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“A-choo!”
Ichigo mutters a quiet apology under his breath when his loud sneeze startles a flock of Swablu nesting high up in the trees. Their indignant squawks are loud enough to make Ichigo wince, wondering if they used Hyper Voice on him. He side-steps just in time to avoid a heavy pile of snow falling from the branches above. For a group of cute, cuddly creatures with fluffy white clouds for wings, they can be vicious indeed.
As they fly overhead, Ichigo scowls, resisting the urge to shiver as he pulls up the collars of his heavy coat, tugging at the thick scarf wound around his neck to make sure it covers every inch of skin on his neck. The matching hat and gloves set that he wears with it are made from 100% genuine Lopunny fur and a gift from Yuzu. Thank Arceus for his sister’s foresight in making sure he was dressed appropriately for the weather!
His teeth chatter from the cold and he thinks he tastes blood from how dry his lips are. He has never experienced cold like this before. He is a long way from home; from Hoenn and its sandy beaches, where humidity clings uncomfortably like a shroud over naked skin as they make their way across rainforest with foliage so dense that sunlight struggles to pass through.
Now, he is surrounded by evergreen pine trees that surge upwards to the skies, towering over him. Snow and icicles hang from the branches. Ichigo swears that he can see and hear the quick scurry of footsteps from wild Pokémon in his immediate vicinity, but to his relief, none of them seems to be the confrontational, territorial type; or maybe they are just shy.
The closest that he came to confrontation of any sort was when his sneeze startled the nearby flock of Swablu. It suits Ichigo just fine. He is more than happy to pass through these grounds without initiating any battles. He desperately wants to be out of this miserable weather. The thought of a hot meal and a roof over his head sustains him, propelling him forward.
Ichigo looks behind him, casting his eyes on the deep-set of footprints imprinted on the virgin snow. In the distance, he sees the fabled mountain ridge of Mount Coronet, looming imperiously with its white-capped snow peaks at a daunting height. He has come a long way, but he fears that he has longer to go. He shoves his gloved hands deep into his coat pockets. Even with a pair of thick woollen socks and leather boots, he swears his toes have gone numb.
Puffs of white smoke cloud the air as he sighs, cursing inwardly at his luck. The frozen icy tundra of Sinnoh will be the death of him.
“’Join the exchange scheme! It’ll be fun!’ HAH!” Ichigo scoffs, kicking the snow beneath his feet as he trudges on sullenly. He should have known that anything that Old Goat Chin signed him up for is bound to end in disaster, one way or another.
As Gym Leader in Lavaridge Town, things have been difficult after his right hand man, Chad left to open up his own Pokémon Day Care center. Ichigo is happy for the guy. Despite his size, Chad is a gentle soul with an even gentler touch. The baby Pokémon flock to him whenever he is around, so really Ichigo is glad that his best friend found his calling and had the guts to pursue it. He reckons that Chad can give any Nurse Joy a run for her money if he decides to branch out and become a Doctor.
Nonetheless, his departure left the crew at Lavaridge Gym thin on the ground and short-staffed. The steam from the hot spring and Ichigo’s waspish temper are a terrible and volatile mix.
Ichigo would tell you that he is a victim of mutiny, that his crew conspired against him behind his back, but in reality, everyone has just about had it with him. His scowling face is hardly the most endearing feature of the Gym and without Chad there to mellow him out, Ichigo’s curt responses and ruthless takedown of the trainers at his Gym have earned him a reputation for being difficult.
It certainly does not help that fire-type Pokémon love to fight and his Pokémon are more than happy to feed off his aggression, annihilating the challengers that they face in the ring within seconds. The experience was enough to traumatize a few trainers and a slew of complaints soon followed. To the crew at Lavaridge Gym at least, the last straw came when their Gym leader made Yuzu’s Togepi cry with a glare that was not even directed at her!
Enough was enough and Ichigo had crossed the most sacred line that there was.
And thus, poor Ichigo was outplayed and out-voted, unknowingly volunteered for an exchange programme- first of its kind between Gym Leaders of neighbouring regions to foster and facilitate good relationships, until one unspectacular balmy morning when he was mercilessly dragged out of bed, clothed, fed, bound and gagged (in that order) before his merry crew of trainers, his sisters and father in tow, dropped him off at the harbor at Lilycove City with nary a tear in their eyes. No amount of scowling, cajoling, or begging for that matter, on Ichigo’s part, would change their minds.
“It’s for your own good, Son!” Isshin told him cheerfully as he threw Ichigo’s bags unceremoniously onto the boat. “A change of scenery would do you good. Take your mind off things. You need it.”
“It’s only going to be for three months,” Yuzu said as she cradled her Togepi to her chest, beaming so brightly that it made Ichigo’s eyes hurt. “You’ll be back before you know it!”
“We've got you covered!” Karin and Tatsuki were quick to reassure him. They would make sure that the Gym is still standing when he comes back. Between Karin’s Arcanine and Flareon, and Tatsuki’s fierce Pyroar, Ichigo had no doubt that the Gym at least was in safe hands.
The same cannot be said for him as he is all but cast out to sea with only basic food provisions, a few changes of clothes and his Pokémon for company. He thought his ordeal ended when the ship docked at Sunyshore City, but the fair-haired woman who welcomed him on his arrival to the pier laughed and said that he had miles to go still.
His journey has only just begun. Upon arrival, he needed to go north to some godforsaken hellhole that is covered all year round in snow. Funny how none of his trainers mentioned that when they were shipping him off, flailing limbs and all, at Lilycove City!
A strong gust of wind hits him from the back and nearly blows right through him. Ichigo loses his balance, plopping rather ungracefully onto the ground. He groans, resisting the urge to swear as he pulls himself back up, dusting the fallen snow off his body.
He eyes two of the Poké Balls clipped to his belt. After a few minutes of contemplation, he gives up on the idea altogether, shoulders slumping in defeat as he sighs loudly.
He is sorely tempted to fly to Snowpoint City on the back of his Charizard, Tensa, but he has been warned against it by the locals. The weather in this part of the region is highly unpredictable. The last thing he wants is for Tensa to crash into the mountain face of Mount Coronet, blighted by a sudden squall.
As for Zangetsu-
Ichigo snorts. His Houndoom would not be impressed. The Pokémon hates the cold as much as he hates the damp. Knowing his luck, he would probably get a face full of sulfurous flame for his efforts, or if Zangetsu is in a snippier mood than normal, a sharp nip to his wrist before he returns to his Poké Ball.
There is nowhere to go but to move forward, Ichigo tells himself as he wraps his furry scarf tighter around his neck. He forces himself to keep moving. He hoists the straps of his backpack further up his shoulders with a determined glint in his eyes. The quicker he is out of the cold, the better.
He easily loses track of time, wondering if he was going around in circles at some point until he spots the lake.
The placid waters of Lake Acuity gleam in sapphire blue; a near-perfect mirror image of the wispy white clouds and the blue sky above him. Frost and ice have settled around the edges of it, but he doubts that a lake this vast can ever be frozen in its entirety. At the center of the lake, he is told, is an island that houses the guardian of the lake- a mystical Pokémon. Ichigo would very much like to see it for himself if the Pokémon deems him worthy.
Ichigo’s fists clench inside his pockets. It is a good sign. Snowpoint City cannot be that much further now.
He wanders over to the edges of the lake, stopping when he sees the brown fur coat of a Teddiursa hovering nearby. He feels a chill running down his spine at the sight of it. Ichigo tries to back away slowly, eager to avoid any confrontation. Teddiursa may look cute and cuddly, but any trainer worth his salt knows to steer clear because mama bear is never too far away.
Teddiursa! Bear Pokémon. If it finds honey, its crescent mark glows. It always-
His Pokédex pings suddenly from the depths of his pocket, rambling facts about the Pokémon before Ichigo can turn it off. The shrill voice makes Ichigo jump and Teddiursa gives a surprised yelp at the noise. Black beady eyes widen at the sight of Ichigo. It approaches Ichigo boldly, raising itself up to walk on its hind legs while waving its front paws threateningly, probably in an attempt to make itself look bigger to scare Ichigo off.
Ichigo swears angrily, slowly backing away with every step that Teddiursa takes towards him. Sentimental reasons be damned!
He knew he should have listened to Karin when she told him to replace the stupid Pokédex!
His Pokédex is a relic from his younger years when he was still collecting Gym badges in Hoenn. Nearly a decade of use later, it has seen better days. A cracked screen and distorted voice are the least of its problems. The damn thing is also prone to coming to life suddenly, making sporadic announcements at the most inopportune moments. If Ichigo doesn’t know any better, he’d say that his Pokédex is possessed by some sort of wayward spirit, determined to make his life hell for its own amusement.
It does not take long for reinforcements to arrive. Ichigo gulps as a hulking shadow casts itself over him. There is a grizzly Ursaring snarling at him from behind, teeth bared and nose twitching as it lumbers towards him.
Ichigo does not give Ursaring a chance to pounce. He bolts, making a beeline for the forest up ahead, hoping to lose the bear Pokémon as he zigzags under the trees.
As he makes his escape however, Ichigo slips on the ice near the edge of the lake. He takes a tumble, falling headfirst onto the snow. The cold makes him sluggish, but Ichigo’s instincts as a trainer are long-ingrained. He reaches for his belt, his eyes widening in panic when he realizes that his Poké Balls are missing. They must have jostled free from the belt when he fell.
Ichigo cannot believe his luck. He watches helplessly as the Poké Balls roll further away from him. His ankle throbs and he struggles to get up. Undeterred, he gets on his hands and knees, determined to crawl to them if he has to. Broken ankle or not, there will be more time to worry about that later, when, or rather, if, he survives the attack.
With his arms extended, Ichigo tries to swipe at the Poké Ball closest to him but it remains just out of reach, no matter how hard he tries. Ichigo chances a look behind him, noting the approaching Ursaring with sinking dread.
He shudders, feeling like his blood has turned to ice. His heart thunders. Time seems to come to a complete standstill as his imminent demise looms ever closer with each passing breath.
Granted that there are worse deaths to be had, being mauled to death by an Ursaring seems a pretty horrible way to go. Ichigo is more than a little embarrassed at the idea of his body being found like this: Poké Balls scattered uselessly around his desecrated corpse as unsuspecting hikers or heck, even Pokémon trainers, stumble upon his remains on route to Snowpoint City. His death would serve as a cautionary tale for all Pokémon trainers no doubt: make sure you keep your Poké Balls on you at all times when you’re out there adventuring.
Ichigo could kick himself for the stupid mistake that is about to cost him his life.
