Entry tags:
Change for the Holidays (PG, Volkner/Flint) for everyone
Recipient: Everyone
Title: Change for the Holidays
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
redwoodalchan
Rating: PG
Verse: Games (Generation IV- Sinnoh)
Characters: Volkner and Flint
Summary: Volkner is used to having very little for Sinnoh's Midwinter Festival every year, so when the more well-to-do Flint offers him the chance to celebrate with his family, he accepts in a hurry.
Beta Reader is Tucker's Mayflower.
****
Even in an unusually magical region like Sinnoh, the Midwinter Festival stood out as among the most magical times of the entire year. The festival, which spanned an entire week, included various religious services, rituals, parades, and special meals, all designed to thank the gods for a good harvest in the fall and to pray for an easy winter and the quick arrival of spring. Of course, children knew very little of this—all they knew was that it provided an opportunity to take a week off from school, decorate the house with various good-luck charms, eat some of the most delicious foods they would have all year, and, if they had been good, get little presents. And, of course, there was the end of the holiday, in which Sinnohvians all over lit up the dark sky with dozens of fireworks.
But for Volkner Denzi, it was considerably harder than for most. He and his mother lived in one of the poorest districts of Sunyshore City. They had no family to visit them, and no money to give each other or anyone else gifts. All his mother had in the way of decorations were a few special festival charms, which she had been holding onto since forever; she wouldn't say where she had gotten them from. Still, for years the two of them made the best of the holidays. His mother would take him to the temple and to the parades, bundled up in the fur of a Floatzel she and her pokemon had killed themselves. The two of them would watch the fireworks together from on top of their apartment building, and since they couldn't afford much electricity, she would cook special foods using a solar oven she constructed herself, and heat the house similarly. The families in the adjacent apartments would join them and they would all pool their funds to assemble a proper holiday meal, and the children would make gifts out of sticks, rocks, pine cones, and other wreckage they found on the ground. And when Volkner was three, four, and five, this worked out just fine.
But as he got older and started school, he couldn't help but be jealous of the other kids who were better off than he was. Those kids got to eat exotic treats like oranges and chocolate, got small amounts of money or toys as gifts every year, and got to enjoy a nice warm home, heated by a roaring fire rather than a simple excess of bodies. At school he managed to befriend a rich boy, Cyrus Akagi, who gave him an orange for the holiday out of pity; and Volkner took the orange home, where he opened it and distributed the wedges among the children after the first holiday meal. But that friendship fell apart just before Cyrus graduated and moved on to junior high school, thus leaving Volkner, once again, without oranges. Volkner really wished that he could trade places with Cyrus. He was sure that Cyrus got to have yummy food and great presents every year.
It was in junior high school that Volkner first met Flint Ohbahito, who had moved to Sunyshore with his family. He was the strangest boy Volkner had ever seen, with masses of curly red hair and a vivacious personality that Volkner couldn't help but be intimidated by. Yet at the same time, Volkner couldn't help but be fascinated by him—this boy with so much energy and confidence. He walked alone to and from school every day, and rarely spoke to any of the other kids for more than a few moments; but he didn't seem bothered by this at all.
Then one day, as Volkner was being harassed by the school bullies again, Flint came to his aid. Using his Chimchar and Volkner's Shinx, the two boys were able to fend off the bullies. “T-thank you so much,” Volkner stammered, too embarrassed in his own gratitude to look Flint in the eye.
“It was nothing,” said Flint, who winked at Volkner as he left the blond boy to his own devices. The next day, Flint invited Volkner to sit with him at lunch; and before too long they were inseparable. Volkner had never remembered feeling as happy as he did when he and Flint were together. Flint helped Volkner train his pokemon, and Volkner, in return, helped Flint with his homework.
That year, when the Midwinter Festival approached, Flint invited Volkner over to his house for the first night. “You sure about this?” asked Volkner.
“Sure I'm sure!” said Flint cheerfully. “My family's got tons of great stuff planned. We've got real nice food and decorations and games and everything!”
Volkner accepted the invitation at once, and for all the rest of the weeks leading up to the Midwinter Festival, he lost himself in fantasies of what it would be like to celebrate with a family who actually had money and relatives, and all the great things that so many of the other kids took for granted.
