Chapter Text
Adaman had efficiently cleansed his hands of drama for the day. He had been up since dawn and looked forward to retiring while the sun was still shining in the sky. All that awaited him at home were the comforts he always made time to appreciate—tea to savor, pillows stuffed with soft down, traded from the Pearl Clan in exchange for Diamond earthenware, and best of all, silence.
There was no better way to meditate and appreciate the living moment than in silence. Wind and brook and rustle of trees aside, of course. Such sounds didn't count as 'noise' to his ears.
Adaman's fellow clanmates waved and threw cheery greetings as he passed. He could sense nothing but high spirits and a sense of peace and security, and what more could a leader wish for than that?
Everything was peaceful.
Whistling breezily, Adaman ducked into his home and halted.
...Someone was already here.
He only paused long enough to register who, exactly, it was, before sliding his sandals off with a stifled sigh.
Of course. Who else would barge into a Clan Leader's home without a care in the world?
His guest had already made himself comfortable on his floor, pillows strewn around his body and hat flipped off to lounge freely.
Adaman stopped at the border of the island of cushions—seriously, his guest had gathered every one he could find—crossed his arms, and didn't bother dressing his tone up.
"Don't you look cozy."
Melli sat up swiftly. "Adaman! Finally, I was sick of waiting. You really should make hurrying home a priority in case someone needs you."
So much for peace and quiet. This wouldn't be over quickly, either; he knew this drama queen wouldn't explain a single damn thing unless he asked first.
Resigned to his fate and praying to Dialga for patience, Adaman dropped himself on criss-crossed legs onto one of the larger pillows, hands akimbo on his thighs. "Alright, I'll bite."
Melli gathered himself eagerly at the prospect of having all his attention. Like an Eevee eager for treats, he thought.
Through some hope that Melli might spill the beans without being prompted, Adaman held onto his question for a moment. Then another.
All Melli did was sit primly with expectant eyes.
Adaman pinched the bridge of his nose. At least he tried. "Why are you here this time, Melli?"
"I thought you'd never ask!"
"Out with it, then."
"Gladly." Melli made a show of reclining back amidst his makeshift pile and taking his sweet Dialga-given time doing so. "You see, Adaman, I'm here because I am in the middle of having my poor heart broken."
For someone allegedly on the verge of heartbreak, Melli looked remarkably put-together. What in the name of Dialga could this be about? It wouldn't be the first time Melli was dramatic about an infatuation of his not panning out.
"Is that so," Adaman flatly said.
"It is so."
"Is this like the time you sulked for a week because that Gingko merchant girl turned you down in front of her whole caravan?"
Melli gasped, utterly scandalized. "Adaman! I do not sulk. Besides, that was just a silly, temporary infatuation." He turned his nose up with a pout. "I'm not talking about a shallow crush. I'm serious this time."
"Sure, sure. So what's this about heartbreak then?"
His friend shifted amidst his pillow pile. "Well, for starters... I've been doing my absolute best to catch their attention to absolutely no avail."
"I fail to see how you could possibly go unnoticed," Adaman said, amused. "You're pretty good at getting attention when you want it."
Melli shot him an unappreciative scowl. "Their romantic attention, Adaman. No matter what I try, none of it's working," he groaned. "It's been a real blow to my pride! I'm supposed to be a professional at this. Do you have any idea how many people come to me for love advice? I'm an expert!"
Adaman held his tongue. Once Melli got enough momentum it was best to let him ramble it all out of his system without interruption. It'd be over fastest that way.
This wasn't the first time Melli had claimed to be really, actually, seriously serious about someone. For all Adaman knew, this would blow over in a week when somebody else who smiled and giggled in Melli's general direction found themselves the subject of his flirtation.
Adaman's only real curiosity was, who was it this time. Melli had a type, he had noticed long ago; cute, bubbly, flirtatious people who knew how to play coy. And there were only so many of those types left in Hisui that Melli hadn't tried his fleeting luck with.
"Imagine being so good at love only to completely fail when it matters the most," Melli bemoaned, flopping a despondent arm over his eyes. "Granted, he hasn't rejected me completely yet, which has to mean something, but I'm running out of options here."
Melli grew more agitated amidst his spread of pillows, and muttered, "It's absurd. That jerk doesn't realize what an honor it is that someone like me is paying him attention."
Curiosity took hold of his tongue.
"Which jerk exactly are you talking about?"
At this, Melli finally stumbled. His legs kicked as he scrambled into an upright sit, and he defensively twiddled with the end of a lock of hair.
"W-Well, who it is isn't so important, is it?" Melli deflected.
"If you want me to keep listening, you'll have to tell me who it is, Mel. Unless it's someone you're embarrassed to be infatuated with?"
"I'm not embarrassed!" Melli huffed with a face tinged pink, pulling on both twists of his hair. "And it's not an infatuation. I told you I'm serious about this. You're making light of my feelings, boy."
Adaman eyed the puff to his friend's flushed cheeks. Now this was interesting...
He grinned. "Don't make me start guessing. Come on, Mel, I won't make fun of you. Promise."
"Oh—Fine! If you insist on being persuasive." Melli let go of his hair and crossed his arms high over his chest. "It's... that other Warden. You know."
"...Arezu?"
"No! Ugh, we are so not compatible. I'm talking about the other Warden that resides in the Highlands. With the stupid hat."
Adaman's gaze flicked to the embroidered hood flopped over Melli's back. Then it rebounded back to Melli's face, because what?
"Ingo?" He made a face. "That's who you're all in a twist about? I thought you hated everyone in the Pearl—"
Pillows exploded in Melli's wake as he flung himself forward and made a desperate swat to cover his leader's mouth. Adaman smoothly knocked the incoming arm aside and shoved Melli harmlessly back onto his ass, grinning far too wide for his friend's apparent comfort and not caring one bit.
"I can't believe you. If the Clan knew about this they'd be gossiping for weeks."
"Which is exactly why you need to keep your voice down!" Melli hissed.
"I thought you said you weren't embarrassed about your crush?"
"Shut your mouth. It's not my feelings I'm embarrassed about—although, yes, I acknowledge how absurd it is that I've fallen for such an unkempt man—it's the fact that he's been spurning my advances!"
Adaman laughed and sat back on a braced arm, far more comfortable with wherever this was headed than he was initially, if not mildly blown away.
Honestly. Melli and Ingo? Not in a million years would he have guessed it. Ingo was the opposite of what he knew Melli to be attracted to. Guess that was a sign something deeper really was going on...
His initial impression was that those two seemed completely dysfunctional, but now that he thought about it a little harder, they did have a lot of balancing traits, and some unexpected similar ones, too. Such as their lack of hesitation to project their voices at high volumes whenever they felt the need. And their love for their Pokémon, and their pride in their duties.
Ingo's patience and reliability was renowned throughout Hisui, and those traits had already worked to temper Melli's short fuse in the few times Adaman witnessed them working together. Not many could get Melli to settle down for any reason.
So, not an impossible match, he supposed...?
It all hinged on whether or not Ingo could actually like Melli back.
For all his flaws, Melli wasn't terrible. Nearly the entire clan acknowledged him as a creative thinker and a beauty, even if he was rather selfish, whiny, impulsive, quick to insult, prideful, inconsiderate, and prone to holding grudges over the pettiest things. And needy. That too.
Having been subjected to all those negative traits, and on a concerningly regular basis at that, Adaman had better insight than most towards the positives as well. He knew that Melli was plenty loyal, and that a lot of his more in-your-face traits were manufactured to be that way for overcompensation's sake. He really wasn't that bad once you got underneath his shell.
Melli was quite the romantic idealist, too. If Melli was serious about pursuing someone, they were in for one thorough courtship. 'Subtle' wasn't in Melli's repertoire at all once he set his mind to something, and combining that with his penchant for flowery romance?
Adaman could only imagine what Ingo had been exposed to thus far if Melli really had 'been doing his absolute best.'
"Tell me this, then." He sat forward and interrupted his friend's wallowing. "Maybe we can pin down what's going on. Exactly what kind of advances have you tried on him? You didn't half-ass any of it, did you?"
Melli's nose wrinkled at the very idea. "Who do you take me for, Adaman. I've done everything perfectly, according to tradition. Above and beyond, even!"
The Warden's hands suddenly fiddled within his lap, and his storm-grey eyes lowered. "Not that it's been good enough for him. But if you insist on hearing the details..."
.
...
.
