Author's Note: As previously stated, Otachi are Sentret and Pichu are Pichu (easy!). Since it's been a while since he's been mentioned, I'll repeat that Kenji is Tracey. Masaki is Bill, the researcher in Kogane/Goldenrod.

Diverging from the anime (maybe?), this world requires all official trainers to have renewable licences in order to catch or own Pokemon, similar to how you get an ID card in the video games. This should hopefully explain one of Yukiko's comments in addition to any ID references made in the future of this 'fic. I've also made cities have curfews for trainers, to keep them from battling within city limits too late at night. Forgive me if this is too AU for you (because I'm not removing it).

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon or its characters. The story is a work of fiction and in no way shall money be made from this endeavor. Unauthorized reproduction or copying of this fiction is not allowed (aka do not copy/post/save to your hard drive or elsewhere).

Melody of a Memory
By Leika Lai

Chapter Thirteen

It's early morning and, lost in the heavy fog of slumber, I can barely hear the faint cry of birds outside the open window. I'm not awake, not yet. I refuse to be.

Eventually, I realize that repeating this phrase won't send me back to sleep. I groan and nestle into the pillow. It's too early in the morning, I know it; I can tell when I wake up before noon and this was one of those days. Reluctantly I stretch beneath my blanket, reaching out my limbs in an effort to regain some energy and desire to start the day. My arm barely makes it a few inches before brushing against something, coming up against an odd lump in the covers.

I blink my eyes to clear them of sleep, and it takes a few moments before my gesture yields success. I find that the lump is, in fact, a mound of covers. The bed to my right is unmade, used by someone other than myself.

I start to notice more subtle differences in the room, too. The light, for one, was coming from a window on the wrong side of the room. The layout of the furniture was...completely off. My heart beats rapidly as confusion sets in. I pull the blanket half over my face, tucking its edge beneath my chin while I try to ignore the oddities of this morning.

Behind me, I hear a door in the hall creak shut, then a closer one open and close. Footsteps resound and Shigeru appears at the foot of the bed. The fabric of his shirt is damp around the collar and a tie hangs limp across his shoulders. His hair is unkempt and dark from the shower he must have recently finished. I slept so deeply, I mustn't have noticed.

He pays me no notice as he goes about his routine, stealthily approaching the dresser and grabbing deodorant from atop it. Quickly, quietly, he sets about buttoning his shirt. I remain still, my eyes partly closed as I feign sleep. He silently twists a cap off of a jar and rushes his hand through its contents. Shigeru leans towards a small mirror on the dresser and starts loosely pushing his hands through his hair.

So that's how he gets it to do that. I absentmindedly brush my hand over my head, feeling how my hair sticks up in all directions. Shigeru must catch my motion in the mirror because he suddenly turns around. His brow furrowed with concentration, he wraps up his routine without the use of the mirror as he watches me instead.

"Morning," he says quietly. Wiping his palms together, he asks, "How'd you sleep?"

"Good," I murmur. I pull up the blanket, feeling suddenly shy in his presence.

Shigeru nods silently, his attention slowly returning to the mirror. He sets to work on his tie and I watch him as he completes this practiced motion, his hands fluidly transforming the strip of fabric into its formal positioning. Over, under – I never understood it.

"So...I accidentally slept over last night, huh?" I keep my voice light and casual, masking my inner anxiety. His hands, I note, slow in their work on his tie.

"Mhm," Shigeru murmurs, his gaze remaining in the mirror.

"Sorry to inconvenience you," I begin, but Shigeru cuts me off with a shake of his head.

"You're not an inconvenience." He pulls a jacket from within the closet and props it over an arm. Shigeru approaches my side of the bed and sits close. I start pulling the covers back over my face, but he takes hold of them before I can finish the motion. I freeze, suddenly feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

Shigeru and I never just look at each other. It never happens without reason, yet now...

"Are you feeling better?" he asks, and I know immediately he doesn't mean sickness-wise.

I bunch the covers in front of me, for something to do. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"D'you want to... talk about it?"

I answer with a frenzied shake of my head. No.

His gaze flickers away, down to the coat roughly folded in his arms. "You're coming to supper tonight, right? You promised, Sato."

"Wha- oh. I guess," I mumble, choosing this moment to bury my face into the pillow once more. Shigeru scoffs and tousles my hair. The motion is pleasant and familiar, like a habit.

"You'll like Kiko, honest," he tells me, standing as he speaks. I sit up, feeling slightly dizzy, and watch as Shigeru pauses at the door before exiting the room. "It'll do you good to get out of the house."

"What're you, my mother?" I huff, slumping back onto the bed.

"I won't be back after meeting with my lawyer today," he tells me. "I'm just going to head right to the restaurant. Try and be there by six, okay? And dress in decent clothes."

I reply with a lazy nod of my head. As Shigeru's hand rests on the doorknob, he waits a heartbeat before nodding in turn and leaving for work. I stare at the space he vacated, wondering at the gnawing feeling in my stomach.

