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The Tale of Ice Cream
“Chocolate.”
“…”
“You said…I could have any flavour?”
“You always have chocolate. Sure you don’t want to try something new?”
“Nuh-uh.”
Bea rolled her eyes at her brother’s response but smiled all the same. Getting Allister out of his comfort zone always took some doing, but chocolate ice cream cones were definitively on the pile of ‘not on your life, buster!’
He’d sooner volunteer for public speaking than give them up.
“Fine, fine chocolate it is.” Allister tugged at Bea’s shirt and instinctively moved behind her a little. “What’s that for, Alli?”
“You gonna ask me to g-go up…an’ ask the seller…what I want?”
“Not this time.”
His face immediately brightened at the news, even if it was hidden behind his mask as per usual. She could always tell.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure,” she stated, holding her hand out for him to take. “I’ll even let you stay here if you like, or come up with me and look at the pictures. His wagon probably has air conditioning though, though if you can wait I won’t force you.”
“…Thanks, sis. I like options.”
“I know you do,” Bea said, giving her brother’s hand a little squeeze as he decided to take it.
If she had been the anxious type she may well have taken the hand too given the oppressive heat; Galar wasn’t known for its warm weather and air conditioning was hard to come by.
“Two scoops of chocolate ice cream please, and two scoops of mint chocolate chip for me.”
“Ah, gym leader Bea! Figured I might see you around here,” The vendor exclaimed, doing his best to not stare at the figure staunchly resisting the urge to hide behind his customer. “Trying to beat the heat eh? Coming right up you two!”
With ice creams in hand the two opted to instead sit around the corner in the shade of a tattered awning that only Stow-on-Side’s back alleys could provide. Shady and secluded.
A gathering of Cutiefly and Ribombee hovered in the distance; Bea shielded her cone instinctively on spotting them.
“…”
“What? I know they like sweet things too.” Although Allister hadn’t said anything Bea could feel him grinning like an idiot at her overprotectiveness.
Even just seeing those Pokémon is rare in Galar. Guess the warm weather really is setting in then. They probably have better things to do than pester me for a scoop.
Most places were already out of ice cream but Bea’s sweet tooth necessitated her knowing most of the hole-in-the-wall vendors if she wanted a break without being stared at. Speaking of…
“You didn’t…go for…Pecha berry…with sprinkles,” Allister asked between slurps (thankfully removing his mask to avoid any stickiness).
“I can’t have people seeing that in public, you know that. No weakness.”
Bea had wondered whether Allister was going to bring it up or not. When she was in the comfort of her own home she could enjoy her sweet treats to her heart’s content (if the tub of Mago, Wiki, and Cheri berry blended ice cream stashed at the back of the fridge was anything to go by). No judgment perceived or otherwise from her peers. She was free to do as she pleased.
Looking down at her mint flavoured ice cream slowly trying to escape her cone and onto the rugged pavement sent a pang of annoyance through her: why shouldn’t she enjoy what she liked in public?
Sure she liked mint (and it definitely didn’t taste of toothpaste to her, despite what her brother would claim) but she loved sweet things more.
They were alone in the backstreets. Bea looked left, right, and left again to confirm. Who was she afraid was going to see her? The vendor? Maybe he would mention it to someone by accident if she ordered differently.
It was all so needlessly convoluted; clearly Allister thought the same as he cleared his throat.
“You…um…shouldn’t worry about…what people think…right? We’ve both…got our masks.”
“I…” Bea paused, crossing her legs on the stone. She hadn’t ever thought of it like that. Allister’s mask was definitely more physical than hers but that didn’t mean hers was any less of a reality. If anything he was more honest with how he felt.
People could see his mask and judge him for it, but people were judging her without seeing it at all.
Allister was freer than she was ever going to be if she wasn’t honest.
“You’ve got a point,” she eventually said, sighing deeply. “I’m just worried about it clashing with my image.
It sounded far less vain in her head. Aloud it sounded almost pretentious.
“H-hey, I’m not gonna force you or nothin’.” Allister’s cone disappeared into his mouth in a single bite, grateful there was no one else around to see the smudges of chocolate littering his features. “You didn’t force me…to do things t’day. Gradual steps, right?”
