Chapter Text
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
He hummed as the rhythmic, constant tapping of what was his Starter filled the room. After almost four years now, the lingering, tired thought to stop the Psychic came and went still.
...Hearing the tune again no longer hurts so badly, without them to sing the words. Tyson never had much luck with getting the words pronounced right - and Artemis…
Tyson shook his head and got up - stretching a little and wincing as not only did a few joints pop, a few of his burns flared in minor pain.
The tapping stops.
His Starter was on his blind side - literally so.
"You don't have to do this all the time," he huffs - turning to the Fighting type. Their gazes met for a second; and they both looked away.
A small ritual. A small comfort.
(It used to have more. It involved waking up his perpetual night owl of a guardian to manage her store, or calling her when he was away.)
(And it was never quite as quiet as this.)
Tyson starts to hum, going through the motions of setting things up and preparing their meals. Chop the berries, prep the batter - simple, effective, and a routine. Gallade watches over and helps throughout.
Tyson huffs as he catches Gallade teleport some of the food to their proper places - dry, sweet berries for Sunflorid right by the flowers out in front, some frozen meals for Poipole set out on the table, alongside the bitter and sour salads Carracosta loved for some reason.
Tyson rolls his eyes as he raises his non-dominant, un-bandaged hand to push down his Mightyena. "Down boy. You're too fucking large to go climbing on people, bud," he chides, as his Mightyena lets out a pleading sound. He sighs, shaking his head as the wolf starts to beg. "I said no, Mightyena. Down!"
Mightyena finally gave up - letting out a dramatic whine and just lay on the ground.
"Go up and wake up Artemis if you want cuddles, buddy. You know he loves them." He holds back a fond laugh as the canid immediately perks up, tongue lolling out of his mouth as the Mightyena heads into the kitchen proper.
Then he stares down at the Poffin mix he was preparing. "Add the sediments, then… the only reason I'm not tossing this aside is because that dragon is going to complain and punching it is annoying." He tells the Starter he just knows is laughing at him.
He just knew Gallade shook his head. The dragon is harmless. They adore you.
"And they can stay the fuck outside, harmless or not." He shoots back, ignoring the last few words, as he pulls on his apron.
Gallade just shook his head. So Dragoyle is to watch over the store-front then.
"...Did I stutter?" Tyson doesn't look at the Fighting type as he pulls on a well-loved jacket. It smells of promises and loss. And baking.
"They stay out of the store. There's no room for them inside with the usual rush hour people."
Gallade doesn't reply and Tyson turns in confusion - the Psychic warrior merely points outside, then at the clock.
Right on time.
Just what he needed to face the day.
"Right. Go ahead and tell Garboder I'll get his breakfast in a few minutes - and get Artemis down here before he misses them." He says, automatically going through familiar motions.
Making coffee like this, as well as pulling out the muffins - Tyson didn't need his Starter hovering over him for something so simple.
Of course. We don't want the kid to be loud during the morning rush. Gallade probably has a smirk on his face, Tyson thinks. Then raises his hand in the mon's general direction to flip him off.
"...If you flipped Gallade off, does that mean I get to do it to someone too?"
Tyson froze a little, before turning to his dear, precious younger brother and squatting down to their height. "Absolutely not, kid." He says seriously, hands on their shoulders. "That would be rude and being rude to strangers, unless they started it, is very bad."
"...Okay!" Artemis smiles, after a moment or two. Tyson didn't know what was on their mind, but Artemis is a good kid. They'll behave.
He smiles back, ignoring the habitual pain as he gets up and leads the child to the muffins. "Alright, now - do you want to put decorations for Misters Ingo and Emmet again?"
Artemis perks up and tries to clamber onto the counter. "Can we put the muffins in the containers we usually give to trainers who try the Battle Subway this time?"
"Sure, just don't—child, sweet brother of mine, do not put your shoes on the countertop." Tyson was exasperated as he carefully pulled the child off the counter. Artemis is doing a very good impression of liquid as they try to get out of their older brother's grip, incredibly unaware that Gallade was also on the case.
"But. Countertop seat is great?"
"Not with your shoes on. Or without clean socks." Tyson plops the child onto the ground. "Okay, so apron on and we can start, alright? Remember the schedule, and safety first and all that. I'll go look for the containers, so you can go ahead and start decorating yourself."
Artemis perks up, nodding. "Yessir!" He chirps, as he rushes around the kitchen to put on his apron. As the younger boy putters around the kitchen, with Mightyena keeping a close eye from the door to the rest of the bakery, Tyson and Gallade search for something in the store room.
As always, Gallade is by his trainer's right side. Never again.
It should be here. I'll retrieve them.
"Cool, thanks. Place the rest by the usual spot." Tyson nods, grabbing two train-shaped containers. He shakes his head a little as he gets out of the room, followed by Gallade. "Artemis, how's the decorating?"
"Um… okay I think?" His brother was frozen in that particular way Tyson learned to mean that he was thinking. "It's not like your stuff though."
He snorts. "I've had practice. Now, let's see…" he raises a brow as he gets closer. Those were. He feels his eye twitch. "...Joltik and Litwick, huh?" His voice was tight as he stared down at a cute design based on the menaces that somehow kept getting into his bakery.
"Mhm! I thought about train stuff, but that felt boring so… Pokemon!" Artemis grinned brightly, oblivious to their older brother's irritation.
One. Two. Breathe.
Tyson exhaled, helped by the fact his trusted partner was beside him again.
"Well, it's very good. A bit rushed, but hey, practice makes perfect and you're already a lot better than I was." He smiled, ruffling his brother's hair - to the poor boy's protests, which only grew louder once Mightyena realized that his second favorite human wasn’t so busy anymore.
"Mightyena, s-stop—that tickles—"
Laughter.
There was a soft smile on his face. His one remaining eye closed as he imagined—
"Mom, look! I got it!"
"Oh, well done Tyson! You and Ralts are going to be amazing."
"Really?"
"Of course. And I bet your sibling is going to be amazed to see their superstar older brother in the future~"
Tyson's smile warps into a bitter one.
Gallade placed a hand on his shoulder. Tyson?
The former coordinator shook his head. "It's nothing. Now is the dragon earning his keep or—"
Ah yes, Dragoyle says that—
"Good morning to you as well, Dragoyle!"
Tyson sighs as Artemis perks up - the young boy recognizing the loud voice of one of the people he idolized; and generally, where one was, the other was sure to follow
Before Artemis could even ask, Tyson sighs and nods. "Go ahead, Art."
"Thanks!" Artemis dislodges himself from the grip of Mightyena and grabs the boxes of Litwik and Joltik decorated train boxes. Gallade and Tyson follow at a sedate pace with the drinks carefully held in the Pokemon's psychic grip.
"Mister Ingo, Mister Emmet! Here's the usual, thank you for your patronage!" Artemis was outside, still in his apron and rocking on his heels - barely keeping himself from jumping out of excitement.
"Thank you, Artemis. It is good to see you as well."
"Good morning. These are verrry nice. Did you design these?"
Just a typical day, in the bakery.
Tyson smiled as Artemis replied enthusiastically. So, so different from four years ago.