, and we would see much of the city from there.

Even today, Cerulean lacks the truly massive buildings found in other cities like Celadon, so a tall building there is almost quaint by comparision. But I didn't mind. Unlike being in an airship, being in a tall building is unpleasant and stifling for me, so it was much more enjoyable to take in. We were led to our seats almost immediately, the open-air setting giving it a free and wild sense.

Across the room, there was some sort of celebration that seemed to be centered around someone my age, and from what I could make out, they had just gotten the Cerulean gym badge. Asaph must have caught me watching them, because he started drawing my attention away from it. "Just think, that could have been you if you were a more everyday sort of person. But you're beyond that sort of thing," he said with a smile. "Bread and circuses, Jiri. That's all it is."

"Oh I know. Still, it's odd to see in a place like this. Don't most trainers tend to take on Cerulean fairly early?" I found myself continuing to lean over to spy on the celebration. "I wouldn't think they'd have the money for a place like this until much later. Though I suppose they could have found something in Mount Moon to sell."

"Perhaps." He waved his hand dismissively. "I'll be surprised if they manage to hold onto it though. That's another thing that makes you special. People at your age don't tend to manage their money very well. Though people my age don't either, if they come into a lot of it."

"Then it's good that I have a wealthy benefactor to show me the way."

He grinned. "Very good indeed."

"So, how did you hear about this place?" I asked as I looked out over the city and wondered how it would look with the fog from that morning.

"Oh, around. It's a new hot spot, I'm told, and it keeps with my tastes of a class of company. At least it ought to." He was probably glancing backwards at the party if I had to guess. "Though I suppose there's no predicting everything."

I laughed a little at that. "You'd make an even greater fortune if you could. You'd be an oracle."

"I don't think oracles make all that much, really," he chuckled. "Though they do tend to get immortalized in art. I'm not sure how I'd feel about that. I'm not much to look at, I don't think, and I'd rather surround myself with other worlds than just the one I already live in."

"Understandable." I took a drink of water and noted with some amusement that he did so at the same time. "The world can be beautiful, but it's still the everyday. I feel like some days I take in everything at once, so I've seen everything there is to see. Like I live faster than others." I looked back at him for that. "It's probably not a fair way of putting it, but I seem to see more detail and...I guess take in more."

"Which is why a fireworks show would be right out."

"Yes, exactly. If how others react is any indication, it seems like they don't hear as much or see as much or anything of the sort. Either that or they don't care, which is also likely." I shrugged and hoped it looked as casual as I intended, which his lack of reaction seemed to indicate was the case. "It's always a puzzle, isn't it, to deal with others?"

"You do so well," he told me with a finger out to gesture to a waiter. "But puzzles like that are nothing to someone of your mind. You unravel them with ease, or you seem to."

Was that so? It was a constant strain that often left me confused, but if it appeared effortless to him then I supposed that meant I was succeeding. "Why thank you." I paused as he placed a drink order, watching out over the park again, but it was only for a moment and I was able to return to the same line of thought without hesitation. "People are often so unreasonable. That's why I like things like art and science."

He was looking around the room, and I wasn't sure if anyone was meant to meet us or if he was just getting a feel for our surroundings, though I quickly ruled out the former since our table was meant for two. "You've always seen beyond the surface, haven't you? That's something I truly love about you."

For some reason, I thought back to my initial impression of him, the man of eternal calm, and how inaccurate that had been. But a few years had passed since those days, hadn't they? I was grown now, learned and worldly. "I've learned a lot since we first met."

My musing to him seemed to catch him by surprise, indicated by a raised eyebrow. "I'm glad you have. I look forward to teaching you more. Perhaps someday, we--"

But the waiter came and set our drinks down. He had ordered some sort of cocktail that I couldn't recognize, only that it came with a small piece of grilled pinap held across it with a toothpick. My drink was a lightly iced tea presented in a similar manner with a maraschino cherry across the top, and I was somewhat glad that it had a toothpick as well instead of a plastic sword like other places often gave. I took a sip and found things perfectly agreeable. "Someday, we...?" I prompted him.

