Chapter Text
Kieran sighed and leaned back in his office chair. He rubbed his tired eyes and wished that he were home in bed instead of in his classroom at this hour. At least Julie could keep him company during his Fright Night Festival duties.
He yawned loudly, feeling the fatigue creeping up on him. Between preparing for the baby’s arrival with Julie and the stresses of teaching on Halloween, he was beyond exhausted. 8 o’clock could not get here fast enough.
He checked the time on his Rotomphone’s screen and groaned. How was it only 6:30?
Oh well, he thought. Only an hour and a half to go.
Kieran snuck a mini chocolate bar from the bowl of candy on his desk and ate it in one bite. One little candy bar wouldn’t be missed, he reasoned. Nor would the two packets of gummies he’d snacked on earlier in the evening. The trick-or-treaters were starting to drop by less frequently now, anyway, and the leftovers would just go home with him anyway.
He yawned again, surprised at just how tired he was feeling. Maybe he should have gone for the full-sized candy bars this year. He was going to need a sugar rush to power through the rest of the evening.
Halloween was an especially long day for the Uva Academy staff. Instead of the usual white and purple uniform, students could wear their costumes during the school day. As one might expect, this newfound freedom inspired some students to test the limits of the school’s rules and their teachers’ patience.
The highlight of Kieran’s day was rescuing a student dressed as Golbatman from the roof of the boys’ dorms. Kieran had flown up with Dragonite to find a sobbing teenage boy clinging to his Ambipom for dear life. Thankfully, the kid had chickened out before he could reach his goal of climbing up to Clavell’s office. The boy had some serious mischief planned; two rolls of toilet paper and a bottle of paint were confiscated from his bag before sending him to detention.
The rest of his day had been spent keeping the students who had dressed as Pokemon from fighting each other. No matter how much they tried to justify their antics as “practicing their battle strategies,” Kieran was not about to let a fistfight break out in his classroom.
The teachers let out a collective sigh of relief as the final bell of the day rang. But the Halloween excitement was only just beginning.
The staff members went home to rest and recover before their evening duties began. The students dispersed to their dorms to prepare for the main event: Uva Academy’s long-awaited Fright Night Festival.
There was truly something for everyone to enjoy tonight. The elementary students and their families were invited to go door-to-door around the school to trick-or-treat from various classrooms. The middle school students would enjoy a Halloween dance chaperoned by the bravest of their teachers. Scariest of all, the high school students and collegiate students would take part in a ghost tour, hiking around Paldea’s most haunted spots with Ms. Raifort as their guide.
Clavell himself often accompanied the students on the haunted hike, citing his love of history and interest in the mysteries of Paldea. But truthfully, he was present to keep his employee in check; after Ms. Raifort took the students off-route one year to go spelunking, someone had to be the voice of reason.
The rest of the Uva Academy staff was expected to take part in the mandatory fun as chaperones or by handing out candy in their classrooms. In previous years, Kieran chaperoned the school dance with the rest of the elective team. He’d been assigned a fairly easy job: his role was to stand guard by the cafeteria doors. He’d thrown on his dark sunglasses and best scowl for fun - if he was expected to be the bouncer, he might as well look the part. Aside from the occasional dance battle or dramatic breakup, things usually went as smoothly as a middle school dance could go.
He didn’t miss his old gig tonight one bit. The peace and quiet of his classroom was far superior to listening to Baby Sharpedo play over the cafeteria speakers for the fifth time in a row.
Julie had been the one to convince him to take on trick-or-treating duty this year. It would give her an excuse to wear her new Pumpkaboo sweater, she explained, but mainly she wanted to spend time with him. He had no objections to spending the evening with the love of his life, especially when she’d be dressed up so cutely. It was an ideal situation, if he did say so himself.
He’d donned his Ranita hoodie and set up two chairs by his classroom door, ready to spend a peaceful evening passing out candy with Julie.
