Yours Truly, Kline

clothes shopping – (day one.)

One of the first things that you decided when it had finally, totally, completely sunk in that Volo had also made it to the present day, was that he desperately needed new clothes.

He couldn’t be walking around in a kimono during winter. The weather had just started turning icy. Besides that, it was clear from the moment he’d appeared beside you that people were unfortunately intrigued by him. You had too many thoughts about why, although you tried to disregard them. It was hard to neglect just how attractive Volo was though, and that he stood quite obviously a head above most others. You’d also lent him an overcoat so that he could accompany you outdoors, but it didn’t fit him properly, and that only worsened the staring.

Then, there were the comments as well.

A group of college students passing by spent much too long gaping at Volo. You even heard one of them ask if he was some kind of cosplayer. Another was raising their phone for a photo, and that was when you tugged Volo away.

If you weren’t in such a rush to find suitable clothes so your lover wouldn’t freeze, you might’ve turned back around and snapped at them, but you had more important things on your mind. Like how you’d just been reminded that Volo would probably need a phone, too.

“Ho-oh’s tailfeathers,” you mumbled the curse under your breath.

Tightening your grip on Volo’s hand, you leaned in closer to him and ignored how he blinked back at the students in unabashed confusion.

“I will say,” Volo began as he threaded his fingers through yours, “I’m quite curious to know what a ‘cosplayer’ is.”

You were too busy watching the crosswalk light to humor him, however. “See? This is a crosswalk light. When it’s red, that means we can’t cross, but when it turns green, it means we can go. The flashing numbers mean how long we have before we can’t cross again.”

Volo nodded, keeping pace with you as you hurried down the street. There were plenty of things he didn’t yet understand about your modern world, but he was doing his best to remember all of them, at least.

“Oh, and,” you said with a start, when you made it to the other side, “I’ll explain what a cosplayer is some other time.”

“Perhaps it’s not something you need to worry about at all,” answered Volo immediately, his brows furrowing. He’d noticed that you were on-edge. It was obvious that his presence was concerning you to the point where you were stressing yourself out.

You shook your head. A knowing smile flitted onto your lips, despite how anxious you seemed. “Everything about you—whatever’s on your mind, whatever you want—that’s all I think about. You’re bound to have more questions anyway, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“We all know what happens when you have unanswered questions,” you laughed shortly, some amount of your anxiety melting away when you saw him huff and roll his eye at you.

“You’re quite unfair, my love.”

“And you’re not?”

However, you were unprepared for the smirk he gave you then, followed by the swift peck to your forehead.

Volo chuckled at your startled reaction. “Hm, I suppose I am.”

“I’ll get you for that one,” you promised him as you harrumphed. “But later.”

Without waiting for him to reply (you did hear him laugh), you headed into the department store. There was still plenty for you to do, after all.

The doors whirred shut behind the both of you. The warmth of the heater at the entrance was certainly welcome, and instinctively, you gathered Volo’s cold hand between yours, rubbing it slowly. He’d been preoccupied with the splendor of the building, but noticing what you were doing, he turned to you, a gentle smile on his face. Looking at him with a similar, tender expression, you left a kiss upon his fingertips, then dropped your linked hands back to your side.

Volo squeezed your hand. You squeezed his in reply.

Then, squaring your shoulders as if you’d just received a much needed burst of energy, you announced, “Okay. Let’s get you some new clothes.”

While you rode the escalator up a few floors, you explained what the machine was, what to expect when buying clothes, and that you were lucky you were visiting during early afternoon on a weekday. Fewer people were about, and you didn’t have to deal with fighting crowds of shoppers like on weekends.

Volo seemed amused by your final point, especially after you’d likened it to the days when Anthe released a new line of clothes. It was a bit nostalgic though, to think of the time now past you both, but Volo was just glad that you were with him now.

He was pondering the memory, nearly lost in his own musings, until you told him that you’d reached the boutique floor.

