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It felt good, finally settling in beside his campfire and letting his aching feet finally rest. Tent rustling in the wind behind Eusine as he pulled his bag to his side, digging his radio out of his bag alongside his dinner. The news was the same as the last town.
A legend racing through the side streets.
A man clad in a purple suit poking around town for information about its movements.
Theories, all incorrect.
He was always the daily buzz with his endeavors. Eusine was tired of the attention really, his ambitions simple and his goals few. Show Suicune, and by extension the other two beasts, that humanity could be trusted. Perhaps ask a single favor of the creature if it would abide by the idea. If he found success he would be happy, if not, the chase itself was enough. Following the elegant beast from town to town gave him information. Information let him write his dissertations. His dissertations gave him the money to continue the hunt. A cycle that fed itself. It was a convenient excuse as well.
The road was welcoming, the routes of Johto and Kanto more of a home than Celadon had ever been. Sure, he had lived with his parents in that highrise condo for 15 years and had at least half enjoyed the first 10 but this felt. Better at least. More than aware of where true comfort lies he was resigned to it never being ‘home’. Sure he was a welcome guest. Welcome to visit at his leisure but never to overstay. A cold house full of specters and a man that was always kind enough to receive him.
His food was easily forgotten, the simple hard bread and dried meats and fruits set to the side as he dwelled in his thoughts. The haunting memory of lavender and vanilla incense, citrus burning through their mellow tones with their acrid aromas. Hands always warm, eyes full of affection. Eusine knew he deserved none of it really. The little moments he let himself indulge in later weighed with guilt. Morty was the only thing to hold his fascination as long as the myths themselves, the Gym leader hung in his mind like an unreachable cobweb. Always hidden in the corners and catching every breeze. Every thought brings with it a memory.
The summer festival and their dances. The first days of winter spent nursing each-other out of the cold they both caught. His Haunter goes off and causes problems for them both with Morty’s Gengar. Sharing hotpot in his kitchen, curry over rice, the spinach quiche he just barely remembered his mother making when he was young. Morty didn’t care what he made. He ate it all the same with a smile on his face and thanks on his lips. It was all he could give in exchange for the tolerance he got from the other.
Eusine could ignore the mornings he woke up with the tingle of a kiss on his lips. He could ignore the ache in his chest while he was gone. He would always leave. The chase would call again. The time would come when the shame of taking up all of Morty’s time would rise like bile in his throat. He had better things to do than to indulge him. A gym to run, a temple to keep, and training he could never manage to keep up with.
A nudge broke him from his train of thought. His Kadabra, Jester, holding out his food to him with a judgemental glare.
“You need to eat, you know. If you’re only going to eat once a day you should make it count.” He was right, he usually was. Eusine reached for the napkin’s knot, huffing to himself.
“I was planning on it, just a bit distracted tonight,” He pops a cranberry in his mouth while contemplating the swiss, “Been happening more lately hasn’t it.” The pokemon gave a sharp laugh as he took a large bite from a chesto berry.
“Yes. Very much so.” They chewed in silence together for a few moments, the fire popping in front of them. It was much lower than he thought it had been.
“You know you should go back right? To Ecruteak I mean. The air’s good for you there, so is the company. Suicune has been alive for hundreds of years now, it can wait.” Eusine frowned, turning over his cheese.
“I know that well enough Jest, winters on the way. The temple has to be closed, the gym is going to have its last burst of challengers before they die down for the season. He’s too busy. It can wait.” He was coughing again, from his chest and wet. It would pass. It always did. “I’ll head into town once the first snow hits. Morty will have time for me then.”
“He always has time. He does more than work and sleep Eusine,” He passed over Eusine’s handkerchief and water bottle, “He will also hate that you stayed out when you’re ill.”
“I’m fine, Jester. It’s just the weather changing. It happens every year, you know that as well as I do.” It should have passed last week. Something they both knew as well. He should have his winter jacket with him, thick galarian wool to shield him from the wind and rain. Instead he had the thin cotton, just as good as nothing against the late autumn storms. Biting down another cough he swallowed it down with the water. “It’s fine.”
His phone pinged again.
He didn’t want to look. He knew who it was.
The guilt was back.