Chapter Text
The bell at the door chimes, singing of a new customer - relaxed atmosphere gone in an instant when Yahaba realises exactly who just made his way into the daycare.
Even though they have never spoken a word before, it’s hard not to recognise a person like this in a place like Solaceon City, where the city community is so closely-knit. Most people in this small town, Yahaba knows by name – not including the tourists coming for the ruins, and, well. People such as this guy.
The man’s got that aura, gaze like a concealed knife at the ready to strike, a buzzcut and the built to back up the threat his expression speaks of.
Needless to say people like him usually don’t pop up in the Sunshine Daycare - Place for all your Pokémon!
Besides, there is a limit to Yahaba’s space and equipment, so he probably won’t be able to accept any of the pokémon a trainer with that kind of aura would prefer - the big, bad, strong ones. The pokéball at Yahaba’s hip makes him feel a little more at ease - in case the stranger would make any trouble, Altaria would definitely take care of it.
To his surprise, though, Sunny perks up where he lies curled on a soft pillow, raises to his feet and bounds up to the stranger without inhibitions. Yahaba blinks, because his eevee is usually guarded around strangers – does not even approach, let alone – did that stranger just bend down like that and Sunny let him scratch his ears?!
“What’s its name?” hopefully-not-a-future-costumer asks, gruffly.
Yahaba blinks, smoothes down his apron, and replies, playing over the annoyance bubbling under his skin: “Sunny.”
The man nods in reply. Yahaba has no idea what he’s going to do with that information, or even what he thinks. And Sunny looks about ready to roll over onto his back so the stranger can scratch his stomach, too. What the hell.
“Can I help you?” Yahaba asks, not quite managing anymore to keep the irritation from his voice entirely. Maybe he should be glad that Sunny can trust this fast, now, but still. Like that?! After it took Yahaba so long to get there.
The stranger’s gaze snaps up, and that’s when Yahaba realises one other thing - the shinx at his feet, excitedly greeting Sunny until its owner picks it up and carries it over. The care and gentleness in how he cradles his pokémon speaks against everything his looks might have suggested. Huh.
The shinx hops from his grasp onto the counter, and before its owner can snatch it back up, Yahaba lifted his hand in greeting almost reflexively. A warm nose touches his fingers in turn, and a light prickle of electricity hushes across his skin, not entirely unpleasant. Yahaba can feel a smile spread on his face.
Pokémon just have that sort of effect on him.
The man across from him stares intensely at the small kind of contact between Yahaba and his pokémon, like he's trying to gauge some hidden motive. It makes Yahaba huff. Wasn’t he the one feeling up Yahaba’s pokémon just a second ago? Hypocrite.
“Is this your shinx?” he asks, biting his tongue the second the words are out.
The stranger looks at him like he can’t believe how dumb Yahaba is. “No, I just picked it up on the way here. I raised my pokémon myself.”
“Ah.” Yahaba glances the shinx over again, admiring how healthy it looks. Glossy fur, eyes bright and curious. This pokémon must have been raised with love, there’s no denying that. Yahaba raises his gaze, trying to gauge its owner just the same.
His face is still closed off, unreadable. Yahaba has no idea what to think of the stranger. Then his eyes narrow as he realises Yahaba has been staring, who jerks back and clears his throat, shooting to keep this professional. “So, you want to leave your shinx in my care?”
The stranger's eyebrows furrow. “It’s just you here?”
Why does that sound so accusive? “It’s not really big enough to warrant hiring an assistant,” Yahaba replies, voice tighter than he would’ve expected. Why is this getting so under his skin? Jeez.
Truth is, by now he could probably go ahead and do it - he’s started getting a good reputation around, so much that even people from the city bring their pokémon here. But Yahaba keeps and keeps postponing looking for anyone to help out, and to be honest, he loves the work too much to mind being swamped. So far he can keep up just fine. There's no need to disturb the peace.
Painfully awkward seconds pass as the stranger stares at his curious shinx walking around the counter - as if trying to figure out if he could really leave his pokémon in Yahaba’s care.
“What’s your name?” Yahaba asks, just to break the awkward silence. He absent-mindedly takes the lid of the treat box the shinx had been sniffing, taking one out, looking at the stranger to confirm whether it was okay to feed it.