“Right. That’s a very mature thing to say, Alli. You’re getting better at this whole thing.”
“Is jus’ copyin’ you mature? I jus’ said what you’d say t’ me…”
“I’d say it is if you can apply what I’m saying to new scenarios.”
Allister continued to shy away from the praise but Bea could see her words were having an effect. The same could be said for her, her brother was naturally insightful and her encouragement would sometimes lead to gems such as that.
“Try m’ best…”
“Me too, Alli. Me too.”
The Tale of the Market
“You seem on edge, sis? Somethin’ up?”
“I’m watching the door.”
“No kiddin’…” Allister followed Bea’s gaze across the kitchen to the living room and beyond. The morning routine had gone by with the front door firmly in her sights, glances every now and then to make sure…well, he wasn’t sure what yet.
His sister was concerned, that much was clear. Allister would have gone as far as to say she was nervous, if such an idea wasn’t laughable. His sister did not get nervous. She worried, yes, but nerves and Bea just didn’t seem to mesh.
Allister prodded his toast thoughtfully. A picture made up of two different jigsaws seemed about right.
“I’m waiting for…something.”
Allister watched as her grip tensed ever so slightly as she drank her coffee. So unlike her. Whatever it was had to be a big deal. He didn’t want to pry but curiosity came as naturally as breathing to his critical mind.
“Somethin’ special?”
“Not exactly. It’s…very normal really.”
“Doesn’t look normal.”
“Just because it’s normal doesn’t mean I’m good at it.”
“…Guess so.” It was hard to argue with the logic.
The rest of the morning went by in much the same fashion, with Bea trying to pretend she wasn’t burning a hole through their wall with her staring, and Allister running through all the possibilities in his head.
Doctor’s appointment? Nah, she’s not sick. I think. Maybe she’s sick and doesn’t want me to know? Maybe it’s a package? Mail comes at different times so that’d explain it. Or…”
A flurry of knocks at the door jolted him out of the daydream. Bea wasn’t much better off, but her anticipation didn’t boil over as he’d expected it to. More…deflated. Like a sad balloon at a party long since over.
“Guess I can’t run from her forever.”
“Her?”
“Hey Bea, I know you’re in today!!!”
Allister’s brow furrowed, his senses calming after the initial sensory input. He knew that voice.
“Let’s make the best of the great weather, right?” Another round of knocking followed the distinctive cadence of someone with a Hulbury accent.
“That’s…Nessa? You’re stressed about her? Why?”
“She’s been pestering to take me shopping since last league season,” Bea hissed into her sleeve, before piping up in a more neutral tone:
“Be right there!”
Her gaze immediately sullied.
“Ugh…I don’t have the energy for clothes shopping. I have clothes already!”
“That’s technically…true.” Bea just rolled her eyes at his quip. She didn’t refute it.
She had 8 exact copies of her current training outfit; one for every day of the week plus a spare. It was all starting to make sense to him now.
“Nessa wants you to try on new things? That’s doesn’t sound…so bad? She’s makin’ an effort, sis! Try and…have fun.”
“…Are you going to come with me?”
“Nah.”
“I’m sooo glad you finally agreed to this, Bea! We’re gonna make you look so good!”
It must have been the thirtieth time Nessa had told her exactly that but, as much as she hated to admit it, the constant reinforcement was working and Bea found herself enjoying the day more and more.
Relaxation did have its place in a training regime after all.
Nessa had opted for more casual clothes today, consisting of a flower print top, jeans, sneakers, and a baseball cap, yet the Hulbury gym leader was still immaculately put together. Bea didn’t know how she did it. It just…worked.
Next to the sprawling labyrinth of Stow-on-Side’s markets she was positively dazzling.
Fashion was about as alien as actual aliens to Bea, but she found the tiniest shred of jealousy in the back of her mind just couldn’t be shaken out when considering her friend. She was a natural, and a model, but still.
“If by ‘agreed’ you mean wore me down over time, then yes,” Bea muttered, but still allowing herself to be led through the many stalls that had been set up.