He wondered what it would be like next year to enjoy trick-or-treating as a parent instead of as an employee. The thought was certainly sweet.
**
Kieran lifted his head from his desk, eyes heavy with sleep. Somehow he’d dozed off for a few minutes. The happy chatter of trick-or-treaters carried from the hallway to his desk. Julie was handing out candy to a boy dressed as a Tyranitar. He smiled as the little boy hugged her in thanks, then waved goodbye as he walked away.
Kieran wondered what it would be like to have a son one day, too. Maybe he’d be like the best parts of him, and he wouldn’t be held back by self-doubt or fear. He’d like to think their children would get along better than he and Carmine had, but maybe that was wishful thinking. Siblings would always squabble, but someday they’d grow up to be the best of friends. It worked out for him and Carmine that way, and he’d want the same for his own children too.
“Maybe someday,” he said softly to himself, and let himself dream awhile longer.
He checked his phone once again to find that five minutes had passed. Several missed messages filled his Rotomphone’s screen. He was grateful now that he’d volunteered to pass out candy in his classroom instead of chaperoning the dance. Based on the texts he’d gotten from his team members, the middle-schoolers were bouncing off the cafeteria walls.
Dendra had sent a blurry shot of two students mid-dance-off in the center of the room. One boy was dressed as an Archaludon, and another was dressed as a Bidoof.
“My money’s on Charlie,” Dendra texted. “Bidoof is OP so he wins by default.”
“True,” Kieran responded. “But Archie gets points for making his costume by hand.”
“No he does not!!’ countered Hassel, emphasizing his displeasure with three frowning emojis. “He used up ALL my good cardboard for that MONSTROSITY and he didn’t even use the right paints for the job!! He wasted my paint and supplies on that HIDEOUS thing and didn’t even say thank you! How UNGRATEFUL!!”
This outburst was followed by a half dozen crying emojis. This was nothing new to the members of the elective team group chat. Hassel was never one to shy away from emotion.
Saguaro offered a solution. “I have more boxes in the pantry, Hassel. You can have all of them. Don’t be bitter and let the kids have their fun. ☺”
A few seconds passed as Hassel formed a witty reply. Kieran braced for impact: the longer the wait, the more intense the response. Surprisingly, the art teacher’s ire seemed to have quelled in the span of ten seconds.
“I guess so. But he better make a less ugly costume next year. This one is so bad it’s unforgiveable. And TY Saguaro, you’re amazing. <3”
Kieran shook his head. There was never a dull moment with his coworkers.
Julie scooted her rolling chair closer to Kieran and read the texts on his Rotomphone’s screen. She munched happily on her fourth peanut butter cup of the night.
“Looks like the dances haven’t changed much since I went here. And neither has Hassel. I still don’t think he’s forgiven me for forgetting to wash out my paintbrushes that one time.”
Kieran laughed softly. “Ooo, my wife, the delinquent.”
Julie rested her head on his shoulder. “In my defense, I had other things on my mind that day.”
He put his arm around her shoulder. “Oh? Like what?”
“Like getting my letter to you in the mailbox before the end of the day.” She smiled at the memory. “Art was my last class of the day. I had five minutes to run downstairs from Hassel’s room to the mailroom. I ran as fast as I could and made it just before the mailman left.”
“Wait, was that the one that had the pink paint all over it?” He still had that letter, along with all the other notes she’d sent him between her second visit to Kitakami and his moving to Paldea for college.
“Sure was.”
“What were you paintin’, anyway?”
Julie laughed. “A picture of a Jigglypuff. It was…less than great.”
“Ohhh, I remember that one!” He grinned. “That was the one with the crossed eyes, right?”
She elbowed her husband and pouted.
“Yes it was,” she huffed. “Meanie.”
He leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I’m sorry for teasin’ ya. If it makes ya feel any better, I still have trouble drawing the other eye.”
“Yeah,” she sulked, “but you’re actually good at drawing.”
