Monday, June 19th, 1978, 2030
As they set down their now empty glasses, a moment of thoughtful silence overtook the table while they pondered Kuon’s words. It wasn’t uncomfortable, per se. Dani could simply feel everyone processing it in their own ways.
She wondered what Mare and Ellie thought of the story, unsure what to think of the toast herself. On one hand, it felt like a powerful warning; fear of losing something in the throes of violence. But on the other, it felt simply like words of regret; the musings of an aging man grieving a lost companion.
It rubbed her the wrong way; she was certain Kuon was no stranger to violence, having directly or indirectly killed thousands in his many years of leadership. It felt hypocritical for him to be warning them away from such a path when he rose to power in similar fashion. Some people had to lose their humanity for others to retain theirs, she was certain.
The silence broke as Liza cleared her throat, drawing their attention. “Kuon, dear, would you pour us another round and send for the main course?”
The man nodded wordlessly, moving around the table to pour another round. After sitting back down, he gestured to one of his retainers before directing his attention back to his wife with eyes filled with sorrow.
Liza smiled in gratitude, folding one of her hands lovingly over her husbands. “Thank you, dear. I’m sorry about Adrien. I know you loved him despite his many flaws. But I’m sure he didn’t go down without a fight.”
“Yes, I did,” Kuon croaked out. His eyes were wet, but he gave no indication of noticing or caring. “And no, he didn’t. I can feel it.”
Dani felt viscerally uncomfortable; it was as if they were intruding on a moment they had no right to witness—especially considering they played a part in the man’s death. She didn’t feel guilty, however, even with the newfound knowledge of his losses at the hands of the Johtans.
Everyone experienced loss, although there were always differences in the gravity of such events. It hardly gave Adrien the right to take it out on people, trauma be damned. It wasn’t like her father’s suicide gave her the excuse to hate all Gym Leaders just because they crushed his dreams of making it to the conference. Not that it was that simple, anyway. He had failed his family by neglecting to take care of himself and that was all there was to it.
Liza must have picked up on her discomfort, turning to the rest of the table. “My apologies; please excuse my husband his grief. Let us turn to lighter subjects, yes?”
“No apologies necessary, Liza,” said Mare softly, surprising Dani.
She looked over at him in confusion, finding him appearing as emotional as he had been the first night they met, crying after his sister’s match when realizing he had wanted her to fail.
Mare’s eyes glistened with tears, seeming genuinely despondent at Kuon’s loss despite the man doing his best to eliminate them, not to mention the minor incident of what basically amounted to torture.
Or he’s a much better actor than I gave him credit for, she mused before quickly discounting the notion. There was no way Mare could fake something like this. Dani had expected him to take the new information the hardest considering how angry he was at her for eliminating the threats, but that didn’t appear to be the case.
Mare continued; his voice somber. “The toast was well received. A prudent warning considering the gravity of the situation surrounding Kiriel’s current objectives for Ellie and me.” He glanced at Dani, giving a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “And now, Dani as well. Thank you for sharing, Kuon.”
“Of course, Mare,” replied Kuon, his eyes regaining some of their luster as he looked at his ‘nephew’ gratefully. “I hope it helps you in some small way.”
“I concur with my son,” seconded Kiriel. “I’m sorry for your loss. Your message hit home; I find myself feeling ever more determined to do whatever I have to in order to deter the tides of public opinion.”
“Thanks, little Kiri,” Kuon said with a wink, laughing as he noticed Kiriel’s face twitch at what Dani assumed was a nickname from a different era. The man was clearly feeling better if he was willing to tease the adder of Fuchsia, of all people. She doubted he would have said such a thing if Kiriel wasn’t acting so differently from usual.
“Not at all,” replied Kiriel with a small smile, earning an even wider grin from Kuon.
Dani glanced at Mare, wondering how he would take the interaction. Between her prior knowledge of the clan head and Mare’s stories, she doubted he had seen his mother so… soft?