His reply is a nod, before he says: “Kyoutani Kentarou,” then gestures to his pokémon. “That’s Sparks.”
Yahaba’s lips quirk up, as Sparks gratefully munches the treat off his palm. “You named your electric type Sparks? A master of creativity, are we?”
Kyoutani looks about ready to grab Sparks and leave, which makes the comment kind of worth it – even though Yahaba has to admit, he finds the name unexpectedly cute. Besides, Sunny is still moving in half-circles around the counter, clearly charmed by the shinx. The new addition to the daycare would really be welcome.
“Do you always insult your customers?” Kyoutani asks, and Yahaba can't tell if it's a jab or a genuine question.
Realising that maybe it is about time to reel the attitude back in – this is a customer of his, after all – Yahaba tries his most charming smile (Oikawa patented). It seems to only make Kyoutani's frown worsen, but, well. You can't have everything in life.
“Sorry, sorry. I'm not the one to talk, actually.”
Startled by a pokémon knocking something over in the backroom (Yahaba gets a feeling it's Buttercup the houndour again), Sparks bounds back towards his trainer and presses into the hands holding him, seeking shelter.
It speaks of a lot of trust. A healthy bond.
Yahaba smiles. “You care a lot, don't you? But so do I. I take care of every single pokémon here like it's my own. Sparks would be in best hands here.”
Kyoutani still doesn't look entirely convinced, but the nods slowly, and allows Sparks to hop off the counter and playfully nudge Sunny again. Both Yahaba and Kyoutani get distracted watching them bounce around each other for a bit, and when Yahaba glances over briefly, he sees the hint of a smile on Kyoutani's lips. If the rumours are true and this man gets into actual fist fights in the big city, then he definitely fails to keep up the tough image down to the core.
“They seem to like each other,” Kyoutani mutters, at last, turning back around to him. “I don't want Sparks to get lonely. Is Sunny always here?”
“Sunny never leaves my side,” Yahaba replies, and Kyoutani nods in approval. Well, that is something. Apparently, he only doubts Yahaba personally, gaze still scrutinising, like he’s trying to figure out whether Yahaba is hiding knives under the counter or his apron. What a strange world.
“Do you make sure they’re groomed properly? What brand of food do you feed?”
It’s a damn interview from there on out. Kyoutani asks about anything, never taking Yahaba’s words at enough value, so Yahaba shows him around the entire daycare, talking and talking.
And he thought Grandma Azarola had been bad with her concerns. It’s ages later that Kyoutani finally nods, satisfied, and signs the paperwork.
By then, Sunny and Sparks have long curled up on the pillow together, and seem almost heartbroken to be torn apart again when Kyoutani leaves.
He’ll be back at six thirty a.m. sharp tomorrow, though, to bring his shinx.
Yahaba isn’t sure what to feel about his new customer, but the addition to his little part time family is absolutely welcome.
---
“Yahaba-san, Yahaba-san!”
It's the end of the day, and Yahaba has already dealt with Grandma Azarola coming in and spouting conspiracy theories about Team Galactic while taking ridiculously long just to pick up her persian. (Which, for some curious reason, she had named Sparrow.)
Yachi bouncing in through the door is a welcome gust of fresh air, and Yahaba smiles immediately.
“Princess! What brings you here? Is there a certain someone you'd like to pick up?”
She nods so wildly her blonde hair bobs up and down, wide smile stretching her cheeks, adorned with two plasters. That clumsy little sunshine.
(There's a reason Yahaba makes an exception for her pokémon – technically by now, Buttercup has grown too much to even still keep it here. But Yahaba had raised it since the houndour had still been a pup, barely coughing up smoke. Besides, Yachi's mother had never lost her faith that her daughter would find the bravery to go on her own journey someday. So she had wanted to make sure that not only Yachi would have a strong pokémon (from Johto, no less), but that it would be ready and well trained when the moment came.)
So, yeah. For a charming little girl like Yachi, of course Yahaba would make an exception. Even when Buttercup had chewed up another pair of rain boots today. And then proceeded to dig up half the garden.
“Y-Yahaba-san!” Yachi proclaims, then, suddenly serious and with a lot of weight. She clenches her fists at her side, lips pressed together, eyebrows furrowed in determination. She takes a deep breath. “ThisismylasttimepickingButtercupup!”