The flutter to his heart and jerkiness of his hands wouldn't stop him. No, Melli was determined! He didn't wake up before the crack of dawn just to wuss out at this stage. He had long made up his mind about this.
In his arms and piled over his Skuntank's tail were piles and garlands of flowers he had collected from all over Hisui. The Highlands didn't have much in the way of color, which wouldn't serve one bit for his plan. He needed true, breathtaking, elaborate beauty. The more colors, the stronger the feelings conveyed.
The bogs and mires where his clan resided held plenty of gorgeous blooms. The cantankerous and poisonous Pokémon that dwelled there would deter most, but not him! He of all people knew how to deal with creatures of a toxic ilk.
He had, however, almost gotten roasted by a mother Arcanine when he ventured too close to her den in the Coastlands in his quest to nab the gorgeous blue flowers blossoming nearby, but he had gotten away without a single singe, and with the flowers, to boot!
Melli blew out a bracing sigh, eyed the homestead before him, and silently set to work.
His height made it easy to reach the front eaves of the yurt. The style of the Pearl Clan's homes were suspiciously similar to his own Clan's—copycat much?—and that made it easy to quickly and efficiently weave the garlands through struts and around poles and drape them over the jutting canopy sheltering the entrance from the elements.
There. All done. A veritable paradise of flowers! When Ingo woke up and stepped foot outside his home he would be embraced by showers of color all around.
Melli heard a shift from within and his heart lodged in his throat.
He dashed away to the nearest hiding place. It wasn't customary to stick around and watch, but how could he resist, when he was so looking forward to seeing the object of his admirations stepping out and seeing a Declaration upon their eaves?
Ah! There he was! Yes, yes, gaze upon the gorgeous handiwork and unparalleled aesthetic sense of someone truly serious! Why, he should be blushing and looking around in amazement any second now.
Ingo touched the flowers hanging from his eaves with a furrow to his brow. He shuffled farther out to get a better look at his home, and Melli watched with bated breath as the man stroked his chin and stared at the elaborate creation.
Unable to contain the flips and twirls his insides were doing, Melli ducked out of sight with a proud, pounding heart. His legs wanted to kick with excitement—and that wouldn't do while he wanted to go unnoticed.
When he had collected himself enough, he peered back over the rock, heart still pounding.
Ingo was already slouching away with no more swoon to his step than normal. None at all, that is to say!
Was he... not impressed? No, he knew Ingo wasn't the most expressive man around. Surely he was swooning on the inside. But to not even spend a minute inspecting it... Surely his effort was worth more than just a cursory glance?
Melli swallowed and gestured to his Skuntank that it was time to head home. This was a blow to his pride, but he couldn't give up just yet.
Okay, so perhaps Melli had miscalculated. Maybe Ingo wasn't the type to enjoy elaborate displays. Surely that was the only reason why his Declaration had fallen flat; Ingo must prefer minimalistic and refined gestures instead.
Melli hunched over the piece of paper he had 'borrowed' from Adaman's tent, brush in hand.
If Ingo wanted refined, refined he would get. The great Melli was a man of many artistic talents!
Poetry was child's play. And something he took extremely seriously. Recitations were a classic romantic gesture that demonstrated the delicacy of one's thought and one's ability to see the world as a beautiful place; all desirable qualities in a partner.
Now, what to pick as the subject of focus...?
His heart quickened and his face warmed as he pondered Ingo's traits.
There were so many inspirational points. Ingo's eyes, reminiscent of the full luminous moon.
Or his eloquence, his turn of phrase and clarity of thought rivaling Melli's own at times.
Or his battle prowess, endlessly admirable. 'Graceful commander' would be an excellent opener with its five syllables. And battling was important to him, wasn't it? Yes, perfect! He would stay up all night perfecting his prose!
The very next day, Melli sprang upon the subject of his inspiration at the first opportunity and took a dramatic knee, hand to heart and one to sky, and sang his artful composition. Not only was the poem itself important, but its graceful delivery mattered just as much, if not more, and Melli prided himself on all his oral skills.
Once he was done, Ingo only stared at him.
And asked him, what was that?
Rather than subject himself to the humiliation of having his artistic sensibilities mercilessly picked apart (it wasn't good enough! it must not have been good enough for Ingo to throw such a scathing critique!), Melli turned tail and scurried back home without another word, ears burning bright enough that he hoped a Braviary would pluck him up from the sky and put him out of his misery.
