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Moon's memory of the color red is not the prettiest, nor the clearest, admittedly, after the many things and accidents she has gone through as of late.
When she thinks of the color, it's always the same cliché associations that everyone makes: the color of anger, the color of fury, of blood and of violence. Red is never a pretty color, not even in their variations. She wears it on her little beanie for aesthetic reasons, and when somebody asks her why it's red, she just says it's a matter of fashion.
But when she meets Gladion– or rather, when she starts to know him better, it might as well seem like it's fate.
He wears red almost like it's a statement. It's mostly overlapped by the black fabric of his sweater, but it's always there. His body is all pale, golden and green but even long after their battle is over and he can throw those rags away, he still wears the same combo of colors.
Moon finds it incredibly interesting. He's a walking oddity. From the way he talks to the way he shakes his head down to how he smiles only when she's not looking– when he thinks she isn't, at least.
He has a very pretty smile. It's nothing like the violence the red in his clothes scream.
"So," she says one day they are walking to the Battle Royale. She has a can of lemonade in her hand, and he has another, "why are you still wearing those clothes?"
No emotions surface in his face at this odd question, but confusion flickers in the stiffness of his body, just for a second. They stop walking, people striding past them, overlooking the exchange between the Royale's King and the Champion of Alola.
Gladion surveys her for a short moment, then takes a sip of his lemonade. "You are also wearing the same clothes."
Moon had refused to change her choice of clothing after the Island Challenge had been over, and that had been years ago. She does have some other garments she would wear for special occasions (a skirt there, a hat here, some fancy sunglasses another day) but her daily outfit still remains untouched for the most part.
"My clothes are very much fine, thank you." A loud snort follows her words, and she pouts at his reaction. "But you are still wearing the same thing you wore when you were in Team Skull. All red and black. I thought you'd use something else after you left."
The way he blinks makes her think he genuinely has nothing to say. It's not new that Gladion is a man of very few words, those he says always very clear and direct. He's not one to really stop and think of what to say, because for the most part, all he says has a hard-shaped meaning. He spends most of the time in silence, analyzing his surroundings and thinking of what to do.
But he's also terribly impatient. Which justified his abrupt departure form Team Skull back in the day but now does not justify how long it's taking him to drop the outfit.
It wouldn't be hard for her to believe he is into the look, though. But she's curious as to why.
What Moon mistook as silence to end the conversation turns to be merely a pause, as he turns to her again before beginning to walk forward. "I like the colors. I like red a lot, actually."
She wants to say it doesn't fit him, but it actually does. Granted, his surroundings are always white, black and metallic, sometimes with green, others with pink and yellow and the many colors of Alola. But his palette of choice is so uncanny it's very hard for him to blend in anywhere in the region, other than Po Town and maybe Wela.
The choice of red as a preferred color instead of black – which covers most colors in his clothes – surprises her. "I always thought you'd be more into black. It's all I see you wear."
A clear hum rings through the crowd as they enter the building. It's surprisingly empty despite the number of people outside, which makes her believe the battle will begin soon. This time around, she's only there to watch him battle, for her Pokémon have retired to Poképelago for the day.
So Moon thinks he will leave immediately. But he doesn't. He stands there with her, for once pensive, as if hesitant. Rather than thinking of what to say, it's as if he's mulling over whether he should tell her or not. He looks troubled.
Gladion finally speaks again, resolute, staring right into her eyes. "Red is the color of the sunset, and of the sun, and of roses. It's a very vibrant color." The associations are new to her, so positive and so telling of how he thinks and what kind of mindset he possesses. A stranger would have thought a man as dangerous as him would have much more harsher thoughts about the color.
She discovers it to be gentle and all sorts of beautiful.
"It's also the color of your beanie."
This last part is murmured, but he's still staring right at her. Gladion has a very characteristic frown on his face, but the lack of harshness in his voice and how his eyes are mildly soft tells her he is anything but angry. The girl reaches up to touch the edge of her wool hat, askance written in her features as she arches an eyebrow at him.
It is now that he directs his eyes to somewhere to his right, fumbling with his words as he elaborates. "It reminds me of a certain trainer I know very well. And this is also a memory of the adventures I lived with said trainer, and I'm rather fond of that." A finger under his chin, Gladion directs her a resigned smile. "It's not that easy to let go of all that."
They had gone through quite some events together. Taking down Aether, Faba, searching for Lusamine, battling at the League and hunting Ultra Beasts down together. Moon and him had only become close well past the equator of her adventure, but those things they had done together had meaning all the same.
And him keeping those memories so close to his heart is so unexpected warmth creeps up her neck and takes to her cheeks, stinging them with scarlet. The shock for his blunt and outspoken behavior widens her eyes and covers her in a color he chuckles at.
"It's also the color of your cheeks whenever I say anything relatively honest. It's cute." Taking a step closer to her, he takes hold of her chin with two fingers, relishing in how she is almost squirming with the touch of a single hand. "I like knowing I can fluster you this easily."
The embarrassment begins to die down as he chuckles, and she twists her face into a faux frown he doesn't appear to care about. "You're just being mean at this point."
"Well, if you get to push my buttons, it's only fair I do the same, don't you think?"
As soon as he finishes that statement, he has let go of her and an announcement blares across the hallway, to which he takes a few steps back and pushes his hands into his pockets, walking away and waving her goodbye with the utmost nonchalance.
As Moon goes up the stairs with the pink residue of her embarrassment still soaking her cheeks, she thinks about the possibility of buying red clothes for herself. That way, maybe he would find her easier in the crowds of the Battle Royale.
Definitely not because of what he had said.
Absolutely not.