With another word of encouragement, you smiled at him again—really, all Volo needed was you, and oh, your smile, how that made him practically forget where he was—and walked toward the storefront.

An employee, dressed in a trimmed suit, bowed and greeted you both as you approached. However, when he straightened upright again, you saw his eyes widen, and one of his hands nearly lifted to cover his face.

“Oh my goodness,” he said, shocked, whether by Volo’s mismatched clothes or the fact that he was alarmingly handsome, you didn’t know.

Hesitantly, you waved at him before urging Volo inside the boutique. You wanted to pretend as if you hadn’t really been there at all.

After sequestering yourselves at the back of the store, you finally breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe the staff had deduced you could manage without any of their help, as they left you alone where you were. It was better if you avoided any questions, even those unspoken, and simply focused on Volo.

He was still holding your hand. He was also regarding you with a mixture of worry and kindness, so much so that your heart trembled.

You looked away, feeling an inexplicable nervousness, as if you were once again surreptitiously harboring a crush on the man.

“If you see something you like, just let me know. We’re looking for warmer clothes for now, but it would be nice to get something you want to wear,” you rattled off, trying to settle your heart again.

The look on his face changed as he dipped in close to you and whispered, “I would much rather trust your judgment about what looks best on me.”

“That may be a bit difficult…”

“Why? Is it because you prefer nothing on—”

“Volo!”

He just laughed at you. But you knew what he was doing. He was trying to take your mind off your troubles.

“I jest, my love.”

Sighing with a smile, you swung your intertwined hands forward, a sign you’d like him to walk with you as you inspected the displays. Although you’d been worried about Volo since he’d quite literally been dropped into your world only a few hours prior, you had to admit that you enjoyed this moment with him. Shopping together wasn’t really something you had often done in Hisui. It was different then, much different, despite how you’d already lived with one another for years, in your little home.

Briefly, you wondered what had happened to it.

“What about this?”

You were glad that Volo had brought you out of your reminiscing. He was here with you. That was what was important.

“Oh!” Your attention was now fully on the sweater Volo was holding. “That’s exactly what I was thinking we should look for first!”

Volo tilted his head meaningfully. “We think quite alike.”

You eyes softened.

“Of course we do.”

Reaching out, you took the sweater from him and examined it carefully. It was a pale cream color, with light blue buttons that reminded you of the markings on Togekiss. Your lips twitched upward. Of course, you probably weren’t the only one thinking of the resemblance.

You peered at the tag on inside its collar and at the rack it’d been on. “It’s a good brand, Altaria and Blu.”

“And what does its name mean?”

“They’re a family of Pokémon—Swablu and Altaria. They kind of look like clouds, but they’re actually birds.”

“Hm. I would like to see a Pokémon like that one day.”

Draping the long sweater over your arm, you returned to perusing the other options while chatting idly. It was peaceful—more than you’d thought it’d be. Maybe it was because your nerves had eased themselves a little. It also helped you overlook how much this all might cost you. You could manage. Anything, for him.

For the most part, however, Volo defaulted to letting you choose his clothing for him, despite how often you tried to get his input. It was nice that he trusted you to do so—even if he was right beside you, observing what you selected for him. Once more, you couldn’t help thinking of how regular something like this could be for the two of you.

A normal life. Maybe not like the one you’d had in Hisui, but one where you’d be together, forever. You smiled at the thought.

Volo seemed pleased, too. Maybe it was because he liked what the two of you had picked. Similar sweaters, warm cargo pants, a variety of button-downs, and some comfortable, stay-at-home clothes, among the other clothing necessities like undergarments and shoes. (The sandals he was wearing had to go.)

…Or maybe it wasn’t really the clothes, but the principle of it all. That he was just as happy to be with you as you were with him. You caught him staring at you fondly—once when you were deeply scrutinizing a trendy pair of track pants and then when you were describing the different fabrics often used for modern-day clothing. He only smiled at you when you’d asked if something was wrong, before saying that he simply loved hearing your voice.