“I like your art just fine,” he reassured her. “Even when your Jigglypuffs are cross-eyed.”
She huffed again and scooted away from him. “I’m leaving and taking the kid.”
“Noooo,” he whined, trying not to laugh. “I promise I’ll be good. No more teasin’, alright?”
Julie spun around in her chair to face him, her hands resting on her belly. “Alright. But you have to promise me and Himiko that you won’t be a bully anymore.”
That was a promise he could definitely keep. He rested his hands atop hers and kissed her gently.
“I promise.”
Kieran felt something soft hit the back of his head. Whatever it was landed on the floor behind him with a thump. Taunting, childlike laughter came from a short distance behind him.
He frowned. Throwing candy was a bold way for a kid to get his attention. Someone was getting an empty wrapper in their treat bucket tonight. He spun around to face his attacker with his fiercest scowl.
Floating behind Kieran at eye-level was Pecharunt. The tiny menace looked quite pleased with himself – he’d succeeded in getting the attention he so craved from the excitable man. He giggled mischievously as he prepared another mochi to launch at his trainer’s mate.
Kieran narrowed his eyes. “Try me, Peachy.”
Pecharunt grinned. He aimed for the man’s forehead, for old times’ sake. It was certainly a big enough target. Or maybe, just maybe, he’d aim for his mouth this time.
He chuckled menacingly. Playing puppeteer would be a fun distraction. Being good for more than a few minutes was ever so boring.
Julie stood up and put herself between the two old rivals. She had no patience for their antics tonight.
She gave her Pokemon a stern look. “No, Momo. No more mochi, or you’re going back in the ball.”
Pecharunt squeaked in protest and turned away. Kieran swore it was pouting.
“I said no, and I mean it,” she asserted. “You’re supposed to be helping Kieran pass out candy, not throwing mochi at him. If you can’t behave, you’re not getting any treats tonight.”
“Yeah,” Kieran grumbled. “I’m not sharing if you misbehave.”
Pecharunt huffed, and then closed himself into his protective shell.
“Momotaro,” Julie said quietly, “Stop pouting and start helping. Now.”
A beat of silence passed between them. Then, slowly, Momotaro emerged from his shell with a scowl. He floated past them, his tiny head bowed low. He plopped himself in front of the candy bowl, once more standing guard over the treats.
He sighed heavily. He knew when he’d been defeated.
Julie thought back to her fateful encounter with Pecharunt all those years ago. She would have never guessed back then that such a little Pokemon could throw an entire town into chaos. She and Kieran had battled late into the night to break the puppeteer’s spell on their friends and family. They’d breathed a sigh of relief when she finally caught the troublesome creature and the spell on the townsfolk lifted. Finally, Mossui Town’s troubles were over.
But an important question remained in the aftermath: what was she going to do with Pecharunt now that she’d caught it?
Pecharunt wasn’t exactly the safest Pokemon to have on her team. She knew its rebellious spirit would be a liability. Traveling around Paldea with a Pokemon that could mind-control people on a whim wouldn’t be the smartest idea, even if she was the Champion.
But what if he could be socialized? There was no such thing as a bad Pokemon, after all. (Except for the Loyal Three, in Julie’s opinion - Ponpon could never forgive them for what they had done, and neither could she.) Pecharunt was mischievous, sure, but not evil, per se. With time, patience, and effort, maybe he could learn to behave like the rest of her team.
And so began the Pecharunt Rehabilitation Project.
**
The first year of the project had been the hardest, by far. To put it mildly, Pecharunt had a mind of his own. Even Julie’s Champion rank couldn’t stop the Pokemon from disobeying her outright. She’d gritted her teeth through many a battle where Pecharunt ignored her completely. The few losses she had on her record were attributed entirely to him.
After one particularly brutal loss, Julie had called Kieran and Carmine with tears in her eyes.
“He just won’t listen to me,” she cried. “I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.”
