route_1065 | (no subject)

Who: Ken and Youji
Where: Route 29--between New Bark and Cherrytown
When: Couple days after this post.
Summary: Old friends, reunited. Or something.
Rating: PG-13 at most, for Ken's foul mouth.

Log: Ken, in the couple days he'd been walking back toward New Bark Town in the terrible weather Johto seemed to be so fond of right now, had been thinking. Wondering how, exactly, he'd react to seeing Youji Kudou in the flesh again, after so long...it seemed a lot shorter once he thought about it. But both of them had changed so goddamn much over the last six years. Youji had a new life, a new name, a wife, and no place for any of them in his life anymore, so much the better.

Ken had missed him, sure. But he'd also been happy that his friend had gotten, finally, the life that he deserved. It only took something uncomfortably close to death for it to happen. Youji Kudou didn't exist anymore, to Ken's recollection. But now here he was. And there was a lot he didn't know.

Six years had never seemed so much like a lifetime.

Ran and Omi didn't appreciate the cold--they were tucked away in their Pokeballs, where it was presumably a hell of a lot warmer than it was out here. Ken shivered, his coat was warm and the sun was out, but he still hated the cold, it made old wounds complain and damn thinking that made him feel old. At least Ratty was doing his best impression of a furry space heater, having burrowed under Ken's coat and perched across his shoulders, making him look he had a hunchback.

Youji better bloody well appreciate this.

Threaded | Flat

Youji hadn't been making good time; whenever his arm started to cramp from cradling a tiny, pink-skinned midget, he'd set the Smoochum on the ground and tell her to walk. She seemed to understand 'walk' to mean 'jump in every snowbank in sight and attempt to kiss what you find underneath it.' The good news was that by the time each little episode was done, Youji's arm was rested enough to carry her a while longer.

The bad news was how slowly they progressed as a result.

"Are you quite finished?" he asked, while she scrambled up to sit on his shoulders like a toddler at a parade.

On the other hand, Youji rarely objected to slow progress. Effort was a hassle and time to think could be a blessing.

"Let's try not to delay any--dammit, quit that, I'm afraid you're a bit younger than my usual. Never mind the species gap."

And sometimes, a distraction, a break, from his thoughts was the greatest blessing Youji could ask for.

Six years. With a phone between them and a stupid situation to deal with, Youji was capable of shelving that fact in the back of his mind, something to contemplate at his leisure. Well, aside from chasing his Pokemon and shaking the icicles out of his hair, leisure was about all he had at the moment, and what he was thinking wasn't exactly comforting.

Ken six years older was Ken grown-up, Ken not a selectively naive, mussy-haired boy nineteen. He'd be dealing with a Ken who was a mussy-haired boy of twenty-five or twenty-six. Youji couldn't imagine himself as a twenty-five-year-old, let alone Ken. He'd seemed much the same as ever during their call, and seemed pleased to see Youji, but referring to such facts of life as the godforsaken trailer in the past tense seemed ominous.

For once, Ken knew more than Youji did, and that was unnerving.