He set his own drink down first. "Oh, I think I lost my train of thought. Haha, sorry about that." After another sip, he asked "Would you like to try this? It's all right if it's just a taste."

"Sure, I'll try."

He handed the glass over to me, taking the pinap slice and sliding it between his teeth as he watched me, head resting on his off hand. The drink was strong smelling once up close, though closer observation did nothing to help identify the ingredients.

"Some sort of alcohol, of course," I murmured, and across from me he laughed slightly. "Something that pairs well with pinap or else they wouldn't serve it." I tried to think back to anything I had read on the subject but couldn't come up with anything, and the name of the drink didn't give any clues either. "Well, I give up. I don't know what's in an Alolan Breeze," I concluded before I took a sip, which I immediately regretted. I couldn't discern any individual taste, only the overwhelming sensation of the sip burning down the back of my throat. Quicker than I'd hoped to, I handed the glass back to him. "I'm sorry," I told him though I wasn't sure what I was sorry for, and tried to look as casual as I could as I drank from my water to wash away the uncomfortable taste.

"We'll have to get you a bit more accustomed to some of this. You'll be expected to have wine, at least, at some events." He set the glass back where it had started. "But you're right, this was maybe a bit strong for you right now." He leaned back. "Jiri. I'm proud of you for handling this better than you did before. You always amaze me how much you've grown."

"Even if I failed at it?"

With a smile, he reached a hand over the table to rest over mine. "You handled disappointment with grace and reason. Even people my age can't do that as well as you did. You're so remarkably mature."

I leaned back but kept my hand on the table, still cupped by his. "If I have to have it anyway...I'm not looking forward to that." Though that was the hand closest to my water glass, and I wanted another drink. There was the iced tea but it would sully the taste.

"Well, we can work on that. Wine is considerably milder than this, by half or more. It'll be easier for you to get used to. Ah, we all have to do things we don't like." He set his hand back, allowing me to reach for my water. "If it was up to me, I'd like to hold your hand more often, but I have to settle for a brief touch."

I wasn't certain how to respond to that. I didn't especially like having my hand held, by him or Veronica or my father or even my mother, but it would have been rude to tell him that.

"Jiri, you'll need to look at the menu as well."

"Oh, that's right. I'm sorry." Almost on instinct, I looked out over the park again, but that just turned my attention away from the stated goal, so I looked back a moment later. "I've got a lot on my mind." A day ago I'd been gallivanting about with a Veronica who was very dedicated to her role, even in front of her parents. "Schoolwork and such."

"Ah, are you keeping up with that?" He took a drink. "You've always been an excellent student."

I wondered if there was a difference in being an excellent student and getting excellent marks. The latter was certainly true. "I'm getting high marks as always. And studying on my own."

"Wonderful!"

Finally I got around to the iced tea. It was sweet but not overly so, and had more of a passionfruit taste than the cherry would have indicated, and the lingering sensation of Asaph's drink didn't interfere. "What did you study in school when you were my age?"

He had been watching me intently, but glanced away when I asked that. "I suppose the same things others my age did. You're far more diligent than I ever was. The thought of studying outside of what I needed for school wouldn't have entered my mind."

That seemed a bit strange. "Even as it regarded the art world?"

"Even then. I hadn't had my major revelation yet. It would be a few years for me. See..." He took another sip and leaned back again, tilting his gaze at the sky. "I didn't grow up like you did. I was born into this, so it was always there for me. I was used to it, and that can lead to apathy. It did for a long time. I didn't develop that passion for many years."

"I'm glad you eventually did." I wanted to ask him further, but somehow it seemed as if that was something he had to offer on his own.

It was rather strange to me that he didn't.




Our conversation continued into dinner. A Kalosian inspired dish that the waiter recommended had stood out to me, but the Shellder tart was bland and utterly disappointing. "I don't especially care for this," I whispered across the table. "I would have hoped for better."

