Chapter Text
“I know,” Kazuya said into his poketch. “Bug-types evolving quickly – yeah, yes, I’ll take care of it – yes, goodbye Professor.”
Hanging up a call that didn’t actually happen, Kazuya straightened his glasses and picked up his very suspicious lumpy bag.
Floaroma’s small townsquare was busy around this time of the day, with what felt like the entire population taking their lunch breaks at the caffes and restaurants. Aside from kitchen and waiting staff, Kazuya felt like the only person currently working.
A small swarm of combee flew over the town, the buzz of their wings a sound that in any other town would be cause for alarm but here barely drew any attention. Kazuya gazed up reflexively – he’d been thinking of wanting to train a female combee up – but even if there was one with the distinctive red dot among them, catching was only fair game outside of towns and if the pokemon was interested.
Carrying the lumpy bag in his hands that wasn’t actually as heavy as he pretended, Kazuya made his way out of the town. Floaroma wasn’t big, but it wasn’t small either with its spread-out houses and expansive, colorful, blooming gardens.
He took his time, taking breaks like he would need if he was actually carrying heavy scientific equipment, and by the time he was walking the stretch of trodden path through a flower field between the town and the edge of the woods, he had picked up a pair of stalkers.
Hopefully they were the type of stalkers he intended to pick up and not ones actually interested in him, himself. They should be. After all, Kazuya was dressed in his usual baggy joggers and formless windbreaker, both in boring colors, his square glasses on his nose and a Battle Zone-themed cap pulled low into his face. Someone had to look very close to place his face or notice he was good-looking enough to pursue. And even then, it usually wasn’t meant literally.
Reaching the woods, he took another break in the refreshing shade. His stalkers picked up on the wordless invitation and closed the distance between them.
The game was on.
“Hey, that looks heavy. Do you need help carrying?” one of them offered amiably.
Both were men in casual jeans-and-shirt attire, no different from anyone else, and Kazuya didn’t like that, but it made sense. The only thing that stood out, visually, something easily overlooked at first, second, and even third glance was a pin.
One had it pinned to the hem of his shirt, the other wore it on his sleeve. As far as Kazuya could tell, it matched Tetsu-san’s description.
Kazuya wished it didn’t. He’d been setting this half-assed bait up in hopes of being assured that the troubles Tetsu-san had were a one-time thing. An attempted crime of opportunity more than anything else.
(On the upside, they weren’t interested in flirting. Mei would call him boring, but Mei was an attentionwhore, so that didn’t count. The fact that Kazuya was selective about when and where and from whom he wanted attention meant he had better taste, thank you very much.)
“Ah, thank you,” Kazuya said with a gullible smile that anyone who knew him would not buy for a second. He demonstratively lifted his bag again. “But it’s fragile and my boss would get angry at me if it got damaged just because I didn’t keep up with my exercises.”
The men traded glances that might pass for subtle if you weren’t looking for it. “Well, your boss isn’t here, is he,” the first man said kindly, briefly stroking the goatee on his chin. “He doesn’t have to know. Don’t worry, it’s no trouble. We won’t tell. Who is your boss anyway that he’s having you carry things all the way out here?” He took a step closer, still projecting harmlessness.
Clenching his teeth behind a hesitant façade, Kazuya decided he was curious to see how this was going to go. He made himself look resolute. “I appreciate the offer, but I would know. Professor Kataoka, if you’ve heard of him, is a strict man and he trusted me with this.” He angled himself away, hefting his bag with a small grunt. “Please have a good day.”
Kuramochi would stare at him with creeped out eyes if he could see Kazuya act like this, but work was work and it wasn’t like every random job could be as thrilling as, say, a Legendary encounter (not that either of them would know, having never encountered one, which was actually a good thing), it still needed to be done.
As he half expected but was disappointed by anyway, the men didn’t take the hint. They fell into step with Kazuya, one on the left, one on the right. If this was going where Kazuya expected it was going, he wondered what these men’s plan was. Kazuya had seen their faces. Did they care about that?
“Wow, Professor Kataoka, huh. He’s infamous,“ Goatee-man said casually. “After my time, but I remember hearing in the news that he’s got high standards. Not everyone gets a starter from him even if all the paperwork is right. To be working for him is quite something.”
“It’s important research,” Kazuya replied, quickly generating stock phrases from his repertoire. “I wouldn’t want to let him down.”
“But the professor’s lab is in Sandgem Town, isn’t it?” said #2, a man with teal-dyed streaks in his hair. “What’re you doing all the way out here? Not even in town but in the woods. Only the Flower Meadow is this way. Do you have some business there?”
Kazuya cleared his throat. “That’s confidential, I’m afraid.”
The spiel continued, Kazuya dodging giving answers he didn’t have in the first place and the men digging for information about the professor’s research about evolution. Half a kilometer or so into the forest, Kazuya decided he’d toed the dangerous line for long enough.
He called for another break, then excused himself with an awkward smile behind a bush a polite distance away, and in this, the men took the chance Kazuya so kindly offered them. One of them lifted the bag Kazuya had left, frowning when it wasn’t as heavy as he expected while the other took out a pokeball.
Kazuya felt his lips thin. Internally flicking through his options, curiosity and purpose won out again.
“Keep watch from above,” Kazuya said to one of his pokeballs. “Don’t interfere unless I’m hurt, I need to know what they’re after.” Then, he tossed the ball as high as he could straight up and caught the empty one when it fell back down. A breeze stirred the foliage around him with the unnatural wind of wingbeats.
