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“How could you?”
Arven was known by most of the student body to be temperamental, even abrasive at times, but Director Clavell could have never prepared for the burning anger that had set the young man alight. With gritted teeth and fists tightly clenched, there was a fury that had etched itself deeply into his delicate features and sharpened his eyes. Never before had Clavell been the target of such animosity, or rather, not since his own youth when he stared down the trunk of a raging Great Tusk in the name of discovery...but this was enough to make sweat cling to the older man’s pale brow, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
After expressing his condolences, Clavell thought solace could be found for the boy. Was the delivery more formal than he realized? Lacked the compassion he had intended to get across-?
“This whole time...you knew? After so many years and not once did you ever think to tell me?” Arven seethed, and the pieces finally clicked into place.
“Master Arven, I-...” Finally, Clavell felt as if he could bring forth the words in order to speak. “You must understand - I was simply abiding by what your mother requested of me, she thought it in your best interest that I-”
“My best interest?” Somehow, those carefully crafted words only seemed to make him angrier. His body began to tremble from what threatened to boil over, much like a kettle forgotten on the stove and its cry left unheard. “She lost her say in the matter when she chose a machine over her own son!” As this spilled out Arven had torn his sight away and instead cast it over the room in which he and his friends had been summoned to. It was all too familiar - the sterile touch of microscopes and beakers, shelves lined with more books than they were meant to hold, even the fossils that remained framed despite the weight that they carried. This office was still in every part his mother’s except the nameplate that rested on her old desk, the very desk that Clavell now sat behind.
“She never knew what was best for me, hell, she still wouldn’t know even if she was alive!” Both the Director and other three students were stunned into silence but Arven couldn’t take it anymore. This space, their wide eyes, their pity. It was all closing in on him faster than he could keep up with, crushing his chest as if he were trapped beneath the mighty force of a Tinkaton’s hammer. It was becoming harder to breathe, his head spinning from feelings that had been carried far too long without an outlet. Without reprieve. And now? Without the closure he had always waited for, what he had hoped for.
There would never be anything more in that carved piece of earth than ghosts and shattered promises.
Before anyone else could get another word in Arven had already stormed out, leaving the door wide open behind him. “That was...ahem.” Clavell had to clear his throat, his shoulders straightening as he did so. "I am sure Master Arven just needs time to, uh, cool off...We will discuss further preparations regarding the Academy Ace Tournament as the time draws closer, yes?" When the group of students nodded their Director dismissed them and the newly crowned Champion led Miss Nemona and Penny out of his office. Immediate silence followed after the door was closed, yet Clavell could only hear Arven's words still echoing in his ears.
Oh, Professor...Did we really do the right thing?
˚⊱𖥸⊰˚
Much like the departed Professor, their shared colleagues, Clavell had always been an academic. He prioritized his studies, his research, his expeditions. He was always one to put his career first, so when Sada had asked him to watch her young son from afar while she delved deeper into her own Clavell thought nothing of it. Arven was a capable boy, after all, a boy who came from one of the brightest minds of this generation, so Clavell had no qualms keeping a passive eye as Arven grew and navigated the academy when he was old enough to enroll. It wasn't until he saw the pain in his eyes, heard the sheer desperation in his voice that Clavell realized how wrong it all really was.
When one entered the field as a lone researcher, it made sense to dedicate one's entire being and efforts to the cause. But when loved ones become involved? One must maintain a balance. In comparison, Clavell wasn't a family man so the request seemed simple, so logical at the time, it had never occurred to him that Sada never achieved that equilibrium. He had no idea how long Arven had truly been left alone, that he had learned far too early how to raise himself. Growth meant experiencing life, a childhood at a steady pace, not to be yanked though and forced to become an adult. How could a parent put their own child through such a thing?
A deep, aching guilt clawed at the Director's chest. To know that one of his dear students had been suffering so long in silence - that the time could have lessened if he had intervened sooner, if he had just said something to his colleague when she was still here with them. How differently would things have been if he had just...? Clavell couldn't afford to to think about the what ifs, the should haves. He would never be able to change the past, but if anything, he knew that there was still time to fix the present.
˚⊱𖥸⊰˚
The first Academy Ace Tournament came and went with roaring success, leaving both the student-body and faculty already eager for the next. It brought the Director so much delight to see everyone in such high spirits, a pride dwelling within him from such an outcome of unity, but there was still so, so much more work to be done.
"Master Arven, if you could spare but a moment of your time I wish to speak with you...If that would be alright to do so, of course." Even if he was turned down, relief was to be found in at least seeing a smile on the student's face again.