He couldn't give up.
His feelings weren't so feeble as to give up after a few shameful failures! He still had one more idea up his sleeve. The ultimate gesture of romantic intent. Sure, it was a little brazen, especially for someone who'd made zero progress with the man he'd fallen for, but there'd be no ignoring this one. In fact, he'd like to see Ingo try!
He worked up the courage to approach. At this time of day it was common for Ingo to be lounging near a sparse meadow while his numerous Pokémon romped nearby.
Melli puffed his chest, raised his head high, and strutted straight up, gift clenched behind his back and throat dry as the mountain they stood upon.
"Ingo."
He was acknowledged with a bland grunt, and the man sitting on the ground twisted around. Lady Sneasler's head was pinning his lap to the ground, no doubt enjoying the luxury of Ingo's hands petting her—Melli felt jealous of a Pokémon, of all things!—and her eye cracked open to stare at who had disturbed her nap.
He would much prefer if Ingo was standing up to receive this gift, but the longer Ingo's pale eyes rested on him, the worse his nerves jittered. Curse that intense gaze and curse that stupid stoic handsome face.
"Melli?"
He squeaked hearing his name served on that gruff, even voice.
"Is there something you need from me?" Ingo asked.
Everything, actually. Melli swallowed and wrangled his voice together.
"H-Here! Just take this!"
He thrust his gift forward.
Shining in the sunlight was a handmade bracelet.
He had pulled out all the stops for this. The cord was thin and expertly spun and braided. Its beads were tumbled and polished until their gloss was like oiled pearls, and at the very center was a clouded purple stone that he had found on the beach. It was the exact shade of his hair and a blatant symbol of who the bracelet was from.
Curious, Ingo reached up for it. He was taking it! Melli swore his knees were a second away from shaking to bits when the light weight of the bracelet left his fingers.
Did this mean Ingo accepted his intentions? Did he finally do well enough?
Lady Sneasler, whose attention was caught by the sparkle, reached up with a curious claw and tapped the stone, and Melli bit back his cry for her to not touch it.
"It's pretty," Ingo said, holding it close to his face. "Did you make this yourself?"
Yes! This was it!
"With such craftsmanship, who else could have made it but me. It's all yours."
Ingo blinked in mild surprise. "Are you sure you wish to give this to me?"
Melli's throat went terribly dry. "There's—nobody else I would have given it to."
"Ah. Thank you, then."
Melli's stomach plummeted when Ingo slipped the bracelet into his pocket.
He didn't put it on.
He didn't reject it, but he didn't put it on.
Nerves finally choking his chest like a Tangrowth's vines, Melli skittered back a few steps. Maybe Ingo was just too shy to put it on right away. Maybe he wanted to look at it more closely and judge its quality more before deeming it fit to decorate his person for all to see.
Maybe Ingo just didn't want anybody watching when he threw Melli's feelings away like trash.
Melli stammered some excuse about his Lord Electrode needing him and booked it out of there with shame lapping at his heels.
In the days and weeks that followed, he never saw that bracelet again.
.
...
.
By the time Melli finished his recantation, his face had gotten blotchy red, lips bitten tight, and his brows had taken on a truly distraught knit. His hands were clenched stiff around the bottom hem of his tunic.
Adaman could only sit in surprise. Melli really had gone all out. This was beyond everything he knew Melli had done with his previous infatuations. A flirt here, a come-on there. Nothing as emotionally committed as what he just heard.
The flowers were a traditional Declaration and Ingo had all but ignored them. The poetry was far more aggressive, and even that wasn't enough to impress the stoic Warden. And the bracelet... It must have taken forever to make, and he knew Melli put his whole heart and soul into it.
Adaman ran his fingers through his hair and awkwardly held the back of his neck. This was serious; his friend had every right to feel humiliated after such cold treatment.
"He must hate me!" Melli wailed anew. "But he's too nice to spurn me like he should if he doesn't care for my advances!"
"Melli..."
"Unless his apathy is a sign I should be trying harder? But oh, I've pulled out all the stops for him," he cried. "How can I possibly do better? His standards must be astronomically high. As are mine, but to think that I'm the one falling short here!"