He arranged his pokeballs in easy grabbing order, stretched his limbs out, mentally prepared himself for anything, and then returned to where he left the men, only to freeze in affected shock when he saw Goatee digging through his bag and Teal-hair standing watch over him, pokeball in hand.
“You!” Teal-hair yelled when he caught sight of Kazuya. “What is the meaning of this?! Where is the professor’s research?” Goatee was turning Kazuya’s bag upside down. A small pile of berries fell out, complementing the ones the man had already dug out one-by-one by hand.
Kazuya gasped dramatically. “What are you doing? My bag - those berries were expensive! I was going to make poffins with them!” Outwardly flailing and intimidated when the man snapped at him again, Kazuya was internally grinning at how infuriated their expressions were growing.
Ah, provoking people really was too much fun, Kuramochi would be disgusted that his nasty personality was shining through even now. But hey, the men had dug their own graves, they had no right to protest about how Kazuya was going to kick them into them.
“Enough, this was a mistake,” Goatee said, reigning himself in. “Let’s just –“
“HEY! IT'S YOU GUYS AGAIN!”
The voice broke into their conflict like thunder, its owner standing a few dozen meters down the path and pointing an accusing finger at the men.
Stomping like a donphan, the new arrival placed himself between Kazuya and the men, a brand new trainer-typical satchel slung across a broad back. By force of presence alone, he built himself up like a wall even though he was slightly shorter and slimmer than Kazuya. “WHAT ARE YOU UP TO THIS TIME!?”
To Kazuya’s incredulous amusement, the two men blanched, staring at the new guy with a frustrated sort of horror. “You again!”
“Me again!” the new arrival proclaimed, hands on his hips. “I can’t believe it! You just got away with a slap on your wrist two days ago and you’re already at it again! I’m taking you to the police this time! Even if you aren’t wearing those disguises!”
Goatee scowled. He pulled out a pokeball. “You got lucky last time,” he said. “You’re alone here. Yuuki Tetsuya isn’t around to help you out.”
What am I, spoiled milk? Kazuya remained silent, though. Being overlooked suited his purpose and his eyebrows had climbed as he connected the dots. This new guy had to be the random passers-by trainer Testu-san mentioned.
The way Goatee spat Tetsu-san’s name, Kazuya could just imagine how the attempted robbery of Professor Kataoka went: Robbers see target and Unassuming Assistant. Robbers ambush. Unassuming Assistant turned out to be Yuuki Tetsuya, formerly a member of the Elite Four. He would have loved to see their faces.
Random Passers-by Trainer huffed expressively. “As if I need help kicking the ass of weaklings like you!” He held up a pokeball in clear challenge. “Let’s battle! If I win, you’re going to come to the police with me!”
Teal-hair scoffed. “Dream on, kid.” He tossed his pokeball and Kazuya’s defender threw his own in return even as he started to herd Kazuya backwards.
“Leave it to me, Mister! I’ll defeat these guys and then we’ll go to the police and make them give back what they stole from you.”
The trainer wasn’t looking at Kazuya, eyes on the impromptu field and his piplup, which was so fresh from the lab that it basically still sparkled. Thepiplup and dustox sized each other up.
But Kazuya could see him and his profile, and his brain admittedly stalled a little because pretty was his first thought. Pretty eyes, alight with an internal spirit that made them blaze like miniature suns.
The arm the man was using to herd Kazuya out of the fire zone was a warm bronze even in the shadow of the forest, positively riddled with scars, big and small, rough and smooth, that did nothing to detract from its well-defined shape.
Hot was predictably his second because Kazuya had a type, and to that type belonged strong-willed.
Despite the unexpected direction of his thoughts, Kazuya took pity on the trainer and moved himself out of the way to not distract from what had suddenly turned pear-shaped in a very different way from what Kazuya had initially expected. Entertainingly so.
A path like this, paved by cobble-stones and packed earth with trees left and right was not exactly a place where pokemon battles were recommended. For one, the League, cities and communities disliked when trainers got too enthusiastic and caused damage to their surroundings, ecosystems (could happen), or infrastructure. Damaged streets were a huge no-no, as far as the region’s infrastructure committee was concerned, and if they found someone who did it, the fine would be heavy.
In practice, though, there was no real way of stopping pokemon battles from happening wherever they would. All you needed was two trainers and two pokemon after all. And that wasn’t even accounting for the damage that could happen to roads like this because two wild pokemon brawled over territory or just for fun.
Battle on roads and streets was therefore no actual issue so long as no one was bothered and no destruction was going to happen. Looking at the piplup, puffing itself up to seem bigger, but still inexperienced enough that it was visibly anxious, the opposing dustox glittering with poisonous dust of maturity, Kazuya rather thought that collateral damage would be unlikely.
Poisoning might happen, though. He eyed the would-be thieves. Were they the type to use pokemon on people?
Considering that they’d let Kazuya see their faces, and that dustox could use psychic and poisonous moves, he rather thought that they were.
“Alright, let’s go!” Kazuya’s rescuer proclaimed, breaking the stalemate. “Keep on your toes, Pip! Speed over power. Use Charm!”
At first, Kazuya was only watching the battle unfold to learn more about the two would-be thieves. However, his gaze kept being drawn back to the piplup when it did something that exceeded Kazuya’s expectations. The way it moved, the way it knew to use the surroundings to its advantage, the way it escaped an Absorb by skating backwards across the ground it had wet before using the recoil from a Water Gun as an accelerator.
