usedlaserbeam | 017 | Goldenrod City

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017 | Goldenrod City | Video / Action;

[It may seem like an odd endeavor, wandering the snowy streets of Goldenrod in such relatively unpleasant weather, but sure enough, that's precisely what Yagyuu's doing today. It's not the first time he's gone over these streets and it almost certainly won't be the last; he's not so much exploring today as he is just walking the familiar byways, his breath making translucent clouds in the chilly air.

There's a Vulpix riding along with him, curled around his shoulders and supported atop his backpack, nuzzled in close to his neck like an oversize, furry, Fire-type scarf. If the weight or the awkwardness of ferrying her in that way bothers him, he certainly doesn't show it; his own scarf is draped light but snug from his neck to his chin, and the collar of his heavy winter coat is turned up as added protection against the cold.

He's carrying a few bags with him, of varying sizes, all unmistakably from the Goldenrod Department Store—evidently, he's been out shopping. And perhaps he still is, because at the moment he's stopped in front of the frosted glass window of a jewelry store, peering in at the display and watching the light catch the facets of the gemstones as they glitter against their black velvet backings.]

Another four days and you'll be six months old, Masako. It is strange how time flies, isn't it?

[He's speaking quietly, more to himself than the little fox on his shoulders.]

And strange, too, how much can change in seven months.

[And he seems to dwell on that, lost in thought, as the jewels gleam bright in the window and the fine mist of his condensing breath drifts and disperses in the cold afternoon air.]

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[She's always been a skittish thing, ever since the day she hatched. Quite possibly that's part of the irony (and Yagyuu's sick sense of humor), that her name would seem so ill-fitting when held next to her demeanor, but she is nothing if not a Significant Fox, and perhaps that's why Yagyuu tolerates her shyness, when he otherwise demands so much from his team.

He tries his own cup, momentarily entertaining the idea of faking some death throes of his own—but no, he's not the theatrical one of the pair. That's someone else's role to play.]

Be careful with that, please.

[He rolls the stone over in his hand, eyeing it, before he just puts it back. The game didn't exactly show the stones, but he can guess well enough as to what it is.

He wraps both hands around the cup instead, blowing over the steam before taking another sip.]

Isn't she a little young to be growing up so soon?

She is six months old this week. I don't train her as hard as I do some of the others, and I won't send her into battle, but she's stronger than she looks.

[And now it's his turn to pick up the Fire Stone, mimicking Niou's motion of turning it over in his fingers.]

When she evolves, though, it won't be my choice. It's Kirihara-kun's.

[Don't worry, he's only joking. Though the fact that it's Akaya's choice makes him look at him properly, slightly curious.]

It is~?

[By now, Masako has begun to creep her way back out of her hiding place, nose twitching, sneaking carefully back toward Yagyuu's legs.]

Why not? They're both the baby of the team.

[That's such a weird logic, Yagyuu.]

Didn't you name her wrong then?

[He tilts his head, peeking down at her, then looking back up at him. He's a little amused.]

[Soon she is close enough, and laser-fast, Yagyuu scoops her up, holding fast as she wriggles and squirms and finally settles in his arms. He's careful not to let the Fire Stone touch her, replacing it in the bag once he's sure he won't drop her by freeing one hand to do so.]

That's something you ought to ask Fuji-kun.

[He pets her fondly.]

It'll be easier for him to accept his own evolution if he has someone else's to control in the process. We won't be his third-year senpais forever.

[He just scratches his head at that, shrugging the whole thing off. Mainly the part about asking Fuji about the name.

...Though he does let his eyes flicker to watch Yagyuu's hand - just for a split second - before they move back to his coffee.]

Y'sure leaving him in charge of another living thing is a good idea?

[It's amusing to him, the thought of that scenario, of Niou seeking out Fuji to discover what his partner was playing at all along. And it is, in a way, a trick of his own, but it's one that would play out as much on Seigaku's genius as on Niou, and perhaps that's what makes him find it so palatable after all.

A little prince once met a fox and learned a bit of wisdom from it as a parting gift: "You become responsible, forever, for that which you have tamed."

Most people were aware that this little fox ended up with the name Masako. Few would have the capacity to realize just how close she came to being Fujiko, instead.]

Only in charge of her evolution. Appraising her skill, deciding when to take her to the next level—it's good practice for a future captain, isn't it?

[Careful there, Yagyuu. He doesn't want them to team up against him or anything. Does he? That would be a dangerous partnership, after all.]

Don't let Yukimura hear you comparing Pokemon to Tennis like that.

[He's only saying it like this because the grasp of how Pokemon can even compare is a little weird. Thinking logically, it should make sense, but learning these things... how to instruct a team and understanding the members completely isn't quite the same. A Pokemon has a set evolution. People don't. It works as a first step though, yes. Which is why his voice has an almost teasing edge to it.]

[No, that's no real concern to him, not after the way Yukimura and the previous Niou had adopted Seigaku's Fuji into their fold, working to attempt to assimilate him into Rikkai as well. Besides, there may be very few things that Yagyuu is willing to put his unshakable trust in, but the ultimate loyalty of his partner happens to be one of them.]

He had a team of his own, you know. When he was here. He named them after us, and wanted to teach them to play tennis, too.

[Good. Because even now it'll always be Yagyuu who wins his attention anyway. It's also the reason why he's not too interested in chasing it up with Fuji too far. He can find out later.

