A Fine Day in May
: T (PG-13) for mild language and sexual content
: Hoennshipping (Brendan x May)
: The author doesn't own Pokémon and/or any related characters.
: Eight years after that Team Magma fiasco, May is getting married! But not to Brendan! Or Wally either, weirdos. Desperate to woo back his childhood love, Brendan, with the help of a reluctant Wally, has thirty days to win back May's heart. If only that annoying fiancé of hers would stop getting in the way ... Speaking of which, there's something funny about May's fiancé and not in the cool, clown-like way either.
Chapter Index (last chapter posted 11/06/10)
1) Tuesday - May 1st, 2012
2) Wednesday - May 2nd, 2012
3) Friday - May 4th, 2012
4) Sunday - May 6th, 2012
5) Tuesday - May 15th, 2012
6) Wednesday - May 16, 2012
Welcome to A Fine Day in May. This is the third and final installment of two of my stories (both, I believe, have long been pruned from SPPf, but that's okay). Yes, I do realize I'm going to kill myself writing another 'fic, but this isn't as epically huge. I'm sure I can handle a ten-chapter story.
“But Breezy,” you ask, “do I really need to read two other crappy 'fics to understand this one?” 'Course not, dear reader! Though it would help. It's pretty stand-alone though, so don't fret too much about it if you're a newcomer.
So enjoy and feel free to review, to point out errors, to say it's crap at its finest, and so on. :3
Tuesday – May 1st, 2012
What a fine day in May
When the trees were on fire,
The sky was dark red,
The ground sticky with mire.
The oceans were angry,
The sun was mad too,
The mountains fell flat,
And the plateaus grew.
At least that's how it felt
When I saw you again,
What a fine day in May
Is how I remember it then.
His name was Brendan Birch. He was twenty-three years old. God, was he old.
At least that's how he felt.
“I'm tired of it,” he said firmly, nodding his head. “Tired of traveling. What is the point? I mean, I get these badges, I travel these regions, I meet all these new people only to end up losing to some bratty fifteen year old. What's up with that?”
He stared at himself in the mirror, evaluating his appearance. He cleaned up well. Light stubble was poking its way out, but it was nothing that a quick shave couldn't fix. His tousled, short, white hair was tied back by an old, green bandanna that he should probably replace but was too fond of to throw away. Brendan, however, did away with the cliché Hoenn journey clothing long ago, replacing his black slacks with dark blue denim jeans and the loose orange, black and green Hoenn shirt with a simple green polo, though the tiny half Pokéball design of the Hoenn emblem was stitched on the left chest pocket. What stood out the most from this boy – man really – was his sharp, red eyes, not because of the odd color but the aging and wisdom behind them. Pokémon, friendship, love, hate ... He knew all about it. Eight years of traveling did that.
He put both hands on the polished chestnut dresser and leaned into it, a puzzled expression sketched on his face. “Why don't you answer?” It seemed like the pathetic twenty-three year old was talking to himself, but he really wasn't. He turned around, looking at a man no older than he sitting in a wooden chair, a newspaper covering his face.
“Sorry, what?” said the other man, rolling up the newspaper and shoving it in his backpack. “You were talking to me?”
“Ah, well. You're over it.” The other man smiled cheekily, running a hand through his messy, green hair, his dark green eyes sparkling mischievously. He stood up, straightening out his white, button-up shirt, and readjusting the belt that held up his baggy khaki pants. Along his belt was six red and white Pokéballs, each gleaming in the light, and a green and orange PokéNav, its screen glowing. His name was Wally Wood, Pokémon Trainer and friend of Brendan Birch. Once upon a time, the two had a fierce rivalry, but as time went by, they realized they had a lot more in common than they thought.
“What did you ask me?”
Brendan sighed, repeating his question. “What's the point of traveling?”
Wally walked over toward the dresser, backpack in hand, and bent down onto his knees, pulling open a drawer. “You got fourth in the last league we competed in,” he answered, zipping open his backpack and shoving Pokémon supplies into it. “I mean, that's better than most trainers do in their lifetime.”
“We've been at this for awhile,” muttered the white-haired trainer, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples.
“And that's why this is going to be our last journey,” said Wally, standing up and swinging his backpack over his shoulder. “And besides, traveling for us has an ulterior motive, right? I mean, you've been researching Pokémon all over the different regions for a few years now to finish your apprenticeship as a Pokémon Researcher, and I got a job offer to kick up that new gym in Verdanturf Town after we finish this year's journey. It's not all about the badges anymore. Or the glory. Or whatever.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Brendan opened his eyes, picked up each of his six Pokéballs, and started to clip them on his belt, enjoying the satisfying click each ball produced. He picked up his backpack from the dresser table and swung it around his shoulder. “Ah, sweet Hoenn again. How I missed thee. How long has it been?”
