Chapter Text
"Oh, shoot-!" Hassel rubbed at his sore head while he sat there on the bedroom floor. "What's all this?!" Hassel saw the lid of a letter-box he had stored in his closet. Next to it was the rest of the box. Only a few letters had made a successful escape. He was doing some spring cleaning, you see, and he simply happened upon them. Or... They happened to bonk him on the head as several boxes came tumbling down. Oops!
After righting himself, he turned back to the newest mess in the room. Even as he began putting away the boxes in a better stack, some of them began to teeter over and tumble out again. Now frustrated, the member of the Paldean Elite Four took on the side task of rearranging all the boxes. Standing up, bending over, standing up again. It wasn't long before Hassel grew dizzy and tired. He wasn't as young as he once was.
After a time, he returned to the letter box. Looking for a way to delay the cleaning further, or perhaps feeling rather sentimental, Hassel brought the letters over to the bed and began to read as he sat on the duvet.
The memories began to flow back to the forefront.
It felt now like all of this happened only yesterday...
FIFTEEN YEARS AGO
It all started at the annual Artazon Harvest Festival. Hassle attended several major festivals every year. It was the culture, the music and arts, the lifeblood and soul of Paldea he wanted to experience. One fateful year, he met the one artist that changed his life.
“These sculptures are quite-...” An onlooker had no words for what they saw.
“Avant-garde.” Brassius nodded with a quiet sense of pride.
"AMAZING, I'd say!" Hassel added.
"...th-thank you." Brassius nodded again.
"Whatsit made'a, young man?" Another person in the growing crowd asked.
"I blew the glass components from sand in our local soil." He smiled a bit more freely as he answered. "The colorants and patterns, I modeled after dear Arboliva, here." He looked down at his pokemon with him.
"Arbooo." She bent and genuflected with her flexible branches. Several children ooh'd and ahh'd at the pretty pokemon.
"Since this work is titled The Harvest, it only seemed fitting that the statues are fully capable of collecting and filtering safe drinking water for the local pokemon." More ooh's and ahh's as Arboliva demonstrated getting a drink with a tiny flourish. "And as my first season as Artazon's gym leader, please accept this as a promise. A promise that I shall strive to help Artazon grow and prosper." Applause and cheers.
The crowd had little time to linger, since there were more attractions to witness at the festival. However, Hassel cleared his whole itinerary. And as luck would have it, Brassius accepted the offer of coffee and a quick bite at the local cafe.
"And to think! So many layers to your latest work!" Hassel was spellbound as he brought up The Harvest installment again.
"Haha, yes."
"The beauty! The variety! The utility! The meaning and heart! You are a genius!" The dragon-trainer took another sip of coffee. "My students could learn a thing or two from you, alone. A full lecture!"
"My my. I don't think myself the teaching type. But you teach art?"
"Yes, at Uva Academy."
"Ah, very prestigious." Brassius smiled. "I must see some of your works some time, Hassel."
"I'd love nothing more."
And that was all it took. In the beginning, neither of them realized what they would mean to each other down the road. Each man, in that moment, had only thought they had made an eccentric friend of the other.
Then, came the letters.
Hassel looked now upon the very first letter Brassius had sent him.
To the talented Mr. Hassel Navarro,
It was truly a pleasure to have made your acquaintance at this year’s Harvest Festival in Artazon. Though both of our schedules may fill up quite soon, I do hope to keep in contact.
Very Best,
Brassius Cardoza
Hassel looked upon this letter. It was worn and sun-bleached in parts. That made it all the more beautiful.
He sighed again. They really had become such fast friends. It was Fate, meant to be.
And oh, how that friendship blossomed and flourished.