He nodded with a bit of a sigh to it. "In a place like this, the food is somewhat secondary. You're here for the ambience, and perhaps to see and be seen. I was hoping there would be a more reliable class here tonight, but it seems fate had other ideas." A smile grew across his face. "I love showing you off, and I've missed doing so over the past few months. You're such a wonder to behold."

His words carried a heavy weight to them, and I looked away from him, inwards at the other diners. The group around the trainer seemed to be wrapping things up, and had calmed themselves to enjoy a dessert. But nobody else caught my eye. Nobody stood out. They all faded into the background as if they were part of the restaurant's decor, itself nothing special either.

It was a disquieting sensation and I wasn't sure why, but he continued before I could dwell much longer on it. "Jiri, what's on your mind? I feel like I've been monopolizing things tonight."

I couldn't tell him what I was thinking of right that moment, but there was something that had come up earlier that I had been wanting to discuss with him. "I was thinking of my mother earlier."

"Oh? She's always in your heart, isn't she?"

"I think so..." I smiled a bit at that. "I was talking to Veronica and her mother about a trip we had taken when I was small. And it was only to Seafoam."

"Mm. To visit your father?"

"Likely. I don't remember anything about him at the time, though. But...what I was thinking of is how that was the farthest we ever traveled together. She seemed content to stay where she was, even with how she was treated there. Why would she want to remain anywhere for that long, much less a place like that?" I couldn't quite look at his face so I maintained a gaze somewhere on his chest, so I was looking towards him at least. "I don't really understand."

He leaned back, tilting his head skyward again, but this time looked back at me. "She didn't have the means to travel much, did she?"

"I'm not sure. We never discussed money. I think my father sent her a fair bit though."

"Mm, he's the sort to. As the heir to her estate, you should look into it." Asaph had gestured at me with his fork in a waggish gesture, one that would usually be rude but was fine in a close relationship. "You have her books and such, right?"

"I have a few, but my father keeps them in his study. I should revisit them, shouldn't I?"

"Were they anything of interest to you? Then probably."

I shrugged in the same way I had before. "I've got more ahead of them. I'm working through a series of poems right now, though they're not very interesting. It's part of the Kalosian canon though so I feel I should be acquainted with them."

He chuckled. "That's very responsible of you. I appreciate that."

"Although..." I sighed a bit. We had gotten off course. "I don't think we ever went anywhere notable. We lived in the middle of nowhere, and Seafoam isn't interesting at all. It's dreadfully dull and she doubtless only went there because of him anyway. Otherwise it would have been the same as every other day."

"She wouldn't have gone?"

"We only made day trips otherwise." Or had we? It wasn't often enough to remember. "I was very young. I don't even remember what towns we went to." I smiled a bit. "I was just glad to spend time with her."

"All your days were with her, weren't they?" He seemed more focused on me than he had been for a bit. "And you never grew tired of that. She must have been quite a woman then."

Under his gaze, I was aware that I had started to twist at her ring, but I didn't look away from him. "I wish you could have met. She was a work of art herself."

"I greatly enjoy people like that. True masterpieces." He was looking deep into my eyes and I didn't feel the need to look away. "Sometimes it feels like they're rarer to find in people than they are in the art world."

"I very much agree." To emphasize this, I raised my glass in a toast. "To the masterpieces of life."

"Here here!" he grinned as he clinked his glass with mine. "To those rare gems."

"To shining stars!" I added as we withdrew, and he smiled at me through taking his drink.





"Just think, soon it will be bitter cold," he mused as we crossed the street into the park. "Time passes so fast, so we have to enjoy what we have."

"It was cold this morning," I told him. "When I woke up. It was cold and foggy."

"I saw. I had to handle a foreign call today so I was up very early. It was the middle of the afternoon for them." He smiled. "When you're a collector on my scale, you'll have to deal with late nights and early mornings sometimes."

