There was a haze over Aidinza’s mind as he woke up, a white noise that rang in his ears while shadows clung to his vision as his head lolled, and a splitting pain dug behind his eyes. There was something blocking his mouth, and he felt something just tight enough to be noticeable around his neck.
“-mp him in Mistral Cave, if we throw him deep enough it will be a week before he manages to find anyone, and by that point he’ll just be another voice in the crowd.” Aidinza flinches as the voice hits him, piercing through the ringing. He opens his eyes, and sees the inside of a roughspun sack.
“You want to throw someone with no pokémon in Mistral Cave? He’ll starve to death.” It took a moment for Aidinza to realise that the second voice was familiar, and it took him several seconds to realise that it was Kaine’s voice. The nomad twitched his hands, realising they were tied together tightly. He had been knocked out, he realises woozily, and from the sounds of it, so had Kaine.
“You don’t have much of a place to speak here, fink.” The first voice - so harsh and rough - spat out, and an awkward silence fell over the room. “Besides, he’s Ya’an-ah, if he can survive the desert, he can survive the caves.”
“With a concussion and whatever else you do to him?” Kaine’s voice was… moving. Was he not tied down? Maybe he was tied to something… “Just let him go, I’ll talk to him, he won’t say anything.”
“If he talks to Clay, we’ll be made. No, we have to deal with him.” A third reedy male voice spoke, Blake his mind distantly noted, the man with the trash bag pokémon.
“Urgh, let him go, shove in a cave, stop being a bunch of silly heads and just kill him and throw his body into the river!” A female - Jaime? - voice spoke with a cheerful bounce that was at odds with the contents of her words. They were talking about him, he noted distantly. Talking about killing him?
“He’s just a kid.” It was strange to the addled boy's mind to hear Michael, the harsh voiced man defending him especially against Jaime threatening to kill him. He blinks his eyes, thinking for a moment that he was still unconscious.
“He’s a trainer.” The sneer in Jaime’s voice was obvious, the cheerful beat in her voice disappearing behind an ugly coating of hate. “I gave him a chance to give up his abusive ways yesterday.”
“Just give him time, he can be convinced.” Kaine's protest had an edge of nervous desperation now; he was audibly scared of Jaime. The two men were noticeably silent.
“You going to give him a little talk? ‘Oh Mr Trainer it's so normal and natural to just give up. You should really try it’.” Her voice turned childish and mocking. Was she implying… Aidinza hears her walk over to him, and rip the sack off his head. Her fingers dug into his cheek, as she grabbed his face. “Oh he looks so shocked and confused Kaine. Maybe you should explain things?”
With bleary eyes Aidinza found the lanky form of Kaine, standing unbound in the middle of the room. It took a moment for Aidinza’s eyes to clear, and he could see that the ginger man looked guilty. “What?” He managed to spill out.
“Go on. You’re usually so proud of it Kaine? Don’t you do such a good job?” Jaime bounced over to the lanky man, standing on her tippy toes to place her hand around his shoulders. Kaine freezes and stays silent. “Oh, are you not proud of it?” Her face turns angry. “You a fucking fink?”
“I… when I heard that you lost to Clay, I was trying to get you to give up on being a trainer. The speech and the story that I gave you I learned from Plasma. It’s supposed to make you want to give up.” Betrayal was a cold and burning feeling, that felt like it consumed whatever it touched and left behind only a frozen void. Aidinza stared at Kaine wide eyed.
“And how many times have you done it to other people?” Jaime presses, her lips tilting up into a smile, face dimpling cutely in a way that felt utterly at odds with the situation.
“Six times.” He admits, head hanging, and Aidinza swallows heavily. He was what, just another target for Kaine? A trainer he saw and decided looked vulnerable.
“Oh would you look at that face? I’m not sure he’s going to be too interested in listening to you anymore. Just like a trainer, the second he learns something that upsets him, is the moment he casts away his friendship.” She sneers out, and as Aidinza’s head cleared, he could not help but think that she was reaching extremely hard. “And leaving him in that cave is just going to be starving him to death, and that’s pretty cruel.”
There was a tension in the room as she tapped at her lips with her pointer finger, rocking back and forth on her feet. All three males knew what was about to happen.
