Work Text:
The stories that the walls of Blueberry Academy could tell--its rather strange conception, the unpredictability and anxiety of the student body the past year, the amount hands students have changed holding for one trivial (or not so) reason or another.
Daddy has always told her that gossip is fruitless. That it always comes back to the original ear, eventually, and unsurprisingly, Lacey understands well. Even though she's prided herself on being a tactfully open book--refusing to express certain things when she wasn't comfortable with an individual and otherwise doing her best to stay honest and sweet--she's still been a topic of conversation among people. Not always in the best ways. Minus her mini bouts of irritability with Drayton, she'd like to think that she's always done a fair job of trying to make allies with everyone.
She was taught young: It was easier to attract more Cutiefly with honey than vinegar.
...except, the author of said piece of wisdom left out the part about just how many flies that being honeyed could lure. And said flies were not always cuties--to put it kindly. Entering her third year of academy life and it was like clockwork: at some point in the day, there would be a boy--with a decent face, a courteous invitation to speak, beads of sweat down the neck or palms that really need to be wiped (neither of which escaped her astute gaze) and a flimsy excuse the moment she breathed about her father. Rinse. Repeat. Sigh.
In all fairness, mentioning her father was a premier tactic in weeding out the faint of heart--mostly everyone. And maybe it wasn't the nicest thing, to just mention her very intimidating father, to prune away her "admirers", but it had to be done. Much as she dreamed of it all--the prospect of being in love, in being adored and wooed with all of the fixings, Lacey refused to settle.
If a boy couldn't stand up at the idea of meeting her father, who she loved as fiercely as soft and cute things, then he couldn't stand next to her. Ding ding, next question.
Pastel pink painted fingernails sink further into Kieran's university jacket, the noise of shifting fabric is a welcome distraction from the other stimuli around: flickering gazes, hands poorly concealing someone making a hushed comment to another, some uncoordinated rhythm of students going this way or that--the more haphazard steps clearly trying to stay out of their way.
Out of his way.
A candied smile crosses her lips. All according to plan.
Lacey knows the rules of the academy walkways: anything that's seen can and will be spoken of. It's exactly what she's banking on, having asked Kieran to escort her off to class.
Honestly, she didn’t mind a little attention every now and again, but she’d been feeling close to her wits end with a school dance around the corner and a whopping no one approaching her meeting her standards. She needed a break.
And really, Kieran was a really good sport about her suggestion. Catching her drift pretty quick about the fact that if there was anyone that could repel some people right now, it was him.
“People are gonna talk, y’know. Are you sure you wanna be ‘ssociated with me?” Was his cautious question, the day before. Concerned and not for himself.
“We’ve been studying together for a little bit now, of course I won’t mind. And, don’t forget we’re friends!” And she’d meant it.
Although several months had passed since his reign as the Blueberry League Champion, his reputation among the other students was still… polarizing. To put it mildly. Those who weren’t involved in the League Club and pursued other means of Pokémon centered education? Probably didn’t know anything about him and could care less about him being back. Those who were in the League Club, though? The range was from being glad he was better to wanting him to stay away from any and all things League Club related.
Still, despite having been a recipient of his attitude during the worst of moments, Lacey remained among the more forgiving sentiments. She meant what she’d told him some time ago that she didn’t believe in the whole holding grudges thing and that as members of the club–ah, a former member, in his case, they should be able to lean on each other.
(She’d also made sure to assure him that she happened to enjoy his company regardless of what anyone said, after he accepted her proposal.)
But funnily enough, she was doing all of the leaning right now. Maybe a smidge more than was necessary. Her grip loosens on him.
“O-Oh! I’m sorry about…” The hushed apology began as her eyes flickered to his, only for him to shake his head, singular bang bobbing along with him.
“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it. ‘S…not like I can really feel it anyways.”
That’s right. His health–his arm injury, is…well, it’s a new development, much like the blossomed friendship between them.
When he’d first entered Blueberry Academy, he’d melted into every shadow, barely met the gaze of anyone, as if he’d combust if someone’s eyes were on his too long. A shame, because those eyes of his were pretty–like shiny golden coins. He and that messy hair of his reminded Lacey of a scraggly little Lillipup. The kind that she used to pass along grassy routes when taking walks with her dad in childhood–and wanted to snuggle, because seriously, those little faces! He had that kind of charm, but very little of the bark of a Lillipup–at least so she thought. So everyone thought. She hadn’t gotten to speak to him that much, outside of introducing herself.