Dani wasn’t disappointed; his eyebrows nearly touched his hairline in surprise, and she suppressed a grin at the sight. Although if it was surprise at the nickname, or surprise that Kiriel had taken the teasing gracefully, she couldn’t tell.
The moment was interrupted as the staff arrived with their second course. The meal appeared to be an array of brightly colored sashimi and sushi, once again served family style in the middle of the table. There were several bowls of different dipping sauces, and they were all provided with numerous ramakin.
“A fresh catch from Vermilion Bay—nothing fancy,” explained Liza as she stocked her plate with vibrant fish. “I assume you’ve been eating the same freeze-dried rations soldiers have eaten for decades, so a clean meal like this will do you wonders.”
“So true,” muttered Mare with a shudder as he filled his own plate. “The food is the worst part about traveling. And the lack of beds. And showers.”
“You make it sound like you don’t even like traveling,” quipped Ellie. “Such a complainer.”
Mare snorted. “Nonsense. Just because it’s annoying to not have amenities doesn’t mean I don’t like traveling. I’ve just eaten a lot of freeze-dried rations over the years. Wait til we’re a few months in and talk to me again. Doing something despite not liking aspects of it is part of growing up.”
“I don’t think they’re so bad,” replied Ellie around a bite of fish. “I really like the spaghetti one, personally. It’s better than what I can make at home if I’m being honest with myself, which is low-key pretty pathetic.”
“Oh, that one is a favorite of mine as well,” noted Kiriel. “Although I’m also partial to the macaroni and cheese. I think it tastes the most authentic out of them all.”
“I like that one too,” agreed Dani, finding herself oddly happy that she and Kiriel shared the same favorite despite feeling wary of the woman.
“It’s good to see you kids aren’t too entitled, even if you complain too much. Soldier’s rations are good enough for anybody, taste be damned,” boomed Kuon. “Kids these days have gone soft. Nothing like when we were children. Isn’t that right, Kiri?”
Kiriel shrugged, cocking her head thoughtfully. “Yes and no. I can certainly see how you might think that, but I think it’s a good thing. Why did we fight if not so children could grow up with a better life than our own?”
Beside her, Dani felt Mare bristle at the comment. His whole body seemed tense, and he looked about to say something before deciding against it, roughly stuffing some raw fish into his mouth.
What was he going to say? wondered Dani. Why doesn’t he just say it?
“Huh. Seems odd of you to say that, Miss Seiichi,” said Ellie, drawing a look of surprise from Mare and a frown from Kiriel. Across the table Liza coughed on a bite of fish as Kuon looked on in amusement.
“What do you mean?” asked Kiriel, tone colder than it had been the entire dinner. She turned towards her Dani. “Dani, did you not grow up in relative comfort in Fuchsia? I do my best to ensure the population has excellent education, healthcare, and personally subsidize food costs to reduce the burden on families.”
Why can’t you keep your Arceus damned mouth shut, Ellie!? she fumed internally. Are you trying to start a fight?
Dani finished up her bite of dinner, washing it down with a drink of water as she considered her answer, not wanting to offend Kiriel in any way.
“I wouldn’t say that it was bad, exactly. I doubt it’s easy to manage a province the size of Fuchsia,” she eventually answered, feeling confident her response wasn’t too inflammatory.
“Not bad, exactly?” quoted Kiriel. “Care to elaborate?”
“Well, I don’t know,” faltered Dani as she tried to recover from the cool reception. “It’s pretty good, I guess?”
“Speak freely, please. I doubt you’re aware of the current political situation, but I’m currently on hiatus from my position at the Gym due to riots in Fuchsia. I am all ears at any suggestions you might have,” clarified Kiriel. “As a native Fuchsian, your opinion holds great weight to me.”
Riots? Kiriel is taking leave in the first month of the season? Dani reeled at the influx of new information. Although Kiriel was never loved like some Gym Leaders, she was very well respected, and Dani found it difficult to believe there were riots, of all things. There had to have been something else going on.