"I wonder if there'll be the ability to have robots handle things, like in stories," I mused. "Though I suppose that wouldn't be handy, since they couldn't make decisions without us. There's no way we could teach them everything."

He laughed. "It wouldn't have that personal touch either, and sometimes that can make all the difference in a seller's decision on who to sell to. I've been in arrangements where I was picked over a higher bidder just because they saw me as appreciating the work more. It's all in how you sell yourself as well, the image you give off."

Although that made me think of what he had said earlier, about liking to show me off. "So it's something we have to maintain at all times."

"Yes, you get it. Think about Lucrezia, how she presents herself. She's friendly and outgoing, but there's a cunning to her. She always seems to know just enough to make herself seem like she belongs in any situation. It does wonders for her in business as well, being such a bon vivant."

"Her son doesn't seem to like it much."

Asaph stopped for a second and shook his head, that smile still there. "Though they're in the same business, he takes a...much different approach. In our circles he's much more direct than he is elsewhere. Ironically, I think he would make a more successful collector if he had any interest in it. He knows how to engage in subterfuge, and I'm glad you ended up on his good side." He stopped again, longer this time. "I'd prefer if you didn't deal with him any more than you needed. But I can't exactly stop you."

That was unusual. "You know he does business with my father."

"Yes, but that's different. That's strictly business and nothing else, a normal transaction. You though..." He clapped a hand down on my shoulder. "He may believe that you owe him for your good fortune, and someday come to collect on it."

This sudden shift in tone was unnerving, but so far it seemed to only be words. There was none of the shaking or wavering I knew he would display if he was truly upset, only a solid tone and firm but not tight grip. So I said only "Asaph..." and let it hang in the air.

At that, he gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze and relaxed. "Maybe I'm worried over nothing. He wouldn't dare do anything with his mother around. She'd have his head."

I took a short step away, but I was smiling enough to tell him that I was listening. "I'm sure that she would."

He chuckled. "She's in the same business, of course, but I wouldn't worry about her. Just as long as you don't fall in with that crowd, you'll be fine."

It wasn't clear what he meant but I nodded just the same. "Of course. We've always got to be cautious of the company we keep."

Something shifted in his expression but I wasn't certain what it was. "...Yes we do. Jiri...do you want to hold my hand?"

I didn't like the sensation of doing so. It was hot and uncomfortable to hold my arm in that way and I always had to wipe sweat from my palm afterwards. But he wanted some sort of closeness, didn't he? It would be rude to refuse, but perhaps another solution could be found. Instead, I offered my arm as I had to Veronica the day before. "I will accompany you, good sir."

It took a second for him to realise what I was doing, but he linked his arm in mind and I was reminded of an image I'd seen of a classical Unovan boardwalk promenade from a century before, with all manner of folk there to be seen. The scene around us transposed with the scene from the photo, filling the Cerulean park with the sort of exoticism only the feeling of worldly knowledge can grant.

We fell silent for a while, taking in the surroundings. The park was quiet despite the location in the city, with a copse of tall trees astride the paved path and a lake before us. Cerulean was known for its water, and water types came along with that, many Goldeen and Magikarp visible in the pond even from a distance, scales glinting in the early evening sun. Though it wasn't nearly as grand or as stylized as Higuchi-san's pond, and almost certainly lacked any shiny varieties. If it ever did, they would be caught by trainers immediately, even with capture being forbidden in the park. Though I could certainly see the appeal of disobeying the rules to obtain something so special.

Briefly I entertained the fantasy of nabbing something like that, adding it to my collection. In my image, I had the same sort of containment field that had held the Omastar at the Pewter exhibit, and the hapless fish flopped about in it. Though that held with it the additional knowledge that long ago, Goldeen were bound to the water and would die outside of it like ordinary fish. I wondered if there was any external difference to them. Would I be able to tell beforehand if an ancient counterpart suddenly bred itself back into existence? Alas, by that point, my reverie was disrupted by pondering the sciences, and I couldn't get too far in that fantasy. Even so, what I had thought of still resulted in the mental image of myself absconding with a shiny Goldeen in a force field, perhaps running across the open field with my prize, and it was a silly enough image to get me smiling in a lopsided manner.