(She wanted to, though.)
Putting up his hair caused the most dramatic personality change Lacey’s seen up to date. And she’s seen Elesa dye her hair jet black.
One by one, he challenged the Elite Four.
He’d finally met her eyes, challenged her and crushed her team with an intensity she wouldn’t have thought possible from him months prior. The picture taken to commemorate his victory was awkward. Extremely awkward. Every inch of his body language screamed that he’d rather be anywhere but next to her in her cute wonderland, but Kieran humored her enough to get it over with. Scowled mighty hard. Truthfully, she felt cheated at the time; she’d heard Carmine, say in her own way, that her brother had a smile meant for a camera.
…she hoped that didn’t mean the frankly unnerving full toothed grins that she’d seen cross his lips after Juliana showed up. Good dental hygiene was nice, but she could deal with never having to see those looks again.
Kieran looked as ragged as he ran everyone else during those days. And in her case, he literally did run her. Granted, she chased after him voluntarily, but she felt it was necessary–to speak some sense into him. Cute and delicate she has always been, but daddy did not raise a daughter with no spine. Their “conversations” those days were Lacey letting him have it, telling him to have a heart and be considerate to the other people that didn’t have the time to eat, sleep and breathe battling. To which he’d combat that if they were serious about battling then they would have time to pursue strength.
(Foot stomps and impatient leg shakes became a whole language between the two of them and though frustrating at the time, it’s almost funny to look back on now.)
But she refused to quit giving him earfuls until either he’d relent on some ridiculous rule (which seldom happened) or he’d hide himself somewhere in the Terrarium and train until he passed out.
Enough times of finding him randomly sprawled out somewhere and hearing his stomach growl, lead her to leaving out small meals in places he frequented–like leaving traps for a Patrat. Sometimes it worked, other times some wild Pokémon got a nice helping of Academy food.
There’s a particular memory that sticks with her: asking him during that time why strength mattered more than anything else to him now. Surprisingly, he answered. And he’d said because he never wanted to go back to being the old him that no one took seriously. Promptly left afterwards, but it felt weighty …made her wonder what he’d been carrying with him.
Relieved as she was at Juliana wrestling the reigns of Champion from him (even if that had its own set of issues) , much of Lacey worried for Kieran’s state of mind. There was something sad about the scene of watching him fall to his knees with everyone turning their backs on him. After that day, she hadn’t seen him in a long time. It felt like Kieran was some collective memory everyone dreamed up, the way he withdrew entirely from the system. Juliana didn’t speak of what happened on the…”school trip”, but she hadn’t seemed entirely herself after it. She seemed more tired, more lost in thought.
The league rebounded from all the chaos pretty well, all things considered.
The day Lacey did see Kieran again, he seemed better–much better, than even when she’d met him. There was some of that soft charm, sure, but something else too...with a healthier confidence in the mix. He met her eyes briefly, and he seemed more ashamed than shy. Oh, did he apologize to her. Enough for a lifetime, about how he’d treated her, and caused way too much trouble for her.
The initiative hit her positively–he apologized with more gusto than any other guy ever had who approached her, guys without a bit of a messy history.
Accepting felt easy because it felt genuine. It was also easy to volunteer to be his tutor in classes that he’d missed. Despite his demeanor during his championship reign, his skills in battle clearly showed that he was disciplined when he put his mind to something. And there was no way she could leave him in Crispin’s hands knowing that the other boy had the attention span of an Emolga. Bless his heart.
The Kieran she’d gotten to know–really know, over a couple of months of studying was a treat–like a little flower in a cave, sort of treat. He’d be reserved sometimes, witty during others, but incredibly genuine–and the twang of his accent that came through when he was comfortable reminded her of her own speech (although certainly not as thick as his). She could listen to him talk for a while, if she’s honest.
He couldn’t manage technology to save his life and yet could tell her every kind of difference in two Politoed.
It was cute.
He was cute.
Like a whole lot of cute. Not entirely puppy cute, either, because puppies, for one, didn't have her needing to angle her head upwards to look at them. Not even her sweet pea of a Granbull.
They’d been spending at least an hour together daily, but walking beside him really drilled in that he gained a few inches during his break. Filled out more too. Kieran looked near gaunt during his champion days, so it was a welcome development. A relieving one. …and even if the arm she’d been holding was without feeling? Well, Lacey sure felt some sort of firmness in that sleeve.
Being a bit taller than average, feeling so itty bitty was a luxury that Lacey didn’t have often. It made her feel giddy.
Certainly no complaints about any of the current situation from her. Except maybe one.
“Definitely think it’s workin, your little scheme I mean.” The amusement in his tone slices through her wandering thoughts, and ends her completely subtle not–gawking-at-him session. She’s grateful that he’s oblivious about that last part. She meets his small smile with a grin.
“It’s not a scheme, cute girls don’t scheme Kieran.” It was most certainly a scheme in every sense of the word. “We’re simply unable to do such a thing.”
“You’re soundin’ as whacky as sis.”
“Whacky?!” Her cheeks puff in a pout, lowering her voice while he snickered. “I’m not the one who’s glaring as we walk.”
“You said “unapproachable as possible”…figured the worst thing anyone could see is me makin’ that same look I had before. Did y’see the guy who screamed?”
Okay, laughing wasn’t the kindest thing to do but at least she had the courtesy to stifle her giggles in her spare hand. He shared in the guilt by joining in. Yet again, she’s acknowledging that Carmine was right about his genuine smile.
“You get an A+ for dedication.”
“Yeah? Just like old times, huh?” Even if he was okay enough to lightly jest about some aspects of the past, she’d been much more wary about anything pertaining to it. Still, she’d play along for the time being.
“Well, you’re missing walking ten paces ahead of me and trying to drown out my scolding.”
“I wasn’t THAT bad, was I?”
An appropriate moment for her to turn her attention back to the hallway, while he mumbled an “ah man” under his breath. Bantering with him was one of her favorite little things these days and it was a shame that their moments together sped by so fast. So much of Lacey secretly wanted more. Walking to all of her classes like this with him would be nice–across the Terrarium too, and maybe even–
Her cheeks began to burn.
Ding ding. The complaint.
That she just had to start kind of sort of falling for the one pretty boy who seemed actually at ease with her, and the one that one of her fellow League mates clearly also had some feelings towards. One that seemed to be completely oblivious to any potential anything too. A schoolwide dance was coming up soon and he hadn’t breathed a word in her direction, not that she expected him to, but it’d be nice if he did. Ugh. Great.
She huffs, suddenly, probably seeming moody to him in the process. Immediately the ease in his eyes dissipates, apology permeating every aspect of his features.
“I’m–uh, sorry, I shouldn’t have brought up–”
Oh no, no no, she was not going to give him the wrong impression here–neither could she tolerate another slew of apologies no matter how nice his voice was.
“No, no I wasn’t upset at you! I was just thinking…you’ve been a real sweetie, you know? A scowly sweetie. This plan was totally silly, but you played along perfectly.” Lacey directs the biggest smile she could in his direction and part of her swells with hope at the way his eyes widen, how he looks away and reaches to twiddle at the lone indigo bang in front of his face. She wonders if she was hallucinating a wee bit of pink on his ear.
“S-Sweetie? Well I uh…no problem, Lacey. I mean, ‘s the least I could do. You put up with me a lot–in the past an’ even now. I ‘ppreciate it more than you know. So, if you ever need somethin’ else an’ you wanna lean on me, just ask, kay?” He just had to add another nail in her coffin–pausing his walk to smile at her. A smile that could probably grow sunflowers and Sunflora, oh it was so unfair! Now it was her turn to look away from him and let her face attempt to become her hair color.
Mercifully, her classroom, their destination, is a couple of steps away. Lacey yearned for a textbook to burrow her face into.
“Since you offered, don’t be surprised when I need you to be snarly on the way to Biology, later.” …but she wasn’t going to squander an opportunity.
He chuckles and even if every bit of her didn’t want to, she separates herself from his arm. “See ya for our study later?”
“Of course!”
“Hey, Lacey? The guy you let take ya to the dance ‘s gonna be somethin’ real special.”
Special and nonexistent, at this rate.
That’s what Lacey thinks as she pays attention to absolutely nothing in her Battle Studies III course. Her mind entertains her with the idea of twirling about the entrance to the school, her waist secured and golden eyes peering down at her.
The scent of syrupy apples sticking to her is welcomed.