@experthiese came to comfort:
"Let's put aside mortality for a moment. Just... pretend with me, that the idea of being good or bad doesn't exist."
Word travels fast through Lupin's web, and it appears he, too, has heard about Ree's little... outburst, earlier. He can't say he blames them. Accepting that people are biased against you is a tough pill to swallow, and it's understandable that a kid so young and unprepared for these grand, sweeping revelations would get overwhelmed by carrying this constant weight.
There's the sudden click of his lighter, bathing his face (and the end of his cigarette) in a warm, orange glow.
"You're right that some people are never gonna accept you. Even if you were to renounce Skull tomorrow, the mere fact that you were affiliated with them is enough to lock you out of their good graces forever. You could defeat every Trainer in the world and start rubbing shoulders with all four Tapus, and it won't mean a damn thing to them. You'll always be a scrappy little punk from a cursed town, holding a title that should be reserved for good, upstanding members of society. Like their kids."
Lupin takes no pleasure in reiterating the harsh truth, but he's never been one for fluffy, meaningless comfort. He pauses just long enough to blow out a series of smoke rings, each one smaller than the last.
"But lemme ask you this: does it matter? Their respect is already lost, torn to pieces and scattered to the wind, and yet here you are, upsetting yourself over not being able to collect all the pieces? C'mon. Say fuck 'em and move on. So what if you're a a scrappy little punk from a cursed town? You're still Champion."
They’ve been trying really, really hard not to think about it anymore.
Sure, they had an outburst. A tantrum that everyone and their mother heard. That people had come to coddle and comfort them from, because surely, Ree shouldn’t see themself that way.
Mr Lu is one of the only people that gets it. They’re comforted by his direct comments, cutting to the very core of the issue. Not treating them with kid gloves or as if they’re so fragile they’d break.
(besides, Ree is already pretty shattered anyway, right? They always have been as far as they can remember.)
They had gone out in the rain to cool off after assuring everyone that they were fine, and sort of … stayed like this. AC is cuddled in their lap, and their wurmple is perched on their shoulder. Ree scrunches their nose when Lupin lights his cigarette but doesn’t make any attempt to tell him to put it out.
“It doesn’t matter. But part of me wishes it did.
I don’… I know that the high and mighty of Alola think I’m a fluke. I've read the newspaper opinions. For every person that was cheering for me, there was another that was hating on me.
I got thick skin. Most of the time it don’t bother me. I just laugh at them an’ tell em to kiss my ass on their way out. But sometimes … I wish I cared more. You know?”
They crave the acceptance. Even though they know they’ll never get it. Ree blows out an exhale and looks up at the sky. The rain comes down with a pattern that is the only constant that they’ve ever known.
“I know that I’ll be fine. That even if I they think I’m bad,” (even they’re right), “I still earned my place here.”