"You seem entertained by something. Do you want to share?"

I laughed. "Just a flight of fancy. Wondering if anybody tries to break the no capture rule here if a shiny was to pop up. But I'm sure they do."

But he scoffed. "Trainers will do anything for something that lets them stand out. They're such common rabble. It's disgraceful." His tone wasn't its usual evenness, and bore a sharp edge to it. "I'll trust you never fall into that life."

"Oh, of course not. I never had any interest in traveling the land like that," I said with a dismissive wave of a hand. "Any traveling I do will be by fine vehicle. Or airship, naturally."

That brought the smile back to him, but with an oddly furrowed brow. "Jiri. You've made your decision, right?" Again, it wasn't his usual even tone, but this time it was much softer.

"About the airship? He's still testing it. He got float stones imported from Unova to test it, and last I heard, he was happy that they were in the precise measures he asked for. Sometimes the things he orders don't come as precisely as he wanted." I disengaged my arm from his and took a few steps ahead. "I'll be able to tell you soon, I think. But I think it would be good if you showed interest in the project in advance, so it doesn't come out of nowhere should you offer that funding."

"That makes sense. You've thought about this a lot, haven't you?" He chuckled, and I could imagine how he looked even with my back turned. "You're always thinking of the future. It's an admirable trait, especially in someone your age." In my image of him, he was shaking his head with a smile, but of course I couldn't be sure. "That's what puts you above everyone else. You're so beautiful and bright."

He wouldn't say things like that if there were others around, so the path behind him must have been empty. "Asaph, of course I'm special. I have a mentor like you, so it only stands to reason."

My image of him blushed, but I doubt the real one did. "Jiri...Jirarudan. Do you think it's time people called you by your full name?"

That was an interesting proposition, one I hadn't considered before. The short form was often said because my full name was seen as difficult to pronounce, but that was something people would have to learn, wasn't it? "You know, mother named me. She said it came to her on the breeze. But even she would call me Jiri at times." I had walked up to the railing at the edge of the pathway, over a steep hill. A little white bird eyed me from the edge of the railing as I turned back towards Asaph, arms draped behind me over the structure. "Perhaps it's time, though. It'll certainly be more professional."

With a smile, he moved to stand beside me, startling the bird away. "Young master Jirarudan. Though the whole thing is awfully long. But I suppose that's just a title I made up anyway."

"I'm not really the master of anything yet, so just my name will suffice."

He nodded. "You'll be a superior master soon enough. I can feel it."

"By your tutelage I will." I looked out at the park, where we had come from and the area to the side. "I'll be a shining star." The last was lower than the rest of it and I wasn't sure why. "Do you say these things to Veronica?"

He was staring off at the sky again. "I believe you'll far surpass her. She is...impulsive, while you think things through. Of course, you'll keep this to yourself."

I looked up at the sky too. "She may yet surprise you. She's very dedicated and intense. I believe she can be a shining star as well, just like you told us."

I felt like he had to be smiling. "I've got faith in you both. Don't doubt that."

"I shan't."

"Haha...you're such a strange person. But that's something I love about you. You're not bound by convention. You'll pave a path of your own, just as surely as this path before us."

I glanced over to see him kick at the ground ever so slightly, fancy shoes barely dusted from the display. "And my path won't be disrupted so easily."

"Nothing will dissuade you from greatness. And that itself is greatness too."

"I'd settle for nothing less."





Our return to the ship was after an hour or so, the sun still heavy in the sky but the moon visible over the city in that peculiar way specific to late summer. The view was spectacular as always, and looking out at population centres always made me wonder about the people in them, what they considered beautiful, what they held dear. I wanted to know all of it, the vastness of it all, and take in every detail of the world.

There would be much ugliness to root out, of course, but that was to be expected in any wild experience. Even at the park, so curated and tended to, one still had to watch where one stepped. But I couldn't find more beauty in the world without the risk of being exposed to something rotten.

Asaph put a hand on my shoulder. "Lovely, isn't it?" he asked with a gesture to the view. "There's nothing quite like the Kanto region. I may roam, but I'll always return here."

"I'll have to see the world first. Who knows what could resonate with me." My hand covered his. Was that akin to holding hands? It didn't feel the same. "I've always had some degree of wanderlust, I think, and I've yet to really fill it."

"Some day you'll fly away." But his tone had changed, and I swear his hand tightened just a bit. "But you'll return to me. I know you will. I look forward to hearing about your excursions, about the wonders of the world through your eyes."

I let my own hand fall back down, and a second later he removed his from where it lay.

"Someday, Jirarudan, you'll be something truly magnificent, and I look forward to basking in your glory." But he seemed suddenly tired.

I remembered what he had said about having been up since the early hours, and wondered if that meant he would be retiring for the night once we arrived. I intended to occupy myself in his library for a while, and suspected this would be acceptable.

"We'll be back in about an hour, I think. I'm going to call ahead and let the kitchen staff know I'd like a drink when we get there. Do you want anything?"

"Oh, I suppose it's a bit much to ask for iced tea to steep in that time, but lemonade would be nice."

He winked. "Iced tea it is. I'm sure they can make it happen. They've been known to work small miracles."

"That's always admirable in a house staff," I laughed, taking a seat by the window. I knew from watching the construction process that furniture was bolted in place from underneath the flooring, though this would be an even more delicate process so as to not disturb the eyeline or muss the form of the couch. Like nearly everything in Asaph's decorative style, it was carefully chosen for the overall image of the room, and the control room had been decorated over time, away from the initial open space. The utilitarian area was transformed into something more aesthetic, with the stark foldout bed now in its own room, and I wondered what my father would say about the new walls or installations. Although it was generally understood that his ships would be greater customized by the buyer, it was a curious point regardless. It was perhaps akin to crafting a fine frame without knowing what would be displayed within.




Though I didn't care to think of my father, thoughts of him continued once we reached the mansion and were met with a notice that he had called. Although Asaph had a cellular phone, a rarity in those days, he only kept it on him if he was awaiting a professional call. But fortunately I didn't have to return the call.

The message was simple. "The float stones worked," it read, "will tell you more later. Excited to get started!"

I looked up at Asaph as I folded the note in my hand. "Well...I suppose that's fortuitous."

"We'll be talking about your acquisition soon then?" Asaph asked with a bit of a lilt. "Greatness can't be rushed, so this...alliance of ours will take some time."

"I'm certain of it."

"Good." He led me into the sitting room and closed the door behind us. "I'm eager to spend more time with you." But he seemed to hold in place, simply watching me as I stood before him, and I must have looked puzzled but he didn't respond. Gradually he bent his arms but seemed unsure what to do with them for a second before bringing his hands to my forearms, gently pinning them to my sides, and when he leaned in I expected him to kiss me again. Though I wasn't expecting the kiss to land on my forehead, or for him to immediately disengage from me. "...Our drinks are ready. We shouldn't tarry."

I followed a few steps behind him, wanting to know what else he meant, but also not wanting to ask.




After drinks, he indeed retired for the night, and I was able to spend time in his library as I wanted. He told me he had acquired a new book, a thin work on the history of the royal crowns of Kalos, and I read through it in an hour. It was nearly fifty years old, but it wasn't as though there was any new information since then. Even the photographs held up remarkably well, and were even in colour, something incredibly rare for a book of the time.

I wondered what it must be like to be of royal blood yet of a defunct line. After a time, I supposed anybody would have the blood of a king, and it would fail to matter eventually. An ancestor of mine had been a mayor, but of that tiny dot of a town, utterly meaningless even at the time. Though not to hear my father tell it. He never spoke of his own ancestry. I had no living grandparents, and both my parents were only children. In a way, I was the last of a line, but that was fine. Basing personal worth on others always seemed strange to me. We're shaped by circumstance but so much of that seemed random, and the idea of the self was almost lost to some.

It was common to live by what your parents wanted of you. That was the tradition of Kanto and surrounding regions. But at what point did the self come into play? How much of it could be based on what we wanted? What if ones' parents wanted different things? It was based in the idea of respecting ones' elders, but surely respect and obedience are different things.

In other regions, there was greater emphasis put on the individual, but no matter where you were, you still had to deal with the expectations of others. Nowhere was truly a land of free spirits, though some places claimed to be. There was always something to obey, something to adhere to, some demand someone else would put on you.

I set the book on the shelf and looked around for something that could distract me from my reverie, and settled on something Veronica had poured over before. But that only got me thinking about her, especially her strange behaviour, so I put it back too.

Maybe I could read about the noblewoman, but nothing here existed on her. There was precious little information; not even her date of birth was recorded. It always seemed to me that she was born in the spring, but I didn't really have anything to support that. It was simply a feeling I got.

My own birthday was approaching in a few months, at the end of October. I would be twelve, and the idea of a larger number was unsettling even though I craved growing up. I wanted to leave childhood behind, despite Asaph's warnings and beseechment. But I was already an adult and there was nothing that he or anybody else could do to change that. Even if he was to somehow summon Dialga, the lord of time, legends didn't indicate it could do much in the way of reversing my time or making me younger. The fabled forest spirit Celebi could, if the legends were true, return me to an earlier point in my life, but I would simply be transported to the past as I was.

Although the thought wasn't nearly as useless as all that. "I'd get to see her again," I mused, to the company of the books.

One may wonder, perhaps, why I did not pursue one of those legends. Well, the answer is simple. It would do me no good. I would either have to leave her behind to return to the present world, or leave the present world entirely. I knew even then that I could never truly save her, and to know that was heartbreaking.

I went to the guest room in silence, wondering if I would dream about her.




But no dreams, no sleep came, and I found myself back downstairs a few hours later. The staff had gone to bed, save for someone mopping the floors, but I don't think he noticed me as I headed to the kitchen for some warm milk.

Because of that, I hadn't expected to hear a voice as I entered the dining room. "Jirarudan? What are you doing awake?" It was Asaph, seemingly inevitably, but I was still startled.

"I could ask you the same." I was glad how quickly I recovered from the sudden start. "Couldn't sleep?"

He had his own drink, and swirled the glass around in a slow circle. "Not a wink. You either, I presume."

"How do you know I've gone to bed?"

"Simple." He gestured towards me. "You're dressed for it."

"We can walk about in robe and slippers at your house."

He chuckled. "But you're not usually the sort to do so in the evening. You only do in the morning."

I hadn't noticed. "Is that so? Well, perhaps I'll have to pay more attention."

A sip before he continued. "You're usually so detail-oriented."

"Entirely possible." I was aware it didn't quite make sense. "I'll be right back."

When I came back with the desired warm milk, Asaph was at the wine cabinet, pouring a small bit of what was no doubt something very expensive. He didn't look at me at first, but set the bottle back. "...Jirarudan, I have something to ask you."

"Oh, of course." I took a seat at the right hand of the table's head. "Anything."

He still didn't look at me. "Neither of us can sleep on our own. Would you like to sleep in my bed?"

I took a drought before I replied, thinking about it. Did he mean sleep, or... "I'm really quite tired. I had an upsetting thought and it's disrupting me."

He exhaled, long and low, and sat across from me. "I fully understand. My offer is only to sleep, nothing more. But I would like your company, and it seems as though you could use mine."

It wasn't his company that I wanted. But I nodded regardless.



When I finally drifted off that night, it was with Asaph's arm heavy over me, but my mind had wandered away.