Kieran did his best to soothe her, while Carmine considered their options.
“Maybe he’s homesick or somethin’.” Carmine suggested. “I can send you some recipes to try, if you want. Maybe he’ll shape up if he eats somethin’ he likes.”
Julie nodded. “I’ll give it a shot.” She’d gotten a lot more confident in the kitchen with Arven’s help. At this point, she was desperate to try anything.
A sudden thought occurred to Kieran.
“Hey Julie, did you give Pecharunt a nickname?”
“I didn’t, actually.” The thought had completely slipped her mind.
“Maybe he’ll warm up to ya if you do.” It was a long shot, but Kieran thought he was onto something. “All the rest of your Pokemon have nicknames. Maybe it’d help him feel like he’s part of the team if you give him one too.”
“You’re right.” She turned Pecharunt’s Pokeball over in her hands as she thought. “What do you think would be a good nickname for him?”
“Murasaki would be good,” suggested Carmine. “It means purple, and…well, he’s purple. It fits, I guess.”
Julie spun the Pokeball on her desk. “Hmm. Maybe. It’s a little plain, though.”
Kieran thought back to a story that his grandparents had told him and Carmine long ago. “What about Momotaro? It’s the name of a hero in a Kitakami folktale, and it even means ‘peach boy.’ With a cool name like that, it might encourage him to be good instead of bad.”
Carmine nodded approvingly. “I like that, Kiki. You could call him Momo for short, too.”
Julie grinned. “It’s perfect! Momotaro it is. Thank you, Kiki!”
Kieran felt his cheeks and ears catch fire. Julie had never used his nickname before. Somehow the name sounded sweeter to his ears when she said it.
“Y-you’re welcome,” he managed to stammer. “H-happy to help.”
Julie realized her mistake and clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to call you Kiki-“
“Nonono,” he said quickly, waving his hands for emphasis. “I don’t mind at all, really I don’t!”
Julie fiddled with her braid. “O-ok, good. As long as you’re ok with it.”
He nodded vigorously. “Uh-huh, I’m very ok with it. You can call me Kiki anytime you want, ok?”
Carmine rolled her eyes. “You’re layin’ it on thick tonight, aren’t ya?”
Kieran pouted. “Nuh-uh, Sis. I’m just bein’ honest.”
Julie laughed, her cheeks faintly pink. “I appreciate it, Kiki.”
He grinned ear to ear, his sister’s jab long forgotten. “You’re welcome!”
Carmine hid her smile behind her hand. Her brother was fumbling his way through his first love. Slowly but surely, though, he was finding his footing. This was a step in the right direction after he’d lost his way. And judging by the smile on Julie’s face, he’d never have to walk alone again.
From that day on, Kieran was as invested in socializing Pecharunt as Julie. And here they were ten years later, still trying to rein in Momotaro’s antics with varying degrees of success.
**
Julie tucked a loose strand of hair behind Kieran’s ear. The dark circles under his eyes were starting to return. Between a long day at work and Momo’s misbehavior, she could tell her husband’s patience was running thin.
“I know Momo’s a pain sometimes,” she said quietly. “But he’s made a lot of progress. You have to admit, he’s a lot better behaved than he used to be.”
“Yeah,” Kieran grumbled. “But why does he have to hit me in the head every time? It gets annoyin’.”
Julie knew that answer right away. “To get a rise out of you. He thinks it’s funny when you get mad at him. It’s free entertainment when you get all riled up, so he pushes your buttons to get a reaction.”
Kieran sighed. “And it works every time.”
“Yep.” She kissed his cheek to console him. “But you’re getting better at ignoring him, too. You don’t chase him around anymore, so that’s a step in the right direction. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks.” He gave Pecharunt a sidelong glance. “Why’d you bring him along tonight, anyway?”
“To get him used to being around children.” She smiled serenely and rested her hands on her stomach. “Better now than surprising him later, right?”