Flint warned Volkner about his relatives. “They're a bit crazy,” he said. “Fun, but crazy. Just be on your guard.”
The more Volkner thought about it, the more he realized that he would need a present to bring to Flint's house. Unfortunately, he had no money to buy a present. Desperate not to go to Flint's party empty-handed, he went to the small workshop where he tinkered with his gadgets and scraps, and over the next couple of days he assembled a small windup robot. For extra measure, he painted a few yellow lightning bolts and red fireballs on the robot's front.
The day of the Midwinter Festival opening, Volkner took his best outfit to school with him as well as a spare blanket to sleep on and his present for Flint's family, and walked back home from school with Flint. Flint's family lived in a small, cream-colored house up in one of Sunyshore's hillier neighborhoods. The first thing Volkner noticed was how lavishly-decorated the house was: wreaths of pine and yew branches and streamers of dried fruits, as well as gaily-colored good-luck charms made from pokemon skins and feathers, hung from the gables. As he stepped up to the door with Flint, Volkner couldn't help but feel nervous about meeting the new people.
As soon as Volkner crept inside and began removing his shoes, a short older woman with flaming-red hair ran up to the two of them, carrying a boy no older than three or four whose red hair had a pronounced yellow streak in it. “Flint!” the woman shouted. “So good to have you back here. The guests have already started to arrive.” She turned to Volkner. “Is this your friend?”
“Oh, ah, yeah,” said Flint, slapping Volkner on the back. “This is my friend I was telling you about, Volker Denzi.” He turned to Volkner. “Volkner, this is my mom and my brother Buck.”
Volkner bowed. “It's nice to meet you,” he said. “Thank you so much for having me.”
“Yes, yes, it was our pleasure,” said Flint's mother impatiently. “You two boys best go get changed right now.”
“Right away, Mom,” said Flint cheerfully, strutting off down one of the corridors leading away from the entrance hall. “Come on, Volkner; I'll show you my room. We can get changed in there.”
Volkner just nodded, not at all sure how to respond. He followed Flint to a very messy room, with clothes and toys strewn all over the floor. Flint closed the door, and then the two boys turned away from one another and began tearing off their school uniforms and throwing on their suits, as thoughts of each other naked popped unbidden into their heads. Slowly but surely, Volkner rotated his head ever so slightly, to catch a glimpse of Flint with his shirt unbuttoned. He felt his face get warm as he found himself filled with the sudden urge to drink in Flint's form as he removed his clothes. At that very moment, Flint's eyes met his own, but just as quickly he turned away. Volkner blushed red as a beet and shook his head to clear it. This was no time to think of such foolish things.
Once they finished getting changed, Volkner followed Flint down the corridor into the living room, which already contained two families and an older couple, none of whom Volkner recognized. “Where's your mom?” he asked.
“Oh, she's in the kitchen with Buck, preparing the pancakes,” said Flint casually. “Thank the gods she's out of the way for awhile,” he muttered under his breath.
“Pancakes?” said Volkner.
“Buckwheat pancakes,” Flint clarified. “They're Buck's favorite so we eat them every chance we get.”
Just then, the families which, had been milling in the living room, came up to the two boys. “Hey, everyone!” said Flint cheerily. “This is my new friend Volkner!”
Volkner just bowed quickly. “It's nice to meet you all.”
“Flint!” The voice of Flint's mother rang across the room. “Come help me in the kitchen right now!”
“R-right away, Mom!” Flint shouted back. He turned apologetically to Volkner. “I gotta go deal with Mom. You just... keep my relatives busy. Thanks.” With that, he disappeared into the kitchen after his mom.
Volkner felt his face growing hot with embarrassment, having no idea what to say to these strange people. “Ah... hi,” he said. “I'm Flint's friend from school.”
One by one, the family members introduced themselves to him. Flint had two pairs of aunts and uncles, one of which had two children, both in high school; and one of which had just one child who was only just now learning to walk. Volkner also met Flint's maternal grandparents; his paternal grandparents were apparently dead. “Where's Flint's dad?” asked Volkner.
“Oh, he should be home soon,” said one of Flint's aunts. “He's a train conductor so he's always home a little late.”