While he ponders over the morbid details of his would-be death, out of the corner of his eyes, he sees a flicker of icy blue. With gritted teeth, Ichigo pushes himself up, flipping onto his back to see the backside of a Glaceon facing him. It takes a protective stance over him, shielding Ichigo as its body crouches low and flat to the snowy ground with raised haunches.
The flaps that dangle from the side of its face sway like ribbons in the wind. Its teal-tinged tail swishes in the air, long pointed ears flattened as it sizes up Ursaring, undaunted at the slightest by the size difference between them. Glaceon may be tiny, but it is no less powerful as it opens its mouth, letting loose a powerful blast of cold air.
Ichigo winces at the sudden chill. The blizzard summoned is a flurry of snow and ice in brilliant white, leaving the bottom half of Ursaring encased in solid ice at the end of the attack. Frozen, the bear Pokémon is forced to pause in its rampage. Its beady eyes focus on the tiny Glaceon in front of it, noting the determined gleam in its eyes.
Ursaring shakes its head, deciding that it does not want Glaceon as an enemy. With a mighty roar, Ursaring breaks free from the icy prison, shooting Ichigo and Glaceon a dirty look before scampering away in the opposite direction.
Ichigo heaves a heavy sigh. He thought he was a goner. He turns to see Glaceon peering at him with its big blue eyes, curiosity evident as it cocks its head from side to side, tail flicking in the air. It sniffs at Ichigo’s outstretched hand, surprising Ichigo with its forwardness when it climbs into his lap. It curls its tail around itself, settling on Ichigo’s lap with a soft chirp.
“Thanks for the rescue,” Ichigo says. Glaceon welcomes his touch, leaning into his hand when Ichigo scratches it behind the ears. It trills happily at the ministrations, head-bunting Ichigo’s hand for attention when he stops.
Ichigo bites back a laugh, resisting the urge to coo at how well-behaved the Pokémon is. Glaceon’s fur is soft and silky. Its friendly manner and all-too trusting demeanour with a stranger suggests that it is well-socialized and familiar with human interaction. It must belong to someone.
“What are you doing out here by yourself? Where’s your trainer, huh?”
Glaceon chirps in response. It leaps away, dark eyes peering with concern as Ichigo straightens.
Ichigo hisses in pain, setting his foot gingerly on the ground. He is no good to anyone if he just sits around waiting to be rescued. His ankle is not broken, but it is definitely going to need some medical attention.
“C’mon,” he calls out to Glaceon. “Let’s get out of here and go look for your trainer. I’m sure they’re here somewhere.”
When they find Glaceon’s trainer, Ichigo has half a mind to give them a stern talking-to. Even if they didn’t like to keep their Pokémon inside the Poké Ball, it is still not a valid excuse to have them roaming free and out of sight. Their Glaceon is too trusting and friendly, which of course is no fault of their own, but kidnappers and no-gooders could have easily lured it away with treats and berries. They are just lucky that it is Ichigo that Glaceon has come across today.
Grimacing, Ichigo hobbles towards one of his fallen Poké Balls, doing his best to avoid putting pressure onto his injured foot. Glaceon follows closely by, curious to see what the human is going to do.
With much difficulty, Ichigo bends at his knees, finally succeeding in retrieving the Poké Ball closest to him. He fidgets with it, clipping it back onto his belt, tugging at it to make sure it is fastened securely before he casts his eyes back to the snowy ground, determined to finish the task.
“Ah!” Ichigo screams, his arms flailing for support when he unexpectedly misses his step. Glaceon gives a concerned yip at the loud cry while Ichigo shuts his eyes, bracing himself for impact.
Yet to his surprise, he does not crash and fall back onto icy snow. There is instead a pair of hands wrapped around his body, keeping him standing, albeit at a slanted angle. It saves him from falling onto the snow and for that, Ichigo is immensely grateful.
“Phew! That was close! Are you ok?”
The newcomer’s voice is slightly muffled against his coat. Ichigo simply nods as he breathes through his mouth, trying to still his terse heartbeat after the adrenaline rush. He stares at the glove-clad hands wrapped around him, puzzled by the size of them. He brings up his own hands for comparison and frowns, realizing that it is nearly half the size of his. They look small enough to be a child’s; maybe a freakishly stronger than average child, but a child nonetheless.
His frown deepens. He has a bone to pick with the good people of Snowpoint City. First Glaceon, now a child? What sort of irresponsible adults live in these parts; to allow children and Pokémon to wander free without supervision?
Filing that thought away for the future, he half-turns to thank the good Samaritan only to stammer and blush when he nearly kisses the woman standing behind him.
Oh!
The tips of his ear grow hot, realizing his mistake. So not a child then, but a petite woman with an astonishingly strong grip.
He gulps. She is standing much too close. The two of them are pressed cheek to cheek against each other. From this angle, Ichigo can see the individual strands of her dark sooty eyelashes. When she exhales, warm puffs of air fan his cheeks, tickling him.
“H-Hi?”
The nameless woman laughs, shaking her head. Her voice is a husky alto and Ichigo thinks he has never heard anything lovelier.
“Well hello to you too,” she says to Ichigo, her lips twitching into a soft smile. “My name is Rukia Kuchiki. This little one is Shirayuki. You must be Ichigo Kurosaki.”
At the mention of her name, Glaceon perks up, chirping and trilling cheerfully at Rukia. She circles Rukia’s feet, happy to see her trainer before sauntering over to shower the same affection on Ichigo, nudging and rubbing her body against Ichigo’s leg.
Rukia quirks an eyebrow at her Pokémon’s antic, amused by the friendly display. “Shirayuki must like you a lot. She isn’t normally this friendly with strangers.”
Ichigo does not fight the woman when she grabs his arm, draping it over her shoulders to better support him. As she moves to stand beside him, Ichigo gets a better look at her.
The blue of her coat catches his eyes first. The fur-lined coat she has on is cinched at the waist and hemmed right at her knees. Raven-black hair peek under her matching fur-lined ushanka hat, cropped short to frame her heart-shaped face. Ichigo smiles despite the throbbing pain at his ankle. The ear flaps at the sides of her hat remind him of the ribbon-like extensions under Glaceon’s ears.
Her violet eyes shine with kindness as they blink at him, motioning for him to use her as his clutch and support. Ichigo swallows thickly. She must be an angel.
“M-My name,” Ichigo licks his dry lips. “H-How did you know my name?”
Rukia laughs and if Ichigo was not smitten before, he is definitely now; captivated by her low, throaty chuckles, the way her eyes crinkle with laughter and the soft curve of her apple cheeks. Ichigo’s cheeks pink when he realizes that he is staring.
“I’ve been expecting you,” Rukia tells him. “Ran told me that you left Celestial Town a few days ago. It does not normally take that long to reach Snowpoint City past Celestial Town. I was worried that you got lost in the surrounding forest, so I came looking. Looks like Shirayuki got to you first.”
Shirayuki puffs up her chest, preening at the mention, more so when Rukia promises her a treat when they get indoors. Her little trills of happiness are infectious. Ichigo even swears that his ankle feels better.
When he tries to stand on his own however, the pain surges right through him and he nearly sends them both crashing into the snow. Rukia gives him an unimpressed look and Ichigo rubs at the back of his nape sheepishly, mumbling his apology.
Sighing, Rukia nudges Ichigo, pressing his arm firmly over her shoulders before directing them towards a stray Poké Ball.
“Let’s finish picking up your Poké Balls then we can head back to the Gym and get that ankle looked at.”
.
“Let me get this straight: you see an Ursaring and instead of calling out one of your Pokémon to battle, you decide to run away?” The red-haired man sitting across the table from Ichigo shakes his head, guffawing as he slams his mug against the table. “Are you really a Gym Leader?”
Ichigo’s face grows hot. He swears even Zangetsu looks up from his food bowl at that, smirking at him. Once they are out of the snow, his Houndoom is more than eager to come out from his Poké Ball. It is just slightly past noon and Ichigo can tell that Zangetsu is getting hungry. Zangetsu is a menace to society; has been a rambunctious handful ever since Ichigo got him as a Houndour pup, but a hungry Zangetsu is a grouchy Houndoom with destructive powers that know no bounds. While they are living under the roof of someone else, Ichigo desperately wants him to be on his best behavior or they just might find themselves living on the streets.
Traitor, Ichigo thinks as Zangetsu returns his attention back to his food, barely batting an eye at Ichigo’s swollen ankle or his current predicament. Ichigo scowls viciously at the man.
“The next time you come face to face with one, remind me to look the other way!”
Renji’s shit-eating grin just grows, practically stretching from ear to ear at Ichigo’s lame comeback. As the Veilstone Gym Leader, Renji specializes in fighting-type Pokémon. He looks the part; what with his thick burly muscles and the impressive collection of tribal tattoos decorating his body. The bold thick lines streaked across his forehead stands out against his long red hair that he keeps tied in a knot. He is dressed in a fitted black sleeveless top and shorts, seemingly unaffected by the cold.
Ichigo hopes the man catches his death in his ridiculous get-up. Much like how Zangetsu growled at Renji’s fiery Infernape when it marched into the kitchen behind him- at least until Renji had the sense to return his Infernape back to his Poké Ball- Ichigo does not think much of the man, finding him unpleasant to say the least. The fact that he seems to know Rukia well enough to barge through the front door unannounced, subsequently inviting himself into the kitchen and helping himself to the food unprompted, is immaterial.
As far as guests go, Renji is horrible with manners befitting an ape; all puns intended.
Ichigo laughs when Rukia creeps up behind the burly man, smacking Renji at the back of his head. It wipes the smirk clean off his face. Renji yowls from the sudden burst of pain, rubbing the sore spot.
“Rukia, what gives?”
“Stop antagonizing my guest, Renji,” Rukia says, frowning at Renji’s strange choice of clothing when she finally gets a good look at it. Renji can be hotheaded and a little silly at times, but she would think that he had more sense than to come wandering into Snowpoint City dressed like that. It must be a manly pride thing. She does not pretend to understand it, but if Renji wants to freeze to death out there, he is more than welcome to.
“Why are you even here, Renji? Shouldn’t you be at your own Gym?” Rukia folds her arms, tilting her face at him, drawling sarcastically. “Are you really a Gym Leader?”
Ichigo snickers as Renji’s face flushes into a shade of scarlet remarkably similar to his hair.
“Well, Taichou said—”
“Nii-sama needs to stop worrying. I’m a Gym Leader now. He knows that I can take care of myself,” Rukia cuts him off with a glare. “The same goes for you.”
Renji makes a face. Sensing he was not going anywhere with Rukia, he turns to Ichigo instead. Eyebrows furrowed, Renji cracks his knuckles loudly, putting on his deadliest glare and scariest face as he tilts his head to look down at Ichigo.