Nessa pretended not to hear, instead opting to stop at one such stand with patterned jeans on display.
“What do you think?”
“Those are jeans. There’s rips in some of them.”
“And…” The Hulbury gym leader raised an eyebrow, keeping a laugh (badly) in check.
“They’re…jeany. Yes.”
“…”
“…”
“…I don’t think they’re up to scratch, never mind.”
“How can you tell that?”
“Look,” Nessa sang, brushing a finger over the patterns. “Sewn on after, not part of the base material. We’ll try another stall, there’s one around the corner that looked promising!”
“How do you know more about Stow-on-Side’s markets than I do?”
Bea immediately bit the words back. Of course Nessa knew more about it, Bea actively ignored the clothing vendors, navigating the labyrinth only for groceries and knick-knacks Allister had poked her for.
Just because she lived here didn’t mean she actually knew any of the intricacies. Nessa could weave deftly through the hubbub as if she was swimming. So at home.
If Nessa was annoyed in any way by her comment she didn’t show it. She’d been extremely patient with her since the morning had began, in stark contrast to her boisterous running commentary.
“What do you think?”
Bea snapped back in, mentally chiding herself for zoning out as Nessa waved a top in her face.
“It has little Machops and Tyrogue on it. Maybe better for pyjamas…I think?”
“Not bad, not bad! No reason pyjamas can’t be fashionable too. I’ll get this one too.”
“You don’t have too, seriously, “Bea said, eyeing the multitude of tote bags Nessa was carrying. “You’ve spent a fair amount already. There’s no guarantee I’ll wear any of it, you know that right?”
“Sure I do.”
The swiftness of the response caught Bea offguard, but her friend’s face showed only honesty and warmth.
“Then why…?”
“Because just having the option to wear something different will work wonders for you, trust me.”
“I…suppose?”
“Ah, you’ll understand when you’re older,” Nessa said with a grin, waving the vendor to keep the change. Bea wasn’t sure when she’d even paid in the first place (and was almost certain she’d given over a £20 note) but apparently the pyjama top was hers as well now.
Wait a second…
“H-hey wait! You’re only older by a few of months!” Bea received a pat on the head in response, their difference in height only exacerbating the sentiment.
“Shhh, let your big sister get you some clothes already.”
“Hmph…if you insist.”
“I do.”
The Tale of Fitting In
The look on her brother’s face spoke more than words ever could.
It happened again.
Thankfully Allister settled for slinging his school bag onto the floor in the kitchen in a muted dejection instead of storming upstairs and slamming the door to his room. That was always tougher on them both.
“Want to talk about it?” Bea asked, patting the sofa cushion where she’d been reclining. Reclining until the front door had gone and her brother’s silent tears had become apparent.
Allister nodded quickly, scuffing his shoes over the carpet in his haste. He sat, heavily.
“I jus’ don’t get it, sis.”
A pause.
“What don’t you get, Alli?”
“How can I get them to stop? I j-jus’…wanna be left…alone. But they follow m-me around.”
“Did they hurt you?”
Allister shook his head, tossing his mask aside onto the sofa, to which Bea untensed herself ever so slightly. One of these days she was going to lose her temper properly at how little his school was doing to combat the bullying.
“Th-think you s-scared them off when you showed up…at the gates.” Though his tears were marring the image, Allister gave a tiny smile to Bea; she smiled in return, if a little forced.
Apparently the kids that made Allister’s life difficult hadn’t cottoned on to the fact that Allister had a sister, and said sister was a gym leader and built like a brick sh*thouse. Having someone like that show up outside the school to collect him one day with a death glare in her eye was a decent enough deterrent for physical violence.
Bea found herself thankful for the discipline her parents had instilled in her at such a young age. If Allister had come home again with bruises all up his arm, limping, or with his book bag missing again then no number of Officer Jenny’s would be find their remains.
It was hyperbole of course, but anyone who dared lay a finger on her brother was fair game.
Still, that didn’t stop them from just being mean verbally. Whispering. Pointing. Notes left by his locker. Normal kid stuff but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
“I’m sorry, Alli.”