“That just leaves killing him now, right?” She smiles again, looking like she had just declared they would all go for a fun trip to the pool, rather than condemning someone to death. Kaine flinches at the declaration, and even Michael and Blake looked uncomfortable. “You know it has to be done right? You aren’t going to baulk at what our cause needs, right? And after that we will all know we’re in this together.”
She glances around the room at the likewise dressed men and as her blue eyed stare crossed over them each in turn, they flinched back, muttering their agreement. It was clear she was calling the shots.
Aidinza glanced around the grungy basement, cursing for a moment that he was not even going to be done the honour of being killed under the Sun, as his heart began to race. The reality of the situation setting in. He could make out three pokeballs on a table nearby, and could tell they were his; Astazhei's pokeball had tooth marks from where Sandile had gummed on it.
He tugged at his bonds for a moment, they were tight, but maybe if he leveraged them against something he could snap them free. “Koroky, deal with him.” Aidinza froze as a deep growl filled the basement, a very familiar sound to him.
The growl of a krokorok. Aidinza’s eyes snapped to where the large form of sandile’s evolution straightened up to its full height. It was rather similar to sandile in many of its features, but rather than being quadrupedal, it was bipedal, its two front legs now two stout and powerful arms, and black spikes running down its spine and much longer tail. Its snout had lengthened, and its features strayed from the juvenile cute features of its pre-evolution, to something sharper and altogether harsher.
The pokémon was a hulking member of his species, Aidinza could tell that outright, and the reddish tinge that its beige skin had taken on hinted that the pokémon was not far from taking the plunge into being one of the mighty tyrants of the desert, a Krookodile.
Truly, life had conspired to deliver upon him a terrible death. Hidden from the sun, and at the hands of his people’s spiritual pokémon; he even had the feeling that these four would not do him the honour of proper death rites.
He tests his plastic bonds again, as the krokorok approaches, the desperate pace of his heart cooling under a sharp focus. He did not have time to find something to leverage it against, and with them tied up behind him he could not use his stomach to break them. But he might be able to jam his fingers into them and use them to snap the plastic. It would probably be more likely to mangle his hand, but his desperate mind could come up with little else.
He managed to stab a thumb into the sharp gap, before the room exploded into action. First was Kaine, it seemed that he had had some sort of change of heart, or just could not let someone he knew personally get killed right in front of him. Whatever the reason, the lanky man shoved himself past a shocked Blake, and closed his hand around one of Aidinza’s pokéballs.
The krokorok acted second, whirling around to face Kaine, and lunging forward, fire flickering to life between its wickedly sharp teeth.
Third, was the basement door smashing open, revealing a sight that Aidinza was unable to process for several seconds. The sock-bunned girl standing there, with intense, focused eyes was the last person that Aidinza would have expected to be here.
Two twin flashes of red filled the basement, as Rosa took less than a moment to process the situation and Kaine hit the release on Sandile’s pokéball.
“Servine Leaf Blade.” Rosa’s voice was icy, and before the red flash had even ceased illuminating the room, a sharp green glow replaced it, as a serpentine body blurred across the room, and slammed its tail into the krokorok.
“Koroky! Fire Fang!” The flicker of flame that Aidinza had seen a moment ago turned into a burning inferno contained in the bipedal desert croc’s mouth, as it grabbed onto Servine’s body, and lunged downwards to bite down on its body.
“Sandile.” Aidizna snapped out, before freezing as he struggled to think of what he would actually have the younger croc do. Luckily, Sandile was far more on the ball than his trainer, and a moment later he smashed into his older cousin, forcing it to drop the grass snake.
Servine wasted no time in taking advantage of the opening, vines bursting from it’s form and wrapping around the krokorok, and bodily tossing it deeper into the basement, the ground-type flying past where Blake had restrained Kaine, and Jaime was staring at him with a lethal slant to her face. She seemed so caught up in Kaine that she was ignoring the fight going on a few metres from her, as she pulled a switchblade out of her pocket, the steel wickedly sharp as she twirled it through her fingers.
“Sandile, Sand Tomb around Kaine!” Aidinza hoped that the ginger man understood his reasoning, the oncoming sand bath would not be pleasant for him, but it would certainly be better for him than a knife to the stomach.