“Oh. Right.” Himiko would be here before he knew it. Time was passing by way too quickly for his liking. “Oh gosh, I’ve still gotta put the crib together.”
“Don’t worry about that tonight,” Julie reassured him. “That can wait until morning. Let’s just get through this and go home, ok?”
“Ok.” Kieran checked the time again. It was five past 7 now. He fought the urge to groan. So much for time passing quickly.
“And don’t let Momo get on your nerves,” Julie continued. “He’s just a little guy who wants attention. Don’t give it to him when he’s bad, and reward him when he’s good. He’ll figure it out. Sound like a plan?”
“’Yeah.” Kieran studied the sulking Pokemon on his desk. If Julie thought Momo was worth putting time and effort into, he could forgive a mochi headshot now and again. “I’ll give him another chance.”
“Good,” Julie said with a smile. “It’ll be worth it. Besides, the last time I gave someone a second chance, it worked out pretty well.”
Kieran couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah, it did.”
He was grateful for that second chance every single day.
A rustling sound caught Julie’s attention. She turned to see Momotaro burrowing himself into her personal stash of peanut butter cups. He’d nestled himself comfortably at the top of the jumbo-sized bag of candy. Somehow he’d unwrapped a piece all by himself. His mouth was opened wide to enjoy a bite of his stolen treat.
In one swift motion, Julie grabbed the tiny Pokemon and held him at eye level.
She gave the Pokemon a glare that would make an Arbok cower in fear.
“Drop the candy, Momo,” she said sternly. “Now.”
With a horrified squeak, Momotaro dropped the candy into her hand. He knew he had no chance of winning this fight.
“Good boy.” Julie let Pecharunt go. There was still a hint of intimidation in her smile. “Stay out of my peanut butter cups, ok? I’m not sharing these with anyone, not even Kiki.”
Momotaro nodded, still quaking with fear.
“Good!” she said cheerfully. “Now, run along and help with the trick-or-treaters. If you’re good, I’m sure you can earn yourself some candy.” She hugged the giant bag of treats protectively. “Just not this candy.”
Kieran pretended to cough to cover up his laughter. Pecharunt had learned a lesson the hard way tonight: never come between a pregnant woman and her craving of choice.
Momotaro floated away from his trainer towards the candy bowl in a daze. He landed atop the mountain of treats, wondering how his life choices had brought him here.
At least he wasn’t alone in making bad decisions. He’d seen his trainer give the same glare to her mate when the man made the same mistake a few days ago. Perhaps he had more in common with him than he originally thought.
“Trick or treat!” called a soft voice from the doorway.
The three of them turned to see a little girl dressed as a Ribombee and her mother waiting for them. The little girl eagerly held out her bucket of candy. From the looks of it, she’d gotten quite the haul from the other classrooms.
Momotaro floated happily towards the door, carrying a lollipop in his tiny hands. He chirped happily as the little girl took the treat from him and patted his head. He’d enjoyed all the attention from the visiting children tonight. Their thank-yous and head-pats were by far the best part of this job.
The children’s gratitude brought back bittersweet memories. It reminded him of the gentle affection he’d received from his elderly trainers so long ago. As old as the memory was, it still played in his mind in living color.
Momotaro watched the little girl and her mother walk away, lost in thought. He wondered what had become of the old man and woman who cared for him after he made his terrible mistake. He wondered if they had gone to look for him, or if they had forgotten him once he no longer could serve them. Perhaps he’d outgrown his usefulness to them quicker than he imagined. It was a bitter thought.
The little Pokemon rubbed at his eyes, scrubbing away the sudden tears.
He’d only wanted to make his family happy, even when their demands grew more challenging to meet. He’d taken a dark path to fulfill that last request. It was a choice he regretted even now, hundreds of years later.
He’d never set out to kill the man who cared for the ogre. He’d only wanted the masks, nothing more. His family wanted them for their collection, and he was going to get them somehow.