From the piplup, his eyes kept lingering on its trainer, who made for an almost comical sight in his obnoxiously yellow shirt that spelled BORN IN HEAVEN across a broad chest while the fierceness of his expressions, the sharp, clear tone of his commands, would make Kazuya rather think he was forged on an anvil.
He was incredibly, impossibly hard to look away from. It was bizarre. There was something, in the way he battled, that shot a thrill down Kazuya’s spine. His hand itched with the need to get that focus, that intent directed to him, but he stopped himself from reaching for a pokeball.
It was a hard battle without true type-advantage. But both pokemon had moves that were super effective on the other and, thanks to their apparent previous encounter, all parties involved knew it. The dustox was obviously older and more mature, more experienced too, in addition to its higher evolution stage, and its trainer knew how to battle with it well enough. Nothing extraordinary, rather rote and predictable, in fact, but well enough. Accordingly, it should have been a clear-cut battle.
That it wasn’t, was to the piplup’s trainer’s credit. That the piplup started to gain the upper hand and push back was to the credit of the little pokemon’s spirit. The battle was demanding, as was what its trainer ordered and planned, and both the reaction times and the trust needed to do as told were far deeper than could be expected, more or less fresh out of the lab.
Hot, he thought again, watching the self-assured trainer from the side lines.
Pretty, he thought, watching those bright eyes flash with determination and pride when the piplup did well.
Good battler, he thought, as the dustox started to lose steam.
Damn, he thought.
Rei-chan was going to be unimpressed with him when he sent in his report, but right now, Kazuya was a little bit too distracted to care and suddenly, ridiculously regretted dressing his most inconspicuous and boring. Usually, he wouldn’t care less, but-
He was snapped out of his rather shameless ogling as Goatee apparently had enough and blithely broke the accepted rules of pokemon battles everywhere that you were not to change the type of battle mid-battle without prior agreement.
A luxio joined the battle.
For the first time, something like doubt made the little piplup falter. As Kazuya was wondering if he should throw his own weight in (and, shamelessly, embarrassingly, if maybe offering dashing support would net him enough points with his knight in shining armour for a date), its trainer, meanwhile, bristled in utter outrage.
“I should’ve known you’d cheat!” he yelled accusingly, expression vibrant and spellbinding for its openness. So pretty and entertaining to watch. Kazuya didn’t want to look away. From one of the countless pockets of his cargo pants, the trainer pulled out a second pokeball of his own. “Fine! Star, let’s go and back Pip up!”
Kazuya’s eyes tracked the pokeball only absently, something about its design striking him as odd, even if he couldn’t really tell what as it spun –
The light congealed into a distinct shape and the weight of those paws hitting the ground seemed to travel through the earth like vibrations from a steelix. For a moment, Kazuya thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but the piplup launched itself into the air to land on the head of its new partner, chirping in a firm tone of displeasure.
Kazuya was no pokemon linguist, but even he understood the clear message of MY battle, don’t get in the way which was a sight so disconcerting that it actually upstaged the size of that luxray considering, well, the size and evident experience of that luxray. The piplup was so small in comparison that it could probably hide in one of the spikes of fur on the electric feline’s head and no one would notice.
The luxray flicked an ear and otherwise didn’t seem to pay any attention whatsoever to either the piplup or the opponents. After one thorough once over, it seemed to dismiss them as worthy of its attention.
Goatee and Teal-hair gaped at the luxray with understandable shock. The luxio seemed suddenly far less interested in battling, tail tucked between its legs and ears lowered submissively.
The piplup slid down the luxray’s nose like a slide, landed on its two feet and chirped loudly, raring to go. Come at me, its body language clearly said. Let’s continue where we left off.
Considering the luxray looming behind it, comically huge in comparison, Kazuya understood why the dustox and luxio did not, in fact, come. He had to bite back a snort.
Kazuya’s knight in shining armour suddenly seemed a lot less like a newbie trainer fresh out of trainer school and more like a veteran from a different region dropping by, all things considered. He didn’t miss a beat, supplementing his verbal orders with meaning-encoded gestures. “Pip, let’s finish the dustox off! Star, don’t let the luxio interfere!”
That at least snapped the other two men out of their stupor. They scowled with a mix of fury and humiliation, the sort of expression of trainers everywhere who never did and never would get past three badges and couldn’t accept that it was a problem with them more than with the Gyms. The sort of trainer who dreamed they were a trainer . The sort of expression that said they knew they were in hot water but were going to try blindly bull-heading their way through anyway.
The luxio’s trainer tried to get it to move and attack the piplup, but one growl from the luxray, and whatever intention the luxio might have had of even moving was gone. The pokemon looked terrified out of its mind.
Suddenly, the luxray’s nose twitched and its head turned in Kazuya’s direction with not-quite-predatory focus. Its tail flicked. Kazuya had to spare a moment to ask himself how well that one was trained, but the luxray seemed content to just watch him. Stare at him, really, like it wanted to make sure he didn’t flee.
The piplup finished the dustox off with a well-placed Peck. The bug-type fainted and its trainer recalled it, furious. The luxio’s gave up at that point, recalling his electric feline. Both of them didn’t spare a single word of appreciation towards their pokemon and Kazuya could see, all too easily, why, if they indeed tried the Gym circuit, they never made it far.
“Oshi! Oshi! Oshi! Great job, Pip!” Kazuya’s rescuer was the perfect counter point. The piplup hopped into its trainer’s spread arms, fairly radiating pride and accomplishment as its trainer heaped praise upon it and gave it a berry to nibble on before focusing back on the men. “I beat you, and you forfeited! It’s a deal, you’re going with us to the police now!”