“D-don’t be! Um…please, don’t be,” Allister repeated, sheepish at his change in volume. “You’ve done ‘nuff for me already.”
“The school should be doing more,” Bea said shortly.
She hadn’t meant to deflect but it was true. The best she’d gotten out of her numerous phone calls and emails to them was ‘we are committed to an upstanding and safe environment for our students to learn in. Allister can always report any incidents that break school rules to a hall monitor or teacher.’
Put simply, if he doesn’t say anything then we don’t see it.
Those hall monitors must be blind then. It puts the blame on him for not speaking up, not on those pricks who give him a tough time.
“I never did anythin’ to them. They’re just m-mean anyway.”
“Maybe I should come in and give a presentation on fighting types during assembly? Get the message across clearer.”
“I d-don’t want you f-fightin’ m’ battles, Bea.”
“I know…but there isn’t any shame in asking for help. You know that, right?”
He nodded, picking his mask up again. He stared at it for a moment, as if seeing a reflection of himself in the unwavering features.
“I wanna solve this m’self. I wanna be strong, like you!”
“Asking for help doesn’t make you less strong.”
“…”
“In fact I’d go as far to say asking for help is a very strong thing to do. It makes you brave, Alli.”
“It…does?”
Bea nodded emphatically.
“It does,” she repeated. “Staying downstairs and talking to me instead of hiding in your room for hours is strength. I know part of you still wants to do that, but you’re resisting.”
“Tch…s-see right through me.”
“I’m your sister, it’s my job to be there for you.”
“…Thanks, Bea.” Allister unfolded his arms and Bea instinctively offered her own for him to latch on to. The tears had stopped for now, leaving his cheeks red and puffy.
“You’re very welcome, Allister. I don’t have all the answers, and sometimes people will be mean without a reason. Even if you didn’t wear a mask or talk to ghosts kids will just find something else to judge. They made their judgment long before they figured any of that out.”
“So…?”
“So it’s not on you. It’s not your fault they’re like this. It’s their fault, or Arceus help them their parents’ fault. Nothing anyone can say or do can change an idiot’s mind. They’re idiots, Alli. All of them idiots. If they can’t see how cool you are then that’s their problem.”
“I’m…cool?”
“Of course!” Bea mussed his hair slightly as she stared off into the distance. “If I could douse for ghosts with my hair or talk to spirits would that make me cooler?”
“…Maybe.”
“…”
“K-kidding! Mostly…”
Allister's Mimikyu seemed to think so, appearing from the top of the stairs and snuggling its way into his arms. They knew better than any other Pokémon what it was like to feel you were alone, and Bea was happy to oblige them. The distinctive purr it gave off was an extra layer of soothing Allister was in dire need of, and Bea decided to take her leave.
Maybe she'd make them both some cocoa.
The Tale of the Favourite Haunt
Allister loved the night-time of Stow-on-Side. For such a bustling little town to become deserted come the setting of the sun was a magic all of its own.
Bustling had long since turned to silence as Allister gazed across the sloping tin roofs of his home. All the stalls packed up tidily ready for another day of business tomorrow. The Maractus that slept all through the day was no doubt now sleeping at home instead.
Allister caught himself before he got carried away; he could easily waste the night and its beauty having his mind run away from him going from tangent to tangent. Not tonight. Tonight he just wanted to go to his favourite haunt and stargaze.
Stow-on-Side was one of the less colonised areas in Galar and was mostly untouched by light pollution. Perfect for him to lose himself to the sky above.
The best part about the whole situation, of course, that he didn’t have to share it with anyone. It was his little secret. Until now.
There’s someone…in my spot.
The little overhang closest to the canyon on route 6 was occupied; Allister shrank back behind a chimney stack. How was that even possible? No one ever came up on the roofs at night. Even Bea respected his privacy, as long as he was back by a certain time.
Allister peaked around the corner and squinted. They were no bigger than he was, maybe even slighter.
A kid? Like…me?
He immediately dismissed the idea. Illuminated by the light of the moon he could see what they had on; their clothing was…strange. Like some sort of spacesuit he’d seen on TV. A helmet completed the image perfectly, if not for the locks of ginger hair snaking down their back in a braid.