“I can’t say that I am—and I’d love to hear more about what’s going on a different day. As to your question, I can only really speak for myself. I personally found the public school system lacking, and there were hardly any resources for those struggling with non-physical ailments,” answered Dani. “Although we never wanted for food despite my parents not making much money. It’s not like working as a librarian and a moderately successful trainer really brings home the bacon.” She frowned, remembering the pitiful payments her father had sent home every month.
“Non-physical ailments? What do you mean?” asked Kiriel with a look of confusion.
“Like mental health type stuff, obviously,” interjected Ellie—the cause of this whole line of conversation. “But that wasn’t what I meant in the first place.”
“Mental health. Interesting. I can’t say I’ve given it much thought, but I’ll add it to the list of things to work on,” said Kiriel, clearly skeptical of the new suggestion. She sighed, rubbing her temple. “Arceus knows I need whatever help I can get at this point. Thank you for your insight, Dani. I’d love to hear more about it during your stay if you’re willing?”
Dani nodded, not wanting to get into the issue at the moment, but Kiriel’s reaction seemed to indicate the concept of mental-health care was foreign to her. Maybe it is, she realized. I doubt it was something that got much attention when Kiriel was growing up, and it would make sense considering her complete lack of understanding regarding Mare.
“And if that wasn’t what you meant, could you please clarify?” asked Kiriel, directing her question to Ellie this time with an expectant look.
“Sure!” replied Ellie brightly. “I just meant that it seems odd of you specifically to say that because it doesn’t seem like you apply it much to yourself or your own family. You know what I mean? No offense.”
At Ellie’s comment, Mare literally spat out whatever he was eating, earning a laugh from Kuon and frowns from Kiriel and Liza, although the latter looked more curious than upset.
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
“Sorry,” he wheezed, chugging down some water. “I just had something in my throat. Please, continue.”
Tauros shit, thought Dani, turning her attention back to the ongoing conversation.
“I don’t think I understand your point,” said Kiriel, her voice icy. “Are you implying that I am somehow not caring for my own family? As you have seen for yourself, Mare and Sula are perfectly healthy and want for little. In fact I’d go so far as to say they have far better lives than the average person in Kanto.”
Ellie blanched at Kiriel’s tone. “Nonono. I didn’t mean to say that you don’t care, exactly. Just more that Mare and Sula seem anything but soft, as Kuon was saying. That’s all. They seem like they’ve had a hard life in some ways, but not in others. Things can be hard in different ways, right?”
Kiriel scoffed. “A hard life? What could possibly make you say that? Excellent training, diets, and housing. Well-bred, obedient pokemon. The opportunity to travel the world. The list goes on.”
“Right,” agreed Ellie as she dipped some sashimi into what looked like a mix of wasabi and soy sauce. “But when is the last time you just did something…” she paused, searching for the right word, gesturing with the meat. “Normal. Fun. Ya know? There’s more to having a good life than just having all the pieces that make up a good life. It’s not like people are happy just because they have their basic needs met.” She looked at Kuon and shrugged. “Well, most people, anyway.”
“Fun,” breathed Kiriel. “An interesting concept. One that I can’t say I’ve had much luxury to afford in my life. I’m uncertain, frankly, as to the last time I did something purely for enjoyment. I personally find satisfaction in carrying out my duties to the greatest degree possible. I enjoy training, battling, and improving things around my demesne.” She looked at Mare expectantly as she handed her empty plate to one of the attendants. “Is it not the same for you, Mare?”
Mare looked about as uncertain as Dani had ever seen him. He was clearly hesitant to say anything. “I…” he started before trailing off. “I guess? I don’t really know. That’s all that I’ve really done much of. How can you tell if you truly enjoy something if you didn’t choose it for yourself? Not that I don’t enjoy training or battling, but enjoyment is different than fun in a weird way. It’s hard to explain.”