“Now you look here, you punk!” Renji grouses, sitting up straight and slamming his hands flat against the table. “Cuz I’ve got my eyes on you, so don’t you dare try any funny business while you’re living here! I’m warning you—”
The intimidating effect is negated by the loud squeak he gives when Rukia slaps his hand away, annoyed at how careless and rough he is with her furniture and the mess he made on the table. Renji has been helping himself to the cookies, greedily chomping away while Rukia is away, tending to other businesses in her Gym. Needless to say, the trail of cookie crumbs all over the table is his doing.
Rukia clicks her tongue, deftly wrestling the now half-empty cookie jar away from Renji, slapping the lid on it loudly as she hisses. “Ichigo is a gentleman. Shirayuki actually likes him, which is a lot more than what I can say for you. Now go before I tell Nii-sama that you’ve been slacking!”
Renji puts both his hands up, shuffling towards the door under Rukia’s watchful gaze. “Alright, woman! I swear you’re worse than Taichou sometimes. I’ll see myself out.”
The door opens and slams shut minutes later with a loud bang that rattles the windows. Rukia grimaces, muttering angrily under her breath about how Renji is going to wreck her door, pulling it straight off its hinges, one of these days.
Through the kitchen window, Ichigo sees the redhead accompanied by Rillaboom as they leave the snowy city behind them. Renji’s red hair stands out against the green leafy bushes that trail from the giant Pokémon’s head before spreading across its back. They say that Pokémon take after their trainers, but it seems, to Ichigo at least, the opposite is also true.
“Sorry about Renji.” Rukia’s smile is apologetic as she pours Ichigo a cup of tea after clearing up the trail of crumbs from the table. “He means well. He and Nii-sama really worry about me. They’re nervous about the idea of you living here in the Gym with me. Think that you might take advantage of me or something.”
Ichigo nearly chokes on the mouthful of tea he just had. It burns his tongue, but he quickly blinks away his tears; adamant that he will do nothing of the sort.
“Oh I know you won’t,” Rukia replies blithely. “Shirayuki is a good judge of character and she likes you. I trust her. ‘Sides, I can take you on.” The challenging tilt of her chin and the playful gleam in her eyes show as she leans in across the table. “Even if ice has a double weakness against fire, I won’t go down that easily.”
Ichigo clears his throat, looking pointedly away from Rukia as he tries to change the subject. “Why does Renji call your brother Taichou? Is he a Gym leader too?”
“Ah, that’s because my brother is a team leader of sorts,” Rukia explains. “Part of his role is to make sure that Gym Leaders follow the rules and perform their duties, while playing nice with each other.”
Ichigo frowns. The Hoenn Gym Leaders are more or less self-regulated. Though the League does oversee their appointment to a certain degree, it is more than happy to leave them be as long as things run smoothly. It does however, Ichigo thinks ruefully, take claims of misconduct and complaints quite seriously.
“Is this some sort of ceremonial role unique to Sinnoh?”
“Not exactly. My brother is Byakuya Kuchiki.”
Surprisingly, the name does in fact, ring a bell, though Ichigo cannot quite recall where, when or really how he came across the name. He maintains that he has never been good with names or faces.
Rukia sighs, her lips curling in bemusement at the blank look on Ichigo’s face. “The current Champion of the Sinnoh League? I’m sure you’ve heard about him before.”
So that’s why Ichigo thought the name sounded familiar. He has heard of Byakuya Kuchiki, but not in the way that most would associate with the Champion of the Sinnoh League. Yuzu is determined to have a Sawsbuck of her own after seeing the Champion’s Spring form Sawsbuck on the big screen; wouldn’t stop talking about how she is going to go to Unova to catch a Deerling of her own.
Ichigo frowns, resisting the urge to scratch his head. Come to think of it: who is the current Champion of the Hoenn League?
Ichigo decides to leave the matter for now, choosing instead to focus on the conversation with Rukia. He still has no idea what Isshin has signed him up for. The Inter-Region Pokémon Gym Leader Exchange for Development and Growth Scheme sounds awfully grand and Ichigo knows nothing about it, mainly because he has only just found out about it. He’d hate to have unknowingly brought shame to the entire Hoenn region in his ignorance.
“Um… So what do I need to do?”
Rukia arches an eyebrow. “What do you mean? I thought you were briefed on the way here.”
“Not exactly.” Ichigo resists the urge to fidget. “I just thought I was here to study and learn from you, take in the local culture while I’m at it, like a cultural exchange of some sort.”
“I see,” Rukia hums, the expression on her face turns serious as she folds her hands. “Well, let’s start over then: you’re here to help my challengers win.”
“W-What?”
“My challengers need a win.” Rukia sighs. “No one has managed to get the Icicle Badge from Snowpoint Gym in the last eight months. The League thinks that we need input from a fire-type specialist, what with the double weakness and all, to break my winning streak.”
Ichigo shakes his head, annoyed. “So I need to figure out how you’ve been so good at your job and stop it?”
At the careless shrug at Rukia gives, Ichigo feels his eyes twitching. He has never heard of such a thing. The scheme is a punishment for Gym Leaders who are doing their job well? They can’t do that!
“This is bull—”
Oh!
Rukia chuckles at the stupefied look on his face. He must have finally realized. “When’s the last time someone won against you?”
“11 months.” He purses his lips; still in denial. “But what gives? I can’t imagine we’ve caused some massive problem in the system just by doing our jobs. It’s what we’re being paid to do, isn’t it?”
“Funny you should say that. Where do you think the money for building maintenance comes from?” Rukia asks. “Or the Gym Leader’s monthly stipend? The money that you then spend on your staff and Pokémon?
A huge chunk of it comes from the money that challengers pay to enter the League for a chance to beat the big boss and claim the Champion title for themselves. Needless to say that can only come from beating the Gym Leaders and getting the respective badges, so if they don’t win against you, how are they going to advance to the preliminaries and enter the battle?”
She sighs. “More importantly, how is the League supposed to generate revenue?”
Ichigo slumps over in defeat. Shoulders hunched, he resists the urge to face-palm. He sees it now. He has not been volunteered for the scheme, so much as he has been chosen for it. Heck, Isshin and the others probably couldn’t wait to get rid of him!
The scheme is a stupid Hail Mary attempt to resolve the individual region’s problem by throwing the trouble-makers together; a ‘wait-and-see’ approach from the higher-ups. Ichigo cannot honestly say that he expected anything different from them.
Rukia recognizes that look on Ichigo’s face well. The look of resignation and impending doom is one that she has been practising ever since she knew that about the exchange programme. She feels sorry for Ichigo, for only finding out about this now. It must come as a shock to him.
Noisy rumbling from Rukia’s stomach cuts through the terse silence. It jolts Ichigo out of his shock, causing him to chuckle.
Rukia blushes. She makes a move to get up, pushing her chair back noisily. “I’ll go make lunch.”
“Just for today,” Ichigo tells her. “I’ll go to the Pokémon Center after lunch and see if there’s a Blissey there who’d be kind enough to heal me. I’ll take over the cooking and cleaning duties after this.”
Rukia looks at him from across the kitchen island as she finishes fastening her apron. While she is grateful for the offer, she is not so sure about Ichigo’s culinary skills. The last time Renji tried to make something, he almost set her kitchen on fire.
“You don’t have to.”
“No, I insist,” Ichigo tells her. “I’ll cook while I’m here and do my share of the household chores. Least I can do with you offering me lodging and tolerating that one over there.”
Ichigo jerks his thumb at Zangetsu, who has finished his meal and is currently lazing by Ichigo’s feet. Zangetsu gives a loud yawn, languidly stretching before giving Ichigo a bored look. Seconds later, he flops back onto the floor, eyes shut and ready for a nap.
Ichigo sighs, giving him a look of fond exasperation. A trainer should not have favorites. It is bad form. Ichigo cherishes all his Pokémon equally, but his bonds with his Charizard and Houndoom are much stronger than his bond with the other Pokémon on his team. They are his oldest friends and closest companions.
Tensa is cool and well-behaved, unique with his blue and black scales; unlike any Charizard that Ichigo knows. With his size, Ichigo prefers to keep him in his Poké Ball, only letting him out every now and then so the Pokémon can stretch his wings.
The same cannot be said for his Houndoom. Zangetsu is a cranky old man disguised as a snarky Houndoom and his dislike to being cooped up inside his Poké Ball is second only to his dislike of the cold. With his propensity for biting and nipping, even as a pup, Ichigo wondered if he was really a Poochyena in disguise. He is spoilt and a bit of a bully with the other Pokémon, easily intimidating them with his size and curved horns.
Ichigo tries his best to rein in the more combative and destructive habits, but Zangetsu’s independent streak remains strong, selective in the instructions that he chooses to obey; though the latter seems to be a common trait among the species.
Shirayuki chooses to strut into the kitchen at that very moment. She stops in front of Zangetsu, regarding the latter with blue guileless eyes, before bowing her head and arching her back. She chirps, rousing the other Pokémon from sleep as she invites him to play.
Zangetsu’s eyelids flutter open at the noise, crimson red eyes darting to Shirayuki. He pushes himself up, shifting closer to her. He presses the tip of his wet nose against her, sniffing. He finds her ear flaps interesting, nearly knocking her over when he nudges a little too forcefully against her cheeks in an attempt to investigate them.
Shirayuki does not take too kindly to the sudden invasion of space. She hisses, shaking her head and batting Zangetsu’s snout with her paw.
Ichigo frowns, wary that Zangetsu is getting too rough and hurting Shirayuki. “Oi, Zan! Knock it off! No rough-housing!”
When Zangetsu doesn’t heed his command, choosing instead to bite down on the ear flap closest to him, tugging at it experimentally, Ichigo leaps to his feet, uncaring of his injured ankle; ready to physically separate the two Pokémon.
He forgets, of course that Shirayuki is a Gym Leader’s companion. She is hardly helpless and the proud creature does not suffer fools. Warning shots have been fired. Her eyes narrow at Zangetsu’s incessant nudging, deciding that she has had enough. She huffs, releasing a powerful blast of cold air at Zangetsu.
Zangetsu gives a loud yelp, surprised by the sudden chill. A ring of ice circles his snout, clamping his jaw shut. He halts in his exploration, hastily withdrawing from Shirayuki. His nostrils flare, dark smoke rising from them. He growls, pawing at the icy muzzle, trying his best to pry it off.
After numerous unsuccessful attempts, he turns to Ichigo for help. He plops down next to Ichigo, laying his head on Ichigo’s knee, nudging at his hand when Ichigo does not respond immediately. Zangetsu whines, tilting his head lower, doing his best to make his eyes appear round and big.
‘Look at what the horrible Glaceon did! Feel sorry for me! NOW!’.
Ichigo snorts, shaking his head. “You started it. I told you to stop, but you didn’t listen.”