Volkner just nodded, his insides constricting with jealousy at the thought of having an actual father. Volkner had never known his father, and his mother didn't seem to have a high opinion of him—every time he brought up his father she would curtly change the subject. Volkner knew now why his mother had been so young when he was born, and he couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, had she been a little older and more financially secure, this kind of life could have been his as well as Flint's.
His thoughts were interrupted as Flint emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray loaded with glasses of spiced mead made from Combee honey. Volkner and the rest of the kids hung back as all the adults over age twenty helped themselves to the glasses. Volkner remembered the first time is mother had offered him a taste of spiced mead. He had hated it, but now he wondered if this wouldn't taste better? After all, this was good mead—not the cheap kind that his mother and her friends pooled their funds every year to be able to afford. As the adults drank, two more families arrived, with their own crews of kids, all of whom went to join the already-established cousins. Volkner gulped nervously as he introduced himself to them one by one. “I'm a friend of Flint's from school,” he explained.
“That outfit of yours looks a bit shabby,” commented one of Flint's female cousins.
“Yeah, well... Mom and I don't have much money,” Volkner grumbled.
“Oh, that's too bad,” was the only reply.
Her brother shot her a look. “Honestly, Mina, is that any way to speak to the first school friend Flint's brought home to celebrate with us?” He turned to Volkner. “You'll have to excuse my sister—she's fashionable but sometimes she forgets that not everyone is.”
Volkner barely had time to respond to that before a small boy, no older than three or four, toddled up to him and started tugging at his shirt. “Hi!” he said. “You wanna play with me?”
Volkner had some experience dealing with younger children in the families of his mother's friends. He reached out his hand to the child, who took it and began to jump. The other cousins giggled, and Volkner forced himself to lift the corners of his mouth as self-consciousness set in.
By the time the adults had finished their mead, the door opened one final time, and a tall, burly man with red hair entered. “I'm home!” he announced. “What'd I miss?”
“Dad!” Flint rushed from the kitchen with Buck. “You just missed out on the mead!”
Flint's father smiled. “That's okay; I can have some later.” As he shuffled over to the sofa to sit down, his attention turned to Volkner. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Oh, I forgot to introduce you two!” said Flint, rushing over to his dad's side. “This is my friend from school, Volkner Denzi.”
“Oh, so it is,” said Flint's father, getting up and shaking Volkner's hand before patting him on the back. “Flint's told me so much about you. You keeping my boy outta trouble?”
Volkner nodded. “I... I've been trying, sir,” he said.
“FLINT!” The voice of Flint's mother came from the kitchen again. “You and Buck come help me serve these cakes!”
“Coming, Mom!” Flint and Buck shouted at the same time, as they ran back into the kitchen, emerging shortly thereafter with cakes encrusted with sesame seeds. As they ate, Flint's relatives continued to talk to Volkner. “What kind of pokemon do you have?” asked Flint's father.
“I have a Shinx,” said Volkner, producing his pokeball and opening it.
“That's pretty sweet,” said one of Flint's teenage cousins. “What can he do?”
“He can use Spark now,” said Volkner, petting Shinx, who purred happily. “It took awhile but he got there. I think he might be evolving soon.”
Volkner couldn't remember the last time he had received as much attention as he did then. All of Flint's relatives wanted to talk to him—wanted to know about his pokemon, his home life, and most importantly, what he had done to befriend Flint. “I... ah... he just helped me out one day, and we've been friends ever since,” Volkner explained. “I don't know how else to describe it.”
However, in due time, Flint's mother called everyone to the table for dinner, and Volkner was greatly relieved to have a reprieve from being constantly interviewed by Flint's curious relatives. He sat next to Flint at the dinner table, laden with all the foods he remembered and then some: meat from a pokemon native to Mount Coronet (in this case, sausages made with Clefairy meat and blood), mashed winter vegetables with gravy, pickled cucumbers, tomatoes, and peppers, chutney made from summer fruits, buckwheat pancakes (some of the best Volkner had ever eaten) and—most intriguingly at all—oranges, and special toffees wrapped in waxed paper. Volkner had begun salivating the moment he sat down, but he steadfastly bowed his head as Flint's mother recited the prayer that marked the opening of the Midwinter Festival, thanking the gods for a good year and asking for an easy winter, as well as the usual prayer designed to pay respects to the pokemon who gave up their lives for the meal. After the prayers were over, everyone dug into their favorite dishes, with Volkner grabbing some of everything. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten so well. The pokemon sat on the floor, eating bowls of Clefairy meat mixed with nuts, berries, and fat if they were meat-eaters, or spiced mashed vegetables with orange if they were vegetarians. Several of the children also fed them bits from their plates, when their parents weren't looking.
