#ask-philippe

"Good. I assure you if you even think to 'carry me' anywhere, it'll be the last thing you ever do." The threat doesn't carry much weight. Philippe is the only person he trusts with... well, anything.

He puts his glasses back on his face with a sigh. A couple hours sleep ought to be enough. These papers weren't going to read themselves, and the clients weren't likely to wait, either.

He knows he wouldn't.

The numbers blur together on the paper, and he blinks a few times, trying to make them reassemble themselves. There's a cold sweat beading on his neck and brow that he truly hopes isn't here to stay. He's had six meetings today, extended visits to the battle zone for the last few nights- he had to keep his rank up somehow- and he has these contracts to read over and sign, and his next challenge match for the Royale is supposed to be in barely even ten hours...

He thinks...? What time was it supposed to be, again? Damn it, he can't even keep his thoughts straight anymore! And why is it so damn cold! He's getting pissed off.

“Harmony, wait just one moment,” Philippe said with a concerned frown, putting a hand on the young woman’s shoulder. He hated hearing her talk negative about herself. She was such a brilliant young woman. She was kind, clever, and an excellent trainer. Why did she insist on talking down on herself in this way? “I understand that you don’t want me to acknowledge what you said that day,” Philippe began, meeting Harmony’s eyes seriously, “but please don’t think I’d ever mock you for it. Believe it or not, I actually like you. Quite a bit, actually. You’re a formidable trainer, one that should be respected, as well as feared by those who attempt to hurt you and the ones you care for. You’re a sweet girl too, and you defend the ones you love with a ferocity unlike I’ve ever seen before.” He paused, taking a deep breath and letting it out. “…I don’t think I could have taken those assailants down like you did. You saved Mr. Corbeau’s life. I wouldn’t have commanded my team with the cleverness and creativity that you did yours. I would have fought them with all of my strength… but sometimes, brute strength just isn’t enough. Sometimes, a sharp mind is what’s needed, and you’ve got that in droves.” He set the sweets to the side, pulling Harmony into a hug. “Please don’t ever feel like you’re lesser than for loving others with such a Pyroar’s heart. Thank you for being the Syndicate’s secret weapon. I don’t know if Mr. Corbeau would be alive today if it wasn’t for you.”

He idly listens to the muffled conversation in the next room, not particularly paying much attention to his work.

The ultra-spicy Fire Blast Curry from the café sits steaming on the table as though taunting him. It won't be warm for long. In fact, if they return with it, it would almost certainly be thrown away.

There's a certain voice in his head, screaming the same four words at him.

DO NOT WASTE FOOD.

... It sounds suspiciously like his younger self- who once spent many sleepless nights huddled in alleyways with Venipede for warmth, so hungry it hurt.

He immediately drowns that tiny voice in his mind, but it continues.

Well... he should at least try it. He scoops up a small spoonful of the vegetables, rice, and red-coloured sauce, tasting it.

...

...

"!"

Philippe paused, color rising in his cheeks. How could she say such a thing unironically? She and Urbain had done nearly all of the work to save Lumiose from Ange! What had Philippe done? Not much. “You flatter me, but… I don’t deserve such a title,” Philippe finally replied. “The title belongs to you and Urbain. Everyone else was just your support. I’m proud to have made a difference in that situation, but… the honor for taking Ange done is not mine.”

"Do you take me for the kind of fool that gives meaningless praise?" Her words were accusatory in nature but there was no malice in her expression or tone. Far from anger, it saddened her that he failed to see the heroicism in his actions that day.