True to habit, I don't do much with the day besides wait for the evening to arrive. Sleep until the afternoon, a light dosage of car-watching, and as a follow-up I go for another walk around the neighbourhood. By late afternoon I've wrapped up the day with a quick post-walk shower.

Now I stand in front of my opened closet, wondering what the hell to wear.

Shigeru said to dress decently, but I wonder exactly what he meant by it. I don't want to seem too formal for my first meeting with Yukiko; he gave the impression that she was an earthy sort of girl. Still, I hedge my bets and pick a dress shirt and dark pants, and I fight with my hair for half an hour to keep it mostly under controlled. Resigning myself to the best I could do, I begin my trek downtown.

The evening, although it is quickly darkening to dusk, is surprisingly warm and dry. I walk two blocks before finding a taxi and shortly arrive at the restaurant. I smile at the memory of being here with Shigeru. Hard to believe so little time has passed since we were here last. A lot has happened since then.

I had hoped I'd have arrived before Yukiko or Shigeru, but I see Shigeru and a figure resembling his description of the girl standing outside the restaurant, staring at something in the restaurant's window. Giving my hair a final, nervous straightening and checking my breath in my palm, I approach the couple before me.

Her hair was not quite the style I remembered from her Seikei League profile picture. It was the same teal color but now in a wavy, mid-length bob with long, dense bangs brushed across one temple. Unlike the restaurant's formal patrons within, she wears a white denim jacket over a faded shirt, her pale jeans looking worn out by people who owned them long before her. She perches a large pair of brown sunglasses atop her head as she speaks adamantly with Shigeru. They do not turn to face me, even as I approach their side. I start to say 'hello' when I realize they are mid-conversation.

"Damnit, Shigeru," she says, wrinkling her nose as she casts her thumb towards the menu in the window, "I told you to pick someplace cheap. I can't afford anything but the house salad here."

"And I told you I'm picking up your tab."

"Not happening," she stiffly replies. "I've got a better idea."

"Oh?" he asks, and I shuffle in place, wondering if I should inject myself into the conversation.

Yukiko nods emphatically. "You've forgotten. Thursday nights, we belong at a bar a half-dozen blocks–" she gestures to her left "–thataway."

I glance warily at Shigeru, wondering what was going on. I see slow comprehension dawn on his face. "Thursday nights were–"

"Amateur wrestling nights!" Yukiko beams, barely containing herself. "Just like old times."

Shigeru laughs and shakes his head. That glowing smile of his finally turns back in my direction, and despite my reservations I can't help but grin myself. He nudges my arm as I fall in beside him, a step or two behind Yukiko. "Glad to see you made it. You look good," he adds, smiling aloofly, as he finishes his appraisal of my outfit. I duck my head down embarrassedly, accepting his compliment with a grin on my face.

The three of us start down the street, walking towards something I don't understand.

"Amateur wrestling?" I whisper to him, wondering why they would want to go to such a thing. Shigeru chooses to feign innocence under my suspicious glare, his eyebrows raised and a benign smirk on his face.

"So, this good-looking man here is Satoshi, I presume." Yukiko walks backwards, facing me and holding her hand congenially out. I grip it warmly and give a light pump, providing my introduction. She winks coyly. "I'm Merumi Yukiko. Damn, Shigeru, you didn't tell me he was so suave; I should have dressed purdy too."

"Hush," he replies, smiling wide and shaking his head. I squint in his direction, trying to read him, but Shigeru is as inexplicable as ever.

"Hopefully he's said nothing bad about me." I look to him semi-worriedly.

"That'd be impossible." Yukiko sticks her tongue out between her teeth. "What about me? Has Shigeru told you much?"

I shrug. "Bits and pieces. 'The big details', I suppose."

"Good, we can skip that boring stuff already."

Nice. Already I know I'll like her company.

I listen as she and Shigeru bicker idly before we even reach the pub; Shigeru gives her an exasperated look and she slaps him playfully on the arm, echoing a familiarity I shared with my friends oh so long ago. I smile to myself, enjoying the nostalgia they elicit, the friendliness I knew in better days.

We reach the bar within minutes and pick up tickets at the door; Yukiko directs us through the loosely gathered patrons, waving at the bartender and exchanging brief greetings with him as we move upstairs. We stop at a second storey booth, a curved one near a semi-circled balcony overlooking some sort of temporary ring on the floor below. Shigeru slides into the booth, leaving Yukiko and me to either side of him. The crowd is sparse upstairs.

"So, Yukiko," I ask, "I take it you've been here before?"

She nods vigorously. "It was kind of a tradition we had, watching the old non-pro's every week."

"Yukiko worked at this bar for a stint during university," Shigeru explains. "It's not real wresting, just a show they put on – didn't realize they kept the competition up for so many years, though."

"You two went to school together?" I ask, glancing at her.

Yukiko gestures at a passing server, attempting to flag them down. "Nah, I was in the city temporarily, not taking studies. Too expensive."

"Kiko's ambitions did not extend far beyond traveling and talking incessantly."

"And amateur wrestling," she adds, winking at me. "I dragged them out here more than once or twice."

Shigeru snorts. "Jules hated it, y'know."