A girl. Oh. There’s…a girl…in my spot.
Naturally Allister’s first idea was to back away quietly and pretend he hadn’t seen anything. Not that he had anything against girls specifically, but he really had no experience with them at all. Even including his extremely limited pool of interactions with other people they came up short.
Sure he had his sister but she was his sister.
“Doesn’t count”, Allister mumbled, sneaking another look. His second thought was to stand his ground. A revolutionary idea.
It’s my spot. I found it. I guess…we can share it? He didn’t want to. Not at all. He could always find another place and this was probably a one time thing and he could have his place again tomorrow.
‘If you start to run away from things you’ll never stop, Alli’. Bea’s words were annoyingly true. He ran from lots of things he didn’t like. What would his team think of him?
“N-not this time. I’m gonna…go over th-there…and say…somethin’.”
Allister did just that. Stiff as a board he forced his legs to move one in front of the other and make his way across the metal sheeting to where the figure was sat. They didn’t acknowledge him, even when he sat deliberately out of arms reach (though they were shorter than his so it wasn’t all that far).
“…” Allister didn’t know what to say. In hindsight he hadn’t really thought any of this through. He’d accomplished his goal but after that…he was at a loss. Following the stranger’s gaze upwards Allister could see they were stargazing too.
“Galar’s sky has a lot of different stars to Alola.”
Though the voice was soft it cleaved through the silence easily. From it Allister could make two deductions: That the stranger was indeed a girl, and that she wasn’t from around here. The accent was like nothing he’d ever heard.
Stilted and weird like the language had been learned artificially.
The clothing was stranger up close, the helmet more of a visor than anything else. Everything was grey, including her skin. It didn’t look like she was cold…just…Allister stopped himself there.
“I come…u-up here…most nights…” Allister stuttered, folding his arms furtively to combat the rising urge to fidget. “Stars are…nice.”
“Stars are very nice,” the girl agreed. “I can’t see them back home. Your world has a lot to offer.”
“…”
“…”
“…Are you a ghost?” Allister had blurted the words out before he could stop himself; the girl turned to him for the first time, sticking her tongue out in thought.
“Nope, but I can totally get why you’d think that.”
“O-oh…it’s just…”
“…”
“You said you w-were from…another world, and your skin is…and I c-can talk to…ghosts so…”
“You can talk to ghosts?”
“Mmhmm…”
“That’s really cool!” The sudden change in volume causing Allister to flinch put a frown on her features. “Oh…my bad,” she whispered. “I guess it’s supposed to be night. This better?”
Allister nodded, removing the hands from his ears.
“S’cool…just made me jump is all.”
“How rude of me, I didn’t even introduce myself. My name’s Zossie.”
“ ‘m Allister.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…Why’re you here…Zossie?”
The girl’s face clouded over again, returning her hidden gaze to the sky above.
“Don’t have any stars at home. Heard good things from the rest of the Recon Squad about Galar. Colder than Alola. Closer to home. Guess I can pretend this really is my sky while I visit!”
“You don’t…have stars? Lots of…pollution?”
“Not exactly.”
Allister got the distinct impression it wasn’t a subject he should press her on, given the pain he could hear in her voice.
“So why are you here, Allister? Should I shake your hand firmly as the traditional Galar greeting says I should when meeting someone new?”
“N-no…it’s…cool.”
Zossie definitely learned Galarian from a dictionary. Where could she be from that doesn’t have any stars in the sky?
“I…um…l-like to stargaze.”
“You said that alr…ah, gotcha. I’m in your spot, aren’t I?”
“…”
“Say no more, I can bounce out and find somewhere else.”
“N-no! You can…stay. You were…here first.”
“You sure?” Zossie sounded entirely too hopeful for Allister to consider turning her down.
“I’m sure,” he said more confidently. “Wanna hear more…about the stars here? I know…lots of s-stories.”
If Allister had been able to see her eyes he was sure they’d have been shining.
“Please do! Learning the lore of your region interests me greatly!”
As the two chatted away into the night something eventually occurred to Allister.
Huh…talking to girls isn’t actually that hard at all.