To that, Kiriel had no response, simply staring off to the side, looking deep in thought.
“What a great question!” interjected Liza, clearly trying to save the flagging conversation. Dani noticed Mare shoot a look of gratitude towards the older woman, his body relaxing back into his seat beside her. “What do you kids do for fun? Let’s start with Ellie and work our way around the table.”
“There are so many things!” gushed Ellie. “I like shopping, and having sleep overs with my friends, and swimming, and painting my nails, and watching pokemon contests. And I guess I liked battling? It was weird. It wasn’t fun like other things, but I definitely want to do it again. But I need to get better so my pokemon don’t get so hurt. I hated that.”
“That’s quite the list,” commented Kiriel with a subdued smile. “This dinner is proving to be very educational.”
Kuon snorted. “I suspected that might be the case. Nothing like some fresh perspectives to shake things up. What about you, Dani? What are your favorite things to do?”
“Well, pokemon training obviously. I wouldn’t be here for a second run through the circuit if I wasn’t passionate about it,” answered Dani, thinking of her other hobbies. “I was on the swim team in school, and I like climbing as well. I don’t mind a good book if there isn’t anything going on, either. I also worked as a lifeguard at Fuchsia City Beach during the off season, and I found that to be fun even if I still didn’t get a tan.”
“How lovely! It sounds like you’re very active—you must have found the rigors of the road easy to adapt to,” said Liza with a comforting smile. “Although I don’t necessarily think that the younger generations have grown soft, they are certainly made of different material than what Kuon and I grew up with, which I think is completely fine. Kanto is clearly growing well.”
“Thanks,” Dani said, unsure of how to take the comment. Was that a compliment, or a judgment? “What were people like when you were kids? All of you seem to have very different experiences.”
“Oh, I can answer that, easily,” replied Kuon with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It’s simply that all of the things you describe are choices. Luxuries. Things that you can choose to do or not to do. When I was your age, I had no option but to be conscripted into the military. The clans were vying for supremacy, and every young man was a soldier and every young woman a potential mother. Just like my father before me, I was expected to fight and die in defense of our territory. It’s a wonder I’ve made it this long.”
Dani pondered his answer. It made sense, she supposed. There were naturally more choices as the average quality of life increased. If people weren’t forced into such dire circumstances, it only made sense they would grow softer, if she were to use their term. Happier, if she were to put a word to it. Although the same space for happiness to grow also left a gap for malcontent to creep in.
“Does that mean you would prefer if things were more like that?" asked Mare. “The way you talk about it sounds like you miss the ‘olden days’.”
“Oh no,” Kuon shook his head. “Nothing so dramatic. I just think that we’ve gotten perhaps a bit too comfortable with things; that’s all. Regardless, it’s your turn, Mare. What do you do for fun? Even if it’s not something you chose for yourself, I’m sure you still have things you find fun.”
“Just to clarify, it’s not as if Mare has had no say in what he does,” interjected Kiriel defensively before the boy in question could respond. “I’ll admit, he’s certainly had less freedoms than other people his age, but he’s still had plenty of choices within the scope of his training.”
“Like what?” shot back Mare skeptically. “I’m very curious to hear what choices you think I’ve had.”
“Your pokemon, for one. You picked Eon and Nana out of nearly fifty options from several different regions, including hard to find pokemon such as Beldum or Bagon. I would’ve offered a Dratini if it were available at the time, but the Blackthorn’s had a stranglehold at the time.” Her lips quirked up into a smile. “As much as I tried to push you toward some of the rarer species, you were adamant to have a Growlithe and an Eevee after growing up watching Kuro and Eva,” continued Kiriel. “It was very cute, actually. And you’ve seemed more than happy with your choices. Correct me if you’re dissatisfied with your charges.”
“Okay, that’s all true,” admitted Mare with a slight blush, even if he was frowning. “And I wouldn’t trade Eon and Nana for anything. What else?”
