#cinnablaine

Brock let out an over-dramatic sigh as he flopped down on the steps of Indigo Plateau and stared at the blue cloudless sky. He was supposed to be waiting for an experienced gym leader to come and show him around. He was supposed to be taught everything about being one of Kanto’s finest by one of Kanto’s finest. 

If this had been even a year ago, Brock would have been ecstatic about being chosen as the new gym leader. It was a dream come true! Unfortunately this dream came with some side-effects. For one, Brock and all of his siblings were essentially orphans now. Whoop-de-doo. Add that to the fact that, at the tender age of twelve, the young man had to take care of a giant family and manage a gym all on his own. 

Only winter’s silence managed to consume the island.

But Fire just happened to disturb this “peace,” suddenly sputtering when tiny glowing embers hit his cheeks. He shook his head, something clinking in his backpack as he collected himself. The trainer looked up at his Talonflame; he arched a brow, but a smile assured his busy Pokemon that he wasn’t at all upset.

“Seriously, Talonflame, I’m okay! It’s really not that cold.” They weren’t flying too high, actually. Fire’s legs dangled just a couple of yards above the water’s surface. “We’re almost there anyway.”

He couldn’t help but feel a little relieved when his feet finally hit the ground. He wasn’t used to traveling with his Talonflame-- and the bird felt just as awkward, of course. Fire was accustomed to Charizard’s warm and contoured back (deserving of a break); and Talonflame, other Pokemon in its grip. Not its trainer. Luckily the trip was short for the both of them. Fire rolled his wrists a bit before he went to work, eyeing his Flying Pokemon as he took off his backpack. It nipped at its wings, embers still emerging from its feathers. The bird looked to him curiously, and Fire took it as nothing, thanking his friend before returning it to its PokeBall.

Kneeling, the brunet quickly unzipped the bag to expose a pack of glass bottles and set those on the ground next to him. Then he fetched his PokeGear. While he was diligent, his thoughts were impatient, already seeking the aged man whose name flashed on the small screen.

Can’t hide from me, old man. With sudden triumph, he pressed the call button.

The wait was never too long; the young man was always patient when it came to him.

The island's roads were empty and rather dark. Fire would say the same for Cinnabar’s Gym if he wasn’t a familiar. He stood before the double doors, drinks in one hand and a ringing phone in the other.

Always before the last.