Wally shrugged, walking toward the door. “Don't know. Two, three years maybe? Personally, I would have loved to travel the Johto region again, but that's just me.”
“We started here, so we'll end here.”
“Whatever.” The green-haired trainer pushed down on the brass doorknob, swinging it open, wind rushing past him. Past the door was the busy hustle of trainers in the Pokémon Center. People were running in between the lobby desk to pick up healed Pokémon and the small kitchen where trainers could get a bite to eat. The air had the thick, distinct scent of disinfectant, and the sound of beeping machines and the wheels of gurneys squeaking on the cold linoleum rung throughout the room, but it was a fond sound and smell to Brendan. Being around it for so long made it remind him of home.
Brushing past a pair of squabbling ten year olds, Brendan and Wally made their way toward the automated glass doors of the Pokémon Center. Bright, cheery sunlight engulfed them in an embrace, warming them up. A couple rode past them on a pair of Rydel's infamous bikes, zooming through Mauville's bustling square. People were busy window shopping, stopping on the sidewalk and pointing at the window before heading further down the street.
“So, now what?”
It was a simple question asked by Wally, but Brendan didn't know the answer. “Well, I guess we should hit the road. Need any supplies?”
Wally dug through his backpack, shifting its contents. “Yeah. I'm pretty low on Pokéballs, and I suppose I could use more potions.” He then pointed heroically to a building, the wind blowing through his hair at the right moment. “To the PokéMart!”
Brendan watched amusedly as his friend, though old but still a bit immature at times, did his best not to step on the cracks and lines of the sidewalk (“Step on a crack, and break your mother's back,” as Wally would say) until they passed a building where televisions were stacked on top of each other. “Pokémon Gossip” was on, and usually Brendan would turn away from such trash, but something, or someone, caught his eye.
He turned toward the window, his eyes wide, his arms dropping to his side. “May ...” he said in a whisper, examining the television, putting a hand to the window and smudging the glass with his fingerprints. He watched as the screen showed May in various pictures, ranging from her sipping a drink to her competing in Pokémon Contests.
Wally stopped acting like a moron and turned toward the televisions as well, his eyes narrowing a bit, taking in the appearance of the girl on the television. Below her red and white bandanna tied around her head was shoulder-length, chestnut brown hair that brushed against her shoulders. Her bangs framed her face nicely, showing off her bright, blue eyes. While most of the snapshots showed her in various outfits, Wally could tell she had a curvy, oh so glorious figure underneath her clothing. “Oh, right. Her. I would hit that like the fist of an angry god. ...Who is she again?”
“Really, Wally?” asked Brendan absurdly. “How could you forget her? Don't you remember those seven – no, eight long years ago ... eight long years ago ... eight long years ago ...”
Wally scratched his head. “Why are you repeating yourself?”
“I thought repeating it would trigger a flashback.”
“You're doing it wrong. You've got to make the air wavy to trigger a flashback. Oh, and you got to have the harpsichord playing in the background. Anyway, right, I think I remember her. May isn't it? I heard she became a famous coordinator in Hoenn. She looks ... well.”
“She's beautiful,” Brendan said truthfully, gazing at the television with longing eyes.
“Still not over her, hmm? She broke up with you all that time ago.”
“No. Technically we said break.”
“Oh, right. An eight year 'break.' I won't tell her about last summer in Kanto during Mardi Gras when you met that girl, and you decided, 'Hey, one more drink can't hurt-'”
“I was there. No need to remind me,” he groaned. “I suppose you're right though.” Brendan placed his arms behind his neck and looked up wistfully. “I wonder ... I mean, if I stayed in contact with her. I tried, I really did. But the letters that came back were shorter and shorter in length until finally they stopped coming. So I guess I gave up as well.” He then glared at Wally who was playing an invisible violin like tragedy struck.
Wally dropped his arms and smiled sheepishly. “Guess you never will.”
“I guess.” Brendan's face dampened as the pictures of May were replaced with a reporting of a Psyduck and Wigglytuff falling in love. “Anyway, you go ahead and buy your things. I need ... I need to go think for a bit.”
Wally shrugged. “If you say so. I'll catch up with you in a bit.” He took a quick glance at the television, slightly disturbed at the sight of a Psyduck and Wigglytuff spooning before heading into the shop next door, the bell on the door chiming pleasantly.
Sighing to himself, Brendan, his head cast down, walked in the opposite direction, barely managing to dodge a kid who lost control of his bike. Soon, the paved, cracked sidewalk turned into dirt, sand crunching underneath his black and green sneakers. He spotted a lone bench surrounded by shrubbery and sat down on it, tapping his fingers on his thighs.
Reaching down, Brendan unhooked a Pokéball from his belt and enlarged it with the press of a button. He then threw in into the air, the red and white blurring together until the ball split open, white energy bursting from it. The white energy landed on the floor, forming into a rubbery, blue and orange being that stood on its hind legs. Large, gray fins decorated his back and head. Its bright, orange eyes were half closed as he rubbed at them with his front paw, yawning. It was no other than Brendan's first and most faithful Pokémon Muddy, an old, and apparently tired, Swampert.
“Do you remember May, Muddy?” the man asked the sleepy-looking Swampert. Since they both have been traveling together for years now, Brendan had no trouble understanding his Swampert even though Muddy clearly spoke in “Swampert language.”
“... What?” asked the Swampert, scratching his head.
“May. That girl we used to travel with when we were younger.”
“Oh, sweet Latias,” muttered Brendan, dragging his hand down his face. “May. May Maple. She had a Blaziken named Flare that you used to be close to, and we used to travel together during our first journey – CAN YOU HEAR ME?”
Muddy blinked twice. “... I don't want any!”
Brendan sighed and placed his head in his hands as Muddy laughed, patting his trainer on the head. “Aw, why so serious? Of course I remember May and Fairy.”
“Flare,” the trainer corrected.
Muddy rolled his eyes. “Right. Flare. Whatever. What about May though?”
“I saw her on T.V today.”
“Oh, really? Would you hit it ... like the fist of an angry god?”
“Wally said that earlier. Do you even know what that means?”
The Swampert shrugged. “No, but it has a nice ring to it, don't you think? Are you going to catch up with her now that we're back in Hoenn? I'm sure she misses you.” He chuckled, nudging his trainer.
“I don't know. Maybe,” Brendan answered, looking up toward the sky. “If it happens, it happens, right–“
A loud shriek and the stamping of feet made Brendan look back down toward his Pokémon. “Oh, sweet god! I'M BLIND!” screamed the Swampert, dancing around, trying to swing his short arms toward his face.
“Latios, relax,” muttered Brendan, holding down his Swampert and turning him around to face him. “Muddy, it's just a bandanna.” He pulled it off, and Muddy relaxed, gasping for breath. Brendan examined the red and white bandanna in his hand, feeling the soft and worn out material. It looked like no other Hoenn bandanna, and it could belong to anyone, but Brendan couldn't help but hope. Could it be May's?
“Nah,” he answered himself, holding the bandanna by the corner so it flapped in the wind like a flag. About to let it go, a voice behind him caught his attention.
“Excuse me? Sir? I think that's my bandanna.”
Brendan felt his heart skip a beat. He turned around, and sure enough it was May. Smiling sweetly, she bent over a bit so she could see eye to eye with the nervous wreak of white-haired trainer. Without her bandanna, her hair blew freely in the breeze, her bangs teasing her forehead. He knew those blue eyes well; they haven't changed they a bit; they were kind, intelligent, and loving. She was dressed pretty casually. A black miniskirt showed off her long, lightly tanned legs, while a tight, white-collared shirt hugged at her curves perfectly.
God, he loved her.
Brendan tried his best to talk, but it felt like he swallowed balls of cotton. “Uh ...” He shakily handed the bandanna over to May who took it willingly.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling wider, her eyes sparkling. She shifted her hair to the side tying the bandanna around her head firmly. Satisfied, she brushed her hair back into place with her fingers. “Well, um, thanks again for finding it. Bye.” She turned around and was about to walk away when the strange man said,
“Yes?” May brushed the hair out of her face that the wind playfully placed there and walked back toward Brendan.
Brendan calmed down a bit and was able to form sentences. “You don't remember me?”
May sat down on the bench, crossing her legs, taking in this strange guy's appearance. “Can't say I do,” she said truthfully. “Did we compete in a contest?”
He shook his head. “No. You used to remember that I was never big on contests.”
“Hmm.” She rubbed her chin, shifting her head to the side like she were thinking. “Oh! Did we meet on that cruise ship that went in between Lilycove and Slateport? That was a fun cruise.”
“I'm sure it was, but no. You used to know that I get seasick.”
“Oh, I don't know,” she said, laughing a bit. “I mean, I haven't traveled around that much besides the Hoenn region, and even then, it's only the major landmark cities, like Lilycove and Mauville. I mean, I was a trainer once upon a time and–“ Her eyes widened. “No way ...”
Brendan nodded, grinning. “Remember me now?”
“B Boy?” The pet name May had for Brendan made Butterfrees flutter in his stomach. “Omigosh! Brendan!” May quickly embraced him in a tight hug, and Brendan hugged back, finding comfort in her arms. She then let go, still gripping onto his arms, and staring into the deepness of his eyes. “Wow! I haven't seen you for years! How are you?”
“Oh, same ole,” he said with a laugh. “I've been traveling all over, exploring different regions. It's been ... interesting. I just came back to this region yesterday. I heard you became one of Hoenn's best coordinators.”
She blushed. “Oh, everyone says that. There's always room to improve though. Are you still a trainer?”
“Somewhat. I've been doing that on the side while researching Pokémon in their natural habitat for a few years now. My apprenticeship ends this year, and I should be able to open my own laboratory somewhere next year.”
“Like father, like son.” May smiled, remembering that Brendan was the son of the famous Professor Birch of the Hoenn region. A loud, annoying beeping noise rang from her purse, and she opened it, fishing out a red and white PokéNav. “Oh, darn. There's trouble at the Verdanturf Contest. Hey, we should totally meet up for lunch tomorrow when I'm not busy, k?” she said, getting up from the bench, still holding on lightly to Brendan's hand.
“Yeah. That'll be nice,” Brendan replied softly, looking at their entwined hands. He reluctantly pulled away, still feeling it tingle from her touch.
“I'll call you, okay?” she said, heading toward the grassy city. She turned her head and waved good-bye to him. “Bye, B Boy!”
- - -
“She's amazing, Wally. And gorgeous. She's just ... Wow.” Brendan flopped over backward in his bed in their room at the Pokémon Center, a huge smile etched on his face.
“Mhm,” said the green-haired trainer absentmindedly as he flipped through a gossip magazine the Center provided. “That girl is also the reason why we're not in Rustboro right now.”
“You should have seen her, Wally.” He ignored his disgruntled friend. “God ... She was so ... I don't even know. When I saw her, I knew that I was still in love with her. She's amazing! She's perfect! She's–“
“Engaged,” interrupted Wally, raising an eyebrow, causing Brendan to sit up, his goofy grin disappearing into a look of shock and horror.
“What was that?”
“Engaged,” he repeated. “As in, you know, engaged to be married.”
“Bull!” Brendan quickly jumped onto his feet and rushed toward the table where Wally sat on, snatching the magazine out of his hands. His eyebrows furrowed together as he read the article. “May Maple,” he read out loud, “is going to be a blushing bride this month. Coincidently enough, the famous coordinator has decided to get married Thursday, May 31st to Sean A. Sidio. Who the hell is that?”
“Someone from Hoenn? A coordinator?” Wally shrugged, taking the magazine back. “That sucks, dude. You just found her today too.”
Brendan began to pace the floor, a hand running his chin. “What's the date?” he demanded.
“Uh ...” Wally unclipped the PokeNav off his belt and looked at it. “May 1st. Why?”
“May 1st ...” Brendan repeated, stopping in his tracks and looking at Wally. “May 1st ... She's getting married May 31st. So I have thirty days to win her back. To make her remember how she felt about me all those years ago. Do you think I can do it?”
Wally looked at Brendan worriedly. “I don't know, Brendan. I mean ... She's moved on obviously. Maybe you should too. I know you two had it 'bad' for each other when you were fifteen, but Latios, man. You were fifteen. Fifteen year olds don't fall in love.”
The white-haired man shook his head. “No. I did. And I still am. I really am ashamed that I pushed her to the back of mind like that after all this time, but the moment I saw her at the bench, I knew we were meant to be. That I still loved her.” He took a deep breath, his heart racing. “I have to do this, Wally.”
“If you say so. I guess that means traveling is on a hiatus?”
Wally sighed. “All right. We'll take another month break. Again. I suppose it'll give me a chance to check out the new gym and figure out what Pokémon I'm going to use as gym leader.” He then looked at Brendan seriously, his eyes solemn. “Brendan, if she's happy with this other guy, I don't think you should ruin it. The hardest part of being in love is letting the love go.”
Brendan shook his head. “The hardest part about being in love is not doing anything about it and then wondering what could have happened.”
“I'll win her back, Wally. Mark my words.”