“Uh -” Yahaba blinks, having slight trouble to decipher her jumble of words at first. When he does, Yachi already keeps going: “I'm going on my very own journey!”
And then she smiles again, and Yahaba beams back. “No way! Yacchan! You're going to be Sinnoh's next champion?!”
“Ah, ah well,” Yachi falters, tugging at her hair, not meeting his gaze. “Uhm … Hinata-kun and Kageyama-kun are really … intense … so it's probably going to be them! But!” There she goes, back into her determined stance. “I'll grow stronger, too! And see and catch lots of pokémon!”
“That's the spirit!” Yahaba feels his chest swell with pride, and a little melancholy, too. He'd seen Yacchan every day for the past years, had seen her unable to stutter out words at first, to slowly warming up each day when she came to pick up her pokémon. Seeing her so determined, proudly declaring she was going to chase a dream she had been worried was too much for her …
Yahaba couldn't be happier for her, but knows already that he's going to miss his favourite customer. “You're travelling alone? Or with your two friends?”
Hinata and Kageyama. Yahaba hadn't talked to them more than once or twice, when they had been staring over the fence at the pokémon in excitement. But he knew they were bound to get in all sorts of trouble and a duo to be reckoned with.
“I'm travelling with them!” Yachi declares, her smile growing even more radiant. She laces her fingers behind her back and goes up on her tip-toes with enthusiasm. “So I'm never alone! They promised!”
That prospect would probably be a reason to worry. But if the friendship with those two boys had given Yachi the courage to head out into the world like that, then they would be fine.
“That's wonderful! So you and Buttercup won't be apart anymore, will you?”
“Nope!” Yachi shakes her head again, and she won't stop smiling. She looks so unbearably happy.
“That's amazing,” Yahaba says, warmly, and means it.
---
He sends Yachi off with buttons, stickers, treats, and a big hug for both Buttercup and her. She promises to send postcards from each new town she reaches, and Yahaba feels a little choked up watching her leave.
---
The next morning, Kyoutani brings Sparks for the first time, and makes a whole lot more of a fuss than Yahaba would've expected or was prepared for.
He brings a ridiculous amount of things along for Sparks (Yahaba told him, twice, that food and toys would be taken care of, and only one favourite thing would be needed, at most). And then Kyoutani procceds to double check everything like he is a concerned middle-aged soccer mom – all while looking like he’s ready to pick a gang fight, because this early in the morning, he’s squinting twice as much.
Yahaba only heaves a breath of relief when he’s finally gone.
After that it is smooth sailing, though.
Sparks gets along with everyone and is quickly integrated into the group. Sunny is utterly smitten, and Yahaba watches fondly at the new friendship being struck. He's relieved that, when Kyoutani comes over in the afternoon to pick his shinx up, Yahaba has only good things to tell him.
They talk a little about their pokémon, and then Kyoutani takes his leave. No smalltalk, nothing personal. It's comfortable. A much more pleasant customer than Yahaba would have ever anticipated.
Unexpectedly, Kyoutani is also always on time.
That’s why Yahaba is concerned immediately the first time he … isn’t.
The others drop in to pick up their pokémon and for a while, Yahaba is utterly swept up in work, trying to keep everyone up to date, point out observations and how to best train at home. Both the good behaviour and the bad that could still be helped with a little bit more training.
But even in the middle of it, he keeps glancing at the clock, a kind of uncertainty stewing in him he doesn’t want to put a finger on.
But it's fine, he tells himself, he'll only close up within another hour. That's plenty of time. In the sudden quiet, with Sunny and Sparks dozing peacefully cuddled up in Altaria's feathers, Yahaba takes his time to clean up and go through the schedule for tomorrow in his mind. The minutes tick and tick by.
The entrance hall is cosy, warm and peaceful after a long and exhausting day, but Yahaba doesn't manage to relax, not entirely. Where the hell is Kyoutani?
There are only five minutes left before official closing time when Kyoutani finally bursts through the door, chest heaving and cheeks splotchy, obviously from rushing here. His arm is in a splint and there’s gashes across his cheeks, at his collarbones, disappearing under his shirt.
Alarmed, Yahaba jumps up from the Altaria cuddle pile with human addition, striding over. “What on earth happened to you?” he blurts. “It looks like a wild pokémon attacked you!”
