The group of just over a dozen students of varying ages sat upon several short benches arranged into curved rows facing Samantha. The majority of them were female and kimono clad, identifying them as residents of the Gym, while still others seemed to just be Celadon residents interested in taking a few of the classes Erika made available in their off hours. Most were armed with clipboards and pens, taking any opportunity to scribble down notes about the lesson or their own musings, but Miranda spotted two or three with large, heavy laptops who's whirring internal fans were barely audible over the distant sounds of the mundane avians and insects that dwelled within the arboretum. As Miranda lifted the hem of her borrowed garment to ascend the wooden steps just behind Erika who barely seemed to notice them, she felt a nervous chill run down her spine. 'I didn't think there'd be this many people,' she thought to herself, the girl's fingers feeling cold despite the pleasantly maintained ambient temperature. Samantha smiled, giving Erika a respectful nod as those assembled all turned to glance at the woman, her arrival causing a few whispered conversations to spark and quickly die away. For her part, however, Erika merely stood patiently, looking contemplative as her apprentice finished off her lecture on Poe. As Samantha spoke, Miranda took the opportunity to size up the crowd, self-consciously pushing her glasses higher up her nose as she watched the group intently hanging on Samantha's every word with occasional glances at Erika. 'She's so calm all the time," the courier mused, following their gaze in time to see the small smile upon her hostess's lips as the woman steepled her fingers thoughtfully, 'And so self-assured. It must be nice to be so in control.' The woman's emerald eyes glanced back at her at that moment, causing Miranda to blush and quickly look away, thankful that her bangs partially hid her expression. "My Lady?" came Samantha's polite inquiry, her tone holding a portion of her mentor's all knowingness but with just a hint of something more mischievous. Erika nodded slowly, causing several people to hold their breath as the woman silently glided across the floor towards Samantha, the floorboards neither creaking nor straining against her weight making it seem as though the Gym Leader truly were floating across them. 'She could walk across eggshells and not break any, couldn't she?' Miranda chuckled inwardly, smiling and shaking her head a little in wonder as the woman leaned in close and stood upon her toes to whisper a few words into Samantha's ear. As the class waited, Erika gently pushed Samantha's long red locks over one shoulder, her lips pressing close to her apprentice's earlobe and barely speaking audibly. A pleasant chill ran down Samantha's spine as Erika's lips brushed against her skin, the woman's warm breath carrying her sweet voice like an ethereal wind. "Y-yes, My Lady," she breathed, nodding as Erika smiled and took a careful step backwards. As her class looked on expectantly, Samantha took a deep breath, casting her mentor a quick glance that promised more than she was willing to say at that moment before smiling and speaking more briskly than she intended. "Well, class," Samantha explained, her cheeks more flushed than she'd had preferred they'd be, "It seems that we have a guest speaker today. Someone whose brought with her some original works that may help you with this weeks project." Miranda felt her cheeks flare hotly, and the heavy feeling of nervousness in her stomach intensify as Samantha's glaze turned to her. "Miranda?" came the woman's expectant inquiry, her smile half-teasing as the courier gulped again and shuffled forward, nearly tripping over the hem of kimono. "Here," she muttered under her breath with a nervous smile, for no apparent reason recalling classes she took as a child and how her best-friend had always inquired "What? What'd I do now?!" every time their teacher took attendance. 'Right now I envy you, Zack,' the courier thought to herself, stepping up beside Samantha and clutching her poetry book in a white knuckled grip, 'Or at least your complete lack of shame of making a spectacle of yourself in front of a crowd...' The wooden podium seemed far too small for her liking as Miranda stepped behind it and stared out at the expectant looking faces. The courier swallowed hard, doing her best to make her smile not seem quite so nervous as she set the hard bound tome before her and opened it to about the middle. "Um, hi," the girl said nervously, her mind working quickly to find the right words as several people smiled back and a few gave short, encouraging waves, "Um, okay, Erika has asked me to read to you a little something from my book of poetry. Just to give you a bit of background, I started this book about three of four years ago, so most of the earlier stuff is just kinda silly and I'd hate to subject you to it." The class chuckled quietly as Miranda blushed, bowing her head a little to hide behind her hair as Erika and her apprentice stood by quietly, their expressions almost reassuring. "But, the poem I'd like to share with you today," the courier continued, clearing her throat and subconsciously moving a loose strand of hair back over her shoulder and around one ear, "is at least somewhat recent. Sorta like a milestone in my life, I guess. My mom always told me that people who keep diaries are just asking to have them read by others, so I kinda figured that using poetry would be not only be a more cryptic way of recording my life, but also a more entertaining way." The class became deafly still as even the gentle, artificial breeze from the environmental systems seemed just a little too quiet, the avians and insects that inhabited the arboretum suddenly ending their distant chirping and buzzing, as if the entire world were holding its breath. "This one here," explained Miranda, her tone as serious as any her Mother would have used, "Might not be the best thing I've ever written, but Erika requested something thematic with my life at this point. It concerns the relationship that I was in when I first signed on as a courier about a little more than a year ago. It... It ended rather abruptly for reasons which I'd rather not get into, but all things considered, this is actually one of my brighter poems from that time." The courier closed her eyes a moment, biting back the tears that seemed to press painfully against the backs of her eyes, seemingly desperate to rush forth and flow over her cheeks. 'No,' she told herself sternly, taking a deep breath and feeling thankful that her shaking wasn't as apparent through the loose fitting kimono, 'Mother always says tears should only fall upon the shoulder of a loved one, never wasted on a gawking crowd. Besides, he's not worth it.' With a deep breath, Miranda set down her heavy book, whose gleaming white pages had been only half filled with both black ink and tears, upon the podium. Swallowing hard as she pushed her glasses up her nose, not daring to look up at the expectant, deafly silent crowd, the courier began... "This is the day, That marks the night that we met, This is the final reminder, Of the love that I thought would absolve my debt... I thought that I had found, The final answer to my pain, I foolishly believed that my punishment was at an end, Believing that all these nightmares had finally been slain... I could once see in my hand, The only sweetness that could ever hope to end my bitter torment, But even when I gave you my life and heart, It was not enough to keep the treasure of your love that to me was Heaven sent... It seems that no matter what I sacrificed to make you happy, No matter not how many tears I cried, There was nothing I did that meant anything to you, And when you left, my last vestige of my belief in love died... So now that you are gone, this day has no real meaning, Just as I know that my love for you never really mattered, And you probably have no memory of our time together, For my heart was the only one to be shattered..." The courier's words trailed off into silence as her fingers held the edges of the podium far too firmly. There was not a sound as Miranda gritted her teeth and closed her eyes tightly, her body shaking with repressed emotion, trying to keep it all in the way her Mother always did so well. She barely felt the light touch upon her shoulder, nor heard the soft words that were hardly spoken above a whisper by Erika. Yet, almost of their own volition, Miranda felt her tense muscles relax, and the searing heat that seemed to fill her blood cool as the woman spoke. "It's okay, Miri," Erika said softly, nearly causing Miranda to chuckle. A part of her had been ready to lash out with a sarcastic comment should her hostess have asked the usual "Are you alright?" gibberish most people asked more out of habit than actual concern. Miranda wasn't certain she'd've been able to stifle it had the Gym Leaders words been different, but the ones the woman had chosen were the ones the courier had somehow needed to hear. Glancing sideways up into the seemingly endless emerald expanse of Erika's infinitely compassionate eyes, Miranda had to fight to keep the small smile that threatened to encroach upon her lips from manifesting. "Please don't call me that," she whispered in reply, closing her eyes once again as Erika's arm went slowly about her shoulders without even so much as the rustle of fabric to break the moment, "That was my Father's name for me. I, I never even let Derrick call me that." "But it's what you needed to hear," the woman said sagely as Miranda turned to face her, almost automatically slipping her arms about Erika and accepting the muchly needed embrace. "My Father's words," Miranda finished, allowing the small smile to appear a moment before fading as Erika released her and glided almost ghost-like out of her arms to address the class. The assembled group of students had yet to break their respectful silence as Erika slowly flipped the courier's poetry book closed. There was a split second's hesitation as the woman's eyes caught a glimpse of the long, jagged slash marks in the black leather cover. The image flashed into Erika's mind and she quickly filed it away for future reference as Miranda stood just to one side and behind her, the courier's eyes fixed upon her book. "I believe what our guest has shown us," Erika explained, casting Miranda a reassuring smile, causing the courier to blush as the class's collective eyes turned back to her for a heartbeat's time, "Is an example of poetry that's from the heart. Samantha can stand here and tell you all again and again that anyone can write with their head. That written words can be strung together and made to rhyme, but though they'll appeal to the mind, they won't appeal to the soul. I think that's what Ms. Lilcamp has shown us today. Wouldn't you agree?" There was a quiet murmur of approval as the group of people nodded, some more enthusiastically that others, causing Miranda to glance up at the sound of someone's sniffle. The girl blushed as she spotted a few people with the beginnings of tears in their eyes and stood pondering a moment, barely hearing Erika's words as Samantha took her place at the podium. "Once you've had a chance to calm down a bit, perhaps you'll share something a little happier?" came Erika's sweet sounding tone, suddenly breaking Miranda out of her reverie. "Um, ah, sure!" the courier stammered, glancing in either direction before catching Erika on her left-hand side, feeling the woman's arm slip through her own as her poetry book was pressed into her hand, "I'll just have to find something that doesn't sound too sappy or silly." "We are our own worst critics," Erika assured, leading Miranda back out of the gazebo as the courier glanced back to catch Samantha's knowing smile, "Just because your words are inspired by something you now see as trivial and silly, doesn't mean that they won't sound beautiful to one who has no inkling of their true meaning." Miranda glanced back at her hostess and smiled. "I sincerely doubt that there's anything you don't know the true meaning of," she chuckled as Erika closed her eyes, smiling thoughtfully. "You may be right," the woman responded with a soft chuckle, her emerald eyes glancing down at the tome Miranda held protectively under one arm, "But there is one thing I haven't been able to decipher as of yet." "Oh?" Erika's free hand slid from her sleeve to touch the soft cover of the book, her delicate fingers momentarily caressing the deep gashes in the cover. "These," she said carefully, glancing up at Miranda with some concern, "Are they a symbol of yet another tragedy in your life?" Miranda couldn't help but smirk, and finally laugh as they neared the bench they'd previously left. "Hardly," she assured, pleased to find her backpack where she'd left it, and scowling a little at it as she tried to stuff the heavy book back in amongst the other cluttered contents, "it was when I first got Nezumi, actually." Erika gave the courier a curious look before blinking away the sudden thought that came to mind. "I doubt very much that he made those marks," she commented with a gentle chuckle, making Miranda laugh again. "No, no," she assured, waving her hand dismissively, "Those were made by the rather large, hungry feline that tried to eat him when he was still only a few weeks old." "You got in the way, didn't you?" inferred Erika in a worried tone, her expression becoming pensive as the girl shrugged. "Well, kinda," she admitted, a small smile crossing Miranda's lips as she glanced up at Erika from behind her long bangs, "It was pretty foolish I know, but if I didn't get hurt too badly, and my Father showed up in time to save us." Erika smiled mysteriously and gave a small nod. "With help from Treeant, I suspect?" she inquired, causing Miranda's smile to widen. "I could always rely on him," the courier assured with a small sigh, her gaze becoming distant as Erika touched her arm gently, "I guess that's what I was looking for with Derrick. I didn't find it, though..." Miranda barely noticed as Erika sat her down upon the wooden bench once more and put an arm about her shoulders. "I guess I was just looking for a way to forget my Father," the courier went on without prompting, leaning into her hostess as she spoke, "I should have known better, I guess." "We all make mistakes, Miri," said Erika softly, her fingers running idly through Miranda's for once tangle free hair, "You felt you needed someone what with everything that was happening, and you made one poor choice. It happens now and then, but at least you were happy for a little while, right?" The courier closed her eyes to block the warm pressure she felt behind them and nodded slowly as she slid an arm around the woman and inhaled the soft scent of flowers off of her. "I guess I'm not as much like my Mother as I'd like to be," Miranda muttered, finding herself nuzzling against the silky soft fabric of Erika's kimono and feeling strangely contented, "she can handle anything or anyone. She's always been a pillar of strength to me. I guess that's why I... I..." "Was upset with her for remarrying?" finished Erika quietly, holding the girl closer, her contemplative gaze following path of her fingers through Miranda's long, ebon hair, "She disappointed you. Not because you felt she was betraying your Father's memory, but because she wasn't as strong as you thought she was." Miranda simply nodded, grimacing as she hid her face in Erika's kimono, barely registering the guilty feeling that rose up in the pit of her stomach for staining the garment, and forgetting to be fascinated by the woman's intuition. Instead, the courier shuddered a little as she let herself cry, somehow forgetting that she was sitting with a near stranger, in a semi-public place as Erika's fingertips soothingly caressed her scalp before running down the length of her hair. "You will love again, Miri," came Erika's whispered tone, the woman's fingers drawing back Miranda's bangs from her forehead before kissing her softly, "And your Father's killers will be brought to justice. I promise you this." Miranda gave a small chuckle inspite of herself and turned her head to look up at the kind woman with a small smile. "You can't know that," she replied, her eyes closing slowly as Erika's soft fingers brushed the tears from the courier's cheek. "I know because you're too beautiful not to find someone else," Erika explained thoughtfully, smiling as Miranda swung her legs up onto the bench and rested her head in the woman's lap, the girl's stormy gray half-lidded eyes looking up at her with equal portions contentment and sadness, "and I know that you'll find the ones responsible for your Father's death because you're too strong of will not to." "Coming from you I could almost believe that," Miranda sighed, turning her head away and smiling as she watched a distant trio of women carrying off a tree, its root-ball securely burlapped as one of their number kept it moist with a large watering can. "There are certain things that I don't lie about," said Erika, her tone baring the slightest edge of seriousness as her fingers moved Miranda's hair around her earlobe, pushing the long dark locks around until they fell towards the grassy ground, "The people of Celadon have always been concerned with aesthetic. Both outer and inner beauty is something we take quite seriously, and insincere flattery is considered something of an insult to us." Miranda looked back up at Erika, smiling as she saw that the woman's head was silhouetted by the huge glass dome in the roof, and that the sun was finally shining down through it, lighting up Erika's already pretty face and making the Gym Leader seem all the more alluring. "You're beautiful," the courier said wistfully, making Erika blush as she closed her eyes and smiled, bowing her head just a little. "Thank you," the woman replied, her tone barely audible over the distant sounds of the arboretum. "What? It's true," Miranda chuckled, reaching upwards to hold Erika's cheek, only to gasp softly, her pulse quickening at the sensation the feel of the woman's impossibly soft skin sent through her. Erika's quiet giggle was akin to subtle wind-chimes as she covered the courier's hand with her own, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze. "This is a new feeling to you, isn't it?" she whispered, her inquiry meant only for the girl's ears. "Y-yes," Miranda managed, her cheeks feeling hot as she glanced away nervously, uncertainty paralyzing her for a moment. "That's okay," Erika replied wistfully, taking quiet interest in Miranda's reactions, "It's up to you where this goes, deary. I can see that your feelings are conflicted, and I'm not about to let my feelings cloud my judgment." As Miranda's hand slipped away from Erika's cheek, the courier could feel her hostess's body tense a little; she could sense the momentary disappointment in the way Erika's fingers twitched ever so slightly. "I, I'm sorry," the courier stammered, turning to face Erika once again, her stomach tying itself in knots despite the reassuring look Erika gave her, "I just-" "Shhh..." the woman whispered softly, covering Miranda's lips with her index finger and smiling playfully, "There's no need to explain. So long as you remain here, the offer stands. Remember, Miranda, this isn't just an Indigo League Gym. I'm here to teach people things. That included." Miranda squeezed her eyes tightly closed her hands covering her face as the girl blushed so deeply the courier thought she must be glowing. "I... I'll keep that in mind," Miranda replied, her chuckling in her voice muffled by her hands. "I just have one question, though," said Miranda, at last finding the strength to move her hands, and finding Erika smiling down at her with patient amusement, "How would... Samantha feel about such a thing?" Erika nodded sagely, smiling approvingly as her fingers brushed away the courier's stubborn bangs. "We have an interesting relationship, you could say," she explained, a touch of wistful fondness in her voice, "it is true that we are lovers, but our feelings for one another only go so far. It's a bit of a necessity on my part. Mainly because I care for her far too much to hurt her by taking things that final step." "Plus she's your apprentice," the courier inferred, moving herself closer so that her cheek was pressed lightly against Erika's stomach, the silk of the woman's kimono brushing against Miranda's cheek in time with her breathing, "and you're afraid that she might take what she's learned and go." Erika sighed heavily, glancing out over the open field as Samantha lead her class away from the gazebo. "There's always that to think about," she replied, resting her hand upon Miranda's head, her fingers loosely linked through the girl's hair, "I'm afraid that I'm much too young to be in need of a successor any time soon, and that by the time I'm ready to step down as Gym Leader here, Samantha won't be much younger than I am. There's also only so much I can teach her, and there's only so much for her here. I don't want to hold her back, yet I'll be sad when she leaves me and takes her skills elsewhere." "You do love her, then?" inquired Miranda quietly, causing Erika to closer her eyes for a moment before turning to her and giving the courier another of the woman's patented mysteriously enigmatic smiles. "In my own way," Erika replied as the group came nearer and Samantha waved. "Anyway, it's almost lunchtime. We should go and eat. By the time we're done your new outfit should be ready. And afterwards, if you'd like, I'm taking some of the girl's into town for a bit of shopping. Would you like to come along?" Miranda smiled, nodding slowly before sitting up and feeling embarrassed by the knowing smile Samantha gave her. "Okay," the girl replied, brushing her hair back over her shoulders, still feeling unaccustomed to wearing it down, irregardless of its newfound stability, "I'd like that, it should be fun..."
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