"She did not! I asked her and she loved it by the end of second year."

"True, but that was still had two solid years of her hating it with a passion..."

"Jules could have stayed home if she wanted," Yukiko argues, and I am left feeling like the odd person out. I had imagined Shigeru and Yukiko being friends, but not... not Julia too. It was difficult to picture this cheeky girl being friends with Shigeru's dour wife, the three of them going out and having fun together.

"But you've known Shigeru for years and years?" I ask Yukiko, segueing myself back into their conversation. The server has come and gone with our orders, and Shigeru requested a pitcher for our table.

"Mhmm. Like, thirteen or so. Almost as long as you've known him, I suppose."

"Give or take ten years. We were children when we first met." Shigeru scoffs, inciting another playful punch from Yukiko. She rests her crossed arms on the table. Around us, the booths start filling up and the crowd talks louder.

"So then, has Shigeru been up to anything embarrassing in that time?" I grin teasingly at him, "Any terrible secrets I missed out on?"

"If you only knew!" Yukiko laughs and Shigeru rolls his eyes, silently questioning why he is here again. She continues mirthfully, "There's this one time, he and I–"

"Kiko, stuff it."

Winking at me, she says, "We'll swap stories sometime, right, Satoshi?"

"You'll do no such thing," Shigeru replies. "Besides, anything you know is worthless."

"Ouch. We'll see what Satoshi has to say about that."

I smile blandly and look down to the table, deciding it might be worth changing subjects before Shigeru actually got upset. "So what brings you here from Kogane?"

"Oh, work, work, work." Yukiko sighs, lifting her pint to her lips. "The day care had a dozen or so Otachi eggs from the same mother, and almost half of the newborns had unique coloring to them. I'm just here because the babies belong to a research facility in the city."

"Yours?" I ask, nodding towards Shigeru.

He shakes his head. "A different branch. Sounds like they specialize in genetics, maybe color differentiation of monsters."

"So you're a breeder at the day care? Researcher...?" I ask, wondering how exactly Yukiko fit into this scenario.

Yukiko shrugs, an odd smile on her face. "More of a run-around errand girl than a breeder, I suppose," she says, a hint of embarrassment in her voice. "The Otachi are too young for Pokeballs, and the researchers couldn't spare somebody to pick them up. Thus, someone had to deliver them and that someone was me."

"But you were turned away a week ago because some of them were sick, right?" Shigeru asks. "So why'd airport security let you through this time?"

"Well, here's what happened," Yukiko replies, briskly shaking her hands out. With the charisma of a performer, she gives us a mirthful grin. "I get to the airport and the attendant starts complaining that one of the Otachi is snivelling, like with a runny nose. They say I'm a flight risk and kick me out, and won't even reimburse me my ticket! I was so mad, since it's not like I can just buy one of those every day, and my bosses will only splurge for half the cost so I–"

"Sometime today, Kiko," Shigeru mutters over the rim of his pint.

"Shh, Geru, you ruin it! Anyways, so after Kogane's airport kicks me out, I bring the babies back to the Pokemon Centre. Not even the nurses there can figure out what the Otachi was sick with, so I bring him to Researcher Masaki's house nearby before heading back to the day care. He looks over the little guy and guess what?"

I shake my head, not certain what to say.

"Turns out, the Otachi was sick with Pokerus."

"Pokerus?" Shigeru frowns. "But that's incredibly rare and–"

"I know! Which is why, when I told the researchers in Tokusane about it, they called up the airport and screamed at the attendants until they finally booked me onto another flight. At no cost to me!"

"Wow," I mutter.

"I know, right?" Yukiko laughs. "I've gone from Get away from us, Sick Girl to being Can we bring you another complementary beverage, Madame in a week. One by one the pups have caught the virus, so now a few labs are fighting for the rights to study the Otachi. Researchers want to interview me, ask me about how they caught the virus, blah blah. That's why I'm in town for the extra days; I have interviews at a couple labs tomorrow morning."

"Nicely done, Kiko," Shigeru smiles.

Yukiko waves her hand dismissively over the table. "But anyways, enough of this. I'm sick of talking about me. Tell me," she turns to Shigeru, lilting her voice pleasingly, "how are the girls?"

"Pretty good."

"They're coping well enough?" – he nods – "Ah, so that's good. Have you met them yet, Satoshi?" Yukiko asks, smiling at me.

"Not in person, no."

"Aw, such a crime!" Yukiko beams in response. "They're monstrously adorable. I get cavities talking to them, they're so sweet." She taps Shigeru in the arm. "So which day are they...?"

"Shut up, Kiko," Shigeru growls through a smile, "it's not official; our lawyers are still in negotiation."

"I don't know what? What're you hiding, Geru?"

Shigeru smiles and shakes his head, refusing to answer forthright. "Just that Jules might be looking for some time apart from the girls."

"And how is she doing?" Yukiko asks, her tone sobering. "Are things getting any better between you two?"

I tense up in my seat, mostly because I know from experience that Shigeru isn't terribly willing to discuss the divorce. With Yukiko, though, he doesn't seem so reluctant.