The young man had been chatting amongst his friends, in celebration of the event, Clavell assumed, until it was put to a halt. "Uh..." Arven exchanged a glance with the group, nervous and uncertain, but when his little buddy reassured him with a nod Arven was able to swallow that anxiety and make up his mind. "Yeah, sure." He cooperated, having followed behind until the two were beneath a tree on the grassy campus.
"So...What's up?"
"I sure hope I did not extinguish such a lit party!" Clavell exclaimed humorously, but the boy stood there so dumbstruck and confused that the older man regretted it immediately. Once again, his jokes did not land among the youth and he was the only one laughing, albeit forced to fill the dead air. He had said it so confidently, too, how humiliating! "Pl...Please excuse me- that's not what I-...ahem..." Another clear of the throat to soothe his own nerves. He could do this.
"Mas-...No, Arven, I pulled you aside because I wanted to apologize for what happened."
"Huh? Oh, don't sweat it. How I acted was pretty embarrassing actually, so I'm totally fine if we forget abou-"
"No, nonsense! I implore you to not think such things, this is far too important." Clavell insisted, and press forward with a bow. "What I said, how I went about the matter...it was all so inconsiderate of me. The life you have been forced to lead...was the result of so many adults failing you, Arven, and I truly apologize that I was one of them."
Once more the boy stood before him in silence, but instead of the piercing anger from before there was vulnerability to his eyes, gentle and glassy like the sea.
"...One of my deepest regrets will always be not stepping in sooner," Clavell continued, simply hoping that his words would reach him this time. "But...if permitted, I would like to rectify that." Now he stood upright again, fueled by this resolve. This boy had become his responsibility, his charge, long before his former self had even realized.
"I am by no means perfect, nor am I confident in my care-taking skills, but...if you wish, I would like to become more involved in your life, Master Arven, a figure that you can rely upon." An outlandish request Clavell was sure it would seem, but he had to try nonetheless.
"I..." Arven had to look away, unable to meet the older man's eye as he took all of this in. He felt guarded, disbelief that he could actually depend on someone else kept his walls higher than a Bastiodon's, and yet...something deep down had always yearned for such words - to be seen, heard, cared for. He had his new friends, yes, but what happens after graduation? What then? They would go on with their lives, their journeys, be with their families...but where did that leave him? Who would he turn to? Who would he have if he actually lost Mabosstiff?
Arven...didn't want to be alone. He just couldn't do it anymore.
The thought alone finally made a tear run down his face but he quickly wiped it, slapping both cheeks to get a grip on the situation as he often did. "It's...not like I can call you Dad or anything, but..." Finally he was able to make eye contact again, clearly holding a certainty that he lacked before. "I really don't think I can go back to the lighthouse...it's just too...I..." Despite himself, his voice cracked a little, and he had to stroke Mabosstiff's poké ball that rested at his hip in order to steel himself.
"...So, maybe...if you wouldn't mind...I could...um..."
The boy needn't say more and Clavell placed a hand atop his head before he could do so, offering nothing more but a welcoming smile. "Nothing would bring me greater happiness, Arven."
˚⊱𖥸⊰˚
The smell of burning pastry and sugar filled the air, but it wasn’t the only thing that made Arven’s stomach turn. After everything they’d been through, why was Principal Clavell trying to pretend that everything was okay?
Mabostiff grumbled as a plate of blackened lumps was set before them on a wrinkled picnic blanket.
“Burning these Poké Puffs was rather cringe of me, don’t you think?” Clavell said with a weak laugh.
That signature, skin-crawling silence and bewildered look. However, rather than being met with judgment and disapproval, laughter tumbled from the boy across from him. “Wow, you really do suck at this, huh?” Arven jeered, yet there was no malice to his words. Instead he lifted the tray to observe and give his honest critique. Yes, they were horrible, atrocious even, but there was always room to improve when it came to cooking.
“How is it both burnt and raw..?” He muttered to himself as he pulled one a part, though he would never dare to taste it. “...Let’s just leave the food prep to me, yeah? Or at least let me be in the kitchen, y’know, to give tips and stuff. Annnd in case Cloyster needs to put out a fire.”
“Oh, Master Arven, you wound me...” Clavell hung his head in shame, his pride long gone, yet all the while he couldn’t help when his own shoulders shook from the laughter that was building within himself. This prompted Mabosstiff to chime in with deep, but excited calls, and there wasn’t a frown to be seen.
There was still a long way to go and so much more to learn, but that was the joy of it. Things would get awkward, they would get frustrating, even painful, but most of all, they wouldn’t be experienced alone. No longer would there be empty rooms and shed tears, but connection and warmth. A warmth that could now be nurtured and bloom in the most unexpected places - a beloved pokémon’s muzzle, the hand of a friend, the efforts made to build this makeshift little family...And together, day by day, they would take steps towards a place that they could call home.