Ichigo boops him on the nose, gleeful that Houndoom cannot retaliate, though the muzzle does not stop the Pokémon from glaring daggers. Still whining, Zangetsu turns his gaze to Shirayuki, who has now gained higher ground, perching herself on the kitchen island beside Rukia. Her tail dangles off the edge, swishing carelessly in the air. Feeling Zangestu’s eyes on her, she turns her cute little button nose up in the air, giving him the cold shoulder treatment.
Realizing that he is not going to get any help, or sympathy for that matter, Zangetsu drops his act, huffing as he sulks under the table. A flash of red light beams as he returns to the comforts of his Poké Ball to lick his wounds in quiet solitude.
“Good girl!”
Rukia scratches Shirayuki under the chin before fishing a Poffin out of a mason jar from kitchen cabinets for her. Shirayuki finishes her treat in two quick bites, chirping for more as she nuzzles her face against Rukia’s hand.
“See, Ichigo?” Rukia smiles, triumphant and proud. Shirayuki may be small and an ice-type Pokémon, but it does not mean that she is to be underestimated. Even if she faces a Houndoom, she is not one to cower and run away with her tail tucked between her legs.
“We take care of ourselves just fine.”
.
Three weeks into his stay at Snowpoint City, Ichigo finally gets the chance to experience a blizzard. The snowstorm seems to last the whole week. Strong gusts of wind howl and bellow, making the whole building shake and sway with them inside; while outside, as far as the eye can see, everything is blanketed under a heavy blanket of white.
No Pokémon trainer in the right state of mind would venture into Snowpoint City, let alone challenge the local Gym Leader, in this weather. Naturally, that meant that his presence isn’t needed and while Rukia may busy herself organizing the daily running of her Gym, Ichigo does not have the same luxury.
Ichigo currently has two heavy layers on, sitting in the kitchen while he nurses a cup of warm tea. Ichigo sighs for the umpteenth time this morning. A second later, Zangetsu gives a low-pitched whine next to him. Ichigo yawns, absentmindedly petting Zangetsu. They are both getting a little stir crazy from being cooped up indoors because of the bad weather.
Glancing at Zangetsu, Ichigo’s lips twitch upwards. No matter how many times he sees it, the sight of his fearsome Houndoom wrapped in a green knitted vest with tiny white flowers sewn on the sides, never fails to make him chuckle.
Zangetsu didn’t like the look of the ugly vest, his snout wrinkling with distaste the first time Rukia brought it out from storage; refusing to even have it near him until Ichigo pointed out he was turning into Cubchoo, sniffling and snotty from the cold. No one, least of all his new Pokémon friends, would find him cool. Zangetsu’s vanity was somewhat mollified with that and as the temperature continued to drop, the vest is now a permanent fixture on him, the opening of it just slightly below the skull-shaped pendant at the center of his chest.
Sipping his tea slowly, Ichigo does a double take when Rukia strolls in with her bright eyes and rosy cheeks. He wonders bemusedly how one can be so full of life and out of breath in equal measures.
Rukia’s grin is fierce despite her heaving chest as she leans against the table, trying to compose herself. She rushed into the house with such a hurry that she is still wearing her winter coat and chunky boots. A layer of snow remains peppered on her hood. Some of it had already begun to melt with her indoors, but Ichigo can still see some powdered flakes clinging to her eyelashes and cheeks. Shirayuki is right behind her, likewise covered in snow and not the slightest bit uncomfortable.
“Let’s go catch a Pokémon!”
Ichigo blinks at the sudden announcement. Zangetsu gives a disgusted grunt. “In this weather?”
“Why not?” Rukia challenges. “The sky’s all cleared up now. Plus, you’ve been here for three weeks and you still haven’t caught any Pokémon or seen any of the local sights. What sort of host would I be if I just kept you cooped up here at the Gym all day?”
“I’m a homebody really,” replied Ichigo dryly, frowning at the snow that he can see gathering by the window sill. Rukia may say otherwise, but really the weather today does not seem all that much different from the day before. “I’ll pass.”
Zangetsu makes a noise next to him, marking his agreement on the subject.
Rukia would not be deterred, ignoring his protests as she marches over to him. She tugs him by his hand, pulling him up from his seat, pressing his coat and boots into his arms until he is fully dressed and standing right at the door with her.
“Don’t I get a say on the matter?” Ichigo asks incredulously as he puts on his gloves. “And how come Zangetsu gets to stay indoors?”
Rukia scoffs, standing on her tiptoes and urging Ichigo to bend slightly so she can loop his scarf around his neck. “I can only deal with one sulky grouch at a time. I’ll take you over your Houndoom any day.”
“Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?”
The smirk that curls on Ichigo’s lips is instinctive. It widens when Rukia rolls her eyes good-naturedly at him. She does not deign to reply as she keeps her head bowed, knotting the scarf tighter around Ichigo’s neck. Ichigo casts his gaze downward, frowning at the sudden lull in conversation.
His Adam’s apple bobs. His heart racing, his palms are suddenly clammy when Rukia’s body warmth draws closer against his. Her icy fingertips brush against the skin on his neck, making him shudder. Rukia smells of pine and the crisp winter air. He hadn’t realized how close they are to each other, or that his arms are poised, set at the perfect height to wrap around her waist.
Rukia is strong. She builds a stronghold in the most inhospitable of places and holds court like she is born to rule; so self-sufficient, independent, practically a one-man team with the way she runs things that Ichigo finds it a miracle that she has not burned herself out, yet Ichigo cannot help but wonder, does the Snow Queen ever get lonely in her frozen wonderland?
Ichigo shuts his eyes—
“AAHHHHHH!”
With giving him any warning, Rukia pushes him out the door. Ichigo falls flat onto the snow with a loud scream. He shoots up immediately from the ground, yelling about the frigid temperature and how she was crazy for thinking this is a good idea.
Rukia nearly doubles over laughing, behind him. If only he could see the look on his face! She nimbly dodges, skipping out of his reach as she runs towards the lakefront.
“Race you to the lake!”
.
It stopped snowing by the time he reached the lake, but neither Rukia nor Shirayuki is anywhere to be seen.
Ichigo frowns, his eyes scanning the horizon for a hint of blue, watching out for any sign of the pair. Thinking that they must have wandered into the forest surrounding the lake, he follows suit, taking slow, measured steps in the three-inch snow, careful to avoid any ice.
It does not take him that long to find company as a Froslass appears before him. Her ice crystal horns gleam in the low lights. If Ichigo feels a chill running up his spine when he locks gaze with her icy blue eyes, he tells himself that it is just his body reacting to the drop in temperature.
“Have you seen a Pokémon trainer and a Glaceon heading this way?”
Froslass nods, her lips curving into a smile. She motions for Ichigo to follow her as she takes him down a small winding path between two bare trees, their empty branches swaying eerily when a passing breeze billows.
Ichigo chides himself for reading too much into the things. It is just the wind, he tells himself as he trails after the Pokémon, going deeper into the forest.
The wind begins to pick up just as Froslass brings him to a cabin. A warm glow seems to shine from inside the wooden building. Ichigo thinks he can smell fresh bread, hot off the oven wafting through a small gap in the window.
Ichigo gulps, practically salivating at the thought of hot food and shelter from the rapidly worsening weather. “Are they in here?”
Froslass hums yet again and Ichigo takes it as an affirmative, pushing the door open.
A strange spell seems to befall him as he passes the threshold. He feels weak and tired. The room is spinning. He leans against the wall, trying to steady himself; only to withdraw his hand, hissing at how cold it feels. When he blinks, he finds himself encased in an ice cocoon, rendered immobile and half-frozen to death.
By now, he realizes that he has walked straight into a trap. There is no Rukia here. The warm cabin in the woods disappears into an icy cave with rocky, jagged walls; icicles forming overhead with their wickedly sharp edges pointing downwards at him. Ichigo feels the cold in his bones when a cold draft passes through.
Ichigo flinches as the Pokémon floats towards him, demurely covering her mouth as she chuckles; her blue eyes glowing in the dark. He panics, realizing that he cannot free any of his Poké Ball with his arms frozen stiff to his sides.
“Wait!” he calls out urgently. “Why are you doing this? What do you want?”
Froslass does not answer him, but when Ichigo turns his head, he sees crystallized statues of various Pokémon lined up against the wall. Frozen solid, they wear similar expressions of shock. He gulps, feeling the cold creep of dread gripping him in its clutches when he sees a six foot tall Ursaring among the pile. Froslass must be more powerful than he thought.
Are those the bodies of her prey? Is she about to turn him into one of those statues?
Is this how he is supposed to meet his end? Sealed in a strange ice coffin without anyone noticing?
Something, or rather, someone in this part of Sinnoh must really hate his guts. Everything that can go wrong seems to have gone wrong. He swears that he is not normally this unlucky.
Both Ichigo and Froslass are surprised by the sudden appearance of Shirayuki when she leaps through the air, landing directly on Froslass. Her fangs clamp tight, giving a loud, audible crunch as she snaps her jaw. As an ice-type, the attack does not have type advantage, but a wild Froslass is no match against a seasoned fighter like her.
Shirayuki leaps to a safe distance away before Froslass can retaliate. Fur bristling, she freezes the air around her. Her fur hardens into pointed needles, sailing through the air at her command.
Ichigo rolls to his side, narrowly avoiding the volley of needles hurtling in his direction.
“Oi! Shirayuki, watch where you’re aiming those things!”
Outmatched, Froslass tries to make a run for it, but the only exit out of the cave is behind Shirayuki, and then further behind, another obstacle stands in the form of a dark-haired woman. The look on her face is icy and in her hands, Froslass sees more Poké Balls.
“Rukia!”
Ichigo tries to sit up straighter, despite his current immobility. His relief is near palpable.
Rukia shakes her head. “I take my eyes off you for one second—” she clicks her tongue. Ichigo is a magnet for trouble. It is a miracle that he has survived thus far into adulthood. “Are you alright?”
“Get me outta here!”
“In case you haven’t noticed,” Rukia snaps, “we’re already working on it!”
Rukia turns to the floating Froslass, scowling when she sees the frozen sculptures lining the wall. Unlike Ichigo, she knows what Froslass is capable of. The situation needs to be dealt with quickly. Those frozen Pokémon should be rescued as soon as possible.
“Give it up, Froslass! There’s no way out for you!”
Froslass casts a longing look at Ichigo behind her before making up her mind. She charges towards Shirayuki and is promptly knocked out.
Ichigo heaves a sigh of relief as the battle comes to an end. With some help from Shirayuki and Rukia, they manage to reanimate the frozen chrysalis, returning them back to life. As the last of the Pokémon leave the cave in a daze, Froslass begins to stir from her stupor.