Sandile wasted no time in obeying, the room was full of dust and sand, and though much of it was moist, there was more than enough for Sandile’s purposes. A moment later, a pained scream fills the basement, and Blake is forced away from Kaine, as the lanky man disappears behind a swirl of rough sand.
The Ya'an-ah boy forces himself to his feet, as Servine and the krokorok clash again, Rosa ordering a leaf tornado that fills the entire room with harsh wind. He stumbled over to a nearby table, bracing his hands against the outcropped wood, and in a single sharp motion, freed himself.
He turns to see Sandile locked in a fight with a barely conscious rubbish pokemon, and a fierce looking Watchog, the upright red and yellow lined pokemon keeping Sandile at bay with a three pronged attack, using its arms, its legs, and its long prehensile tail in a confusing assault.
“Flex on it.” Aidinza snaps out, glancing to where Rosa had advanced in the room, and was proving more than a match for the krokorok, even with Jaime having taken over actually ordering it, now that she was denied Kaine’s blood. He catches sight of Sandile flexing for a moment, before he turned his attention to his other two pokéballs, Astazhei’s had been knocked onto the ground and getting it would see him kneeling down and half wedging himself between a table and some sort of cabinet. Far more vulnerable than he was comfortable with. But Naazin’s pokéball was just sitting on the table.
He snatches the ball, and releases the clauncher in front of him, seeing the red-white pokémon scuffed up, and favouring his left legs, but clearly pissed, if the way it threw itself into battle against the krokorok was to be judged, a corona of water forming around him, as he entered the fastest Aqua Jet Aidinza had ever seen.
It seemed Naazin had his own idea on how he wanted to contribute to the fight, and Aidinza was fine to leave it to him, as he turned back to where Sandile was fighting. The desert croc had not been idle, his powerful jaws had closed around the midsection of the Watchog, thrashing him about and slamming him into the ground over and over, as he focused on a second Sand Tomb that consumed the trash bag.
It was a strangely savage way of fighting that Aidinza was not used to seeing from Sandile. Battles usually had an undercurrent of not quite safety, but security in them. This on the other hand was chaotic, and brutal. The scent of blood fills the air, as Sandile releases the Watchog and it is sent slamming into the wall.
Then, with a single sharp whistle, it was over. A strange green jelly-like creature appears with a white flash, and disappears with another, taking with it Jaime, as the krokorok dug into the earth, disappearing in moments.
Leaving Michael and Blake behind. The two men shared a glance, as three pokémon and two trainers turned their attention to them.
Wisely, considering that Sandile alone had dominated the two pokémon they had sent out to contribute to the fight, the two men returned their pokémon, and raised their hands up.
A universal gesture of surrender.
Aidizna glanced at Rosa, subconsciously looking for direction from the girl he had met barely a week ago. But she was ignoring him, mouth twisted into a scowl as she stared at where Jaime had just disappeared, one she turned onto the two men.
“Empty your pockets, and get on the ground with your hands behind your head.” There was no disobeying the whip-sharp command in her voice, and even Aidinza found himself compelled to obey. The two men did not even bother exchanging a glance, emptying out their pockets quickly, and kneeling on the floor. “That includes you too.” She shoots towards Kaine, freshly revealed from the sand tomb he had been covered by.
The man was in quite the state, skin rubbed red and bloody by the rough sand. But he did not protest, just getting onto his knees.
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Then, once the three of them had assumed the position, Rosa ordered Servine to properly restrain them, and pulled something rectangular out of her pocket, tapping into it, much like Clay did on his phone.
Aidinza listened for a moment as she addressed someone on the other end, a ‘Doc J’ of some kind, which Aidinza knew was some form of healer. It made sense to him, Kaine was bleeding a great deal. Though he personally would have gone with informing an Elder, or even Honoured Leader Clay.
With her distracted, and the three men restrained, Aidinza turns to retrieve Astazhei’s pokéball. It was as he was clipping it to his belt, and rising to his feet, that he glanced over his shoulder and found Rosa looming over him. Freezing awkwardly, he looked up to meet her blue eyes, half bent legs shaking underneath him slightly.
“You will be sticking around to give a statement.” She informed him, before her brow furrowed and she tilted her head and stepped closer, examining him. And trapping him in his awkward half crouched position. “Do I know you?”