The men were staring at Kazuya’s pretty rescuer resentfully, unsurprisingly revealing themselves to be disgraceful losers, but it was clear they were overly aware of the huge luxray. The sheer intimidation factor of it kept their tongues tied even as it was merely casually cleaning a paw before being recalled.
Evil sees as evil does. If Kazuya had doubted they would have tried to ambush him with that dustox before, those doubts were now gone.
Oblivious to the thoughts swirling under the surface, Pretty Trainer hefted his piplup in his arms and huffed satisfied, taking their silence for compliance. “Good!” he declared. “Maybe you’ll learn something this time! Let’s go to the Floaroma police station! And then you can compensate this poor mister for what you took from him too!”
Gesturing pointedly in Kazuya’s direction, it was only now that their eyes met for the first time.
Pretty, echoed in Kazuya’s head again. He’d gradually been approaching the young man as the battle wound down and now from up close, he really couldn’t help being a little bit stunned again by this person.
Kazuya had a reputation for being good-looking. So handsome that he had a fanclub for that alone. But whoever thought his artfully crafted distance attractive had clearly never met someone like this, who was gorgeous not only because of the genetic lottery but also because of sheer radiance. Force of personality. Expressiveness, though it was more than that. Looking at this man, Kazuya felt that any other objective handsomeness he’d ever laid eyes on seemed like an artificial painting in comparison.
Stunning was the exact word to describe him.
“Some berries,” Kazuya informed obligingly, eyes completely unable to look at anyone but this pretty, pretty storm who breezed into Kazuya’s day. Never before had he waxed poetry like this about someone in their first meeting. Not even for Chris. It was as if this guy was just tailored to Kazuya’s tastes, and, well, Kazuya was always one to jump on presented opportunities. Impulsively, Kazuya decided he might as well enjoy the ride and see where it’d take him. What was the worst that could happen? “But who knows what they’d have tried to do to me.” Emphasis on tried. He fluttered his lashes behind his glasses. “How about you let me take you out on a date to thank you properly?”
Kazuya’s rescuer stared at him. His mouth dropped open in blatant shock as his eyes rounded. The man’s piplup was dropped from his arms and the pokemon seemed to blame Kazuya for it, going by those narrowed eyes.
“IT’S YOU!” he shouted so loud, it echoed in the woods. Lunging forward, he grasped Kazuya by the shoulders. Then he froze, less from noticing that Kazuya had stiffened and more as if his brain had short circuited. Kazuya should free himself and regain his personal space, but didn’t. Pretty eyes blinked rapidly, staring with fixed, dazed focus at Kazuya as their owner shook Kazuya a little. “…it is you,” he said, almost more to himself than to Kazuya, and it was that that had Kazuya sigh and try to untangle himself.
“Yes, I guess so – “
But he couldn’t finish speaking, nevermind free himself. The guy shook him by the shoulders so hard Kazuya feared his head would fall off while his ears were being deafened by, “I FOUND YOU! YOU’VE GOT TO TELL ME YOUR NAME! TELL ME YOUR NAME!”
…pardon? He didn’t-? “I – what?”
“WHAT’S YOUR NAME! YOU’VE GOT TO TELL ME!”
“Uh.” Kazuya blinked, stupefied. His glasses had slipped down his nose and he lifted a hand to straighten the thick frames. But even back in focus, the world didn’t make any more sense. “Kazuya,” he heard himself say, brain to mouth filter gone. “Miyuki Kazuya.” Framed by thick lashes, a pool of amber dotted with sparkles of honey that radiated so much intense focus and determination and passion that Kazuya found it difficult to string thoughts together. What was happening to him?
The absurd desire to look into those eyes and keep looking until he could pick the person behind them apart blindsided him as the man’s hands slipped from Kazuya’s shoulders limply.
For a long moment, the trainer goggled at Kazuya as if the very concept that Kazuya should have a name was absurd. When he snapped out of it, he unashamedly ran his eyes up and down Kazuya’s body, from his shoes to his cap, lingering on Kazuya’s shoulders, his mouth, his eyes with memorizing focus and something uncomfortably more emotional than that. “… Miyuki Kazuya,” the man echoed, testing out the syllables like something special, like he was trying to ingrain them in his memory.
It was just Kazuya’s name. He’d heard it a million times in his life. And yet.
Fuck.
Kazuya’s cheeks warmed, and he stood there, clueless about what to do when faced with someone who checked him out even while he was dressed like an unattractive couch potato, as though he hadn’t just been intending to flirt for all he was worth himself. Not prepared, the masks he wore that knew how to operate smoothly when he was the target of admiration were nowhere to be found.
There was something, in the way the man looked at him, something off, like –
Disbelievingly, the man was still mouthing Kazuya’s full name silently to himself at least a couple times. Kazuya’s befuddlement was joined by (a dangerously intrigued) amusement.
He cleared his throat. “And you are?”
Kazuya’s pointed question shook the man out of his stupor. Again, he looked like he was smacked over the head, transparent and expressive.
“You don’t know me?”
Kazuya lifted a pointed eyebrow. “Should I?”
The man looked flabbergasted. “I – but it is you, isn’t it?”
Usually, if Kazuya were recognized despite his best efforts, he’d either try to play it off or escape immediately, but this trainer hadn’t even known his name. “Who?”
For a long, increasingly awkward moment, the pretty man gazed at him, lost, pretty eyes luminescent.