“Yeah,” Kyoutani replies, shrugging with his healthy shoulder, like it’s no big deal. “Sorry I’m late, the hospital wouldn’t let me go earlier even though I told them I was fine. My phone kind of got smashed.”
Yahaba only gapes at him. Is this guy for real? “Did you seriously get into a wild pokémon attack?! Don’t you have any other pokémon besides Sparks to protect yourself in high grass?!”
Even with just Sparks, Kyoutani would have been fine. While not the most experienced, the shinx is definitely strong and electricity can make enough of a difference to flee a fight unharmed.
Kyoutani shakes his head. “Nah. You think I’d let Sparks fight for me? If someone picks a fight I’m finishing it myself, I don’t care if they’re a human or a pokémon.”
Yahaba takes Kyoutani in - how easily he states that, after he got mauled by a wild pokémon. Some of the scratches are deep or long enough to warrant stitches, and that arm definitely looks bad.
“You’re mad,” Yahaba whispers, under his breath, and he’s grateful his voice is low enough for Kyoutani not to hear him because there’s definitely a hint of unexpected awe and Yahaba is not about to let that on. Louder, he tells him: “You were lucky.”
Kyoutani shrugs his shoulder again. “I won. How is Sparks? Was it a good day?”
Yahaba switches back to territory he knows then, telling Kyoutani about the day, how Sparks had shown signs of learning a new attack, eaten with great appetite, played with a group of electric pokémon a bunch of tourist had left at the daycare just for today.
But he can’t help some lingering glances. A guy who would rather take the beating himself than let anything scratch his pokémon, huh?
How strange.
How … unexpectedly charming.
“I’m losing it,” Yahaba tells Sunny as he closes up that day, after Kyoutani has finally left with Sparks close behind. His eevee tilts its head at him, and - to literally nobody’s surprise - doesn’t offer any kind of answer.
---
Yahaba gets his first postcard from Yachi. Her writing is neat and she writes the most textbook perfect cards: the weather, how she has been doing, how Buttercup has been doing, and a small side note about her friends whose pokémon are best friends even though, according to them, they 'should be rivals'.
It's really heartwarming.
Oikawa sends his regards, from another trip that brings the Elite Four member to the edge of the country. Yahaba sighs, grateful he isn't forgotten, but still missing the times where they could just spend time together. Without media attention and a schedule calling Oikawa's attention any second, when it had just been them growing up in the same small hometown.
Yahaba isn't unhappy, right where he is – never planned to make it big, reach the top. Not like Oikawa had. But, still.
Sometimes he feels nostalgic for what used to be.
“Can you believe that?” he asks his pokémon, shaking his head. “Like I'm an old man.” He puts his letters aside, grabs for his phone and resolves to call Watari and spend an evening with great company rather than sulking.
---
Life's going well, Yahaba catches himself thinking, one morning.
That's probably the exact moment he doomed himself, actually. And god does he curse himself for that as he stands rooted to the spot, staring in utter disbelief.
Because this can not be happening.
This has got to be some kind of really idiotic prank.
What is a pokémon egg doing here.
Yahaba is frantic all day, but there is absolutely no doubt who it belongs to, and holy shit. This is the most unprofessional mistake to ever taint the reputation of his daycare.
His stomach is in knots all day.The second word would get out - Yahaba doesn’t even want to think about it.
Mentally, he’s running through anything he could use against Kyoutani, to create some kind of balance where that particular customer couldn’t shove him into a ditch at a whim. But there’s literally nothing. Yahaba is pretty sure by now that Kyoutani never actually got into fights with people like the rumours claim - it’s probably all from pokémon attacks he suffered during his field work for Professor Ukai Sr.
He’s got a squeaky clean record.
His only mistake was not stating that Sparks was definitely female. And jeez, Yahaba should have asked, why was he so caught up in being happy for eevee and shinx hitting it off so well?
Why the hell had Yahaba not checked? This is such an unnecessarily idiotic mistake.
“I need to talk to you,” is what he tells Kyoutani when he comes in, ignoring the fact that his customer’s eyebrows rise in the most unimpressed matter. Couldn't he at least have the decency to look a little alarmed?! “Can you wait? I’m closing up earlier today anyways. It’s important.”
Kyoutani seems to consider. “Can I spend time with the pokémon?”