After dinner was over, Flint and his relatives exchanged little presents, with Flint and the rest of the kids over the age of ten getting small amounts of money to spend. Volkner watched sadly as the family members handed each other the money, before he remembered the gift he had brought for the family. “Flint!” he called. “I have something for you!”
“Ooh! What is it?” said Flint, as he approached Volkner. Volkner pressed his gift into Flint's hand.
“It's not much,” he admitted as Flint unwrapped the parcel. “But I had to give you something.”
As Flint unwrapped the toy robot, his face turned bright red. “Wow... Volkner, this... this is really something else,” Flint murmured breathlessly. What kind of gift was this, anyway? Flint had no use for such a robot—though Buck would like it. It was lopsided, and looked like it was made out of scrap metal, but he was able to get it wound up.
“I made it,” Volkner explained. “I couldn't afford to buy anything so I just gave you what I could put together out of scraps.”
Flint's heart ached as he thought of how poor Volkner must be, to give him a gift he had made from garbage. Why couldn't he have bought him something? How could he possibly repay him for giving him the only kind of gift he could afford to give? Seized by a reckless daring, he grabbed Volkner by the shoulders and drew himself up to him until the boys' lips were just a few millimeters apart. But before Volkner could say anything he released him. “S-sorry,” said Flint, his face contorting in an embarrassed smile and folded his arms behind his back. “I don't know what came over me.”
By that point it was quite late in the evening, and so one by one the holiday guests began to depart. Flint escorted Volkner back to the bus stop, where he would depart for his home. “Thanks for everything,” said Volkner.
“Oh, it was a pleasure,” said Flint. “Come hang out again sometime.”
“I will,” said Volkner. “I promise.”
Title: Change for the Holidays
Author:
redwoodalchan Rating: PG
Verse: Games (Generation IV- Sinnoh)
Characters: Volkner and Flint
Summary: Volkner is used to having very little for Sinnoh's Midwinter Festival every year, so when the more well-to-do Flint offers him the chance to celebrate with his family, he accepts in a hurry.
Beta Reader is Tucker's Mayflower.
****
Even in an unusually magical region like Sinnoh, the Midwinter Festival stood out as among the most magical times of the entire year. The festival, which spanned an entire week, included various religious services, rituals, parades, and special meals, all designed to thank the gods for a good harvest in the fall and to pray for an easy winter and the quick arrival of spring. Of course, children knew very little of this—all they knew was that it provided an opportunity to take a week off from school, decorate the house with various good-luck charms, eat some of the most delicious foods they would have all year, and, if they had been good, get little presents. And, of course, there was the end of the holiday, in which Sinnohvians all over lit up the dark sky with dozens of fireworks.
But for Volkner Denzi, it was considerably harder than for most. He and his mother lived in one of the poorest districts of Sunyshore City. They had no family to visit them, and no money to give each other or anyone else gifts. All his mother had in the way of decorations were a few special festival charms, which she had been holding onto since forever; she wouldn't say where she had gotten them from. Still, for years the two of them made the best of the holidays. His mother would take him to the temple and to the parades, bundled up in the fur of a Floatzel she and her pokemon had killed themselves. The two of them would watch the fireworks together from on top of their apartment building, and since they couldn't afford much electricity, she would cook special foods using a solar oven she constructed herself, and heat the house similarly. The families in the adjacent apartments would join them and they would all pool their funds to assemble a proper holiday meal, and the children would make gifts out of sticks, rocks, pine cones, and other wreckage they found on the ground. And when Volkner was three, four, and five, this worked out just fine.
