Chapter Text
Wood.
Wood is an excellent descriptor for what Littleroot is like. Looks wooden, smells wooden, and it is wooden. Of course, wood is not all there is, but it is the majority of sights to see in Littleroot, at least for its residents. Naturally, the residents’ thoughts drift from the monotony of the town, instead to their families, jobs, or friends, because the Lab and its custodian are only so interesting. That is, until his daughter has a new friend next door, and that just about reveals to her the true monotony of it all. Although the monotony is broken, she doesn’t particularly want an end to that respite.
May sits on the bed. The warm late-morning sun spills in through the window, brightening her vivid scarlet-red tank-top and bow. She thinks of Brendan, how she hasn’t seen him in some time. He had been on her mind since they saw the Litleonids, unfaltering in its ability to derail any other train of thought she has. As for whether or not she’s sought him out, that’s a no. She chocks it up to her leg, what that Zinnia damaged to some degree she’s unsure of.
She then has an epiphany: that’s all just rationalization. She knows that was a month ago, she knows that she can walk without pain, even run, she just chooses not to go outside anymore. It is then that she decides to make a change: to go look for him and put an end to her thoughtlessness. She puts her shoes on, re-does her hair and bow, and strides downstairs to the front door, smiling all the while. As she opens the door, her mother stops her.
“Are you sure you’re able to go out?” She asks May, nothing but motherly concern in her face and voice.
“I’m sure, Mom. I’m absolutely positive!” she says through a grin.
“Alright then. Just don’t overexert yourself.” her mom says, sighing with a light smile, happy to know her daughter’s getting back out there.
May opens the door, and steps out to the familiar dirt path, looking right to her neighbor’s house. She strides on over there, with pep in her step and no dust in her wake, and knocks on the polished wooden door. The door glides open, and her neighbor’s mother stands in the wake. Her face lights up when she sees May.
“Oh, May! It’s great to see you again! How have you been? Is your leg better?” she asks May, beaming.
“Yeah, it is! Thanks for asking. Um, s-so-”
“Did you want to see Brendan?” She asks, cutting off May.
May stops with her mouth open.
“Y-yeah, I-”
“He’s up in his room. Come on in, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you as much as you him.” she says, ushering a bewildered May into the house. How does she know that she wants to see Brendan?
Strangely, she doesn’t call Brendan down this time.
“S-so do I just go upstairs, o-or…?”
“Yes, please do! I think he’ll like the surprise,” says his mom, smiling with some semblance of something on her face.
May slowly steps up the stairs, thoughts rushing. What is he gonna think when he sees her after a whole month of nothing? Will he be happy? Will he be mad? Will he be sad that it took her this long? Or will absence make the heart grow fonder?
She approaches the door, and with a deep exhale, opens it.
“Hmm?” she hears. That hum is no more distinct than the creaking of the floorboards in her own home.
She comes into the room, scanning for him with each step. His desk is orderly, his certificates are lined up on it. Looking the opposite direction, she sees him sitting on the ground with his back against the bedframe, and they lock eyes. In that moment, both of their thoughts rush, and neither of them say anything. Brendan breaks it off by standing up and walking over to her. With one arm, he hugs her quickly. He beckons her to sit over by the great Snorlax plush on the other side of the room, starting a conversation whilst.
“So…” He starts.
“S-so…” she continues.
“Leg better?”
“Y-yeah, it is,” she says, looking away now. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”
“No problem, things take time. Also, you sound… off. Is something wrong?”
Her gaze snaps back at him with those words.
“No, n-not at all! I j-just-”
“Missed me?” he says, jokingly.
“Y-yeah…” she trails. He just sees it as playing along with the joke.
“So, what was it that you needed, Professor Girl?”
She really hated that nickname, only because he’d say it in the most taunting tone to her all the time. However, this time, it was like music to her.
“I wanted to see if you wanted to g-go to the beach on Route 109, Norman’s boy.”
He really hated that nickname, because she’s trying to force it despite him now being the Hoenn League Champion. Then again, the title isn’t really what mattered to him. What mattered to him is that the girl that couldn’t get out of his head is now out, but far from gone. Not that he’d want her gone.
“I’d love to!” he says, only stopping himself when he realized what he said.
“G-great!” says May through a broken smile, hardly able to keep her thoughts straight.
“Great, great. Right,” he says to himself, now looking for his bag as an excuse to look away from her.
“It’s over here, Brendan,” May says, pointing to the green bag slinking over the TV stand.
“Thanks, May.” he nearly stammers, hardly able to handle the awkward exchange before him.
“Okay. Now to 109.” he says, straightening the belt of the bag on his chest and re-tucking his unkempt shoulder-length hair into the whatever-it-is hat he wears.
“You really oughta brush your hair sometime, Bren.” blurts May. “Maybe also letting it out more often. No sense in hiding that color.”
“Did you just call me ‘Bren’?” asks Brendan, eyebrow raised.
“You tell me, Bren.” she retorts.
“Professor Girl.”
“Bren.”
“May.”
“Champ.”
“Stop.”
“What for, Bren?” she says, leaning forward with her hands behind her back, an impish grin on her face. “Am I… annoying you?” She cocks her head to the side.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, Professor Girl.”
“I would like to know, Bren.” says she, standing back up straight and crossing her lightly toned arms, the smirk still painted across her face. She is no taller than him, he is no more short than she.
“I’ll tell you on the road,” Brendan states.
“You’re telling me that we’re walking to Slateport…”
“I’d imagine that a month’s atrophy needs to be recovered somehow,” he says, nonchalantly.
May is taken aback. Her thoughts rush, and return to the anxious state they were in. One month, and she didn’t even try to talk to him during it. She began to hate herself a little, blaming only herself for this. She pouts, and her eyes go a little misty.
“L-look, I’m sorry I didn’t try to talk to you over the past while, I really am. I j-just hope you don’t hate me, is all,” she sputters through a trembling lip. She really didn’t want him to see her like this.
“May. I don’t hate you,” he says softly, through a smile. “You’ll always be my best friend.”
“R-really?” she stammers, half-expecting the usual oblivious Brendan she knows to rear his head.
“Really,” he states. “I really do mean it, May.”
She is astounded at the sincerity of his tone. He’s never the serious type, always a heckler, especially with her. Then, it hits her. She smiles from ear to ear.
“You missed me, didn’t you?” she asks.
“Well, I’d be a liar if I said no…”
“Well, you are a liar…” she counters.
“I think you know the answer, then.” he ripostes.
“Heh. Well then, Route 109, maybe hit up the market?”
“Yeah, sure, let’s go. No race though, you have a lot of talking to do, Miss May.”
“I planned on it.” she says through a grin, shifting about the buckle of her bag on her hips. “I’ll tell you all about the wonderful world of wooden walls and ceilings.”
They share a chuckle, and May follows him down the stairs.
“I’ll be back, Mom. Count on it.” Brendan says to his mother, who simply nods in acknowledgement.
They step out onto the dirt road, bags on and at one another’s shoulder.
“You ready to get back on the leg?” Brendan asks, glancing toward her with a soft fist held to her side. She glances back at him.
“Ready as I’ll ever be!” she answers, giving him a fist bump and a smile.