That, and he doesn't want to admit he doesn't know something about the way Yagyuu thinks. That's almost like losing something.]

Did he manage to get very far? [Imagining Pokemon playing tennis is pretty amusing in it's own way.]

It was only the beginnings of a league, but there was certainly progress. Marui-kun's Tensai Jr., if I recall correctly, is quite proficient with a backhand.

[But he's quiet a minute, regarding Niou carefully—not staring, never gawking, but watching in the way that comes so naturally to him, lingering at the baseline to appraise the situation and waiting with infinite patience for the chance ball that will enable the critical shot. No matter how much they dance around the topic, they're both well aware that there are things Niou doesn't remember. And no matter how much they pretend it isn't there, sooner or later someone will trip over the elephant in the room, and that will be that.

But it's not Yagyuu's nature to push when he might otherwise wait, and so he only watches for that slow, lingering moment, thinking of the disconnect that's come between them again and resenting that yet again, it somehow feels like his fault for being unable to fix it.

But then, a moment later, it's gone; denial comes to his rescue once again, and the ability to pretend that everything is fine is yet again his saving grace.]

That's his garden out behind the house, too. I'm concerned it'll fall into disrepair in his absence, but it seems improper to do away with it entirely.

If there was anyone who'd manage it... [He doesn't finish the sentence, and just shrugs, but it's pretty obvious he means that Yukimura could probably get anything that moved to be able to play tennis eventually.

Talking about Yukimura does only make light of a few things relevant to his own situation too. Things that he would rather think about on his own and not include anyone in. It's easier to deal with that way... but also because he isn't sure where everything slots into place yet. A lot of things are already sorted, yes, but other things, not quite.

He glances towards the back of the house, taking that distraction.] He'd be pissed if he came back to it all gone. [If he remembered being there in the first place.]

One might argue the opposite, that it'd be disorienting to come back to accomplishments when one has no recollection of the efforts that went into achieving them.

[He won't push. Niou can take all the space he wants, all the time he needs. Perhaps that remark is something entirely more simple: a brief reminder of, I know.]

Still, that's a concern for a time when the ground isn't covered in snow, I imagine.

[He glances at the mess he made in the corner on the floor at that and shifts slightly. It's sort of like I get it, but without saying the words.]

They'd be kinda dead in this weather anyway.

[Not like any of them have really paid that much attention to gardening. The only ones he's ever liked are the Venus Flytraps for obvious reasons.]

Mm. That can't be helped.

[He doesn't miss the unspoken reply, but still he waits. The ball is, ultimately, in Niou's court; will he say something further? Or will they continue to leave it alone?

In all honesty, Yagyuu's not entirely sure which option is preferable.]

Not really.

[He doesn't say anything else for now though, just taps the edge of his coffee cup to make a light tune to fill the silence.

Part of him, just wants to start anew, and pretend he had never been there before (because in his memory, he hasn't), but part of him can't ignore all the tell tale signs that he has been there before either.

It's almost like not knowing which serve to use. To stand tall and take the regular overhead serve, or to go with a more cautious underhanded serve that probably won't get them anywhere because of how much weaker it is. But he doesn't know how to bring it up really. They're alone, there's no one else to see if they do talk... things out. He doesn't even really know what he should be looking out for either. From what he can tell, they've all been there much longer. He's picked up on things like that, but there are questions that are kind of... too awkward to ask as well. Ones he wouldn't dream of asking, where they're much better at just skating the edges.

Instead he just says something that is on-topic, but not the most appropriate. Actually, it's anything but appropriate.]

I guess finding out Sanada named his teddy bear after him will take away some of the pain.

[All right, he thinks, with that oddly warm resignation that comes familiar with moments like this. That's how it'll be, then.

And in truth, there's a part of him that's grateful for that. The way things unfolded just a few short months ago, the mistakes they made in fumbling through their hidden motives and half-truths—like this, they're erased, as though they had never occurred at all. Yagyuu remembers, but Yagyuu is also a pro at selective memory, at sideways rationale. If he pretends things don't exist, it's as complete a denial as if they were never there at all.

Maybe it's better this way. If he's the only one who remembers their mistakes, maybe this time around they'll be better prepared to avoid repeating them.]

Wouldn't that comfort you? To be the namesake of something fluffy and adorable?

[For now until he gets comfortable in this new place anyway, yes. That's how it'll be. Who is to say they're really erasing them by doing this anyway, maybe they're just pushing back the problem as well. A week isn't nearly long enough to suddenly fit into a new world and to take all the problems that come with it. Especially when neither of them ever really spit out and say what they really mean by things.

Just like skipping to this conversation rather than the conversations they probably should be having. Like, he doesn't even know there were mistakes before.

His lips twitch at that question and his eyes drift to the Vulpix.]

Isn't it similar enough?

I wouldn't know. No one's named anything fluffy and adorable after me.

[Ghosts are not, after all, what he might easily term "fluffy and adorable".]

[Well, Gastly is slightly fluffy... if you go by the purple smoke stuff, right? Maybe not.

There may be a hint of a smirk on his lips as he replies.]

Jigglypuff's were sort of adorable and squishy, weren't they?

You are not naming a Jigglypuff after me.

[It's a step up from the Gastly, isn't it?]

You sure?

[Not by much.]

You have three hundred to choose from and that's the one you settle on?

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