“We fought a week ago.” He tries to lean back from her, uncomfortable with the fact he could smell her flowery perfume punctuated by her sweat. But his awkward position meant that all he could do was crouch lower.
“You don’t look like someone I beat.” She looked genuinely confused at that, and Aidinza could not help but think that she genuinely did just assume if she had fought someone that she had beat them.
“You didn’t beat me.” Her thin eyebrow arcs at that, disappearing behind a new hat accessory, and she looked at him from another angle. Then her face fell, and she rolled her eyes.
“Oh the rufflet kid. You know if I fought you seriously, and not a one on two you would have stood no cha-.”
“Thank you.” Aidinza interrupts, wanting to get his gratitude out there before she sours it into him wishing that the krokorok had been given a minute longer. “You saved my life.” He tries to give her a grateful smile, but looking over his shoulder as he was, he was not sure if it translated well.
“O-oh um well think n-nothi-.” She for some reason goes crimson, stuttering for a moment before she pauses and takes a deep breath. “Che, of course I did, a hopeless trainer like you needs someone experienced like me to make sure you don’t drown yourself in a bucket of water or something.”
Aidinza blinks and stares blankly at the girl, who merely jut out her chin proudly. He wonders if she even registered how ridiculous what she said was, or if she just assumed it came out right.
“Right.” The two of them stared at each other awkwardly for a few moments longer, him baffled, and her… amused? With his legs really starting to burn from the awkward position, Aidinza decided it was high time to get her to no longer have her pin him to the wall. “Can I stand up please?”
She blinked at that, and Aidinza was now sure that that was a smug look in her eyes, as her lips tilted into a condescending smile. “I know you’re grateful, but you don’t have to dedicate your whole life to me, you can do simple things without asking me.”
Aidinza straightened up, the swift movement sending the girl stumbling backwards slightly, arms pinwheeling out by her side, as the nearly a head taller Aidinza stood over her.
“Che, didn’t your mum ever teach you to not get physical with women?” She complained, as she finally stepped away.
He let this woman save his life. He harshly regretted that. He glances over towards Naazin and Sandile. Naazin was watching the three men with startling intensity, but Sandile was watching the byplay with the two trainers, and Aidinza could easily read the amusement on the reptile's scuffed face. Everyone was enjoying his discomfort today it seemed.
But he does not dwell on that for long, turning to Kaine, bound on the floor in vines. He was still bleeding, a small puddle of blood forming as it dripped from his skin-stripped arm. The Ya’an-ah stared at the blood for a moment. For a single insane moment, he found himself analysing the order to cover him in Sand Tomb. He could have ordered a Sand Attack instead, blinding Jaime. Or tried to pull off a similar trick to the platforms against Clay’s baltoy, just smaller.
He shakes his head slightly, but his eyes fell back to the blood nonetheless. He should do something about that, probably. He had been taught the basics of treating wounds from sandstorms, how to wash out the sand and staunch the deep abrasions. He should step forward and do what he could to treat the man.
He should.
But there was a still ambivalence that stayed his hand, a lack of drive to move forward. He was scared to look too deep at it, scared to touch the pulsating hurt that was buried under adrenaline, and willful disassociation.
Would the feeling remain ambivalent, if he addressed his feelings right here, right now? Would he find himself driven to do something he would regret? Was he already doing something that he would regret, with his inaction? Which way would he regret, not doing something to help.
Or not doing something to prevent his recovery.
Thankfully, that was the moment the door was slammed open again, and the large form of a furious Clay glared down into the room.
“Now all yall better hope that you have good excuses.”
-
The Driftveil Police Station overlooked the entire city, perched on the cliff which a quarter of the city was carved into.
Perhaps most importantly to Aidinza, it overlooked the docks, where the league had taken over, and was out in full force. Hundreds of people, hundreds of trainers cordoned off several massive boats, enforced by hulking pokémon, or imposing spectres that sent a shiver up Aidinza’s spine just looking at, even from this distance.
But the main attraction was pokémon that swarmed over the boats themselves, the blue-black figure of Swoobat, the strange brown pokémon Mark had - Beheeyem he remembered distantly - and even the green pokémon that had disappeared with Jaime.
He was also sure that he saw spectres flicker through the hulls of the ships, disappearing or reappearing at random.