“Did you forget about all of your music lessons? I had no intention of forcing you to learn an instrument, but you wouldn’t take no for an answer after watching a performance at the New Years party when you were maybe…” Kiriel paused, thinking back. “Seven, or so? I spent tens of thousands for private lessons from one of the few remaining masters in Kanto.”
“Wait, Mare plays an instrument?” Dani asked incredulously, trying to picture it. She couldn’t, but the jarring image of Mare with a saxophone made her cringe internally and she quickly replaced it with something more graceful, like a violin. Yes, she mused. A violin would fit nicely.
“Oh?” said Kiriel with a mischievous grin that seemed surprisingly natural on her face. “Did he decline to mention it? Mare is more than a little talented. Or at least he used to be. He used to gather all of his tutors together for private concerts once a week or so. I can’t quite recall when it stopped.”
“What instrument?” asked Ellie, mirroring Kiriel’s expression. “Do we have one here?”
“Let’s move on, now,” suggested Mare, blushing even more heavily this time. “You’ve made your point, Kiriel. My official answer to the initial question is that I like studying for fun, and now it’s your turn. Please?”
“Let’s not be so hasty, Mare,” said Kuon with a placating gesture that did not seem to have the intended effect, as Mare looked even more disgruntled. “Now that Kiriel mentions it, you have in fact subjected Liza and I to such concerts when you were visiting on occasion.”
“Kuon, please,” Mare groaned with a note of desperation in his voice. “It’s been years!”
“Too long,” smiled Liza. “The koto, wasn’t it?”
“That’s right,” confirmed Kiriel. “He heard it one time and was hooked for years, practicing obsessively when he wasn’t at his mandatory trainings.”
“What’s a koto?” asked Dani, feeling out of the loop; she had never heard of the instrument.
“Oh, I can answer this one!” said Ellie excitedly. “They’re really neat! They’re like long wooden boxes with strings that are played sitting down. They’re super twangy and hard to use. I had no idea they were popular here in Kanto, but they’re a staple back home, especially in different rituals and such at shrines or temples.”
“They’re not popular,” corrected Mare with a frown. “The sound is vastly different than most of the upbeat music popular around Kanto. I doubt Dani has even heard of one based on her reaction.”
“Seriously?” gaped Ellie. “Is that true, Dani?”
“Sadly, yes,” replied Dani, feeling embarrassed at her lack of knowledge. “Mare was spot on, unfortunately.”
“That’s okay,” comforted Mare with an understanding look. “They’re very niche and not widely used. I would’ve been surprised if you did know much about them. It’s really nothing to fret about.”
“Well, no time like the present to rectify the deficiency,” said Liza. “We happen to have one in this very room.” She gestured towards the antique-looking instrument hanging up on the wall Dani had noticed when they first arrived. It looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t remember where she had seen one before.
“That’s a koto?” asked Dani in surprise. “It’s huge!”
The instrument in question was nearly two meters long, made of dark wood with beautiful carvings throughout. It looked very complicated to her, with a large number of strings stretching across horizontally.
“Does that one even work?” asked Mare, squinting at the instrument. “It looks ancient.”
“It does, and it is. It’s a family heirloom of mine. Care to grace us with a song?” asked Kuon with a smug smile. “I’ll have the staff grab some plectrums for you.”
“Wait, hold up,” protested Mare, waving his hands frantically before him. “At no point did I say I was going to actually play it; I was just wondering what kind of condition it was in. Let’s just get through the toasts and get to bed. I’m sure the girls are tired,” he said with a pleading look their way.
“Nope,” chimed in Ellie, popping the ‘p’ with a grin. “Wide awake.”
“I’m feeling strangely awake, now that Ellie mentions it,” agreed Dani, joining her. She tried to keep a straight face but suspected a smile was leaking out.
“There you have it, Mare. The deciding flowers—I mean factors—have spoken,” declared Kuon. “Let’s get this food out of the way. I’ll have the attendants get it set up for you and we can enjoy ourselves an impromptu concert! What an exciting thing.”
