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He always came back here. Every day he could.
Tired azure eyes slowly flutter shut, slightly washed out in color after all these years. Grimsley often liked to think of himself as an unpredictable man, but it seems certain things have now stuck to him like a glue he can never wash off. A breathless laugh bursts from his lips, appearing more like a forced exhale through somewhat worn-down smoker lungs.
Oh how the mighty have fallen. He fears he may have gotten attached, and when he gets attached to something… He never unlatches from it. That unpredictability he so strived for slowly washed away with the ocean’s lapping waves.
Try as he might, to run away from it all, to leave everything behind; Grimsley could physically do so quite easily, he’s traveled through so many regions at this rate. He truly went wherever the wind took him.
But the faces… They stayed etched within his memory. Even when he didn’t want them to. He could burn the photos, he could give away memorabilia, but they remained stubbornly present in his mind. It felt as though so many built him up to be the person he was today — too many. They blurred and flashed around in his dreams, in the faces of strangers they reminded him. They haunted him. People he knew but would never see again, or at least not in a very long time… He remembers people he used to be on good terms with, people who would now strangle him with their bare hands if they got the chance. People he loved… People he left without a single word or explanation…
Goodness, he was so exhausted. How dizzying of a thought. If he kept entertaining this sickening wallowing in self-pity, who knows how many precious hours would pass him by. Against his wishes, they kept flowing. This attachment was a terribly painful curse. His lifelong dream was to achieve the ability to truly separate himself from caring, to be able to unlatch his anchored heart as he pleased would be to truly become free. As Grimsley felt his mind vaguely begin to spiral in memories, he slowly looked down, raising his palms up to lightly press against his eye sockets. He breathed in deeply, the salty sea air piercing through his nostrils for a calming, refreshing wake-up call.
After a pause, soaking in the sounds of the softly crashing waves, he finally lifted his palms away from his eyes. His smile grew ever so slightly. It felt as though the sea itself breathed life into him, and he had become addicted to the feeling. How he loved the sea… The great unknown of this world. Its vastness was truly a mystery, so much of it remained undiscovered. It was… Unpredictable, in every sense of the word. He admired it with his entire being. The ocean gave, and the ocean could take. He had precisely become attached to it, but at least that attachment didn’t give him an almost hypnotizing urge to run away this time. Rather, it drew him in closer…
Black loafers, previously planted firmly into the sand, take one unfocused step further towards the shore. It wouldn’t exactly be a terrible fate in his eyes, to be swept away by the ocean. Drifting away into the vast unknown, never to be seen again… Grimsley wouldn’t mind that one bit. As much as it was a peaceful thought, he still unfortunately had things to do in this life. He wasn’t one to actively wish for death, much less a death purposefully curated by his own will.
The gambler frowns a bit. That would be boring. A man could still dream, however.
Despite this thought, his feet had reached the beach’s shallow shore. The cooled water was now splashing against his ankles. Ah, was it time for another dip then? It feels like he went out for a swim multiple times per day at this rate… He really couldn’t get tired of it. Should he bring his Sharpedo out again?
“...Are you going to stand there all night?”
Grimsley slowly blinks, slightly turning his head, but not all the way to meet the other’s gaze. He knew Nanu was following him, he recognized that low old voice anywhere. It was a voice that often didn’t tolerate any fun antics…
“I don’t see why not. The water feels quite pleasant today.” That signature smirk quickly began to make itself known in Grimsley’s voice.
Nanu pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s 1 a.m., swimming outside at this time is dangerous. You should get to sleeping.”
“Oh?” Grimsley fully turns around, his attention grabbed. “Is the grouchy ol’ Officer Nanu worried about me?” He purrs, his hand coming up to rest on his chin with a sharp-fanged teasing grin. The gambler is met with a roll of the eyes in response.
“Think whatever you want as long as it prevents you from causing a disturbance at an unreasonable hour.” Nanu knew Grimsley was an insomniac — and Grimsley knew he knew as well. Despite the Kahuna’s nagging, he recognized that hidden, underlying familiar playfulness. An extremely subtle softness that he was terribly, terribly fond of.
And of course, like a stray cat drawn to an opened can of fish, Grimsley steps away from the shore towards the gruff old man he had grown attached to. Though, he wasn’t ready to admit that one, yet. He simply allowed the pull, to go wherever the wind took him.
…It just so happened that the ‘wind’ often led him towards Nanu’s place. Pure coincidence, certainly! He just needed a place to sleep, is all. Never mind the fact that he’s been living in Alola, often crashing out at Nanu’s for a couple of years now. He could leave whenever he wanted. It was all just temporary. He liked that he didn’t have a home, it was a liberating, nomadic life. He could leave at any time! But why would he? The gorgeous beaches of this region were unmatched, and it was so entertaining to crush the other contestants in Alola’s surfing tournaments… There was no other region that came close to Alola’s true appreciation of the sea.
The man Grimsley was before, highly-positioned as a member of the Elite Four and full of pride, would resist the urge to gag at how domestic he has become; whether he was in denial of it or not.
...Oh how the mighty have fallen.