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“I will take care of them. You can rest easy. Their lives will be gone in a blink of an eye to me. But this is the least I can do for you and them.”
That was the promise Lysandre had made almost a year ago. So much changed so quickly.
It was raining against the old walls of Hotel Z. L stood in the kitchen, laboring over a perfect coffee for breakfast. To accompany the bitter taste would be some pancakes, buried under a generous helping of fruit. Fruit was good for the children. They were still as such, even if they were the new heroes of Kalos. L had to treat them as both. With kindness and respect in equal measure, but also with a deal of compassion.
Thin hands wrapped around his waist. L jumped a little. The professor laughed.
“oop- I didn’t think you’d be scared my love.”
“It’s alright my dear.” L sighs. “… you meant no harm… the streets have only made my nerves strung tight.”
Sycamore sighs. “… You’re awake early today.” He nuzzles into his back sleepily. “I was wondering where you were.”
“Ah. I’m making breakfast. I know Urbain mentioned they were going on… some kind of mission this morning.” L replies. “And I know you have some research to get done. I figured some coffee and food would do you both well.”
“I suppose it would.” Sycamore sighs. “They should be waking up soon. I know it’s their hotel but maybe we should enforce some kind of sleep schedule for them.”
“Oh?” L shook his head. “They’re the heroes of Kalos. If they want to stay up until the breaking of dawn competing in their infinite Royale, so be it.”
“It’s not good for them.” Sycamore sighs. “Growing kids need sleep. I never thought I would be a parent.”
L scoffs. “You think you’re surprised. I think I am worse off. At least you’ve been helping young trainers in the past. I am only working off what I was raised, and knowing how I was raised wrong.”
“I didn’t think you still had those memories.” Sycamore says.
“… My memories have been….creeping back the longer I stay here.” L says. “I don’t know why.”
“I imagine it’s because you’re safer here. Your mind can actually rest and recover from some of the wounds dealt to it.” Sycamore hypothesized. “Now you don’t have to fight for survival every day.”
“… it certainly is a change of pace.” L sighs, he begins plating the meal.
“You’re starting to look better too.” Sycamore hums. “Not so thin and frail. You’ll have to take care of this body, you’re going to have it a long time.”
“I already feel impossibly old.” L breathes. “And somewhat senile. I think I burned these slightly.”
“You’re alright.” Sycamore smiles. “Cooking is a bit hard.”
“I’ve never really done it before you know.” L admits. “I was… always attended to by others… or finding what I could in the trash.”
“Sometimes its less about skill and more about common sense.” Sycamore tries to encourage him. “Urbain might be a better cook but he actively chooses to make culinary monstrosities.”
“I’m actually rather fond of the croissant curry.” L murmurs.
Sycamore loosens his sappy affectionate grip.
“… It’s filling.” L defends. “And warm. It’s not something I’ve really had before. Not when everything was so perfect and delicately portioned or after when everything was cold and rotten.”
“… My love I assure you there are better things that are warm and filling.” Sycamore sighs, letting go to press a palm to his head. “Maybe I should order you a pizza or we should go for ramen…”
“But the curry is healthier.” L points out. He sees an exasperated confliction in is partner’s eyes. “And I should take care of this body after all.”
“You are tormenting me my dear.” Sycamore covers his face with his hands but can’t hide a slight smile. “Your head injuries must be far worse than what I initially imagined.”
“Indeed.” L smiles back. “I have embraced the wretched depths of culinary depravity.”
“That’s it. We will attend cooking lessons together.” Sycamore demands. “These children will have healthy and sensible food.”
“Ah.” L stares out the window. The cold and uncaring world outside of it was framed in the dreary grey rain. “… I am… unsure. But…I think it would be….good. For all of us.”
Sycamore blinks, somewhat surprised he had taken up the offer. L had been somewhat of a ghost, even while recovering and taking care of the hotel. He had not expressed a desire to leave the vicinity of it. Only occasionally lounging on the roof or the small courtyard and not straying far beyond it.
“You would?”
“With you… yes.” L murmurs. “… I… my parents never cooked for me. I recall. It was always… some other chef or nanny or chaperone. I don’t know how… to be a parent. I didn’t really have a plan when I promised AZ to take care of them. But I know….it was one of the mistakes they made. Being so… cold and distant. They never took care of me. Only ordered others to.”
“… you never really talked about them much… or your upbringing.” Sycamore murmurs. “It sounds so different from my own.”
“… yes. You and most of everyone.” L murmurs. “I was raised more akin to a product than a person. My home was an assembly line of nannies and tutors, and teachers. Even my play dates were political affairs with the children of other wealthy and powerful families. I was an empty glass, one to be filled with beliefs and convictions of my parents and our special caste. Contempt for the unclean and misfortunate, and an unwavering self-conviction of our own surely earned status.”
“… Sounds like you didn’t take to those ideas well.” Sycamore hums. “You didn’t let them rule you.”
“No.” L shook his head. “… I saw that my place was… sheer happenstance. Luckily. I wanted to even the playing field… for everyone. No matter the cost.”
There’s a pause between them.
“Sometimes I wonder if I would have done less evil if I had simply taken to my lot in life. Continued the exploitation of those beneath me and acted as if it was my divine right that I was born into wealth.” L breathes. “… I might’ve hurt less people.”
“No.” Sycamore comforts, reaching out his arm to his. “… don’t spiral. Not today. You did the best you could. What you thought was best.”
L blinked hard, a slight shake to his hands. Rain continues to pelt against the glass windows of the old building, cold and relentless. It wasn’t long ago that he was lost in it, no shelter, no home, hiding under whatever bridge he could find as the heat was sapped from his bones.
“… Yes. I shouldn’t… dwell on it.” He swallows his fears, trying to push the incoming tidal wave of dark thoughts away. “What of your childhood? Maybe you’ve learned how to actually raise these little rascals properly.”
Sycamore understands. To distract him. To prevent this spiral.
“Ah. Well. I grew up in the countryside. Not far from Lumiose. As a child I always had such a fascination with the city.” He hums “My parents forbid me from exploring it. So I often snuck out to go explore it.”
“Ah.” L smiled. “The allure of the forbidden.”
Sycamore nods. “They were not always the kindest of people. I often found their discipline rather harsh… I knew I could never lay my hands on anyone I called my child.”
“Quite frankly.” L shrugs. “I doubt we could successfully ground them without Flotte objecting.”
“She is rather protective of them.” Sycamore smiles “Maybe we are over thinking such things.”
“Prehaps.” L admits. “I admit… my search in doing things… right this time is driving me mad.”
“It’s okay.” Sycamore assures him.
“I hardly deserve a second chance- let alone one like this. A roof over my head and surrounded by people who care about me-“
“L” Sycamore tries to interrupt him.
“You taking me back and being apart of… a- a family..”
“My dear…” Sycamore pulls him down by the collar of his shirt. “Whatever happens… you do deserve this. A second chance. And I know you’re afraid. But I know you won’t waste it.”
L held him close. “Forgive me… I had… a lapse in composure.”
“It’s alright.” Sycamore assures him. “Though I think I hear the elevator running.”
L sighs, straightening himself out as the elevator dings. Naveen, Lida, and Urbain disembark. Floette floats by them, still looking a little sleepy. Zygarde, in its 10% form bolts from the elevator in a beeline towards L. He barely manages to intercept the dog.
“Ah. My friend! You seem excited for today.” L smiles, the dog Pokémon licks his face.
“Looks we’ll need to work hard to tire out Zygarde.” Naveen sighs.
“Then there’s no time to rest- we have all sorts of people to help.” Urbain grins. “And it seems like Zygarde knows it too! Let’s get started!”
“Wait.” Professor Sycamore started, the children and Pokémon that were bolting towards the door froze.
“L has taken some time out of his morning to make you all a healthy breakfast.” Sycamore smiles. “It would be respectful if all of you ate it.”
“Wait are those pancakes?” Lida smiles. “Those look sooo good.”
“They look kinda burnt.” Naveen murmurs, receiving a not at all subtle jab from Lida. “I mean thanks! They look great!”
Floette seemed somewhat relieved as it helped L and Sycamore set the table for breakfast. It was clearly more used to slower mornings with AZ. Once everyone was seated, L rewards the little fairy with a thimble of milk and cinnamon.
“Floette really seems to like you Mr. L.” Lida smiles.
“Please, just L is fine.” He responds, as he passes out cups of coffee to the others. “Here. This is a slightly lighter roast. It tends to be more palatable to younger tastebuds. Fairy types are naturally friendly and agreeable. I’m not surprised we get along.”
“Yeah but Floette is really picky.” Urbain says. “She doesn’t get along with a lot of people.”
“You mean trigger happy.” Naveen corrects. “Lida had a bad loss yesterday and Floette nearly vaporized the trainer responsible.”
“Why you gotta be telling them about my losses?” Lida frowns.
Floette sipped at her thimble elegantly.
“She is well over 3,000 years old.” L muses. “I imagine she has a very limited supply of patience.”
“I think she just likes blowing things up.” Naveen shrugs.
“The coffee is really good.” Urbain hums. “It’s just like the what they have at café Nouveau.”
“I did teach them both how to prepare coffee correctly.” L says. There’s a bit of a silence. It was hard for the young ones to reconcile with L’s past sometimes. They had been mere toddlers when their world was upheaved. Everyone cried out in terror and fear as the world threatened to die. It scarred them. A strange childhood nightmare, and now they were dining and living with the boogeyman responsible for it. Someone who had only ever been spoken of with terror and disgust.
“Maybe I could teach you as well Urbain.” L offered. “You have an advanced pallet for one your age.”
Sycamore and Naveen share a glance, skeptical of anything good that would come of this culinary partnership.
“I guess I’ll have to learn!” Urbain nods. “Well, it’s about time we head out!”
“Please.” L requests. “Stay safe out there. It’s been raining all night.”
“And for the love of everything please be back at a reasonable hour.” Sycamore pleaded.
L wrapped his arm around Sycamore’s waist as the adventurers began yet another day of discovery. His old heart soared as the promise of a new day was fulfilled. A second chance for himself. A family to hold close.
“… Now… about those cooking classes…”