Yahaba shrugs. Any other customer he would have been wary about, but it’s undeniable that Kyoutani has a hand for pokémon. Besides, maybe it’s a good idea to have him loosen up by playing and cuddling before the awkward talk.
“Go on ahead outside. You remember the way?”
Kyoutani looks like he has a skip in his steps when he heads off, and Yahaba grinds his teeth. How on earth will Kyoutani even react once he hears the news? For all the weeks he has been a customer now, Yahaba still hadn't grasped his character, can't gauge a potential reaction at all.
And, of course. There's Grandma Azarola, here to pile on to his worries. If someone like her found out about the disaster … Yahaba would be doomed.
He spends the next half hour patiently explaining that no, he did not mix special drugs in the food like the papers said, and no, he did not think Team Galactic would cause the apoyalypse, and no, he did not plan on poisoning any pokémon, accidentally or on purpose.
It’s the same old like every week, and this time when she’s gone, Yahaba doesn’t even feel relieved. The worst part is still ahead of him.
Well, time to get this over with.
He finds Kyoutani in Altaria’s embrace, covered by cotton-candy soft wings. Yahaba stares at his pokémon humming in perfect harmony, already beyond smitten with Kyoutani. Literally what the hell do his pokémon have with this guy?
It's like they can't help but fall for him, instantly.
His greetings get stuck in his throat when he realises the tips of Kyoutani’s ears are red with happiness. Yahaba forces himself to clear his throat and look elsewhere just in case his brain decides to take notice of more useless details like that which could throw him off.
Sparks bounds up to greet Yahaba, and he takes her on his arms as he makes his way over. (Why. Hadn't he. Checked.)
Kyoutani awkwardly tries to wiggle out of Altaria’s stubborn embrace, no doubt swallowing some cotton feathers in exchange for his freedom. Is he embarrassed?
“We have a problem,” is the first thing Yahaba blurts, making Kyoutani’s relaxed expression close up with a frown and furrowed eyebrows. Way to go.
“Come again?”
“Sparks isn’t a male pokémon, Kyoutani.”
Kyoutani squints at him, looking almost suspicious. “And you're telling me these groundbreaking news why?”
Refusing to put it more clearly, Yahaba settles to show the result and leads him inside, all pokémon on their heels.
Kyoutani freezes where he stands, and Yahaba can't see his expression, but very clearly hear him blurt: “For real?!”
“I wish I was kidding, trust me,” Yahaba replies. Sparks rushes off, cuddling up to Sunny. It had sort of broken Yahaba’s heart to keep them apart all day, but he hadn’t known to help himself otherwise, panicking slightly.
The two of them begin grooming each other, looking perfectly at peace.
If only Yahaba could feel that kind of peace, but his entire existence still depends on whatever the hell Kyoutani is going to do now. “Listen - I know this was highly unprofessional of me, but - here’s an offer: I’ll take full responsbility for the egg, and you won’t go sell this juicy story to the Sinnoh Watcher.”
Kyoutani stares at him like he has never heard more bullshit in his life. Yahaba has a bad feeling. Fuck, he wouldn’t actually have taken Kyoutani for someone who’d go sell a story to fuck up the guy who babysits his beloved shinx six times a week.
“The fuck are you talking about? This is Sparks’ right? Obviously I’ll take care of it.”
Yahaba blinks at him. “But you sounded really pissed off and upset -”
“I was just surprised,” he snaps, surprisingly defensive. “What do you think I'm gonna do, reject this pokémon egg?!”
“Well, first, it’s just as much Sunny’s -” Yahaba begins, not even sure why he's so indignant. “And second, what do you think you’re gonna do? Take a fragile egg into the next battle with a wild pokémon?”
Kyoutani’s jaw is working in frustration. He knows Yahaba is right. “I could leave it in the daycare and take it home along with Sparks.”
“What makes you think you can just claim it, though?” Yahaba asks, more irritated than he would’ve expected.
“You’d have it for most of the day anyway,” Kyoutani shoots back. “It’d only be fair - for Sunny and Sparks, too.”
This time Yahaba can’t argue with him.
And that’s how, somehow, he ends up in joint custody over a pokémon egg with Kyoutani Kentarou, the most unexpected customer who has ever made it through these doors.
Sometimes Yahaba can't believe his life.