But as he got older and started school, he couldn't help but be jealous of the other kids who were better off than he was. Those kids got to eat exotic treats like oranges and chocolate, got small amounts of money or toys as gifts every year, and got to enjoy a nice warm home, heated by a roaring fire rather than a simple excess of bodies. At school he managed to befriend a rich boy, Cyrus Akagi, who gave him an orange for the holiday out of pity; and Volkner took the orange home, where he opened it and distributed the wedges among the children after the first holiday meal. But that friendship fell apart just before Cyrus graduated and moved on to junior high school, thus leaving Volkner, once again, without oranges. Volkner really wished that he could trade places with Cyrus. He was sure that Cyrus got to have yummy food and great presents every year.
It was in junior high school that Volkner first met Flint Ohbahito, who had moved to Sunyshore with his family. He was the strangest boy Volkner had ever seen, with masses of curly red hair and a vivacious personality that Volkner couldn't help but be intimidated by. Yet at the same time, Volkner couldn't help but be fascinated by him—this boy with so much energy and confidence. He walked alone to and from school every day, and rarely spoke to any of the other kids for more than a few moments; but he didn't seem bothered by this at all.
Then one day, as Volkner was being harassed by the school bullies again, Flint came to his aid. Using his Chimchar and Volkner's Shinx, the two boys were able to fend off the bullies. “T-thank you so much,” Volkner stammered, too embarrassed in his own gratitude to look Flint in the eye.
“It was nothing,” said Flint, who winked at Volkner as he left the blond boy to his own devices. The next day, Flint invited Volkner to sit with him at lunch; and before too long they were inseparable. Volkner had never remembered feeling as happy as he did when he and Flint were together. Flint helped Volkner train his pokemon, and Volkner, in return, helped Flint with his homework.
That year, when the Midwinter Festival approached, Flint invited Volkner over to his house for the first night. “You sure about this?” asked Volkner.
“Sure I'm sure!” said Flint cheerfully. “My family's got tons of great stuff planned. We've got real nice food and decorations and games and everything!”
Volkner accepted the invitation at once, and for all the rest of the weeks leading up to the Midwinter Festival, he lost himself in fantasies of what it would be like to celebrate with a family who actually had money and relatives, and all the great things that so many of the other kids took for granted.
Flint warned Volkner about his relatives. “They're a bit crazy,” he said. “Fun, but crazy. Just be on your guard.”
The more Volkner thought about it, the more he realized that he would need a present to bring to Flint's house. Unfortunately, he had no money to buy a present. Desperate not to go to Flint's party empty-handed, he went to the small workshop where he tinkered with his gadgets and scraps, and over the next couple of days he assembled a small windup robot. For extra measure, he painted a few yellow lightning bolts and red fireballs on the robot's front.
The day of the Midwinter Festival opening, Volkner took his best outfit to school with him as well as a spare blanket to sleep on and his present for Flint's family, and walked back home from school with Flint. Flint's family lived in a small, cream-colored house up in one of Sunyshore's hillier neighborhoods. The first thing Volkner noticed was how lavishly-decorated the house was: wreaths of pine and yew branches and streamers of dried fruits, as well as gaily-colored good-luck charms made from pokemon skins and feathers, hung from the gables. As he stepped up to the door with Flint, Volkner couldn't help but feel nervous about meeting the new people.
As soon as Volkner crept inside and began removing his shoes, a short older woman with flaming-red hair ran up to the two of them, carrying a boy no older than three or four whose red hair had a pronounced yellow streak in it. “Flint!” the woman shouted. “So good to have you back here. The guests have already started to arrive.” She turned to Volkner. “Is this your friend?”
“Oh, ah, yeah,” said Flint, slapping Volkner on the back. “This is my friend I was telling you about, Volker Denzi.” He turned to Volkner. “Volkner, this is my mom and my brother Buck.”
Volkner bowed. “It's nice to meet you,” he said. “Thank you so much for having me.”
“Yes, yes, it was our pleasure,” said Flint's mother impatiently. “You two boys best go get changed right now.”
“Right away, Mom,” said Flint cheerfully, strutting off down one of the corridors leading away from the entrance hall. “Come on, Volkner; I'll show you my room. We can get changed in there.”