You had to wait a moment before you could actually make your way to the register to pay.

The exchange with the cashier went about as you’d expected though. They seemed curious about Volo, but you appreciated that they didn’t say anything. They did grin when you mentioned that Volo would be wearing some of the clothes you’d purchased out.

You sighed as the two of you left the boutique. You were glad that everything had gone smoothly, even if you’d been particularly worried on the way here.

Taking Volo’s hand again, you checked the time, then said, “We’ll go shopping for more clothes on another day, but for now, this should hopefully work.”

“I was worried about you.”

“Huh?” You looked up at him, surprised by the unexpectedness of his remark.

Volo plucked the bag of clothes you’d been carrying and hooked it over his elbow. He glanced at you softly. “You were worried about me throughout the entire afternoon. I was unsure of what I could do to help.”

“Volo…”

He smiled at you, and then he was the one guiding you down the sidewalk.

“But there’s no need to worry about me. As long as I am with you, I will always be all right.”

Your heart fluttered. How could he always say such things like this…?

“More than all right, surely,” he continued, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand. “No amount of words describe how fortunate I am to have you with me.”

Volo leaned in and laid a kiss upon your cheek.

“I’m just happy to be here with you, my love.”

grocery shopping – (a few days.)

“What’s that?”

Stopping your shopping cart, you turned back to Volo. He was slightly bent over the open-top freezer stretching alongside you and pointing at something within one of the containers.

You poked your head over the edge of the freezer. When you saw what he was pointing at, you couldn’t help smiling.

“They’re frozen pancakes.”

Volo scrunched his nose. He seemed unsure of why they were the way they were.

“The amount of frozen food that is here is… astounding.”

You held back your laugh. It was cute to see Volo like this.

“Of course, you can make pancakes without having them frozen. Maybe we should make some tomorrow morning.”

Volo nodded, moving to you again. He laid his arms over yours as you turned to steer the cart, his chest pressed against your back.

“Lovely.” You felt his voice rumble up your spine, and his warmth was almost instantly overwhelming.

Why did it always feel like you were falling in love with him all over again?

“…You’re lovely,” you told him, tilting your head back to look at him with a grin.

Volo laughed, and before you had a chance to react, he stole a kiss from you.

cooking – (two weeks.)

You were exhausted.

Work, to put it plainly, had sucked.

What you needed now was a chance to relax, to forget about everything that had happened, and ready yourself to repeat it all tomorrow.       

What you didn’t know you needed, however, was waiting for you when you opened the door to your apartment.

“I’m home,” you called out tiredly. You kicked off your shoes, unbothered by how they’d flown somewhere across the front entrance, and barely remembered to slide on your slippers before ambling farther inside.

Something smelled nice—a savory, light scent. Maybe Volo was cooking?

“Welcome back!” came the sing-song voice from the kitchen.

Immediately, a smile flickered onto your lips. Oh, this man…

Poking his head out from down the hall, Volo waved at you. He rounded the corner, and you noticed he was also wearing an apron, confirming what you’d thought earlier. You wanted to run to him, to laugh, to scream about how glad you were to see him, but instead, you could only offer him the weak smile that was already on your face.

Volo covered all the ground to you, then embraced you gently. It was wonderful to feel him so close to you, with his fingers tracing soothing circles into your back.          

“Another rough day?”

“Mhm.”

“Hm. Perhaps I should ask Giratina to… pay a friendly visit to a select few.”

You laughed. That sounded nice. Giratina, scaring your terrible boss and awful coworker.

“Maybe. Maybe, Volo.”

…

Volo smiled. The two of you wandered back to the living room, where you finally saw what Volo had been up to. An array of dishes decorated the dining table, with a hot stew at the center of it all.

“It’s just something simple,” began Volo as he cradled your hands in his own, “but I thought it might be a nice to have a fuller meal.”

Warmth flooded your heart.

“I love you,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss him.

He was more than glad to accept your kiss, and then he answered, an echo of your words,

reference: