DISCLAIMER: I don't own Pokemon or the title of this fanfic, jeez.
All credits for this idea go to Pikanchi and her wonder fanfic Fateful Buds, which fills my fangirly head with so many wonderful images. Based on the thirty-second prompt, "pretty."
If this was the definition of elegance, like the brochure said, then I must have been taught wrong.
Or, perhaps it wasn't the brochure that was wrong. I had never had the patience for these sorts of things.
Not for the first time that night, I wished that he had come down with the flu, or the measles, or any sort of sickness. Lying on my own deathbed had to be more exciting than this.
I leaned against a wall, as far away from the festivities as I could possibly get. My skin prickled, both from this ridiculous and clammy tux I was forced by my mother to wear and from the impatience building up inside of me. I'd rather be anywhere, anywhere, beside this ballroom.
My first impression of the place was blinding; it seemed like every single thing in the room had to have the color white. And not just any white, the kind of white you could probably see in the dark without using some sort of black light.
Not only was the place extremely white, it was also very vast. Rows of great alabaster pillars towered around me, edging the marble ballroom floor. My eyes wandered from the pillars to the large glassy chandeliers dangling from the ceiling by gold chains, hanging over the crowd of dancers swaying to the lulling music. I began to wonder...if I started swinging from one, would I be forced to leave? It was a tantalizing thought, but I pushed it to the back of my mind.
Continuing my scrutiny of the ballroom, I noticed the golden angels, surrounded by gilded roses, ogling me from the arched ceiling. I felt myself shudder; they made me feel more uncomfortable than I already did. Why did everything have to have creepy angels in this place? Angel statues were tucked away periodically in alcoves in the walls and icy cherubs sat on each of the tables, all of them staring at me. Although…the ice sculptures were more of a taunt than anything; I struggled to keep my tongue in my mouth and off of their icy frames.
Jeez, I had to be desperate for something to do. I was never this poetic about anything.
I wove my way through the crowd of painted women and stiff men to the food tables, desperate for some punch. If there was any perk to this party, it had to be the food. Tables covered in ghostly shrouds were heavily laden in delicacies that I had never seen before, let alone be able to pronounce.
I made my way back to his wall with my spoils, a mere cup of punch. I had lost my appetite; everything in the room was both irritating and intimidating. Why was everything so fancy? Who were these all these hoity-toity people? They couldn't all know Hikari.
Hikari…Hikari was the only reason I was forcing myself to stay in this ballroom. This party was for her, celebrating her great victories around the country. Most of the people her were only waiting for a glimpse of the famed Hikari, the girl who single handily took down the legendary Pokémon Giratina, thwarted the plan of an evil corporation, and beat the Sinnoh Elite Four to take the new place of Champion.
I snorted. Right. Most of them would probably be disappointed that the girl who did all these great things was just a kid from Twinleaf Town. I sipped my punch bitterly, wishing for all these people to go away.
At least I could take solace in the thought that I wasn't the only one uncomfortable at this party; I had been friends with Hikari for long enough that I could say with confidence that the girl probably felt as out of place as myself. I could remember her fervent protests to news crews, trainers, and general admirers about her being special or deserving a reward for what she did. She finally caved in, which lead me to this stupid ballroom. That girl was too nice sometimes.
Speaking of Hikari…where in the world was she? I looked at my watch, my impatience growing. I didn't want to leave before I saw her, because I knew that I would pay dearly for it later, but I couldn't stand another second this synthetic place.
I knew that voice about as well as my own. I turned around, ready to give her a scolding for making me wait so long. "Hikari! Where have you—"
I absently registered the fact that drink I had been holding fell to the ground, red punch seeping into my shoes.
A dress. Hikari was in a dress. My best friend. In a dress. Standing in front of me. In a dress.
It was a simple dress, light blue in color, slim, reaching down to the floor, two straps looped around her neck. But…it was dress. A dress. I had seen her in skirts before, but never a dress. Not even when we were little.
I knew my mouth had to be as wide as my eyes, but my mind honestly couldn't taken in the scene before me.
"…Jun? You okay?"
For the first time...
…I think I finally realized...
…that Hikari was...
A/N: This is kinda an appology for not posting anything recently. I WILL GET THOSE OTHER FANFICTION DONE SOON, I PROMISE! But, I actually wrote this fanfic for my Creative Writing class about a month ago (I've just been too lazy to fix it up). XD We had to describe a setting, so I was like, "JUNHIKA, OMG!" And this fanfiction was born. Thanks so much again to Pikanchi, who supplied the idea for this.