He’d sent the three Pokemon he’d called his friends to take the masks in the dead of night. He’d given them orders that if the ogre and her master were present, the trio was to leave and try again another time.
But they disobeyed. They’d grinned at the sight of the man alone in the cave. The light of his campfire gave their eyes an eerie glow.
They wanted entertainment. They wanted a fight. They wanted blood.
The dread that filled Momotaro’s body at that realization had been ice cold. He screamed for them to stop, tugging at the chains on their necks with all his might.
Those chains made them do his bidding for years now – surely they could stop the trio before they struck the killing blow.
They had to listen to him. They just HAD to.
But still, they disobeyed.
He’d stared in horror as they walked away from the man’s lifeless body with their treasures tucked under their arms.
He never wanted the man dead.
Yet his blood was now on his hands.
Ogerpon was quick to remind him that he’d committed an unforgivable sin. She’d emerged from her Pokeball with a century’s worth of anger blazing in her eyes. No matter how many times he apologized, Sergio could never be brought back to life. With tears in her eyes and her cudgel raised, she swore he’d meet the same fate if she saw him again.
Momotaro agreed to her terms without a fight. He couldn’t blame her for her anger. If the roles had been reversed, he would have razed Kitakami to the ground to avenge his found family.
He accepted his fate as the gold and black Pokeball withdrew him into its chamber. His freedom was a small price to pay for his mistake.
For the past ten years, he’d lived most of his life in silent captivity inside of an Ultra Ball. Still, there were bright moments in an otherwise dark existence.
The brief moments of freedom he’d experienced with the young man and woman reminded him of happier days. The woman scolded him for his mischief, but praised him for his good deeds. As dull as the latter goals were to achieve, there was something about making her smile that make him believe it was worth it. Perhaps there was a future ahead of him that wasn’t chained to the past.
In hindsight, he could do better at showing his gratitude towards the man and woman. But the temptation to tease them was just too enticing, especially when the man reacted with such intensity. It was just too entertaining to see him fuss and bluster.
As for the woman, however, he knew better than to cross her. Her anger was both cold as Hisuian winter and hot as the summer sun. He’d do well to stay on her good side.
An unexpected poke in the side snapped Momotaro from his wandering thoughts. He flinched, dropping the packet of peach gummies he’d been holding back into the candy bowl.
Kieran frowned, withdrawing his hand. “Sorry about that. You ok, Momo? You looked a little lost there for a second.”
The little Pokemon squeaked in affirmation. He floated back down to the candy bowl to retrieve his packet of gummies for the next visitor. He couldn’t afford to be lost in his memories tonight. He had a job to do.
Kieran took a candy packet from the bowl, watching Momo with concern. The Pokemon was floating lower and lower with each passing moment.
“You hungry, little guy?” he asked. “You’ve been at this for awhile now.”
Momo watched curiously as the man unwrapped the candy in his hand. The treat inside looked just like his stolen prize from earlier. This one, however, was white instead of brown.
Kieran broke the peanut butter cup in half and offered a piece to Momotaro. “Try some of this. I think you’ll like it.”
The Pokemon took the candy and sniffed it. It smelled delicious, but he still wasn’t convinced. Perhaps the man would be repaying him for his mischief tonight with some trickery of his own. It wouldn’t be undeserved if he did.
“It’s good, I promise.” Kieran took a bite of his half of the candy. “See?”
Cautiously, Momotaro bit into the peanut butter cup. If it hadn’t harmed the man, surely it was safe.
Maybe one tiny bite wouldn’t hurt.
Kieran couldn’t hold back his laughter as Pecharunt squealed with delight. The white chocolate peanut butter cup was a hit. The piece of candy was shrinking with every excited bite that the Pokemon took.
“Easy, Momo,” he said between giggles, “You gotta chew it up first or you’re gonna choke.”
Momotaro forced himself to slow down and enjoy his sugary delight. No wonder the woman had defended this treat so fiercely. He would fight a Pokemon ten times his size for another piece. He simply had to have more.
