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It had all started when May rolled into a quaint little village that’s entire economy was based on making birdhouses for Hoothoot and Noctowl. The houses were cute in a crafty, twigs and pipe cleaners sort of way and apparently the villagers made a lot of money selling the houses to tourists. She’d made the mistake of asking the man at the stand in the village square how much a little cedar house would cost. It seemed like a fairly innocent, straightforward question to her, but somehow it had been a signal to the old craftsman that she would just love to listen to a never-ending lecture on whittling and birdseed.
She was trying to be polite and listen to what the old man had to say, but it was hard. Not only was the subject boring, but the smell of peanut-butter from the bird-feeders was making her hungry.
Her stomach growled and her attention strayed all the more. She looked over the old seller’s shoulder where a boy with brown hair was talking to a man with a Noctowl perched on his shoulder. The boy appeared to be engaged in a much more interesting conversation than she was, and was taking notes.
“Amazing,” the boy enthused. “So the entire town operates nocturnally for more than half the year?”
“Oh yes,” the man said with a proud nod. “We only have daylight hours during the warmer months – for the tourists, you know.”
“I’m sure that much mean a lot to the Pokemon,” the boy said. “Hoothoot and Noctowl can adapt to a diurnal sleep-cycle, and often do so for their trainers, but they’re really at their prime in their natural, nocturnal cycle. I’d love to compare the difference in strength and health between one of your town’s Noctowl and one raised by another trainer.”
The man gave a laugh. “Well, I suppose that’s an attitude one might expect from the grandson of the famous Professor Oak.”
May nearly fell down, much to the surprise of the stand owner who had been babbling away up until then. She stared at the boy, who had turned to look at her after the shocked sound she made. “You’re—Gary?”
*****
And so the two of them, having introduced themselves to each other as friends of Ash, decided to stop off at a sandwich shop and talk. Both were traveling alone at the moment, so it was nice to see even a second-hand friend around. And they got to make fun of Ash in the good-natured spirit that those with mutual friends always do.
May had to admit, as she stabbed a straw through her juice-box, she had been very curious about Gary. She’d heard some things about him from Ash… and plenty of them were contradictory. Depending on the mood Ash was in, and just what part of memory lane he was strolling down, Gary was either a ‘conceited, big-headed jerk’ or one of his closest friends. It was odd.
But May couldn’t really account for some of the stuff she’d heard about Gary after meeting the real deal. He seemed so… nice. Polite, friendly, full of energy about what he was researching… She really couldn’t believe that this was the same guy that Ash had told her used to go around with a horde of cheerleaders and a convertible.
The cheerleader part seemed to have left lasting scars on Ash. She recalled him saying something about a real trainer not needing that kind of support. She couldn’t help but noticing that his opinions on cheerleaders had softened somewhat as of late. She rolled her eyes to herself. Typical.
But the cheerleader thing was kind of weird, and she was almost tempted to believe that Ash had made that up. Honestly… a ten-year-old with cheerleaders? No one with the kind of ego Gary had been described as having in the past would’ve actually hired a bunch of cheerleaders, which meant that they were just… following him of their own free will. Under his thrall or something. Can ten-year-olds have thrall? …I suppose his hair is kind of cool looking.
Oh God, I’m blushing.
Having a… thrall like that over people… he must be really popular. Kind of intimidating now, isn’t it?
But he seemed so friendly and down to earth. She had to believe he’d undergone a major transformation. He couldn’t be the same person Ash had described from when they first started out on their journey. She just couldn’t believe it after talking to him.
…Except… except that in a way she could. She couldn’t nail down what it was, but… he was just an inch too sure of himself. Not that a little confidence is a bad thing… but she wondered where some guys got off being so confident.
“So,” Gary said, putting down his coffee cup. “I was thinking of interviewing some of these shop-keepers about their birdhouses.”
May was just thinking that he was probably in for a boring time when he asked: “Wanna come with?”
She froze.
“Unless you think it’d be too boring,” Gary added.
She honestly didn’t know what possessed her to respond quickly with a: “It wouldn’t be boring at all!”
Thrall. That’s what it was. Thrall.