Volkner just nodded, not at all sure how to respond. He followed Flint to a very messy room, with clothes and toys strewn all over the floor. Flint closed the door, and then the two boys turned away from one another and began tearing off their school uniforms and throwing on their suits, as thoughts of each other naked popped unbidden into their heads. Slowly but surely, Volkner rotated his head ever so slightly, to catch a glimpse of Flint with his shirt unbuttoned. He felt his face get warm as he found himself filled with the sudden urge to drink in Flint's form as he removed his clothes. At that very moment, Flint's eyes met his own, but just as quickly he turned away. Volkner blushed red as a beet and shook his head to clear it. This was no time to think of such foolish things.
Once they finished getting changed, Volkner followed Flint down the corridor into the living room, which already contained two families and an older couple, none of whom Volkner recognized. “Where's your mom?” he asked.
“Oh, she's in the kitchen with Buck, preparing the pancakes,” said Flint casually. “Thank the gods she's out of the way for awhile,” he muttered under his breath.
“Pancakes?” said Volkner.
“Buckwheat pancakes,” Flint clarified. “They're Buck's favorite so we eat them every chance we get.”
Just then, the families which, had been milling in the living room, came up to the two boys. “Hey, everyone!” said Flint cheerily. “This is my new friend Volkner!”
Volkner just bowed quickly. “It's nice to meet you all.”
“Flint!” The voice of Flint's mother rang across the room. “Come help me in the kitchen right now!”
“R-right away, Mom!” Flint shouted back. He turned apologetically to Volkner. “I gotta go deal with Mom. You just... keep my relatives busy. Thanks.” With that, he disappeared into the kitchen after his mom.
Volkner felt his face growing hot with embarrassment, having no idea what to say to these strange people. “Ah... hi,” he said. “I'm Flint's friend from school.”
One by one, the family members introduced themselves to him. Flint had two pairs of aunts and uncles, one of which had two children, both in high school; and one of which had just one child who was only just now learning to walk. Volkner also met Flint's maternal grandparents; his paternal grandparents were apparently dead. “Where's Flint's dad?” asked Volkner.
“Oh, he should be home soon,” said one of Flint's aunts. “He's a train conductor so he's always home a little late.”
Volkner just nodded, his insides constricting with jealousy at the thought of having an actual father. Volkner had never known his father, and his mother didn't seem to have a high opinion of him—every time he brought up his father she would curtly change the subject. Volkner knew now why his mother had been so young when he was born, and he couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, had she been a little older and more financially secure, this kind of life could have been his as well as Flint's.
His thoughts were interrupted as Flint emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray loaded with glasses of spiced mead made from Combee honey. Volkner and the rest of the kids hung back as all the adults over age twenty helped themselves to the glasses. Volkner remembered the first time is mother had offered him a taste of spiced mead. He had hated it, but now he wondered if this wouldn't taste better? After all, this was good mead—not the cheap kind that his mother and her friends pooled their funds every year to be able to afford. As the adults drank, two more families arrived, with their own crews of kids, all of whom went to join the already-established cousins. Volkner gulped nervously as he introduced himself to them one by one. “I'm a friend of Flint's from school,” he explained.
“That outfit of yours looks a bit shabby,” commented one of Flint's female cousins.
“Yeah, well... Mom and I don't have much money,” Volkner grumbled.
“Oh, that's too bad,” was the only reply.
Her brother shot her a look. “Honestly, Mina, is that any way to speak to the first school friend Flint's brought home to celebrate with us?” He turned to Volkner. “You'll have to excuse my sister—she's fashionable but sometimes she forgets that not everyone is.”
Volkner barely had time to respond to that before a small boy, no older than three or four, toddled up to him and started tugging at his shirt. “Hi!” he said. “You wanna play with me?”
Volkner had some experience dealing with younger children in the families of his mother's friends. He reached out his hand to the child, who took it and began to jump. The other cousins giggled, and Volkner forced himself to lift the corners of his mouth as self-consciousness set in.
By the time the adults had finished their mead, the door opened one final time, and a tall, burly man with red hair entered. “I'm home!” he announced. “What'd I miss?”
“Dad!” Flint rushed from the kitchen with Buck. “You just missed out on the mead!”
Flint's father smiled. “That's okay; I can have some later.” As he shuffled over to the sofa to sit down, his attention turned to Volkner. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Oh, I forgot to introduce you two!” said Flint, rushing over to his dad's side. “This is my friend from school, Volkner Denzi.”
