[Have a dejected looking Misaki, sitting in a Violet City cafe. Although he would be the last one to encourage anyone to indulge in gluttony after a defeat, he's already downed three huge parfaits in an attempt to feel better. Their empty containers lay across his table, and his newly hatched Pokemon from the Christmas egg giveaway is lapping up
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[Sorry Misaki, he's not going to be using video for a while.]
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Even if Miles says that, it doesn't inspire much confidence. He was pretty much wiped out... and he even has a high-level electric Pokemon! That comes with having no real strategy, though.]
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I read a manga about Go once, but I'm not very familiar with those type of strategy board games. Sounds difficult.
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[And then excuse Miles, Misaki, as there's a crashing noise, a cheerful cry of WOOOOPAAAAHHH followed by an annoyed growl from an Arcanine, the amused barking of a Growlithe-- and with the thump of some things hitting the ground, the audio clicks to video.....
to show Miles sprawled half on the floor, half on the bed, with his three baby Pokémon (Pip, Tal the Wooper, and Remus the Plusle) sitting on his head. There's a roll of bandages by his hands, which he'd been in the middle of rewrapping.]
........Ow.
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Are... are you gonna be okay?
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[With a bit of a struggle, Miles pulls himself off the bed and completely onto the floor, doing his best not to drop the three Pokémon as he sits up (obviously preferring not to put any weight on his hands). Misaki, say hello to hands that look like they'd been making out with a cheese grinder, a nasty shade of red because of the frostbite.]
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Fighting back his initial freak-out, Misaki covers his mouth with a hand and just... stares. Then slowly, he bows his head and the hand moves up to put pressure on his eyes. The voice that comes out of him is low and measured.]
Miles. What did you do to your hands?
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I--
....It's nothing. Just a cut, and frostbite..
[He should have seen that reaction coming, huh.]
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[His voice is still quiet and even. Be thankful he's not screaming or crying yet, Miles.]
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I forgot to use a shovel.
[Well, it wasn't a complete lie.]
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Sighing, and finally looking back up, Misaki studies Miles for a good minute before sitting back. This has done nothing to improve his mood.] I hope you're not planning on going out for the next few weeks. You have some serious healing to do.
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[Miles just... looks so terribly apologetic at that, nodding and drawing his knees up, leaning back against the bed as his Pokémon roll onto the floor.]
...I'm sorry. It was--
I had my friend draw me a picture of my father, and I was burying it... for a grave.
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I really don't need to know the reason. You should know better than to endanger your health or body.
Miles, this has gone beyond just grief if you're getting hurt.
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It wasn't just to.. grieve for him or.. or -- [a short pause, as he coughs.]
......You won't understand, Misaki. [And he turns away.]
You know why your parents died. There's no secret about it, nobody to spit on their grave and sneer at them because they had to protect their stupid ego. You don't... you don't have a mother at home who's suffering because her husband was killed, and to-- to not know why he had to die...
[He clenches his hands into fists, frowning deeply.]
...You just don't understand, Misaki. You never will.
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[And Misaki finally looks away himself. This time the few tears starting to wet his eyes aren't sad--they're angry. His voice comes out quiet but not soft.]
And don't compare my parents' death to your father's as if my situation is "better." That's a bunch of bullshit...
[Yes, he realizes he's practically yelling in a Pokemon Center but he could care less right now.]
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