Ichigo points at the Pokémon, asking Rukia. “What do you think we should do with her? If we leave her here, she might try to lure more Pokémon, or even humans, back to the cave and turn them into popsicles!”
Rukia frowns, crouching low to Froslass’s eye level. Ichigo is right. She was lucky this time, stopping Froslass before she can do any real damage on Ichigo, but luck won’t always be on her side. She taps her chin, wearing a thoughtful expression on her face as she mulls over the options.
At her touch, Froslass flinches. Her blue eyes dart to Ichigo, looking at him pleadingly for help.
Rukia dusts off the snow on her clothes as she straightens to her full height, humming. She knows just what to do.
“Congratulations, Ichigo!” She flashes a cheeky grin at Ichigo, who looks at her confused. “You’ve just caught your first Pokémon in Sinnoh!”
“Huh?! Wait just a minute, Rukia!” Ichigo cries. “You can’t honestly mean that! She just tried to kill me! You—Oi! Not you too! Get off! I swear to Arceus Almighty—”
Ichigo trails off unwittingly as he is attacked by a very enthusiastic Froslass. Froslass wraps her arms around his neck, nuzzling against Ichigo’s face. If she were a cat or a cat Pokémon, Ichigo had no doubt she’d be purring. The Pokémon’s cheek is polished and smooth, but he cannot help but shiver as ice comes into contact against his bare skin. Owing to her Ghost nature, the sting of her touch seems even icier than normal.
Rukia coos at the sight, shrugging off Ichigo’s death glares. His bark is worse than his bite. “You said it yourself, we can’t just leave her here! Who knows what sort of trouble she’ll get into?”
Ichigo scowls. “Then why can’t you take her?”
“Well unlike you, I already have six Pokémon,” Rukia replies, smirking. “And ‘sides, it’s obvious that Froslass likes you. She chose you. No one forced her to bring you back to her lair. You’re quite a ladies’ man, Ichigo. I’d be careful not to break her heart though, if I were you.”
At the blank look that Ichigo gives, Rukia elaborates, a teasing lilt to her voice as she heads towards the exit, following Shirayuki’s lead. “They say that Froslass likes the soul of handsome men the most. She curses them to eternal damnation if they stray.”
“And you’d know wouldn’t you, from one ice maiden to another?” Ichigo quips dryly behind her, doing his best to walk straight with Froslass hanging from his neck. “What’s it they say? It takes one to know one?”
Rukia grins impishly, looking over her shoulders at him. “That depends. Unlike this little one here, I happen to have standards.”
“Now that’s just rude! Take that back!”
“Make me!”
.
Like all workaholic and most Gym Leaders, Rukia lives in her Gym. Her house is built to the side of the Gym building and accessible through a separate entrance from the back. It is connected to the main floor of the Gym through a side door, convenient in cases of blizzards (which is a surprisingly common occurrence in this part of Sinnoh) and other emergencies.
Today, there is a girl sitting at the bottom of the stairs when Ichigo comes out through the door. She cannot have been older than twelve. Dressed in jeans and a chunky sweater with her red backpack slung over one shoulder, she cradles her Chimchar to her chest, trying her best to appear brave and hold her tears in.
Ichigo sighs. He has a good idea about what has happened. He remembers being that age, setting off on an adventure around the country, determined to collect badges and be the very best that no one ever was. Kids are resilient of course, but he also remembers how much a setback like losing a battle against a Gym Leader used to feel.
Ichigo would not call himself an expert at consoling crying children by any means. His sisters say that he has a scowl bad enough to curdle milk. Smiling is just not his thing. With his loud hair and a height that easily towers over them, most children would find him scary. Steeling himself, Ichigo kneels, bending down to the kid’s eye level, trying his best to appear approachable and friendly.
“It’s a good try, kid. Your Chimchar is strong and you’ve got a good grasp on battle strategy. Ice has double weakness against fire. Rukia’s Glaceon is just stronger than she looks.”
“She knows water-type attacks,” the nameless girls mutters bitterly. “That’s as bad as cheating.”
Ichigo resists the urge to chuckle as he takes a seat next to her. The last thing he wants is to offend the precocious child. “Now, I know that you don’t believe that’s true. Just because she knows water-type attacks, doesn’t mean that she cheated in the battle. She gave her all; they both did. Just as I know that you and your Chimchar did your best. Would you rather she let you win?”
“No!”
The loud and angry outburst startles the Chimchar in her arms, but the look on the girl’s face is fierce; offended that Ichigo would even suggest it. She sniffs, turning her gaze to the ceiling, determined to keep her tears from spilling.
Ichigo smiles, patting her on her shoulder. She will be ok.
“Well you know all the moves now and the right Pokémon for it. You’ve got the winning formula, kid. You just need to train harder and plan accordingly. You can come back any time to challenge Rukia for the badge. You know that, right?”
The girl nods. “Thanks, Mr Kuchiki.”
Ichigo deadpans. “I’m not Mr Kuchiki.”
“Oh, but you live with Miss Kuchiki and you’re the only other person here,” she says, blinking owlishly. “I just assume that you guys are married.”
That is not entirely true. Rukia does have a full-time Pokémon trainer on staff, but Hanatarou is not unlike the Pokémon he keeps; so mousy and timid that he seems to fade into his surroundings at the best of times. People, especially the challengers at the Gym, sometimes forget he exists.
Ichigo has been trying to talk Rukia into give Hanatarou more responsibilities and to hire more Pokémon trainers for staff. She should not have to shoulder the running of the Gym all by herself. Back at Hoenn, a Gym this size would need at least four full-time helpers. Ichigo almost flipped when he first realized that Rukia had been doing all the work with only half the manpower, wondering when was the last time she even had a holiday or a break from work.
It will take time of course. Snowpoint City has a total population that does not even pass 50, truly boasting more Pokémon than humans. Pokémon trainers are hard to come by. Most of them only venture this far north to challenge Rukia for the Icicle Badge. It would not be easy to make them stay, let alone take up a job at the Gym.
Ichigo clears his throat noisily, feeling heat lick at his cheeks. “I’m not— That is to say we’re not— We’re um… housemates.” He gave himself a pat on the back, congratulating himself on the save. “We live together and split the chores between us.”
The partnership between him and Rukia has actually worked out well. He cooks and prepares lunch for tomorrow when he makes dinner the night before. She does the washing up after meals. They take turns with the laundry and ironing, and feeding the Pokémon. They make a good team. It does not hurt that Rukia’s Pokémon are all so well-behaved and Shirayuki seems to have managed to do the impossible with Zangetsu, somehow keeping the Houndoom in line and snapping him out of his tantrums when he starts getting rowdy.
“You mean to say that you’re living together, but you’re not married?”
“Y-Yes?” Ichigo trails off, a little taken aback by the look on the little girl’s face. Her disapproval is marked in the stern frown she gives him. She gives a cursory glance at her surroundings before leaning in, her voice dropping to a low whisper.
“My mom has a word for that. She calls it leading someone on. If you’re not going to do the right thing by Gym Leader Rukia, you should let her go. It’s cruel to lead someone on if you have no intentions of settling down.”
“Ah,” Ichigo gulps, trying his best not to squirm under her gaze. For a teenage girl, she sure has mastered the art of a dagger-like glare. She is also convinced that he is romantically involved with Rukia despite his best attempts to dissuade her.
Ichigo purses his lips, unsure if he should laugh or cry. If there is anyone doing the leading on in this relationship (if they can call it that), it is certainly not him.
But it’s not like he can blame Rukia either. In a way, Ichigo is glad that he did not act on his impulses. Nothing happened between them and it is better to let it stay that way. His attraction to Rukia has not fizzled out; if anything, his admiration for her only grows. He respects her as a friend, a fellow Pokémon trainer, and the last thing he wants is to cause her pain.
He will be gone by spring time. Rukia has her own life and priorities, just like him. It is better to stay as friends. They work well together and nothing has to change. This exchange programme is going smoothly and Ichigo is hopeful that someone will earn the Icicle Badge before the end of the month.
“It’s not like that.”
The look on the girl’s face shows that she is far from convinced, but before Ichigo can elaborate, he hears Rukia shouting his name. Last time he saw her, Rukia was on the main floor of the Gym, directing the Pokémon on tidying up after her recent challenge. It sounds urgent. Ichigo cannot help but worry that something bad has happened.
He turns to look at the girl, who reassures him that she will be fine and that he should go to Rukia.
“Oh and Mr Kuchiki,” she calls out at the last minute. Ichigo turns back to see her narrowing her eyes, her fingers spread to a V-shape, pointing at her own eyes before pointing them back at him, mouthing ‘I’m watching you.’
Kids these days!
Ichigo huffs, grumbling under his breath, “I told her I’m not Mr Kuchiki!”
.
Snowpoint Gym is a landmark of Snowpoint City besides the fabled Snowpoint Temple and Lake Acuity. Upon entering the Gym, her visitors pass through a hallway lined with delicate ice sculptures of various ice-type Pokémon before coming to a grand staircase with balustrade that gleams under a powdery diamond sheen of pure ice. Ascending the staircase, they come to an ice rink that takes up the entire floor- the main floor; accessible to the general public for ice-skating at certain hours of the day.
There are three more levels above the main floor, connected by a series of slippery slides and ladders made from solid ice. Giant snowballs dot the edges, encircling the parameters; and at certain turns, act as roadblocks and barricades to deter the challengers.
As Gym Leader, Rukia waits at the top tier on a raised platform for her challengers, who are brave and clever enough to navigate the treacherous icy footpaths to reach her.
Maintenance of such a grand building is tedious and constant, but luckily the Pokémon are always happy to help. They love the Gym, treating it as their personal playground.
Ichigo waves at Hanatarou when he sees him on the second floor, directing his Abomasnow and Ichigo’s Froslass with the snowball-making while Absol and Frosmoth are tending to the ice rink at the bottom level under the supervision of Shirayuki. Rukia’s Alolan Vulpix is still too young to help, but he likes to huddle next to Lopunny and watch the other Pokémon perform their tasks, when the two aren’t busy playing on the slides, that is.
“Hey, Hanatarou! Have you seen Rukia?”
Hanatarou straightens, waving back at Ichigo with a smile. “She’s in her office,” he tells the orange-haired man. “Nurse Joy is with her. You better go quickly. It looks like it’s something serious.”
Ichigo nods, climbing down the staircase quickly before rounding the corner to the side. He wrenches the side door open, hurrying down the hallway. Rukia’s office is the first door to the left and Ichigo rushes into the room when he notices its door is left open.
“Rukia! Are you ok? Did something happen?”