"Melli—"
"How can the great Melli be brought so low like this? What am I lacking? I must be as romantically viable as a worm in his eyes! I'm doomed to be alone for the rest of my life!"
"Melli!" Adaman sharply said, and sighed when his friend lifted his head with a miserable wobble to his lip. "...You're putting on quite a show here."
"How dare you find entertainment in my f-failures. I thought you were my friend," Melli whined and wiped at his nose.
"Just listen to me. I have something for you to consider."
"If it's advice then give it to me. I'm tired of being miserable."
Adaman grabbed a nearby pillow and chucked it straight for the face. It was caught with a squawk and slammed down into Melli's lap with full red-faced indignation.
"You are making fun of me!"
"I'm allowed to, given how you seem to have forgotten something important here. Love must have done something to your brain."
Melli's jaw dropped and Adaman didn't bother waiting for another round of sputtering and arguing to start.
"You've been courting Ingo the only way you know how," he began. "But are you so sure that's the right way to flirt with him?"
Melli fired a venomous glare whose effect was dampened by how puffy his eyes were. "What other way is there, Adaman. I've done everything I could and it's all been useless."
"I'm just saying. That Warden fell from the sky a long time ago. Memory loss and everything. Don't tell me you seriously forgot that about him."
"How could I? I fail to see your point."
Adaman sighed, pressed over his face in exasperation, and took on the same tone one used to spell something out to a toddler. "Ingo might be part of a Clan, but it's possible that our gestures don't carry the same significance to him, Melli. Especially if nobody's ever tried courting him before."
When no protest came, he started getting his hopes up that his point was sinking in. One... Two...
Melli whisked upright, horror etched into every corner of his face. "No... You mean..."
"I'm afraid so, Mel."
"But... but... All that effort, Adaman!" he bawled, tears gushing in earnest. "I wrote poetry for him! And all those flowers took ages to collect! You're telling me I might as well have r-romanced a Sudowoodoo for all he understood me!"
"Hey, that's not what I said at all."
Melli glared through glistening lashes. "It kind of was, Adaman."
...Yeah, it kind of was.
What a sight...
Feeling genuine pity for his friend, Adaman scooted to Melli's side and patted the man on his inconsolable back.
"This was just a big w-w-waste of time," Melli hiccuped. "Just like you would have said if I told you about this from the start. It would have saved me mountains of heartbreak."
"I don't think you've wasted your time," he soothingly said. "Gifts are gifts, I'm sure you've raised his opinion of you, if nothing else. Keep at it."
"Thanks," Melli drawled, and pushed his hand away with a sniffle. "I'll be sure to keep throwing myself at a man who doesn't even see me that way. Wonderful advice, Adaman. Completely not humiliating!"
He only rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to encourage you, Mel. I'm just glad you picked a good one to chase. Ingo might be..."
Melli's wallowing instantly switched to defensiveness. He wiped his sleeve across his blotchy face and glared with reddened eyes. "Might be what."
"Eccentric to some," Adaman smoothly said, "but he's a capable Warden and a terrifying trainer." And responsible in all the ways that you're not. "You picked a good one."
"Hmph." Melli sniffled and rubbed his eyes. "I don't need you to tell me I have good taste..."
He grinned. There was the prideful man he knew. "Although your quarry might need a little help realizing that."
"Ugh. Don't remind me."
"Chin up. From what I know, Ingo's a smart guy. He'll probably figure out what you've been doing before long."
The incoherent mumble Melli made could roughly be translated to I don't believe you.
"If all else fails, you can always skip tradition and just tell him your feelings to his face."
Melli looked, to put it plainly, terrified at the prospect. Not surprising. The guy was about as emotionally honest as a wild Staraptor, equally likely to bite the hands of people feeding it than those who just looked at it funny from across the room.
For Melli's sake, he hoped everything worked itself out. In part so that he didn't have to endure another round of miserable blubbering. He'd never been good at dealing with tears even if they came from someone he'd known since childhood.
Adaman shrugged and clapped his best friend hard on the back to knock his melancholy loose, or at least help unstuff his sinuses through force. Melli squawked and hiccuped.
"Th-There's no way I can just..."
"Ah, but sometimes you must. That's the price of love, my friend. No choice but to embrace the terrifying. Just give it a little more time and see if it doesn't work out. I have a feeling your luck's bound to improve so long as you don't give up."