“The League’s out in force.” Aidinza glances over his shoulder to see Silt standing there, alongside a strange, serpentine creature, with coiled pouches twisted down its body. “They… ah can’t really afford to do anything else?” His voice took on the same rising inflection of the first time they met, and Aidinza could already tell this conversation was going to be awkward.
“Have they not found the danger?” Aidinza asks, as he watches another team of trainers step onto the boat.
“Nah? I mean yeah? Like Uncle located the three bombs pretty early on. It’s just like… this is the only port we have left. Can’t let anyone think The League won’t come down with all the force of a Dragon Rush.” He grins at that, looking pleased at something. Though Aidinza was not sure at what.
“Bombs?” He had read up on some pokémon moves that shared the name, but had not exactly felt compelled to research it further.
“Yeah, like boom.” He pulls his hands away from each other, as he makes an odd crinkly sound with his mouth. “Someone set them up to scuttle the ships, and all three were scheduled to head out to open sea at the same time. I reckon that they were trying to block the entire river mouth, making it impassable.”
Well this was turning out less awkward than he expected, and far more informative. “Why would someone try that?”
“Well like I said, this is our only port really, certainly the only one allowed to receive international cargo. Consequences of losing I guess.” He shrugs, and rubs at the back of his neck. “And a lot of Unova relies on it for the economy. Castelia and Nimbasa would starve if we weren’t getting imports to support them, and Mistralton and Icirrus would be forced to entirely rely on their own pretty scarce farmlands.”
“Lot of damage then.” He had seen Castelia from a distance, and oftentimes found himself wondering how the massive city could manage to support itself. With the Ya’an-ah desert above it, and nothing but sea below it…
Even if they plundered the sea, it surely could not be enough? The Ya’an-ah struggled to support their population at times, and they had the entirety of their desert to feed from.
But perhaps the massive cargo ships would have enough food to sustain the blot of light on the south horizon.
“Lots of damage.” He agreed, and glanced over his shoulder. “We might have had to beg the National League, or maybe even worse, Ferrum for aid.”
“Silt!” The just named boy jumped out of his skin, as Clay’s voice boomed out from inside the police station. “I said grab the kid, not have a mothers meeting with him.”
“Er S-sorry Uncle!” He calls back, with all the same volume, but lacking the certainty that saw Clay’s voice shaking buildings. “Uh, yeah Uncle wants to talk to you.” He gestures quickly towards the door to the police station then steals away, nervous feet making quick strides.
Aidinza watches the boy’s retreating back for a moment, wondering what his life must be like, for him to be so vastly different from his uncle. For the slightest of chastisement to see him redden with embarrassment? For that moment, he felt some of his dislike of putting up with the Driftveil gym trainer spilled away, under a curiosity of just who Silt was.
But he dragged his mind out of that quick enough, an Honoured Leader had requested his presence, and Aidinza was not ill-raised enough to leave him waiting.
Inside the police station was bedlam, the same bedlam that had driven him outside for fresh air, and an unclustered view. Dozens of men and women filted around, clad in various stages in a blue uniform. Noise crashed down on Aidinza like a storm, sending a harsh whine ringing through his ears, and a headache pulsing to life as his muscles tensed. It was different to the noise at Nimbasa Gym, where the noise had been formless. This was anything but formless, the shouts and demands were pointed. Each important in their own ways, each conveying information. This did not just leave him lightheaded, this saw him panicked and nervous.
Something that the officers inside seemed to pick up on, if the side eyes he was getting was to be read into.
Pushing through into the conference room on the second floor, where Clay had taken over, was relieving in a way that saw his tension headache draining away. Inside Clay sat cross-armed, and stern-faced at the head of a long table; a figure that dominated the room he was in easily. Across from him, at the other end of the long table was Rosa lounging over the chair with a fist propping up her cheek.
“Boy.” Clay nodded at Aidinza, before gesturing at the table, and Aidinza eyed it, wondering where exactly he was supposed to sit. Sitting at Clay’s right hand was out of the question, improper in a way that Aidinza would never allow himself, but sitting near Rosa was as unappealing as ever.
“Honoured Leader.” Aidinza bowed slightly, before he let the silence in the air grow too long. Not willing to be too presumptuous, and not willing to sit too close to the girl borderline swinging on her chair, he took a seat dead centre between the two.