“You don’t know me?” He chewed his lips. Kazuya made sure he didn’t let his eyes drop. “…You’re sure you’ve never seen me before?” His voice wobbled.
“I’m pretty sure I would remember someone like you,” responded Kazuya, pointedly and deliberately flippant.
“Oh.” The way disappointment shaped the man’s expression made something in Kazuya twinge with misplaced guilt.
“Why?”
“No reason, I just thought…” Kazuya’s rescuer squinted and stared. His eyes ran over Kazuya’s face with such intensity, he felt it like a physical touch. Kazuya’s stomach tightened with inappropriate heat that he pushed aside with his bewilderment at the whole situation. “…Do you have a twin?”
Was this guy for real? “What sort of question is that from someone whose name I don’t even know?” he asked, exasperated. He felt like an intrepid teenager again, befuddled and clumsy when faced with someone he found attractive, though he sweatdropped as the other man suddenly seemed to regain his senses and sprang back out of Kazuya’s space to bow, picturebook perfect, and declare: “MY APOLOGIES! THIS ONE IS SAWAMURA EIJUN FROM TWINLEAF TOWN! I HAVE RECENTLY SET OUT ON MY POKEMON JOURNEY TO FIND MY PLACE IN THE WORLD! YOU SOUND…AND LOOK LIKE SOMEONE I’M LOOKING FOR BUT I CAN’T REMEMBER HIS NAME so do you have a twin?”
“…No,” he said, deadpan. His ears were ringing. “I don’t.”
Despite the way this conversation had gone so far, it turned out there was still a spark of hope in Sawamura’s eyes that went out at that. “Oh.”
“…yep,” Kazuya said, trying not to feel absurdly and irrationally disappointed that he wasn’t who this Sawamura Eijun hoped he was. “Anyway. You couldn’t say that quieter? I bet you chased every pokemon within a quarter kilometre away.”
“Speaking loudly expresses conviction!” The pretty man frowned. “But I guess you have a point!”
So he was an idiot.
A pretty, energetic, loud idiot. That this wasn’t a minus in Kazuya’s book said a lot about Kazuya’s tastes. “Glad you think so.” Regrouping, Kazuya smirked, edged just-so. “Sorry for your case of mistaken identity. I hope that means you don’t regret your dashing rescue.”
The man spluttered. “I’d never – wait, what do you mean, d-d-dashing?” Though he no longer quite looked at Kazuya like he was a fairytale come to life, there was still something in the way his gaze was fixed on Kazuya, something that tickled down his spine deliciously. And he still looked at Kazuya as if he wanted to peel Kazuya apart layer by layer.
Kazuya could almost see Kuramochi grimace in disgust, but the smirk he pulled up was for Sawamura alone, taking a step closer to him and angling his head slyly. “The way you so bravely defended my fragile, innocent self could make a guy swoon,” he said, lilt overly sweet, and let the words linger, long enough to watch them sink in and Sawamura blush like a flustered maiden. Cute. Easy to tease, Kazuya bet, and itched to find out the hows and how-muchs. Leaning a bit closer still, he noticed Sawamura’s breathing grow shallow and his eyes unfocused. Transparent too. It took more will power than he wanted to admit to refrain from testing the extent of that too, right here and now, barely fifteen minutes into their acquaintance.
Sawamura was hot and his personality was appearing to be more entertaining by the moment. The chemistry crackling between them was bizarre and stupidly potent and Kazuya had always been the sort to test how close he could get to a flame before it burned him. He knew how to toe the line, though admittedly it wasn’t usually this sort of line. This sort of line wasn’t usually interesting enough to bother approaching. The unique newness was exciting.
Breaking their eye contact, Kazuya let the thickening tension between them fade. He walked over to his spilled bag of berries, crouching to check which ones were still good to use and which ones would serve as leftovers for the resident bug-types. The good ones, he returned to his bag. “I baited those men into trying to steal from me. I wanted to find out what they wanted from Professor Kataoka,” he explained, feeling Sawamura’s eyes follow him like pulled by gravity.
Sawamura gasped. “Wait – where -?!” He made a strangled sound of outrage. “They ran! Cowards! I beat them fair and square!”
As if that mattered to people who didn’t play fair and square.
“They sure did.” While you distracted me with your pretty eyes and pretty face and loud personality, Kazuya didn’t add. Rei-chan was going to be so incredibly unimpressed with him. He was unimpressed with himself, a day’s work down the drain because a sparkly new toy ticked all of Kazuya’s boxes in an unprecedented way. He’d have to find another way to follow up if Rei-chan needed him to. “We should return to Floaroma and report them to the police anyway. So that people know to look for them.” And those pins. An emblem of sort, Kazuya bet. He threw a simmering look over his shoulder, and decided he didn’t want to bother affecting a mask when Sawamura was so much fun. “How about you treat me to dinner after. For ruining all my work.”
And Kazuya admitted, it was gratifying to see how Sawamura turned into a stammering, bright-eyed mess from just a look and a few words. Just as entertaining was his outrage after Kazuya’s words sank in. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘RUIN’?! I WAS PROTECTING A DEFENSELESS PERSON – WHAT I THOUGHT WAS A DEFENSELESS PERSON!! MIYUKI KAZUYA, YOU’RE FULL OF SHIT, AREN’T YOU!!! DON’T MAKE FUN OF GOOD INTENTIONS –“
Kazuya cracked up. Half because Sawamura was hilarious, half because he was right and Kazuya’d just stood dumbly on the sidelines. “Aw, but you were such a heroic knight in shining armour. I was too busy being swept off my feet, you can’t blame me-“
“YOU – YOU SHAMELESS - MIYUKI KAZUYA!!!!!”
Oh, Kazuya was going to have so much fun with him. He was almost already giddy from the intriguing potential between them. “Yes, yes,” Kazuya agreed blithely, getting up from his crouch with his bag, which he slung lightly over his shoulder. “Now continue being a gentleman,” he teased, slinging his arm around Sawamura’s neck and pulling him along in the direction of Sinnoh’s flower paradise, “and escort me back to town, will you.”
Making a sound like a steaming kettle, Sawamura shook his arm off. “That’s not how you ask for a favour, Miyuki Kazuya! You’re so rude!” He fell into step with Kazuya without any prompting anyway, squinting suspiciously at him the whole time. “What are you trying to accomplish?!”
A number of retorts, ranging from the lewd to the cheeky, jumped to the tip of Kazuya’s tongue. He went with something coy. “How about you figure that out?”
Kazuya spent most of the time back to town winding Sawamura up, and it was time well spent in his books. As he expected, the man was wholesale entertaining on an entirely new level.
As the treeline was left behind, Kazuya’s steps slowed and Sawamura fell silent, eyes huge as Chime descended in front of them.
In Kazuya’s utterly biased opinion, she was as beautifully graceful as always, but it was nice to see her so visibly appreciated by someone else who a) didn’t heap the sort of platitudes some people tended to throw at him and his team on her and b) didn’t seem to know guile if it hit him in the face.
Sawamura was all but glowing with awe as he beheld her. Her white wings stirred up dust, flowers swayed and petals blew into the air. The arch of her azure body was smooth elegance as her claws dug into the ground and she settled into gravity’s hold, trilling a rolling note at Kazuya, who dug around in his pockets for a dried, candied berry that she gently picked from his hand.
“Wow, so pretty! What pokemon is it, I’ve never seen any like it before. It’s yours, Miyuki Kazuya?!”
“Her name is Chime,” Kazuya introduced, scratching under her chin, and Chime trilled another tone, this one a pleased hum. “She’s an altaria. They’re native to Hoenn, usually. She was my backup for dealing with those guys until you jumped in.”
“Wow,” Sawamura repeated again, edging around Chime at a respectful distance and running his eyes all over her. “She looks well trained too! She looks like she’d be super hard to battle. Do you battle, Miyuki Kazuya?”
Hah! “…As a hobby, I guess you could say,” Kazuya fibbed, and Sawamura’s eyes started to sparkle.
“Don’t tell me, are you also doing the Gym circuit!?”
Kazuya snickered. “Nah, not really. How many badges have you got, though? Your piplup seems still pretty young.”
“One! The Coal Badge!” Sawamura said proudly, watching as Kazuya returned Chime to her ball and started walking again.
The usual first Gym, then. “I meant total, not just from Sinnoh.”
“…Still just one!” Sawamura repeated, determined and almost defiantly. Kazuya shot him a disbelieving look that Sawamura seemed to not notice at all, beaming at him. “We should battle some time, Miyuki Kazuya! Chime looked like she’d be really, really interesting to battle.”
“Maybe I can be convinced,” Kazuya allowed, as though he ever had to be convinced to battle if the battle looked promising, which in this case - “Against your luxray? Star, was it?”
Sawamura shrugged easily. “Maybe! Or someone else. Hey, say, Miyuki Kazuya, how many pokemon have you got with you? We could totally do a full battle if you’ve got more pokemon like Chime!”
If, he said. Kazuya snorted. “Oi, you’re mightily pretentious for a newbie trainer. Does your Star even listen to you?”
“Of course she does!” Sawamura frowned at him. “I mean, she knows how to battle on her own, of course, and I leave most of the small stuff to her, but for things like strategies and tactics, she listens to me. Why wouldn’t she? That’s the point of a partnership, isn’t it?”
Kazuya rolled his shoulders, intrigued and amused in equal parts at the consternated bafflement painted on Sawamura’s features. “Oh, I don’t know. Because you need to earn the respect of pokemon clearly as strong as that?” Anyone could catch powerful pokemon with the right method. Bribery was one incentive, and curiosity to see other places another motive for the pokemon, but that a good partnership did not make. At all. “Newbie trainers catching above their weight class tend to ignore the warnings. If it’s not a problem for you, good on you.” He smirked, sharp. “I might take you up on that offer, if you think you can keep up.” Kuramochi and or Nabe must never know, if for vastly different reasons. “We could make it a date,” he added, leering, and was rewarded by Sawamura flushing a flustered, panicky red again as his brain visibly struggled to keep up. “I’ll take a battle as recompense for messing up my little trap earlier. What do you say?”
“Let’s battle!” Sawamura agreed immediately, collecting himself and scowling reproachfully at Kazuya even as his bronze skin was still painted with a flush. “And how was I supposed to know you didn’t need help! No one told me! I couldn’t just let those people try to rob someone again!”
That was a good point, though not one Kazuya was going to admit to out loud. Instead he fished out a berry and shoved it at Sawamura’s face, and he’d read him right – that was enough to distract him from his self-righteous sulk, and Sawamura bit into the juicy flesh of the berry, stealing the peach-sized berry from Kazuya’s hand with his mouth. Letting go, Kazuya’s glasses slid down his nose in his shock. Not noticing, Sawamura nibbled on the berry with a bright “Thanks!” looking at once years younger, a little silly, and like a small and cute pokemon. His gaze kept returning to Kazuya, though, as if magnetized.
Having a hard time pulling his eyes away himself, Kazuya’s mouth was in real danger of becoming fixed in a grin. “Sounds like you’ve met those people before,” he said. “You mentioned something like that to them too. You know who they are?”
The berry disappeared in Sawamura’s mouth with a few huge bites, juice dripping over his fingers and down his chin, making his lips glitter in the sun. Messily, he licked his lips and fingertips, tongue pink and swift before he answered. Kazuya’s stomach flared with heat.
A tiny scar curved around the corner of Sawamura’s mouth, like a permanent smile-crease.
“Not really!” Sawamura said, frowning sharply. “They were trying to rob Professor Kataoka and Yuuki-san outside of Jubilife. Yuuki-san and I and our teams totally kicked their asses! They wanted his research or something, I don’t know. And they were dressed funny! I think it was supposed to be disguises?” He titled his head back towards the sky, thinking, and Kazuya absolutely didn’t drink in the line of his throat because that would be unprofessional while he was gathering intel. But he did notice hair-thin lines of silvery scars on the side of his neck, disappearing under his shirt.
Sawamura seemed to have a lot of scars. His arms and hands, now that Kazuya got a second to look longer, and even his neck and face. He wondered if the scars continued under his clothes. He wondered where Sawamura got them all. Most of them looked aged.
Sawamura caught Kazuya looking and flushed and self-consciously rubbed his hands down his arms, averting his gaze, and Kazuya did feel a bit bad, but Sawamura’s cheeks tinted freshly red again and when he looked back at Kazuya, there was a bashful, coy sort of curiosity in him, and he wasn’t shy at all in meeting Kazuya’s eyes. Waiting.
His turn to avert his gaze, Kazuya cleared his throat, cheeks immaturely warm. “Right. That sounds like an adventure.”
Sawamura shrugged, jittery. The air felt like sparkling soda between them, prickling and alive. Kazuya wanted to stir it, to taste it, to enjoy it. “I didn’t think they were serious, but now they were doing it again!”
Kazuya wrestled his thoughts back into focus. “Hmmm.” Whatever Sawamura thought, Testu-san took them serious enough to contact Kazuya. And whatever any of them thought, the fact that the two men tried again made them repeat offenders going after pokemon researcher(-adjutant)s with a systematic, if not experienced approach. The men that Kazuya observed and baited were clearly new at their job, or else they’d have been more careful, but they knew what they wanted. Research got published in time anyway, why bother stealing it? Unless there were reasons a published article wouldn’t cover what they wanted. “Yeah, that’s concerning. Did you tell the police?”
Sawamura shook his head. “Yuuki-san said he’d do it and he and the professor sent me on my way. I mean, anyone who wanted Boss’ research would have to go through Yuuki-san! And Boss is scary too!”
“…’Boss’?”
“Professor Kataoka! ‘Cause he wears shades and is always glaring!”
Kazuya’s shoulders were shaking. “Please tell me you call him that to his face.”
“Of course!” Sawamura said, like he couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t and Kazuya just had to see that.
Arceus, he really was too interesting. Kazuya told him so, with a toothy, wide grin, and was rewarded with a dazed, mind-blanked look, followed by a frustrated, confused glare paired with pretty, flushed cheeks.
Kazuya walked Sawamura through the process of filing charges against the two men.
“You’re an absolute country bumpkin, aren’t you,” Kazuya observed amusedly, hands hooked in Sawamura’s elbow, guiding Sawamura around the station, helping him with the forms, and explaining the alakazam trying to get an identikit of the men from both of their memories.
“Don’t make fun of my hometown, Miyuki Kazuya,” Sawamura scowled, oblivious to the policeman’s incredulous stare at their back and forth. Kazuya ignored him, pretended they didn’t know each other, and decided that the resulting gossip among his former schoolmates was going to be a problem for later. Right now, he was having too much weightless fun. “I’ll have you know that Twinleaf Town is well connected! We even have a branch of Sandgem’s Lab’s pokemon pastures!”
“In that case, I’m making fun of you,” Kazuya returned easily, earning a pouting scowl. “And don’t call me by my full name. I’m older and your senior, so call me senpai.”
“You’re only being a so-so senpai, though! You should change that!” Sawamura’s scowl faded. “…Miyuki-senpai?” He titled his head, trying out the sound, letting the syllables run slowly over his tongue, their eyes locked. “Or Kazuya-senpai?”
A shiver went through Kazuya. He never had a senpai-kink before. Fuck. Kazuya tore his eyes away and cleared his throat. “Are you staying at the pokecenter?”
Sawamura was, and so they went back to the pokecenter together. Unfortunately, the training field was occupied so they didn’t have a place to battle, but Sawamura told him he was trying to catch a heracross, so instead Kazuya showed him where he could get the best bug-type-bait honey instead and got to see the transparent, sparkling glee on Sawamura’s expression in exchange. They bickered and talked and chatted, and Kazuya was enjoying himself so much, it was bizarre. If he wasn’t careful, he may actually end up forgetting submitting the result of his little experiment-slash-job to Rei-chan. (Little did he know that far from being a short interlude job that would resolve itself in other people’s hands, starting today, his life was about to be kicked off course.)
How absurd, how ridiculous, how fun.
“I don’t get it. What’s so different about this honey?”
Kazuya shrugged, trying to adjust the weight of backpack straps on his shoulders so that they sat comfortably. “Don’t ask me. I’m no combeekeeper.”
Sawamura was squinting skeptically at the glass of liquid gold.
“You know how to use it, right?”
“Yeah.” Sawamura nodded rapidly. “It’s written in the guide. In the mornings and evenings on the bark of trees that drip sap. Honey trees.”
Kazuya side-eyed him, trying not to get distracted. It was often sunny around Floaroma Town and the sun hit Sawamura’s hair at the right angle to make it glimmer in warm tones of bronze. “Somehow, I’m surprised you actually read that thing.”
Stashing the honey in his sash, Sawamura’s nose scrunched. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that you don’t seem like the studious type.” Kazuya shrugged, reaching over to tug at a strand of Sawamura’s hair pointedly.
Sawamura’s batted his hand away, suspicious and squinty eyed. “What’s that supposed to mean, Miyuki-senpai?!”
Kazuya laughed. “Aw, can’t you figure it out?”
Sawamura puffed up like an offended starly. “I can tell you’re insulting me! Why’re you insulting me?”
Kazuya’s smile had teeth, but his eyes glimmered, half-lidded, and he allowed the moment where their eyes met to drag out. “‘Cause it’s fun.” His smile widened. “Messing with you is fun.”
Sawamura flushed, indignant. “You’ve got a nasty personality!”
Turning the cap he’d borrowed from Sawamura sidewards, Kazuya titled his head challengingly. “So what?”
Outraged, Sawamura spluttered. But after a few moments it turned into laughter and he linked his arm with Kazuya’s, rattling Kazuya through his bouncy steps. There was such a bizarre, innate joy in Sawamura, just looking at him made Kazuya smile and forget all about that criminal organization problem.
“Why do you want a heracross so badly anyway?” Kazuya asked.
“’cause their horn’s so cool!”
What a reason!
Maybe it was because the tension strung between them was as curious as it was thrilling, and Kazuya was so very bad at resisting what piqued his interest.
Kazuya’s personality was an acquired taste, his personable-ness a superficial attribute he adjusted to the circumstances. Even with Kuramochi, arguably his best friend, and Chris, the person whose opinion he valued the most, Kazuya’s social battery ran dry quickly. Spending hours in someone’s presence was only fine so long as he didn’t have to interact with them.
With Sawamura, though, Kazuya surprised himself with how easy it was. Maybe because he was making so much fun of Sawamura, maybe because Sawamura was loud in every sense of the word and didn’t make Kazuya feel like he was under a microscope, was too oblivious to notice Kazuya’s lapses in attention. Maybe it was in the natural fluidity of their interactions, bickering and flirting like a well-practiced dance.
And Sawamura didn’t get tired of him. He dogged Kazuya’s heels, pulled on Kazuya’s sleeves to get his attention, laughed at Kazuya’s attempt to climb a tree to show him where to apply the honey on the bark, and the flush when Kazuya teased him was never only from frustration. His gaze, orbiting Kazuya, was bright.
For someone like Kazuya, who’d made assessing other people into something of an art form, he was easy to read, like an open book, endearingly charming in his straight-forwardness and the simple, transparent expression of his feelings. He hopped in delight when his pokedex got to register a pokemon he hadn’t met before and displayed unexpected patience and interest in observing said pokemon to make notes in his ‘dex. Rather than a catch-them-all, he was a breeder or ranger type of trainer, which pleased and impressed Kazuya in equal parts even as he marveled at the depth revealed beneath the simple-mindedness.
Kazuya, watching him, caught in his pace, didn’t get tired of him either.
That was big. “Hey, Sawamura, you said you’re collecting badges?”
“Yeah! I already got the Coal Badge!”
“Eterna City next, then?”
“Yeah!”
Looking at him sidewards, Kazuya considered his next words again, but it still didn’t seem like a bad idea. Or, well, not that kind of bad idea. Running his eyes up Sawamura’s body again and settling on his bright eyes, brighter smile, and faint flush, because he’d noticed, Kazuya’s hindbrain pointed out it was a very nice bad idea, in fact. What was the worst that could happen? “What a coincidence. I have business there too.”
Sawamura’s mouth split in a gaping, hopeful smile. He all but vibrated in place, eyes sparkling like miniature stars. “Really? Let’s travel together, Miyuki Kazuya! I want to get to know you!”
Filing that comment away into the drawer where he put all of Sawamura’s silly, no-filter straightforwardness, Kazuya finished his pasta, their supper. “Stop calling me by my full name,” he said, a rote complaint at this point.
“Miyuki-senpai,” Sawamura parroted obediently. It was even odds that he’d have forgotten again in five minutes. “Alright, Miyuki-senpai, let’s travel together! Be astounded by me and my team’s might! Wahahaha!” He jumped up from his seat, bubbling with uncontainable energy, and drew glares from the other guests of the restaurant. The waiter beelined in their direction, ready and waiting to battle Sawamura into good manners yet again. Kazuya leaned back in his chair, ready to enjoy the show.
After they’d checked their pokemon in for the night for a check-up and went to their separate rooms, Kazuya laid in bed for a few hours, thinking about the day he’s had, reflecting on what he wanted, and considering his options. In the end, he decided there was no need to come up with an excuse for why he suddenly couldn’t travel with Sawamura to Eterna City after all. Checking his mails last, he accepted another job on the way instead of forwarding it. There was no harm in having fun while juggling work, after all, and this way Nabe wouldn’t have a reason to complain. (Not that Kazuya tended to give Nabe reason to complain, at least about his diligence, but better safe than sorry.
Kazuya bit the inside of his cheek as pretty eyes flashed through his mind.
The worst that could happen wasn’t much, but better safe than sorry for himself too.)