“Oh, so it is,” said Flint's father, getting up and shaking Volkner's hand before patting him on the back. “Flint's told me so much about you. You keeping my boy outta trouble?”
Volkner nodded. “I... I've been trying, sir,” he said.
“FLINT!” The voice of Flint's mother came from the kitchen again. “You and Buck come help me serve these cakes!”
“Coming, Mom!” Flint and Buck shouted at the same time, as they ran back into the kitchen, emerging shortly thereafter with cakes encrusted with sesame seeds. As they ate, Flint's relatives continued to talk to Volkner. “What kind of pokemon do you have?” asked Flint's father.
“I have a Shinx,” said Volkner, producing his pokeball and opening it.
“That's pretty sweet,” said one of Flint's teenage cousins. “What can he do?”
“He can use Spark now,” said Volkner, petting Shinx, who purred happily. “It took awhile but he got there. I think he might be evolving soon.”
Volkner couldn't remember the last time he had received as much attention as he did then. All of Flint's relatives wanted to talk to him—wanted to know about his pokemon, his home life, and most importantly, what he had done to befriend Flint. “I... ah... he just helped me out one day, and we've been friends ever since,” Volkner explained. “I don't know how else to describe it.”
However, in due time, Flint's mother called everyone to the table for dinner, and Volkner was greatly relieved to have a reprieve from being constantly interviewed by Flint's curious relatives. He sat next to Flint at the dinner table, laden with all the foods he remembered and then some: meat from a pokemon native to Mount Coronet (in this case, sausages made with Clefairy meat and blood), mashed winter vegetables with gravy, pickled cucumbers, tomatoes, and peppers, chutney made from summer fruits, buckwheat pancakes (some of the best Volkner had ever eaten) and—most intriguingly at all—oranges, and special toffees wrapped in waxed paper. Volkner had begun salivating the moment he sat down, but he steadfastly bowed his head as Flint's mother recited the prayer that marked the opening of the Midwinter Festival, thanking the gods for a good year and asking for an easy winter, as well as the usual prayer designed to pay respects to the pokemon who gave up their lives for the meal. After the prayers were over, everyone dug into their favorite dishes, with Volkner grabbing some of everything. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten so well. The pokemon sat on the floor, eating bowls of Clefairy meat mixed with nuts, berries, and fat if they were meat-eaters, or spiced mashed vegetables with orange if they were vegetarians. Several of the children also fed them bits from their plates, when their parents weren't looking.
After dinner was over, Flint and his relatives exchanged little presents, with Flint and the rest of the kids over the age of ten getting small amounts of money to spend. Volkner watched sadly as the family members handed each other the money, before he remembered the gift he had brought for the family. “Flint!” he called. “I have something for you!”
“Ooh! What is it?” said Flint, as he approached Volkner. Volkner pressed his gift into Flint's hand.
“It's not much,” he admitted as Flint unwrapped the parcel. “But I had to give you something.”
As Flint unwrapped the toy robot, his face turned bright red. “Wow... Volkner, this... this is really something else,” Flint murmured breathlessly. What kind of gift was this, anyway? Flint had no use for such a robot—though Buck would like it. It was lopsided, and looked like it was made out of scrap metal, but he was able to get it wound up.
“I made it,” Volkner explained. “I couldn't afford to buy anything so I just gave you what I could put together out of scraps.”
Flint's heart ached as he thought of how poor Volkner must be, to give him a gift he had made from garbage. Why couldn't he have bought him something? How could he possibly repay him for giving him the only kind of gift he could afford to give? Seized by a reckless daring, he grabbed Volkner by the shoulders and drew himself up to him until the boys' lips were just a few millimeters apart. But before Volkner could say anything he released him. “S-sorry,” said Flint, his face contorting in an embarrassed smile and folded his arms behind his back. “I don't know what came over me.”
By that point it was quite late in the evening, and so one by one the holiday guests began to depart. Flint escorted Volkner back to the bus stop, where he would depart for his home. “Thanks for everything,” said Volkner.
“Oh, it was a pleasure,” said Flint. “Come hang out again sometime.”
“I will,” said Volkner. “I promise.”
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