Rukia tilts her head at him, motioning him to come closer but to keep his voice down. Ichigo frowns, but does as he is told. She is not alone in her office. Like Hanatarou said, Nurse Joy is here as well. Ichigo whispers his greetings to the woman. They met before when he stopped by the Pokémon Center for help with his ankle. Her Blissey was kind enough to perform Heal on him.
Ichigo instinctively wanders over to stand beside Rukia. That is when he sees the Flareon- wrapped up in a heavy blanket and unconscious as it lays on Rukia’s wooden mahogany desk.
His heart leaps to his throat as he crouches to get a better look at Flareon. “What’s wrong with the little guy?”
“She,” Nurse Joy corrects him. “I found her outside the Pokémon Center yesterday morning. I don’t even know how long she’s been left out in the cold. She’s severely underweight and weak. We tried our best at the Pokémon Center, but she’s just not responding. She’s taken a turn for the worse this morning and at this rate, she won’t make it past tonight.”
A pained expression crosses her face as she strokes at the Pokémon’s fur. “I think the poor thing’s just given up on life. I didn’t quite know what else to do, but then I remembered that there’s a fire-type specialist in town and I thought we’ll at least give it a try.”
Ichigo’s face is grave. “Let me see.”
He picks her up from the table gently, frowning when he realizes that the nurse is right. She is shockingly light and tiny. Karin’s Flareon at Lavaridge is at least double her size and unlike her Flareon, this one’s fur is dull and her yellow ruffled mane is matted. Her breathing is weak. When Ichigo lays his hand flat on the poor thing’s flank, he can barely feel the rise and fall of her chest. She is practically just skin and bones.
Scent is the strongest sense for many Pokémon. Ichigo presses the tips of his finger under her nose, hoping to get a reaction. He would like to think that she finds the scent of a fire-type Pokémon trainer reassuring. It seems to work for a bit, causing the occupants in the room to heave a collective sigh of relief when Flareon stirs, her pink tongue darting to lick tentatively at Ichigo’s fingertips. The positive change however, does not last. Disappointed that he is not her trainer, Flareon’s eyelids flutter shut as she turns away from Ichigo.
“I’ll take her back to the Pokémon Center,” says Nurse Joy with a dejected sigh. “We can make her final moments comfortable, if nothing else.”
“No. Let me have her for the night,” Ichigo tells her. “She’s a fighter. I want to try.”
Flareon will need around the clock care, but Ichigo is confident that she will pull through with a bit of tender love and care. Ichigo refuses to give up on her. He may not know the full story behind how Flareon ended up at the doorsteps of the Pokémon Center and he tries his best not to judge, but it does not stop him from feeling angry.
Whatever hardship her trainer faced, whatever reason they had; abandoning her is not the right answer. Leaving a fire-type Pokémon out in the open during the dead of winter in Snowpoint City reeks of spite and maliciousness. Either the trainer was ignorant or just plain didn’t care, but Flareon doesn’t deserve this. She is so tiny and practically a baby, how can anyone walk away from her like that?
He turns to the two women, his voice tight and measured. “Do you know any trainers with a Miltank? We’ll need some milk fresh from the source. It’ll help.”
It would be easier in Lavaridge. Inoue, Tatsuki’s best friend, owns a Mareep farm just outside of Lavaridge Town. She has a Miltank and is more than happy to supply the team with fresh milk when any of the Pokémon falls ill.
“Let me make some calls,” Rukia tells him as she grabs her phone, already scrolling through her contact list for the right number. “Nanao has a Miltank. She lives in Floaroma Town with her husband. I can get there with Lapras and be back in time before it gets completely dark.”
After making sure that Ichigo and Rukia are fine with arrangement, Nurse Joy excuses herself to tend to her other duties at the Snowpoint Pokémon Center.
“I’ll be back in the morning to check on her,” she tells them as she exits through the back door.
Rukia leaves after getting confirmation from Nanao. She takes her Pokémon with her on her errand, but reassures Ichigo that she will back in time for dinner, waving goodbye to him as she makes her way to the docks with Shirayuki hot on her heels.
Ichigo unzips his fleece jacket, tucking Flareon between the layers as he cradles her close to his chest. Flareon will do better in the warm. He wanders over to the living room, the warmest place in the house, making himself comfortable as he settles by the roaring fire.
“I’m not giving up on you,” he whispers to Flareon, “so don’t you dare give up on yourself!”
.
Rukia’s friend came through. She brings back three full bottles of Miltank milk from Floaroma Town and a promise from Nanao that she is more than happy to deliver more if Flareon needs it.
Ichigo stifles a yawn, rubbing his bleary eyes before returning to his task. It is just past three in the morning. Cradling Flareon against his chest, he reclines against the stack of pillows on the futon bed that Rukia set up by the fireplace. With the tip of the syringe barely fitting into her tiny mouth, he pushes down on the plunger slowly, worried that Flareon might choke on the milk otherwise.
This is Flareon’s fourth feeding. She is still too weak to feed directly from a bottle. Ichigo has been making do with a syringe. She has not been very receptive of the feeding. Most of the milk dribbles straight out from the corners of her mouth, but Ichigo perseveres with it, wiping the excess away with a muslin cloth before trying again. Every little counts and Flareon needs her strength.
“Scoot over!”
Rukia’s footsteps are so light that Ichigo does not even catch them until he heard her voice. She is wrapped in a pink, fluffy dressing gown and wearing bedroom slippers that look like massive Lopunny paws. She sits down next to him when he makes space for her and of course where Rukia is, Shirayuki is never far behind.
With the addition of Rukia and Shirayuki, and Zangetsu lightly snoring to his left, the futon is starting to become a bit crowded. Ichigo gulps, his body stiffening when Rukia’s knees bump against his.
Unpertubed, Rukia sidles closer. She only has eyes for the tiny Flareon in his arms and Ichigo chides himself for behaving the way that he did. He forces himself to relax. He needs to get a better grip on himself. Not everything is about him.
“I couldn’t sleep. Just kept thinking about how tiny and helpless she looked. How is she?”
“Not much different than she was during the last feeding, to be honest,” Ichigo whispers. He adjusts his grip on Flareon. Pins and needles have set in on his arm and his neck feels stiff.
Sensing his discomfort, Rukia wordlessly takes Flareon away from Ichigo. She is mindful of the syringe still stuck in Flareon’s mouth and the muslin cloth that Ichigo tucks under her chin as a bib.
Ichigo clears his throat, looking away when she unties the sash of her dressing gown, but it is only to tuck Flareon between her gown and the striped pyjamas that she has on underneath. Shirayuki yips, her big blue eyes peering at Flareon with concern as she climbs onto Rukia’s lap, eager to take a better look at her.
“They say that it takes a village, you know,” says Rukia as she takes over feeding duty. She can feel the poor thing’s heart slowly beating in time to hers. It is faint, but it is there. There is a fighter in her and like Ichigo, Rukia believes in her.
“All this time you’ve been telling me to share the load and not do things on my own.” She huffs, looking at Ichigo dead in the eyes. “Well now I want to give the same advice to you, Ichigo. Go and eat something. You didn’t even finish dinner. I’ll keep watch over her. We’ll take turns. This little one needs all the help she can get.”
There is a sudden lump in his throat. Ichigo nods, not trusting himself to speak. Zangetsu is none the wiser when he leaves the futon, still snoring and probably dreaming about wreaking havoc somewhere. The space is quickly occupied by Rukia and Shirayuki. The glow of warm fire casts a softness to her features and Ichigo thinks the image is going to stay with him for a long time to come.
When he finishes dinner, he sees a snuggle pile by the fireplace. Rukia hugs Flareon close to her chest, flanked by Zangetsu on her left, his huge paw resting on her thigh, and Shirayuki’s head on her right shoulder. A weaker man would have melted. Ichigo thinks he has never seen anything sweeter; even Alcremie cannot a candle to this. He picks up the comforter that has been kicked off the futon, draping it over the three with a wistful smile. He does not have the heart to wake her.
Ichigo makes up his mind easily enough. He disappears upstairs only to reappear with his futon, comforter and pillows minutes later. He lays it close to the first futon. Lying on his side facing Shirayuki, he pulls the comforter over him, tucking it under his chin. He whispers good night to Rukia before he shuts his eyes, determined to wake up before anyone is up in the morning.
.
“H-Hello, Miss Rukia? Ichigo? Anyone home?”
Hanatarou is a little worried when he finds the front doors to the Gym locked this morning. Miss Rukia is usually up and doing warm-ups with her Pokémon on the main floor by the time he arrives. Today, however, the Gym shows no sign of activity. With his key, Hanatarou opens up shop, switching on the lights and setting the place up accordingly.
Maybe Rukia is just having a lie-in?
His worry grows when he doesn’t find anyone on any of the floors. He releases his Pokémon, asking them to fan out and come straight to him if they see anything, but to no avail.
As a last resort, Hanatarou circles to the back of the building. He fishes out a key from his pocket, gulping when he feels the weight of it in his palm. Rukia trusts him enough to give him a spare key to her house. It feels like a betrayal of trust and an invasion of Rukia’s privacy to even consider it, but he needs to make sure that everyone is alright.
The metal key slides into the lock perfectly. The door opens with a soft click and Hanatarou makes his way in quietly, careful not to upset or disturb anything on his way in.
He can scarcely believe it when he comes across the fireplace. There are two futons laid out side by side, facing the dying fire embers. Pillows are strewn about and comforters kicked off. Zangetsu lays spread-eagle, taking up most of the first futon, pushing the other occupants onto the second futon. Rukia sleeps on her side, facing Ichigo, who drapes his arms over her protectively. The comforter on him slides low, barely covering his legs, but he does not seem to mind.
A tiny mop of yellow fur peeks between them. A sleeping Flareon, Hanatarou realizes, and quite possibly the tiniest that he has ever seen. Her chest rises slowly, her soft snores tousling the stray bang between Rukia’s eyes, who snuggles closer against Flareon, her lips curve into a soft smile even in her sleep.
At Hanatarou’s approach, Shirayuki chirps softly, looking up from her perch at the foot of the futon. She turns her gaze to the futon’s occupants before looking at Hanatarou again. She raises her tail upwards to her mouth, as if to say ‘Shhh! Do not disturb!’
Hanatarou nods with a smile, exiting the same way he came in. He locks the door behind him before returning to the Gym to do the same. For the first time since he started working at the Snowpoint Gym, he flips the sign over to ‘Closed’ during normal working hours.
There is no doomsday catastrophe hovering in the horizon; not a cloud in the sky, nor the bristly tail feathers of a Murkrow in sight, but Hanatarou figures that Gym Leader Rukia deserves it, on account of all the hard work she has put in and the long hours of toil owed; a day off is just what she needs.
.
