Chapter 136: Melancholy
Xiu, understanding Professor Oak's palpable disappointment with the meal, didn't try to force conversation or offer false reassurances. He simply focused on finishing his own food, demonstrating the basic courtesy of a dining companion, respecting the older man's quiet melancholy.
He'd only taken a few more bites, however, when two figures emerged from the kitchen doorway. One was the waitress who had served them earlier. The other, wiping his hands on a stained apron, was a middle-aged man with tired eyes but a friendly face – presumably the boss, the chef, her husband.
The man walked directly towards their table, observing them both for a moment before speaking, his tone polite but carrying an undercurrent of concern. "Excuse me, gentlemen," he began hesitantly. "My wife mentioned… you weren't entirely satisfied with the dishes?"
Professor Oak looked up from his reverie, studying the man's face intently. A flicker of recognition, then confusion, crossed his features. "You…" he murmured, his voice uncertain. "I remember…"
The chef's face suddenly lit up with understanding. "Ah! You must not have visited in quite some time, sir?" he asked respectfully.
"It's been… over a year, yes," Professor Oak confirmed, still looking slightly puzzled. "Closer to two, perhaps."
"That explains it," the chef nodded sadly. "I took over the cooking only this past year, sir. The previous chef… my father… he passed away."
He explained briefly, his voice tinged with grief. "Collapsed from exhaustion about a year ago. We spent a month with him in the hospital, but…" He trailed off, swallowing hard. "My skills… they still can't quite match his. I apologize if the taste wasn't what you remembered."
He glanced at their plates. "Sir, since you clearly remember our restaurant from my father's time, you must be an old, valued customer. Please, this meal is on the house. No charge."
The proprietress standing beside him quickly tugged his sleeve, whispering, "They already paid, dear."
"Ah." The chef looked momentarily flustered.
"Please, don't worry," Xiu interjected quickly, sensing the awkwardness. He waved a dismissive hand. "The food was perfectly fine, truly delicious. We enjoyed it very much." He then asked the chef gently, "Your father…?"
"He… he loved this place," the chef replied quietly, a flicker of pain in his eyes. "Worked himself too hard, I suppose."
"I'm very sorry for your loss," Xiu offered sincerely. Though he hadn't known the man, the palpable sense of loss was enough to warrant an apology.
"Thank you," the chef murmured. "Please, enjoy the rest of your meal." After another polite nod, he turned and led his wife back towards the kitchen, leaving Xiu and Professor Oak in silence once more.
Only then did Xiu look across at Professor Oak. "You knew, didn't you?" he asked quietly. "You suspected something was wrong the moment you tasted the food."
"Hmm," Oak acknowledged with a low hum, staring down into his half-empty bowl. "Thirty years I've been coming to this place, off and on. The taste… it was part of the memory." He sighed heavily. "Things change. People leave. It makes one feel… old." The earlier melancholy returned, deeper now.
Xiu understood. It wasn't just about the food's flavor. It was about the passage of time, the loss of familiar anchors, the unsettling reminder of mortality. Concerns common to the elderly, perhaps amplified in someone like Oak who had witnessed so much history firsthand.
They left the restaurant soon after. Xiu felt satisfied, full from the simple, hearty meal. Professor Oak, however, had barely touched his food after the conversation with the chef, his usual robust appetite seemingly vanished.
"Right," Oak said as they reached the truck, his voice subdued. "I need to… visit some old friends. People I haven't seen in years." He looked at Xiu, his usual commanding presence softened by a rare vulnerability. "You head back to the Pokémon Center first."
Xiu immediately understood. Oak needed time alone, time to process, and perhaps to reminisce. "Of course, Professor," he replied readily. Then, sensing Oak's low mood, he asked gently, "Are you sure you'll be alright?"
"I'll be fine," Oak waved dismissively, though his eyes looked distant. He hesitated, then asked, almost as an afterthought, "Unless… you want to come along?"
"Thank you for the offer, Professor," Xiu replied tactfully, "but I think I'll just explore Viridian City a bit more on my own. Don't worry about me." He knew intruding on Oak's private visits with old friends would be inappropriate, awkward for everyone involved. Attending gatherings of elderly acquaintances wasn't his idea of a good time anyway. He needed space himself.
Oak seemed relieved by the refusal. "Alright then. See you back at the Center later this evening." He nodded curtly, then turned and walked slowly down the old street, disappearing around a corner.
Xiu watched him go, then turned in the opposite direction, aimlessly wandering the historic streets of Viridian's old town.
He admired the architecture, the patina of age, imagining the bustling life these streets must have witnessed decades, perhaps centuries, ago. It felt like stepping back through time, the ghosts of the past lingering in the quiet atmosphere.
He walked for a long time, eventually finding himself leaving the old district behind, the buildings becoming sparser again as he reached the city's outskirts. Ahead lay a large, open green space – a public park.
Unlike the wilder, untamed paddock behind Oak's Institute, this was clearly a manicured recreational area. A vast expanse of neatly trimmed grass stretched towards a small, gently rolling hill in the distance.
It reminded him vaguely of the plains near the Fuchsia Safari Zone, but far more… civilized. No knee-high grass hiding unseen Pokémon here. Just smooth, even lawn. And people. Lots of people.
Xiu realized, checking his watch, that he'd been walking for hours. It was late afternoon, approaching evening.
The park was filled with city dwellers enjoying the pleasant weather. Large and small picnic blankets dotted the lawn. Couples strolled hand-in-hand. Families played games. Friends sat in circles, chatting and laughing. Children shrieked with delight, chasing each other across the grass, their laughter echoing like wind chimes.
Several Trainers were interacting playfully with their Pokémon – a Pidgeotto soaring overhead, a Growlithe fetching a ball, an Oddish resting peacefully beside its owner.
It was a scene of perfect, ordinary, peaceful urban life.
For some reason, watching it all – the easy laughter, the casual companionship, the simple joys – filled Xiu with a profound sense of… weariness.
Fatigue settled over him, something deeper than just physical exhaustion. He found a quiet spot on the edge of the expansive lawn, near a cluster of trees, and sat down on the grass, just watching the scenes unfold before him, feeling utterly detached, an observer on the periphery.
Time blurred. He sat there, lost in thought, watching the families, the couples, the children, the Pokémon… until the setting sun painted the sky in brilliant hues, signaling the end of the day. A faint, helpless smile touched his lips.
"Guess I'm really not suited for this…" he murmured softly to himself, the thought carrying a weight of resignation. He looked out across the darkening lawn one last time, his gaze distant. Then, with a sigh, he stood up, preparing to head back towards the sterile anonymity of the Pokémon Center.
Just as he was about to turn away, a voice called out.
"Hey! Excuse me! Young man!"
Xiu paused, initially assuming the call wasn't for him. But the voice persisted, closer now.
"Huh?" He turned, surprised. A middle-aged man, thin and dressed in simple, casual clothes, was walking towards him, smiling warmly.
Beside the man stood two companions: a woman, also middle-aged, dressed plainly, her face lined with hardship but still retaining hints of former beauty; and clinging shyly to the man's leg, a very small, delicate-looking girl dressed in a simple princess-style dress, her features as fine and fragile as porcelain, looking up at Xiu with wide, uncertain eyes.