“Fine, but I want to get my toast out of the way first, at least,” said Mare with a resigned sigh before holding up his glass. “A toast to freedom, then. I’ve learned more about myself and had more fun in the last three weeks than in the last three years, and I can’t wait to see what else I’ll discover in the coming months.” He turned their way, looking at her and Ellie respectively with serious eyes. “Thank you both for being by my side in the process. I couldn’t be more grateful.” He held up his drink before adding, “Oh, and character building, too. Cheers.”
“Youth,” chortled Kuon before they all drank.
Dani felt the liquid burn its way down her throat, leaving her body feeling comfortably warm. Apparently, alcohol had at least some effect on whatever was coursing through her veins, but she still wasn’t feeling anywhere close to normal.
Mare stood up, brushing any crumbs off his robes before heading to where Kuon’s staff had nearly finished setting up the koto after taking it down from the wall. A small cushion was placed towards the right side of the instrument, and they handed him a handful of what looked to Dani like fake nails.
She watched in fascination as he examined the nails—plectrums, rather, before putting a few of them on his fingers with tiny straps, waggling his fingers as if to warm them up—which was probably exactly what he was doing, before kneeling down on the small cushion and taking a deep breath.
At this point, the staff had cleared out the table, leaving them with a fresh set of side plates, and Kuon had sneakily managed to refill their glasses. Dani idly wondered how Ellie was doing with the alcohol. If anything, Ellie’s lips just seemed to be looser than normal, as evidenced by her seemingly tactless comments to Kiriel.
The three adults seemed utterly unphased, and Mare was hardly acting differently despite the slightest flushing of his cheeks. Maybe he’s used to drinking from events just like this? The thought that a dinner like this was normal for him made her feel strangely disappointed. This whole evening felt like something out of a movie, and it made her sad she might be the only one thinking it was special. Ellie seemed to be acting like it was just a completely normal thing.
Kiriel looked smug as a Persian if Dani was reading her expression correctly. Perhaps she was happy to direct the attention to Mare, and away from her? Or maybe she was proud? Dani’s analysis was interrupted by a series of discordant twanging sounds from behind her. Was Mare already playing? It didn’t sound very good, if that was the case, but Dani was determined to be supportive regardless of his skill.
“He’s tuning it,” clarified Kiriel with an understanding look, probably recognizing the cause of her confusion. “The koto is fairly unique insofar as it can be modified to a nearly unlimited degree. The various bridges can be moved along the body of the instrument to tune it to whatever key the musician prefers. It also depends on the type of song the player has selected; they’re all a bit different. I’m curious as to what Mare chooses to play for us.”
“You seem to know a lot about this,” observed Dani. “I’m surprised.”
“Yes,” whispered Kiriel with a crooked smile, clearly trying to be considerate of Mare’s efforts behind them. “I used to play, a long, long, time ago. My mother, Naomi, taught me when I was just a girl. I haven’t played since before the Great War.” She held up her hands, turning them over as if looking for something. She set them down with a frown, clearly finding them lacking in some way. “I doubt my hands could even form the correct positions, now. I’m not built for anything so delicate. Not like Mare.”
Dani barely heard the last words, even right across from Kiriel as she was. The rest of the table was staring at Mare and his plonking with rapt attention, so it felt like she and Kiriel were having something of a private moment despite the social nature of the situation.
“What do you mean?” whispered Dani. “He hardly seems delicate to me.”
“That’s good,” whispered Kiriel back. “It means I’ve succeeded, then.”
What did that mean? Has everything she’s done been intentional?
Before Dani could probe further, Mare’s voice rang out. “Okay, I think I’m ready now. It’s been several years, so I apologize if I make some mistakes or if it sounds terrible entirely.”
Turning around, she saw him seated formally, his back rigid and hands stretched out across the instrument in a way that meant nothing to her.
“Enjoy, I guess,” Mare said with a chagrined smile as he readied himself to play.