Ichigo does his best to appear unaffected as Rukia’s Alolan Vulpix fixes his best impression of puppy dog eyes on him, yipping and crying like he has never been fed. Rukia’s Pokémon are too well-behaved to steal food, but it does not mean that they don’t hover close by, doing their best to earn scraps when Ichigo is cooking.
Ichigo looks away when the sparkles in those milky blue eyes blind him; tries his best to ignore Vulpix when the Pokémon paws and nudges at his hand.
“Hey, no! Stop that!”
Vulpix is standing too close to the hot stove. Ichigo worries about him getting burnt from the flames, or worse, if he accidentally knocks over the bottle of red wine that Ichigo has just opened; it’d stain his white fur. Vulpix would need a bath if that happens. Vulpix hates bath time; screams like he is being burnt alive or roasted on a bed of hot coals as soon as he is lowered into the water.
“Oi, Renji!” Ichigo hollers. “Make yourself useful and move Vulpix away from the stove!”
Dressed appropriately in a red sweater and black trousers this time, Renji looks up only to snicker before turning his attention back to the snacks on the table.
“But you’re handling yourself so well there,” Renji replies with a smirk, leaning back against his seat and making no moves to get up any time soon. “I think you’ll be fine.”
It is amusing to say the least. Ichigo tries his best to appear stern and gruff, but it is obvious to those who know him that the man is a sucker for cute things and the Pokémon under his care. Sometimes it feels like the Pokémon trainer has always been here, a mama duck taking care of all the baby ducklings that call this Gym home. He seems to collect them as he goes along; first a Froslass and now his latest addition, an abandoned Flareon, currently curled up in a pile with Ichigo’s Houndoom and Shirayuki.
Nothing gets Renji’s blood boiling like Pokémon trainers who abandon their Pokémon. His heart broke a little when he first heard of Flareon’s story from Rukia, but Flareon is a fighter and has come a long way, thanks to the combined efforts of Rukia, Ichigo and their Pokémon.
She is slowly coming out of her shell; still painfully shy and wary of strangers, but she no longer cries or runs straight to Ichigo when she is frightened. She even managed to put on a few pounds during her last weigh-in at the Pokémon Center. Nurse Joy was very pleased with Flareon’s recovery progress, or so Renji was told.
Annoyed by the ruckus, Zangetsu stirs, reluctantly pulling himself away from his snuggle buddies, stretching before he approaches the stove, coming to Ichigo’s rescue. Raising himself up on his hind legs, Zangetsu grabs Vulpix by the scruff of his neck, dragging him away from Ichigo. Any attempts at protesting is silenced by a warning growl and a sharp glare from Zangetsu.
‘Behave!’
Admonished, Vulpix ducks his head, tucking his curly tails between his legs as he is set none-too-gently on the floor. Even with an ugly green vest on, Houndoom is scary and most Pokémon know better than to cross him. Vulpix pouts as he leaves the room, no doubt looking for other friends to play with, or Renji suspects, to cry to them about what a meanie Zangetsu is.
“Thanks, Zan,” Ichigo calls out gratefully while giving a pointed look at Renji. Some humans are worse than Pokémon and absolutely useless.
Houndoom’s pronged tail swishes as he grunts in response. Task completed, he returns to his spot, yawning before he settles by Shirayuki’s side.
Ichigo turns off the burner when the stew is done. Taking off his apron, he sighs when he sees the three Pokémon cuddling together. Shirayuki is in the middle, curled protectively over Flareon, while Zangetsu’s much larger body flanks her. The two have gotten close. It will be hard to say goodbye when the time comes.
“Why the long face?” Renji asks. “You’re going back to Hoenn soon, aren’t you?”
Ichigo scowls as he marches over to Renji. He all but snatches the open jar from him. “Hands off those Poffins! They’re not for you, Renji. They’re Pokémon treats. You’ll get sick.”
Renji waves flippantly at Ichigo’s concern. “They tasted alright. ‘Sides, they’re made from berries anyway. How bad can they be? Anyway, when are you leaving? I bet you miss home.”
“Next week.”
This will be his last week in Sinnoh and Snowpoint City. Someone finally earned the Icicle Badge last week, breaking Rukia’s winning streak. It wasn’t the girl who called him Mr Kuchiki, but Ichigo has no doubt that she will back at Snowpoint Gym in no time, earning her well-deserved badge- even if he wouldn’t be there to see it.
Karin and Yuzu have video-called him numerous times during the past few weeks, reminding him about souvenirs and to take more pictures of Sinnoh. The girls cooed collectively when they saw Flareon and Froslass. Even Tatsuki joined in during the last session, making some off-handed remark about how things have not been the same without him.
They are excited to have him back with them. Ichigo feels bad that he cannot say the same. He does miss his family and friends, but his heart aches every time he thinks about leaving. He will miss the easy camaraderie he shares with Rukia, their meal time together, battling against her; bantering with her, her Pokémon, the smell of winter and pine that is Snowpoint City, and Rukia.
He will miss everything about her.
“What’s for lunch?”
Rukia’s voice jolts him away from his thoughts as she wanders into the kitchen.
Arms full with the groceries from her weekly shop, Rukia frowns when she sees Renji. He must be the laziest Gym Leader that she knows. He is almost never at his Gym. And whenever he’s visiting, he eats like he has never been fed.
“Renji, why are you here?”
Renji knows her too well to be offended by the look she gives him. “Official League business. I’m here to arrange transportation for Ichigo when he leaves for Hoenn next week. I’ll be dropping him off personally at Sunyshore City so he can get on the ship bound for Hoenn.”
“It’s settled then, ya?” Renji turns to Ichigo as he gets up from his seat, clamping his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “I’ll pick you up some time today next week.”
“Y-Yeah.”
With Renji’s abrupt departure, it is just the two of them standing in the kitchen. Ichigo snaps out of his funk, quickly realizing that Rukia still has her arms full of grocery.
“Here let me help—”
Rukia brushes past him, avoiding his eyes. “No, I’ll do it.”
She clenches her fists, nearly ripping the brown paper bag. She forces her voice to sound breezy and cheerful, keeping her back turned until she is done stocking the fridge.
“I need the practice,” she tells Ichigo jokingly, faking a laugh. “Need to get used to doing things by myself, you know.”
It is true, after all. Ichigo leaves next week and her life would go back to the way that it was.
All good things come to an end.
.
Rukia looks up from the sink and the pile of used utensils sitting in it. She has been putting it off for a while now, but there is no use denying the inevitable. She just kept thinking- hoping that someone would tap on her shoulders at some point, reminding her that the dishes are piling up in the sink. He would be asking her what she wants for dinner next and she would—
Rukia hisses, realizing that the water is too hot and she almost burnt herself. Scowling, she turns off the tap sharply. She grips the sponge in her hand, squeezing it so hard that her knuckles appear white and then in a fit of irrationality, flings it back into the suds-filled sink. Water splashes, staining her clothes and she swears, annoyed.
“Stupid!”
Nothing that she does is right. She hugs herself tightly as she slides to the floor, feeling overwhelmed and lost. She does not understand how she can be so sad and so angry at the same time.
It is like he was never here to begin with. He didn’t leave anything behind, except his stupid charger. She never realized that the house and the Gym can feel so big and so… empty.
Ichigo left Snowpoint City two days ago. Renji came to pick him up just like he said he would; the two of them leaving Snowpoint City together. She said her goodbyes, but it did not give her the closure that she needed.
Shirayuki’s high-pitched whine startles her, making her look up as Shirayuki wanders into the kitchen. She has been running around the place, searching high and low for her friends and snuggle buddies since they left. She is attached to Flareon and it is obvious how much she misses Zangetsu with the way she carries the ugly vest with her. When Rukia bends to pet her, Shirayuki looks unbearably sad and mopey, whimpering as if to ask ‘Where are they?’
Something wet slithers down the side of her cheek and Rukia swipes at it. This is stupid. She should not be crying over something silly like this.
She is independent, self-sufficient and competent. She runs her own Gym, for crying out loud!
She will get better. The loneliness will fade. She isn’t on her own. She has her Pokémon with her. She has so many things she should be doing. Give her time and it will be just as it was before; before Ichigo came into her life.
But what if she does not want it to be?
Rukia sets Shirayuki back onto the floor, reassuring the Pokémon that she will back soon. Some would say she has a death wish with the way she rushes out into the cold, sans coat and scarf, making a beeline for the Snowpoint Temple.
Rukia does not stop or care and she does not stop until her bare hands touch the cool stone walls. The cold helps her think, sharpening her focus.
The sound of her heavy pants echoes as she kneels on the snow-covered ground. Here, it is just her and her thoughts. The locals tend to steer clear of the temple. She will not be disturbed.
Rukia tries to talk sense into herself. Ichigo will not miss her. Not when he has his own family and friends in Hoenn. He has a whole life there, might even have a sweetheart waiting at home for him. He will stay in Hoenn and she will stay in Sinnoh and that will be the end of things.
She can’t be that person. She can’t make him leave his life behind, just so that she would not feel lonely. That would be selfish.
Yet—
Is it really wrong of her to be selfish?
She never talked to Ichigo about how she feels about him. She does not even know if what she feels can be called love or is it really just dependence on a friend whom she has grown to appreciate having around her. Ichigo is a good friend and a good housemate, especially when he is compared to a slob like Renji, which isn’t to say that Renji is horrible. It just feels… different with Ichigo.
She likes spending time with Ichigo, even if it’s just doing nothing and talking nonsense. They can talk about things and he would support her decisions, well most of the time. He nags like a mother hen, but guards his brood like a Kangaskhan. He acts tough, but is really sweet; has a hard time saying no to others and his Houndoom is just like him, scary and snarky on the outside, but with a heart of gold. He is patient and kind, dependable and funny, and—
She really misses him.
So unbelievably much that she feels miserable without him; that she wishes he’d show up if only to nag her about her dirty dishes.
The last thought makes Rukia chuckle despite her streaming tears. She wonders for the minute if she has truly lost her mind. She inhales sharply, feeling the chill of her surroundings. Her grief has subsided to something a little more bearable now that she has had a good cry about things. There is a sense of resignation to her fate. She blew it; missed her chance and she has no one to blame for her unhappiness but herself.
She realized a little too late what Ichigo meant to her.
The best thing to do now is to head back indoors and change out of her dirty wet clothes before she catches a cold, and maybe wash her face while she is at it; she would not want Hanatarou and her Pokémon to worry about her.
Deep in thought, Rukia shivers when she feels snowflakes against her cheek. She frowns, confused. The weather forecast said nothing about snow today.