“Yer statement seems to line up with the others, but I wanted to ask a few questions, just personal curiosity.” Clay drawls out, dark eyes scanning over Aidinza for a moment. The nomad nods, having expected that when he was told to wait around after he had written down everything.
“Now, in yer statement, you mention that you heard sounds of ‘several muffled, but heated voices’ after you knocked for the second time?” Aidinza nods silently, fiddling with the cloth of his poncho. “Now you then say that you heard a violent crash, and moved inside. It is then that you heard the voices clearly, and heard the homeowner’s voice ‘swirl with an eddy of fear’ and after that poetic realisation, you moved downstairs and found the homeowner, and two plasma-garbed men, correct?”
“Yes, honoured leader.” The frown lines on Clay’s face deepen, as he leans back in his chair and turns his attention onto where Rosa was still lounging back in her chair.
“Now that makes sense to me, you heard a scuffle through a door, and investigated. The noises were muffled and you could only hear them at the doorstep.” Aidinza nodded along with the Gym Leader's drawl, despite Clay not looking at him, in favour of scowling at Rosa’s feet, as she propped them up on the table. “Now, with that in consideration. How do you, across the street, hear anything girl.”
“I saw some of the neighbours concerned about the noises coming from the house while walking down the street, and like I said in my statement, I investigated.” Rosa’s tone would have her hide tanned by an elder. The way she rolled her eyes would see her spending a night freezing outside the tents to learn respect.
Aidinza was not impressed, and judging by the deepening scowl on Clay’s face, he was not either.
“Now from the statements given by the homeowner, young mister Aidinza was out for a minute thirty, and the medical officer's initial report on his neurological situation supports that.” For a long moment, Clay fell silent, just staring Rosa down, as she squirmed underneath his gaze. “My question then becomes, why exactly you barged into a home, not hearing any sort of scuffle after a mere minute thirty?”
Rosa slowly lowers her feet from the conference table, her blue eyes narrowing. “What exactly are you implying Clay?” Aidinza’s eyes flick between the two of them, feeling a mounting tension.
“The only reason yer still in my city, Trainer Rosa, is that I was assured that yer string of breaking and entering was simply a misunderstanding. I want to make sure that yer not attempting to repudiate that.” There was a flash of something across Rosa’s face, something there and gone so fast that Aidinza could not be sure that it was there at all. But if he was forced to name what he saw, he would have to say hurt. Or maybe mortification.
“Honoured Leader, are you trying to accuse Rosa of breaking the law?” It was clear that neither of the two expected his interjection, and it was shockingly in sync the way that they turned their stares onto him.
“Trainer Rosa in her barely more than a week stay in my city, has been written up for seven accounts of trespassing and one account of breaking and entering. It is only the testimony and assurance of Professor Juniper that it would not happen again that saw me dismiss the case.” As Gym Leader Clay spoke, his attention left Aidinza to return to Rosa. It was very clear his entire speech was meant for her. “Her entering the property without due cause leaves me suspicious that perhaps I should revisit her actions prior.”
That in many ways, should have been that for Aidinza. At home, with the Naisho’h, that would be that. An Elder had spoken. It was his duty and expectation to bow his head and let them carry on as they decided. That aside, Aidinza did not particularly like Rosa. She was arrogant and rude. Without manners or respect, even to someone as respected as an Honoured Leader “If she hadn’t come in I would be dead.”
“I’m not so certain that those extenuating circumstances apply to her thinking at the time. Her statement, and the Home Owners statement, imply that it was not a reasonable belief of a crime in process that led her to entering the property.” Clay stares down at the teen girl who for the first time seemed to be wilting underneath the glare.
But that being said. This dressing down felt… ingenuine to Aidinza. Ya'an-ah elders were not always fair, but they always did what they felt was best, or easiest to resolve a situation and only that situation. But here, there was an undertone, a backstory and motivation beyond the surface that sat ill with Aidinza.
“In the Ya’an-ah desert, we do not cut away a child’s hand for stealing water for a dying man.” Aidinza’s green eyes came to meet the Honoured Leader’s, placid, yet bright. “To steal is wrong, but to teach that they should leave someone to die of thirst is worse. That’s a truth above even the Sun.”