Momo reached for the uneaten candy, but was blocked by Kieran’s hand.
“Hold on. Let me break it in half for you.”
Momo huffed angrily. This simply wouldn’t do. He needed more, and he needed more NOW. He aimed his outer shell towards the man and calculated how quickly he could launch a mochi. No one was going to stand between him and his beloved treat.
Kieran gave him a stern look. “Put that away or this goes in the trash.”
The Pokemon gasped in horror. Surely he wouldn’t do something so rash.
Kieran held the candy over the trashcan by the door. “Don’t test me.”
Momo held up his hands in surrender. He wanted that candy more than he wanted his dignity to remain intact.
Kieran held the second peanut butter cup in front of Momotaro. “Alright, this is the last one, so you can’t just swallow it whole. And don’t go gettin’ sore at me when it’s gone. You’ve gotta be patient until I go buy some more, alright?”
The Pokemon had nearly nodded in agreement when an idea occurred to him. A terrible, awful idea.
Momotaro glanced in Julie’s direction. She was happily enjoying her candy without a care in the world. He wouldn’t have to wait at all if he put his trainer under his control. She would be too busy dancing to guard her treasure trove, and then it would be his for the taking.
All it would take was one well-aimed mochi when she least expected it.
Kieran leaned in towards the Pokemon with a grin that chilled Momotaro’s soul.
His voice was low, barely above a whisper. His golden eyes burned with white-hot rage.
“If you launch one single mochi at her, I promise you’ll never see the light of day again. I have a bottle of superglue in my desk and I’m not afraid to use it.”
Momotaro gulped. The man sounded deadly serious.
“I’m gonna cut you a deal,” offered Kieran, his wicked grin widening. “You’re gonna sit here and eat this candy, and you’ll forget you ever thought about playing puppeteer with my wife and daughter. Or you can try me and see what happens.”
He broke the peanut butter cup in half with a menacing snap.
“Your call, Peachy.”
Momotaro took the half offered to him with shaking hands. Once again, he’d been soundly defeated. Slowly he took a bite of the candy, his gaze never leaving Kieran’s face. Perhaps the man wasn’t one to be trifled with either. There seemed to be some hidden strength within him after all.
Kieran smiled disarmingly. Every trace of his anger had vanished in an instant. “Good choice.”
Julie patted Kieran on the shoulder. “It’s eight o’ clock. Are you boys ready to go home?”
He stood up with the candy bowl in hand. “Yes ma’am. I’m beyond ready. Let’s get you girls home.”
Momotaro took another bite of his candy and chewed thoughtfully. He watched as the man and woman chatted happily and gathered their things to leave.
It was strange, really. Never once did one try to goad the other into doing their bidding. There was no manipulation involved in the slightest, nor trickery to get what they wanted. Momotaro sensed their collaboration was intentional, yet it seemed so effortless.
It seemed completely alien that such a partnership could exist. Yet here it was, playing out before him. Unlike his previous owners, these two seemed to be content with just being together. There was no endless pursuit to fill a void in their lives with trinkets and trophies. Stranger still, they never asked anything of him – other than to behave, of course. Some days that was a hard request to fill, but he tried his best.
It was part of what the woman had called his “rehabilitation.” To him, it was more like atonement.
Momotaro blinked in surprise as his world suddenly grew darker. He whirled around to see his humans silhouetted against the light in the hallway.
“Time to go home, Momo,” called Julie from the doorway.
Kieran waved a familiar orange packet in the air. “And look, I found some more candy. If you’re good on the way home, I’ll share.”
Momotaro squeaked with delight. He needed no further convincing.
Maybe this was how life was supposed to be, he mused as he floated across the classroom towards the people he now considered to be his family. No trickery, no beguilement, and no lies.
He chirped happily as the man handed him a whole piece of his new favorite treat.
It was certainly a lot less lonely like this.