"We talk mostly through our law firms," Shigeru says, clearing his throat before drinking from his glass. "But I've phoned her and she's called me a couple times. Sometimes we meet in the afternoon for coffee, but that's pretty rare."

"And are things working out?" I ask, tentatively injecting myself into the conversation.

He sighs and sounds agitated as he answers, "I suppose." Shigeru pauses in his response, trying to decide how to continue. He looks to Yukiko. "We still don't know who'll get the house and who gets the girls."

"So that's how you're splitting the two?" she replies, topping up her glass as she does.

"Sounds awful when you put it that way," he replies with a grimace, "picking between a mansion and children."

I feel sorry for Shigeru; Yukiko must sense she's hit a nerve as well, because she says quietly, "Sorry, I wasn't criticizing."

"No, it's okay." He shakes his head. "I know you didn't mean anything by it."

"Do you have a sense of which way custody's leaning yet?" she asks, but Shigeru cuts her off with another head shake. I look down at my hands, and Yukiko begins again, "I wish I'd talked to her lately; she's never home when I call. I just feel so bad for her. I mean, how she found out about the whole thing–"

"What do you mean?" I ask, frowning slightly.

Shigeru and Yukiko share a split-second look, and I suddenly know I'm not getting a truthful response. Yukiko gestures her hands tensely in front of her. "The divorce has been really shitty for everyone, a-and…Julia, she's been through a lot because of it."

I look to Shigeru and nudge his arm, hoping he would decipher Yukiko's words. When he avoids my gaze, though, I know this won't happen. Yukiko must have overstepped her bounds and said something she shouldn't have.

"Anyways," she continues smoothly, smirking at Shigeru. "I told you, you never should've married her. We would've made a better fake-couple than you and Jules. At least both of us would've been in on the lie."

"Except we'd only last a week before wanting to kill one another," Shigeru replies blithely. I grab the pitcher from the table's centre and refill my glass, my gaze trained on the two of them like they are an interesting show on TV.

"Think of the chemistry, though," Yukiko insists teasingly. "Your grandpa would've been off your back about marriage if you'd just introduced me to him…."

"Except that Kenji was all over me at that time, and he would've spilled the beans about our sham-coupling if–"

"Wait, what?" I interrupt, nearly dropping my glass. "What're you talking about? And what's this about Kenji? You're both talking over my head."

Shigeru frowns and shakes his head, and Yukiko giggles to herself. He looks embarrassed to even mention it, so she explains, "Back when Shigeru started university I told him, if he wanted me to, I would act like his girlfriend–" She wavers, suddenly second-guessing her words. One slip-up tonight is enough for her.

"C'mon, Kiko – you're really hesitating now?" Shigeru grins at me before taking a swill of his drink, and I instinctively smile back at him. "Sato knows."

Yukiko sighs with relief. "I thought so, but – yeah, anyways…. I offered to help get his grandfather to stop bugging him about not having a girlfriend. But, at the time–"

"–At the time, Kenji was making romantic advances on me." Shigeru continues, gesturing with a pint in hand. "Now, he didn't know much, but he knew that Kiko and I were just friends, so–"

"–So if we tried fooling Ookido-Hakase," she interjects, turning back to me, "I'm pretty sure Kenji would've spilled the truth to the professor, and then Shigeru would've had to explain why he was fake-dating girls…."

I stare at Shigeru, dumbfounded. "Kenji knew too?"

Shigeru grimaces again. "He suspected, but he had no evidence. When I kyboshed his advances, he must've assumed I wasn't interested and stopped paying me attention." He laughs. "He was so embarrassed; I think that's why he left the ranch."

Yukiko snickers. "Kenji was just after you to get to your grandpa."

"Don't, Kiko." Shigeru makes a face similar to one he had while eating tuna casserole.

I tug again on Shigeru's arm, regaining his full attention. "But you said Kenji wasn't–"

"I never said any such thing," Shigeru replies, leaning into my side and giving me a knowing smirk. "You just assumed my response."

I grin and bump my knee into his. "So was Kenji this first-crush you had?"

"Shigeru told you about that?" Yukiko asks me, surprised.

"It definitely wasn't Kenji," Shigeru bluntly replies. He gives me a look like I must be dumb to even suggest it; my cheeks grow red under his gaze until he finally shies his attention back to Yukiko. "Doesn't this qualify as a boring topic, ancient history?"

Yukiko laughs yet again. "It's ancient history only when everybody knows about it. Satoshi doesn't, thus it's a relevant subject."

"Damn." He takes a drink from his water glass. "If that's the guidelines, then… Kiko, are you dating what's-his-face yet?"

"Jason?" Yukiko makes a nasty face. "Ew. Never ever." I look at her imploringly, wishing I understood their short-hand conversations. For my benefit, she elaborates, "Jason is this creep who works part-time at the day care."

"He lusts after Kiko," Shigeru explains, leaning close to her and grinning suggestively at me.

"Ugh, barf my face off – don't put it that way!" She shoves him away.

"Is he a stalker?" I ask her quickly.