A silence hung in the air after the young man's declaration, and he could feel Rosa’s stare digging into the side of his head, as he calmly maintained eye contact with Gym Leader Clay, trying to discern the curly haired man’s thoughts.
But Clay was stone, unreadable and unmoving, as his brown eyes slowly scanned the young nomads face. Slowly Clay’s eyes grew darker and more distant, a haunting shadow of some past flickering over him and giving his stare a weight that quickly grew uncomfortable for the young Nomad.
Then the man snorted, and turned his attention back to Rosa. “I want you out of my city, and so help you Arceus if I have reason to believe you trespass on any of my citizens property.” The large man just lets the threat hang in the air, before his lips twitch slightly. “Now both of you get out of here.”
Aidinza wasted no time in leaving, the uncomfortable weight of Clay’s stare lingering on his shoulders, and in moments he was standing in the long plain-white hallways of the police station.
“You know, I didn’t reckon you would have the balls to say anything back there. But have to admit, you proved me wrong Sandy.” Sandy? Aidinza looked over his shoulder, to where Rosa was leaning against the wall, smugly smirking as what seemed her standard, seemingly having recovered her composure at some point. “Course, I could have dealt with it, but good to know that chivalry isn’t dead.”
It was almost enough to break Aidinza’s placid politeness, almost enough to break his reservation with those outside the harsh comfort of his mother desert.
“It’s impressive that you are unpleasant enough to make me regret that.” Well, it seemed that he overestimated his own restraint. The lapse in self control only seemed to amuse Rosa however, her left eyebrow arching.
“Oooh the little sandshrew has claws after all.” Rosa claws at the air, in some odd pantomime that Aidinza could hardly begin to guess at the reason for. He sighs, turning to face her fully, and runs a hand through his vivid red locks.
“What are you trying to do?” Aidinza gestures with his hands first towards the girl, and then into the air in helpless confusion. “Are you trying to be annoying? Do you want me to go back to Clay and convince him he should punish you?”
“That would be funny, got any truths above the sun that go the other way?” Rosa pushes off the wall, and crosses the few steps between her and him getting uncomfortably close. Her clear blue eyes glittering alongside the knowing smirk on her face. “You know, you don’t have to make up cultural sayings to impress a girl.”
“I did not make anything up?” Aidinza’s voice grew in pitch as he puzzled through whatever in the world Rosa was implying, his brow knitting together slowly.
“Uhuh, you just happened to have a desert saying that everyone knows and is super crucial to your people or whatever that was perfect for just that moment.” She tosses her head, her twin tails trailing in the air before she gives Aidinza another strange look. “Gotta say Sandy.” Aidinza blinks slowly. “You’re much quicker on your feet than your dumb face implies.”
“It is the moral of one of the many stories of Bi At Ini, one teaching that context matters, and that even those highest may learn something as a fundamental truth.” Aidinza met Rosa’s knowing stare with an even stare, frustration masked behind evenness. “It is a story and lesson steeping in millenia of tradition. Learned and proven in bloody sand, and sick starvation.”
That seemed to have thrown Rosa off balance, whatever her perception of how the conversation would go splintering under his unamused stare.
“Uh, right.” An awkward silence fell between the two of them, before Aidinza stepped away, glancing towards the exit.
“Try not to annoy any more gym leaders.” He manages, before he turns away fully, and walks towards the stairs that would get him out of this situation.
“You too Sandy!” There was a very, very long moment where Aidinza was tempted to just leave it at that, ignore her and just get on with his life. But something about the name Sandy just rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe it had to do with him being proud of the name, it was a strong name, of both the Sun and of heroism. Maybe it sat wrong with him, the idea that someone could save his life and either not know his name, or not use it. Maybe it was because Sandy sounded so very stupid.
“It’s Aidinza.” He does not even glance over his shoulder, a moment of rudeness, a moment to ask for forgiveness for later, was well worth the price of just getting out of here. Away from deceitful ‘friends’, crazed criminals, strange subtext, weighty stares, and weird girls.
By the Sun, if he did not get out of here soon, he might actually start regretting not just staying in Nimbasa.
Aidinza pauses as that thought passes his mind and palms his face, hiding his mouth from view as a question hits him. Were all cities going to be like this? Is this what he had to look forward to for months?
It was a question that haunted him, as he headed back to the Pokémon centre.