(pokemon) someone who cares

[sunrises]

Title: someone who cares
Fandom: Pokemon Masters EX
Universe: canon
Relationships: Cyrus/Cynthia
Summary: Cyrus and Cynthia have never been on good terms, especially after Cyrus arrived on Pasio and tried to continue his plans for a complete world. So why is it that during a temporary truce, Cynthia seeks him out, specifically? Or: Cyrus and Cynthia discuss Husui-era ancestors over coffee, if only as a pretense for their own tenuous relationship.
Notes: Crossposted on Archive of Our Own.

Champion Cynthia just had to sit in his favorite booth. All Cyrus desired was a quiet cup of coffee in the corner of the cafe, and yet she had dashed such a dream by occupying his regular booth. Worse still, she waved at him as he approached her, as if they were old friends.

They weren't friends. They weren't even enemies anymore. No, their relationship hung by mere threads, ready to unravel at a moment's notice. It was flawed and imperfect - and the exact sort of feeling Cyrus wanted to smother into nothingness. How the Champion could bear such emotions, he would never know.

He didn't understand her, let alone her motive in being here. He didn't understand how someone could declare their intent to fight him, only to turn around and monitor his every move as if he were a child. Nor did he understand how she had arrived before him and ordered his usual cappuccino. Given the hot, rising steam, she hadn't been waiting long.

Part of Cyrus wanted to turn around and go home. Part of Cyrus, however, knew he had done nothing wrong. Team Galactic had halted all their plans as of late. Well, more accurately - the recent time-space distortion had necessitated that Team Galactic cease such plans.

Champion Cynthia must've known that. She had to have realized that Cyrus's days were now filled with research and the occasional outing with young Sophocles (or Sophocles's cousin Molayne, or Clemont, or somehow, Volkner and Flint). She had nothing to monitor, let alone any understandable reason to spend time with him. She was, for all intents and purposes, bothering him on his day off.

"Champion," was all Cyrus could manage as he stood at the edge of the table.

She let out a bright, amused laugh as she met his gaze. "Don't be that way, Cyrus. Your coffee's going to get cold."

"What brings you here?" He folded his arms, focusing on the hot cappuccino in front of his spot. "I don't believe I've necessitated a visit."

A look of understanding washed over her face. The Champion's expression softened as she pulled out a photo album from her bag. "No, you haven't. Trust me, you'd know if it were such an occasion. I just... I wanted to show you something Adaman gave me."

"The leader of the Diamond clan?" Cyrus paused, taking a seat to better observe the Champion. "What would he have given you?"

Truthfully, Cyrus hadn't cared much for Sinnoh's history. He knew of the original clans, of course. Every child in Sinnoh learned the basics in school, and his grandmother had told him stories of Team Galaxy's expeditions across the land once known as Hisui. Outside of old bedtime stories, however, Cyrus preferred to focus on the future - and on building a perfect world, devoid of imperfect legends.

"A picture of your ancestor, Cyllene." Her expression grew brighter as she opened the book and flipped to the photograph. While it was black and white, the saturation was rich and the portrait clear. The entire album was full of crisp, new photographs, as if it had been taken days prior, rather than hundreds of years ago. "Professor Laventon used to take photographs during his surveys, you see - and he gave a few to Adaman and Irida. Somehow, the whole album came with them in the distortion."

Of course the Champion would've kept such photographs as if they were precious treasures. She adored legends and history, almost to a terrifying extent. Sometimes, Cyrus wondered if she had memorized the entire history of the world, or if she was just that determined to remember old mistakes made by those long since deceased.

"She looks a lot like you," the Champion was saying, pulling Cyrus back to reality. "I thought... I just thought you might want to see it."

He raised an eyebrow as he finally grabbed his coffee and took a sip. While it was warm, it was also oddly sweeter today. Perhaps she had forgotten his usual order, after all. "Because my ancestor happens to be present in them?"

Cyrus leaned forward to peruse the album, flipping through pages and browsing the photographs. His great-grandmother Cyllene wasn't in as many photos as the Champion claimed. Her expression was neutral, save for two photos: one, where she was eating potato mochi with a girl identical to Dawn, and another, where Professor Laventon was sitting beside her and showing her a completed Pokedex. While her expression seemed neutral, her cheeks were flushed. Cyrus supposed he shouldn't have been surprised; after all, Professor Laventon was also one of his ancestors.

"Precisely." The Champion's laugh feels more genuine today, somehow. "I don't know about you, but I would've loved to see my ancestors. How did they live in Hisui? What sorts of struggles did they endure? What was life like for them back then?"

"Didn't you write a dissertation on such matters?" Cyrus slid the photo album back in her direction. He had vaguely remembered her mentioning her research, and of course, the dissertation she defended in university. The memory was foggy, yet her passion had been indelible. "You, of all people, should know the answer."

She sighed, peering at him as if he had insulted her entire lineage. "Secondhand sources aren't anywhere near the same thing, Cyrus. Haven't you ever read anything and wished you could ask the author yourself?"

"No." His reply was abrupt, even for him. "So you came just to show me some old photographs?"

"Kind of." She paused, brushing her hair back behind her ear. "I... I wanted to ask you how you've been finding Pasio."

An odd question, even for her. "You tell me." Cyrus couldn't help sounding amused as he rested his arms on the table. "You've been observing me this whole time, haven't you?"

"I haven't exactly kept it a secret," she pointed out, with a slight whine in her voice. So the Champion could be childish too, when she so chose. "I'm doing my due diligence and going to the source."

"A foolish sentiment," he found himself saying, right before the weight of her words hit him like one of the Subway Master's cabin cars.

The Champion cared about his opinion? Of all people? Surely she had more relevant people to spend time with, like Dawn or Steven, or this Leader Adaman. There were no shortage of people surrounding her, even on this artificial island far from Sinnoh. So why would she return to him, given all that's said and done?

"You didn't answer my question," she said, with slight amusement as she tucked her photo album away. "What do you think of Pasio?"

"It leaves much to be desired." This much, Cyrus could comfortably admit. He took another sip of coffee to gather his thoughts. "Considering its artificial nature, Pasio shouldn't be this flawed."

She leaned forward with an unusual glint in her eye, "So it could be better?"

He fought back a laugh. "I know it could be better."

"How?" She paused, holding up a couple of fingers, "And don't give me that crap about eliminating the human spirit."

"That, Champion, is precisely how the world could be complete."

"Depends on our definition, I'd say." She took a sip of her drink, curling both hands around her mug.

They were running around in meaningless circles. Cyrus supposed he should end the conversation early - after all, the Champion got her answer. Surely she had other things to do than to sip coffee with him?

"Now you're being pedantic," he admits (if only in an attempt to end this foolish train of thought), meeting her gaze.

"You started it." Another childish admission, yet the Champion doesn't seem to realize it as she takes another gulp. "All I wanted was to check up on you. And maybe have some coffee before my next expedition."

"What expedition?" Cyrus blinked. "The ruins here aren't real."

(Unless, of course, the space-time distortion had somehow bestowed ancient ruins upon parts of Pasio. Given the sheer breadth of people displaced by time, Cyrus wouldn't be surprised if old temples and villages had also fallen from the sky.)

"No, but even fake ruins are rooted in reality. They're replicas of buildings and homes that people used to live in, and even those can tell us something about those who came before us." Her eyes are sparkling now, like young Sophocles whenever the boy's about to tinker with a new machine. "I could learn a lot from the ruins here, real or not."

Dread filled Cyrus's stomach as she continued to talk. Given their usual animosity, the Champion had previously been curt and brief, almost cold in tone. Now, she was animated and passionate, almost zealous. He had to leave, or at least cut her off before such behavior defined their tenuous relationship.

"Champion." His tone was harsher than he intended. The Champion blinked, staring at him with stunned silence. "You should save these discussions for someone who cares."

She grew quiet, finishing her drink and observing him with newfound understanding. An awkward, uneasy silence filled the booth for a minute. Every noise, every movement echoed louder in his head than her incessant praise.

"My apologies," she said after a moment, with an expression he can't read. "And pray tell, could you tell me why you don't care?"

"You normally don't waste my time with such explanations." He had to wonder why he had to explicitly point out her hypocritical behavior. The Champion had never struck him as particularly stupid or oblivious. "And now you wish to discuss your studies with me? Don't you have assistants? Or those better suited to listening to your stories?"

"Ah." Her expression softened as she rested a hand under her chin. "Cyrus, I'd like us to be on better terms. I know words are hard for you–"

He sputtered, "I beg your pardon?"

"–But we're not enemies right now, are we?" Her smile grew confident, if not downright obnoxious. "So until your team decides to attack innocent kids or destroy this island, we might as well find common ground."

Cyrus fought back another laugh. "You live in a fool's paradise, Champion. I doubt we'll find commonalities–"

"The photos?"

He winced. "Besides the photos."

She looked a little too triumphant for her own good. "So if you have nothing else to do today, I could use a little help with the ruins. My assistants are competing in the tournament."

"You couldn't have asked someone else?" Now he was being rude on purpose. Cyrus couldn't help it; the Champion almost demanded such responses.

To her credit, the Champion's expression grew as bright as the sun as she looked back at him. "Who else would I have asked? I'd appreciate your cooperation, specifically."

The caffeine must've been getting to him. Or the warmth of the cafe, or even the desire to make her leave so he could get back to his quiet afternoon. In hindsight, Cyrus had a million excuses that didn't even scratch the surface as he looked back at her.

She was flawed, and imperfect, and nowhere near someone with whom he curried any favor. And yet, as she extended a hand out towards him, he found himself taking that shaky, uncertain first step towards her–

"Hmph," was all he could say as they departed. "I suppose I'll have to suffice."