Yukiko vehemently nods, her expression blatant with disgust. "The worst. He wormed his way into the day care by bringing his Pokemon all the time. He compliments me for raising 'our' monster so well, saying we'll be great parents when we're 'together'."

Shigeru grimaces sympathetically. "Delusional."

"What about you, Satoshi?" she asks. "Any nightmare girlfriends you want to tell us about?" As she notices the color on my cheeks, Yukiko adds teasingly, "Nightmare boyfriends? C'mon, the dating scene for the Master must be pretty unique. Plenty of juicy stories…."

I hesitate, unsure what to say. "I've had a couple stalkers, like you," I begin nervously, glancing Shigeru's way. "But as for crazy girlfriends–" I shrug "–I've never dated anyone for very long. Two weeks, maybe a month was the longest, I think, and that's barely enough time to figure out which ones are the scary ones."

"No serious girlfriends? What a pity," Yukiko says slowly, giving Shigeru a pointed look. Shigeru glares daggers at her in response.

I'm not sure what else to say; I feel uncomfortable discussing the subject and am unwilling to elaborate. Clearing my throat, I start angling myself out of the booth. "I'm just gonna go to the washroom. I'll be right back." Yukiko directs me where to go, and I excuse myself from the table.

Yukiko casually watches me as I head downstairs, waiting until I am out of earshot before facing Shigeru. She glances at the nearby tables and moves conspiratorially close to Shigeru.

"He's adorable," is all she says, but it is enough to send a chill along Shigeru's spine. She continues, her tone kept low and mirthful, "His arms, in particular, are delish."

"Kiko," Shigeru begins warningly, pressing his fingers to his temple.

"No, really," She continues, oblivious. "I thought he'd have a slighter build, like you, but he's just–" she sighs "–yum. And his hair's so short compared to his profile pictu–"

"–It is, isn't it?" Shigeru says in spite of himself. "He kept it so scruffy as a teenager."

"Still looks good though," she says thoughtfully. "Good bangs, a nice style. Not too short, really. A nice length for running fingers through..."

Shigeru thinks of last night, his hand in my hair, wisps brushing lightly against his cheek while I tuck my face against his neck and tremble–

"Stop," he sighs, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

"What? What'm I doing?" she asks.

"You're being obnoxious."

"Well then, bear with me because I'm not finished yet." Despite his annoyance, Shigeru grins; this is the Yukiko he knows so well, and it was wonderful to be receiving her banter in person.

"So he doesn't have a girlfriend?"

"Not at the moment, no." He picks up his pint and holds it in front of his mouth, hiding his expression from her.

Yukiko taps her nose and points at him, a wide smile on her face. "Shigeru–"

"Don't even start," he interrupts. He hasn't mentioned our awkward kiss to her, nor last night's adventure.

Yukiko shrugs. "You never know, he might actually be gay. Or bi, or ace, I don't know."

"Yukiko, please stop." The devious smile on her face gives him no confidence, so he continues, "It's been a struggle just to become friends with him again, let alone anything else."

"And you'd be satisfied with that?"

"I'll take what I can get."

"Ugh, Shigeru!" Yukiko snaps her fingers in front of his face, breaking his pensive lament. "Don't be so dramatic. You're scared he doesn't like you – I don't blame you; it's a huge leap to make. But your problem is that you're so convinced it'll never happen; you always have been." Reclining in the booth, she shrugs idly and continues, "I think he's interested."

"And why do you say–?" Shigeru begins, but he stops as Yukiko responds. She rests both hands pointedly on his, nudging his leg with hers while coyly raising one eyebrow. Shigeru swallows thickly.

"His body language doesn't scream 'let's be just friends, Shigeru'. At least, not to me." Leaning confidently back in the booth, she continues, "I'm calling it like I see it, and I already know what you're thinking about him." Yukiko picks up her pint and mutters to herself, "You can't tell me fourteen years of lusting after the boy just goes away like it's nothing."

Shigeru's heartbeat sounds clumsy and loud in his ears. He doesn't respond, choosing instead to keep scowling at Yukiko. He doesn't know how to explain how confusing the past couple days have been. Still, he's not the only one reading the signals.

By this time, I am making my way back upstairs. Yukiko catches sight of me closing in; she leans towards Shigeru and gestures for him to be quiet. She does her best to appear neutral as I return to my seat.

"Sorry, the crowd's really filled in downstairs. Hard to walk around," I explain, smiling weakly as I slide into the rounded booth beside Shigeru. He roughly moves to make room for me, and I feel a slight tension between the two of them. Puzzled by Shigeru's awkward manner, I ask, "What'd I miss?"

Shigeru gives Yukiko a sharp look before replying, "Boring stuff. More ancient history."

Yukiko shakes her head but says nothing.

The wrestling started around seven-thirty and was marked by Yukiko's sudden disappearance from the booth as she moved to the balcony for a better view. While not as enthused as Yukiko, Shigeru and I still edged closer to watch the fights. There were about a dozen competitors tonight, each dressed in elaborate costumes and equipped with varying degrees of skill, but they were all showing the crowd hyper levels of bravado. Yukiko even recognized one competitor from their university years ("The Mister Mime!" she squeals, earning Shigeru's quip, "He shouldn't be an amateur anymore, should he?") and she vigorously cheered the man on.

The crowd is at least half of the experience, I decide, surveying the faces lit up with delight around me. They are raucous, boisterous, and wholly devoted to this bizarre ritual bordering somewhere between wrestling and theatrical performance. Even the audience pushes against one other as they mimic the actions below; I couldn't help but grin as we watch the circle. My body feels languid and lithe, making me more than willing to shout and jostle along with the rest of the crowd.

"C'mon, toss him out!" Yukiko bellows from Shigeru's opposite side, inching up on her tiptoes and leaning across the balcony's tall railing. She bumps shoulders with a guy on her right, and the two of them boo loudly as a skinny, red-striped man struggles to heft a man dressed as a mime-Pokemon hybrid off the ground.

"What the hell is going on?" I laugh to Shigeru. "How'd you ever get into this, Geru?"

Shigeru grins and shrugs idly. He momentarily reels as a fan bumps into his back. "Yukiko. She loves this stuff, hunts it out in every city she's been to. Follows it religiously."

"Amateur wrestling, though?"

Shigeru laughs and nods his head. "I know, right? This isn't one of the more professional circuits – more like 'amateur' amateur wrestling, but..." he trails off. "Even Julia got in to this, eventually."

"I can't imagine," I chuckle. He imitates my position along the railing, leaning on his crooked elbows and holding the remnants of his pint in hand. He and Yukiko had made impressive use of the cheap alcohol offered tonight; the two of them were collectively out-drinking me three-to-one.

A rough heave from behind pushes me against the guardrail, and Shigeru retaliates by shoving one-handed at the guy, who then responds with a vehement yell of joy as he obliviously continues along his path. I laugh and shake my head as the guy rejoins his drunken friends.

Down below, the monster-mime bounces around earnestly in the ring, his fists dancing back and forth in mock-boxing style. Unperturbed, the red-striped man ducks low and hefts the mime onto his shoulders again, spinning him around before they both fall gracelessly to the floor.

"No!" I hear Yukiko scream somewhere offside. A push from down the line shoves her and another man into Shigeru's side, sending him forcefully in my direction. Having caught onto the crowd's 'spectating is a contact sport too' mentality, I drop my right shoulder in anticipation for the upcoming blow.

Despite his intoxication, Shigeru smoothly raises his half-filled glass over my shoulder, spilling not a drop as he stumbles into me; his arm lithely crosses my back, his glass coming to rest – upright, intact – upon my left shoulder. Whatever skill was upon him now vacates, however, and he wavers in place, struggling to remain on his feet.

I laugh and grab the pint out of his hand. "You're drunk. I'm cutting you off."

Shigeru grumbles in response, rubbing his side and leaning his body against me and the rail. His hand slides down my back, coming to rest on my waist. My wicked grin drops as he rests his head on my shoulder. Shigeru's voice is drowned out by the crowd, but I manage to catch his words. "I'm glad you're here tonight. Not Jules."

I nod, not certain what to say. His body is warm, and bubbly pools of heat rise up in my chest. Too-soon he withdraws, and I see his cheeks flush from alcohol. "Julia would sulk at the table back there" – he thumbs idly at the booth Yukiko had picked – "and wouldn't cheer for anyone. Not at first, anyways. So I'm glad you seem to enjoy it better than she did."

"I do," I reply dumbly. All the smooth responses I could have made just fled from my head.

He drags his thumb over the rim of his glass, holding it with both hands as he casts his attention back to the ring. A numb calm seems to come over me then, and even though the crowd remains boisterous and active, I feel like there's a quiet place in the room for just me and him.

But it ends along with the wrestling, shortly after eleven.

Yukiko, staggering slightly, gripes about the eventual winner ("Damn Mister Mime lost his touch!" "Along with your twenty bucks, Kiko.") and we leave the bar amidst the crowd's excited exodus. Shigeru seems more charismatic than usual, leaving me to believe he had, indeed, drank too much, and Yukiko is giggly and energetic yet lacking in refined motor skills. Although I wasn't doing much better myself – my head feels cloudy and mulled – I was still miles ahead of Yukiko.

"Should we call it a night?" Shigeru asks, pulling Yukiko into his side. "It's getting late, and you have interviews tomorrow."

"I know, I know," Yukiko mutters, frowning. "I just don't wanna go yet..."

"Where are you staying?" I ask, looking past Shigeru to the petite girl.

Yukiko gestures a thumb over her shoulder, pointing vaguely towards half of Tokusane. "I'm put up at the Pokemon Centre. The researchers might love to have me in the city, but they weren't footing the bill for a flight and hotel so – pfft! To the cheapest place, I go."

"The Centre let you in?" I ask, frowning. "But hasn't your Trainer ID expired?"

"Yeah," she sighs, a mischievous grin playing on her face, "But through clever placement of my thumb over the expiration date, I was able to confuse the new nurse into letting me stay."

"Tricky wench," Shigeru mutters, eliciting a blearily-thrown punch in response. He stops her first fist easy enough, which earns him a second loose punch to the stomach. He grunts as the weak blow makes contact with his torso.

"You're such a jerk, all the time." Yukiko pouts, crossing behind Shigeru to stand beside me. Threading an arm through mine, she adds, "At least Satoshi is nice to me."

Shigeru's expression tightens as he watches Yukiko lean deeply into my side. I don't know how to react; I stupidly wonder if she is being serious with her sudden advancement, but I soon know she's trying to get a response out of Shigeru. My mind stutters at the thought. Why would he care if she's just holding my arm?

Whatever she was looking for from Shigeru, see seems to get it. She sighs and returns to walking between us, keeping a normal distance away from both of us. "Alright, so the night's over, then," she says forlornly. Yukiko squints one eye and pokes Shigeru in the side. "And don't be so glad to be rid of me."

He rolls his eyes and swats half-heartedly at her. "Hate to break it to you, Kiko, but I doubt Nurse Joi will let you into the Centre tonight."

"Why? What'd I do?" Yukiko sounds so crestfallen that I start laughing for no reason.

Shigeru gives me a knowing smile, "See? Sato knows what I'm saying." He rests his arm over her shoulders, pulling her in tight as he says (in the most serious voice he can manage), "You're drunk, and a poor example to have around impressionable young trainers."

"But I'm tipsy, not drunk. No..." she whines, burying her face into his chest.

"No, really. You'll stagger through the hallway and wake everyone up, and there'll be a spectacle that's fun for everybody except you. So, what I'm saying," he continues, half-talking into the crown of her head, "is you should just catch a cab with us to Sato's."

"Sleepover?" Yukiko says, sounding suddenly hopeful. She removes her face from his chest and beams at me. "Would that be okay?"

"Sure," I nod in agreement. "If there's nothing you need back from the Centre, it should be fine. I have bedding and extra bath stuff, if you need 'em."

"Sleepover!" she repeats, laughing. "I haven't couchsurfed in ages, this'll be great."

Giving me a warm grin, she flashes a graceful arm out onto the street and flags down a passing taxi with surprising ease. Shigeru piles into the cab after her, half-falling as she intentionally messes with his ability to sit. I try and make room in the crowded back seat and Shigeru pulls at my knees, bringing me close as I fasten my belt.

We reach my home shortly. I lead them into the darkened building, gesturing around the first floor and giving Yukiko a brief tour of the rooms. She seems thrilled with my tiny living space, commenting on how cozy the whole house seems. I send Shigeru upstairs (who languidly nods in agreement) to fetch some bedding from the linen closet, and we transform the couch into a makeshift bed.

Pulling the curtains shut across the front window, Yukiko seems satisfied to just recline along the sofa. "I have an old pair of pyjamas, if you'd like," I proffer.

"That'd be wonderful," Yukiko replies, her eyes closed and her hands pressed to her forehead. She stretches the latter word out until it fully contains her gratitude.

I grin and head upstairs while Shigeru follows me at a less directed pace; as we reach my room, he leans heavily against the wall, watching as I fish through drawers for a small-sized shirt and pants that I no longer wore. Pyjamas in hand, I turn off the light and brush past Shigeru, placing the clothes on the floor outside the bathroom door. I feel rather than see his approach from behind, his hands gliding over my sides until they rest across my stomach. A chill passes pleasantly through me. He leans into me like he needs me for balance.

"Some night, huh?" I whisper, to which he just nods.

We're just quiet together, soaking in the darkness of the hall, enveloped by the silence left in that talkative girl's absence. I'm not thinking of much, just trying to absorb everything the night had brought with it; it felt distant, surreal, like I had to catch it in order to make it tangible. Behind me, Shigeru nuzzles my hair, tightens his hold on me and kisses the crook of my neck. He then releases me, returning us to being two separate people once more.

"So, what'd you think of Kiko?" he whispers. He slips over to the other side of the hall, resting against his door frame.

"She's...wow." I feel breathless, without words.

"Intense, huh?"

"Like a mini-whirlwind of enthusiasm."

Shigeru laughs, nodding. I slump against the wall beside him. "You were quiet tonight," he says.

I sigh. "It was fun just watching you two talk. Reminded me of... She reminds me a bit of Kasumi, only not so mad."

"You seemed sad though." No judgment in his tone, just observation.

"No, I wasn't. I just..." I sigh again, shaking my head. "I miss my friends."

We lapse into silence for a couple heartbeats. "Kiko adores you, y'know," he murmurs. "Thinks you're the cutest thing since – I dunno, they discovered Pichus. Or something."

I glance away, my cheeks feeling slightly warm. "Don't know why she'd think so. I hardly said more than a couple sentences in a row the whole night. Not enough to form an opinion of me."

"I know, but that doesn't matter." Shigeru shrugs. "She's a good judge of character."

I look over at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. Something is...different about him, I realize. His expression contains something I've never seen, never noticed. He almost seems sad as well; the smooth, calm exterior he always has is still there, but it's distorted, melancholy. I shy away, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze. Shigeru nods and rubs at his side, frowning as he brushes over the bruise he must find, the souvenir the rough crowd gave him.

"Kiko got you good with that elbow, eh?"

"Wouldn't have hurt so much if her bones weren't so sharp." He stretches out his arms and nearly stumbles with the shift in balance it brings. He quickly grips the door frame and looses a low whistle of relief.

"You, sir, are drunk," I laugh.

"Tired and tipsy," he argues, shutting his eyes and cocking a half-grin in my direction.

I guide him into the room, marching him forward until he sits down at the foot of his bed. "Try and explain your hangover to your co-workers tomorrow."

"I'm only there for a half-day, it's not like they're ones to notice," he mumbles, his expression momentarily darkening. He rests his chin in his hands, propping his arms on his thighs as his head hangs heavily down.

I halt in front of him and cross my arms. "You're not working so late?"

"Cut back my hours today…. Conference is coming up, so I don't need the extra project on my plate. Enough is enough."

I touch his hair, smoothing out the wild spot on the back of his head, and Shigeru sighs and latches his fingers through my front belt loops, drawing me near. I staunch my instinctive stammers when he only rests his head against my stomach, his forehead burying into the front of my shirt as his arms wrap languidly about my waist.

I don't move or speak for a moment, unsure of what he's trying to do. But when Shigeru just stays like this, doesn't push for anything beyond this semi-hold he has me in, I reach down and slide my fingers into his hair. He sighs, his guard dropping low, and I bring my arms around his shoulders, wrapping his head in a loose hug.

How exhausted he must be, with all the issues he carries with him each day. Divorce, work, me. It's too much.

A light knock resounds from the hall behind and I nearly jump out of my skin. Shigeru gracelessly breaks away and staggers to feet, stumbling to be in front of me as we both face the sound.

Yukiko is in the middle of the hall, holding my old clothes in one arm as the other supports her against the wall. Her gaze flickers between us. "Hope I'm not be interrupting anything," she says, a benign, knowing look on her face.

Despite the darkness, I feel like she can see me blush. Shigeru grumbles, "Need something, Kiko?"

She drops her hands against her thighs. "I need a toothbrush. My mouth feels like the inside of a keg."

"In the bathroom, under the sink," I reply, struggling to sound normal. How long had she been standing there?

Yukiko stands there unmoving for a moment. Clicking her tongue, she spares a final glance to us. "Carry on, then," she says quietly. "Goodnight." She flicks on the bathroom light, casting light into the hall for a moment before she exits into its depths. I squint against the onslaught; what a way to break the mood.

Casting a furtive glance back at Shigeru, my pulse drumming strong in my chest, I head for my room. "Night, Shigeru."

Shigeru grunts in response, returning to sit in a lithe slump on his bed. His head droops back into one hand, his other hand idly waving adieu.

I pause one last time, then grab my door and shut it behind me. Safely inside my room, I hesitate again. Did I make a mistake...? No, Shigeru would be fine. We could talk tomorrow if we had to.

Besides, he might want to blame it on alcohol and not speak of it again, but I severely doubt it. There was something about him tonight, some sort of simple loneliness I had missed that had reached out and connected with my own... A chill ripples through me – maybe from the cold air as I change for bed, but again I doubt it. The heat in my stomach burns on like a furnace, the absence of his touch sorely noted, and I groan softly as I thump onto my bed.

Damn, I think as I pull up my covers. I'm not going to sleep at all tonight.

-0-0-0-0-

It's not a perfect chapter; there are many things about it I would like to fix, but it would take too long. I'm thinking it's better to post imperfections than to not post until I'm absolutely satisfied with it. I hope you agree with that sentiment. This chapter started out as 'too-many' thousand words in length, and thusly I decided 'Hey. I'm going to rewrite it, to try and make it shorter.' Except by time the rewrite was over I added another 1,000 words to the count. I better quit while I'm ahead.

What's new, dears? Long time, no see. I have been absolutely awful for not responding to people on this site and I am so, so sorry. Life has been… strange. I'm sure most of you know what that's like from time to time.

Now, I don't say this to be mean or to scare readers, only to be honest. Deep breath, here it goes: I have strong reservations that this story will never be finished; my inspiration has completely vanished and I've lost the voice of this character, and my style has changed so dramatically that editing what I have written mostly makes me cringe, not smile. So I pose this hypothetical question to you: would you rather I only post finished chapters (like how updates usually go, even though inspiration may never strike and posts beyond Fourteen may never come), or would you prefer I post as much as I can and then post a summary of how the fic ends (so it's rough and point-form format, but you get a synopsis of the story)? I would love to hear your opinions in PMs or reviews.

Your kind, gorgeous, encouraging words have helped me through so much, and I thank you all for bearing with my disappointing absence of updates. It's wonderful to hear from those who are still on board with the 'ship, and I feel so bad for my passion having ebbed with this fic. Please forgive me, darlings, I hope I am wrong in this regard.

Hope all is well with you and yours,

Leika