Unless—
She raises her gaze skyward in shock, averting her gaze when a strong burst of wind passes through the air. The trill of Articuno is a song that never dies; a beautiful symphony that lingers in the air, but longer in the minds of those who have heard it. The legendary Pokémon swoops down from thin air, her blue plumage and icy blue wings, stunning and beautiful. Her head dips and Rukia is suddenly airborne, too stunned to even shout from the change in altitude.
She is riding on the bird’s back, her fingers gripping tightly onto its feathers as Articuno flaps her giant wings, carrying her higher and higher into the sky. They brush past the roof top of Snowpoint Gym and Rukia swears she can see Shirayuki waving at her from the kitchen window.
The cold seeps through her wet clothes, making Rukia shiver. Her teeth chatter, wishing she had the good sense to wear her coat before went out just now. Cold wind tugs sharply at her as they ascend. Her dark hair whips against her face, making it hard for her to keep her eyes open.
“Stop, Articuno! Where are you taking me?”
The Pokémon does not answer her. Rukia does not know how much time has passed, but her fingers eventually grow numb. She knows that Articuno would never let her fall, but she is not taking any chances. Her cheeks hurt and her hair must be a ghastly sight- windswept and tousled like a bird’s nest.
Just when Rukia thinks that she is about to die from hypothermia, she senses the rise in temperature. The wind seems to die down, growing gentler. Her eyelids flutter open and she realizes with a start that she recognizes some of the buildings. She sees ships and the deep blue sea. The smell of the ocean is strong and distinctive.
Sunyshore City!
She is at the docks!
Rukia can feel tears gathering at the corner of her eyes and she cannot be sure if it is from sure relief of seeing land, or the idea of seeing Ichigo again. It feels like there is a swarm of Frosmoth and Butterfree waging war in the pit of her stomach. She is not ready. What is she even going to say to him?
Hi?
But there is no time to think, no time for second-guessing, as the buildings below her grow bigger and the tiny black dots underneath assume human-size shapes and figures. She gulps, steeling herself for the descent.
Articuno lands with a sharp cry, setting them both on solid ground in the blink of an eye.
All eyes are on her and her legendary Pokémon when she touches down. The docks have come to a complete standstill, surprised and overwhelmed by the out of the blue appearance of Articuno- a legendary Pokémon (and her trainer)!
Rukia feels a push from Articuno as she slides off the Pokémon’s back. Articuno nods encouragingly at Rukia, trilling softly before she takes to the air once again. Articuno is not familiar with the courting practices of humans, but she muses that it should not be any more difficult than performing a mating dance. Her trainer is an excellent dancer. Her mate would surely appreciate the display, falling head-over-heels for her before the first song ends!
Rukia watches as Articuno disappears entirely from sight. She is left to fend for herself in this sea of people, who look at her with a myriad of expressions. Rukia feels a little hot, conscious of the attention as she smooths down her hair, tugging the hem of her clothes to try and look presentable. She needs to find Ichigo. She does not even know if he is still here or if his ship has already left the docks or if—
“Now that’s some entrance!”
Rukia’s eye twitches. She recognizes that voice. Sure enough, she sees Renji walking towards her, slow-clapping with a smirk on his face. Ichigo is right behind him, dressed casually in a buttoned short-sleeved shirt and dark jeans. The sea breeze tousles his wild hair and the sunshine lends a healthy glow to his skin.
Rukia’s breath hitches as she locks eyes with him. The sound of ocean waves crashing against the shore, the billowing wind that tugs at her clothes and hair, the noisy squawk of Pelipper cawing around them, the din of human activities nigh indiscernible from human chatter; it all dims and fades away.
She hears Ichigo and the sound of her drumming heartbeat. They are the only two that matter.
“Rukia? What are you doing here?”
Rukia gulps. “I-I—”
I realized I was an idiot to let you go?
I really miss you and your Pokémon?
I want you to stay?
“Y-You forgot your charger.”
Rukia winces, resisting the urge to face-palm. She does not know why she even said that. She is normally better than this. Maybe she should rethink this; being near Ichigo seems to make her stupid by default.
“Oh, you didn’t have to.”
Rukia’s cheeks look windburned and painful. Ichigo keeps his fists clenched by his sides, resisting the urge to reach out and touch them. He does not like to see her in pain and he hates the idea of standing around, feeling useless instead of doing something to soothe the sting.
“Wait here!” he tells her. “I’ll go get some ointment for you—”
“What? No!” Rukia winces. This is not how she envisioned the conversation to go. “I don’t want any ointment!”
“Well then, what do you want?” Ichigo snaps. Because she certainly doesn’t want him; not even as a friend. She wouldn’t even look him in the eye when he said goodbye to her. It is hard not to feel hurt. It makes him think that their friendship does not mean anything at all to her.
Just who does Rukia Kuchiki think she is anyway?
Just because she’s cool and pretty and-and cute, it does not mean that she gets to walk all over his feelings!
“You know what, Rukia? I’m sorry you wasted your time flying all the way here from Snowpoint City on the back of your Articuno just to return my Pokédex charger, cuz I was thinking of getting a new one anyway! One of those newer models that you can download onto your phone as an app. And you, you have a lot of nerve—”
Ichigo trails off with a frown. She is too quiet. There is no way that the Rukia he knows would just lie down and take this from him; not without at least mounting some form of retort. He panics when he notices tears glistening at the corner of her eyes while a lone tear streaks across her cheek.
“R-Rukia, are you crying?”
“N-No!”
Her wobbly voice and quivering lips do not make a convincing lie. The fight leaves Ichigo’s body in an instant and his anger melts away. His body moves on autopilot as he rushes to her side, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close while he apologizes. The guilt of making her cry aside, he has never seen Rukia like this. She is normally so calm and collected, tough as nails and more likely to shout and scream than break down in tears.
“I’m an idiot. Please, don’t cry, Rukia. I didn’t mean it. You probably have better things to do with your time than—”
The crazy afterthought hits him and he feels like an idiot for not realizing it earlier: Rukia has better things to do with her time. She wouldn’t have gone through all that hassle, just to return a stupid Pokédex charger.
“Rukia, this isn’t about the charger, is it?”
“N-No.” Rukia sniffs, blinking her tears away. “I don’t give two flying hoots about your stupid charger or your Pokédex, and I hope you know that. I-I came because I wanted to see you, but then you sounded so angry when you started shouting at me and-and it made me think that I was doing the wrong thing by coming here; that this is all a big mistake and that I make you miserable.”
“Hey, none of that,” Ichigo tells her, pulling her back when she tries to leave. No amount of squirming from her would make him loosen his hold. His heart pounds with the new epiphany. The possibility of Rukia returning his feelings; that Rukia feels something for him too, leaves him hanging at the precipice. He can hardly breathe.
“Rukia, why did you want to see me?”
She glares at him through her tears, refusing to respond, but Ichigo is nothing if not persistent. He coaxes her to keep her eyes on him, his expression uncannily soft and gentle. Even when Rukia pushes him away, he does not let go.
“You’re so annoying,” Rukia mutters, rolling her eyes.
Ichigo shrugs. He sees the hint of smile in her eyes, so he must be doing something right.
“Thanks, and stubborn too. I’ve been told that they are some of my more endearing qualities. Just in case you were wondering,” he drawls sarcastically. “So you can stop dodging the question, now is there something else that you want to tell me?”
“Fine!” Rukia hiccups. She has already made a fool of herself crying in front of Ichigo; nothing fazes her any more. She is only going to say this once. She shudders, bracing herself.
“I like you. A lot.”
Embarrassingly, the words would not stop once she starts. “And-And I know it won’t amount to anything. You’re busy. I’m busy. We’re both Gym leaders and we have our own commitments. You’re based in Hoenn and I’m here in Sinnoh. You have your family and friends over there to think about. Heck, you might even have someone waiting for you or you could be married with a kid, a few kids even, and-and I can’t—”
She frowns when she notices Ichigo laughing. Is he laughing at her? She is pouring her heart out to him and he is just there laughing at her?
How dare he?
Ichigo is still chuckling when he cups her face. The look on Rukia’s face is priceless. She looks so angry, like she is about to spit fire at him. Is he crazy for finding it cute?
“Rukia—” Ichigo strokes her cheek gently, leaning his forehead against hers— “shut up.”
Ichigo presses his lips to hers, his hand cradling the back of her head to deepen it when Rukia does not fight him. His fingers slide through her hair. Rukia tastes like strawberry lip balm and she smells like a combination of all his favorite things: the pine forest of Snowpoint City, lavender from the laundry detergent that they use, smoke from the fireplace where their Pokémon like to gather and cuddle; the first time he woke up with her in his arms—
Home, Ichigo realizes belatedly—
Rukia smells like home.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he tells her. “And I don’t have a lover or a wife or kids back home in Lavaridge Town, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“But what about your Gym? You’ve worked so hard for it.”
Ichigo shrugs. “Tatsuki has done a fine job of running it for this long. She can have the job if she wants to and if she doesn’t want it, I’m sure Karin would’t mind.”
“And the weather? You’re always complaining about the cold.”
“True,” Ichigo says, leaning in to brush the tip of his nose against hers. “But I love you. You’ll find that there’s precious little that I won’t put up with because of it.”
“You love me?” A mischievous gleam shines in Rukia’s eyes as she grins cheekily, speaking in a sing-song voice. “I had no idea.”
Ichigo rolls his eyes. “Last time I checked you’re not a Goldeen, Rukia. Don’t tell me you forgot. ‘Sides, it doesn’t change the facts. You confessed to me first.”
“Nuh-uh,” Rukia tuts, smirking. “I said ‘I like you’.”
“A lot,” Ichigo adds. “You said ‘I like you. A lot’.”
“Uh-huh. But you said ‘I love you’ first.”
“So what if I did?” Ichigo challenges.
“Well then Mr Kurosaki, I think that we should—”
“Get a room you two!”
Renji gags at the lovey-dovey display. He thinks he might be sick if he has to sit through another one of their foreplay-disguised banter. He didn’t suffer through the trek to Snowpoint City and back, to be force-fed this! Someone else can have the thankless job next time.
“You lovebirds can figure out a way home yourselves.” Renji shakes his head, turning his back on them, deciding that he wants nothing to do with them. “I’m outta here.”
Ichigo barely bats an eye at Renji’s outburst, choosing instead to steal another kiss from Rukia. The smile on his face is mirrored by Rukia when they separate. He takes her by the hand, lacing their fingers together.
“Let’s go home, Rukia.”
His home is with Rukia at Snowpoint City.
He will have to call the team and his sisters when he gets there, then there is the matter of tendering his resignation as Gym Leader to the League, and his relocation to Sinnoh, but Ichigo digresses; they can figure things out when they are home. All in all he does not regret any of it.
The Inter-Region Pokémon gym Leader Exchange for Development and Growth schemE, IRPLEDGE for short, is the best thing that ever happened to him.