A pair of glowing white pupils slowly made their way from edge to edge of their pitch-black owners, scanning each end of a corridor belonging to possibly the largest multistadium in all of Sinnoh: The Lily-of-the-Valley Stadium. These eyes belonged to a peculiar Sandslash of red quills and grey skin, who earlier had taken notice of the hundred-meter stretch's uncharacteristic emptiness. It was at the same time that he wondered why he was sent out of his Pokéball into such a setting. Typically, Sorex - the name given to said creature - was released either in battle, with the rest of the team, or in areas providing intellectual/historical significance or a high density of beings in general. That last bit, admittedly, resulted in the shrew Pokémon spending more time outside than inside the man-made capsule, as he wouldn't be able to tolerate missing out on knowledge of a culture, landmark, or social event. Now, while the Lily-of-the-Valley Sinnoh League Tournament being such an event of significance would be an understatement, the void of this particular location was so potent that it was inevitably permeated by the distant, booming cheers of countless voices, muffled from beyond the corridor walls.
Of course, there was also the nearby vague rustling coming from the Pokemon Center, which was built into the very wall of the place, the reason why Sorex's trainer had initially come. Even now, the shiny Sandslash failed to understand why they had stayed for several minutes after the team had already been healed, and, again, why he was out of his Pokéball if they weren't going anywhere. He delivered a subtle glance toward the figure behind him for the umpteenth time; he was leaning far forward in the chair he was sitting in, head down and covered by a greed hood, hands in black leather gloves grabbing his knees. If it wasn't for the fancy tournament nametag on his chest reading "Deo", Sorex could have easily envisioned the man a stranger, as he diverged so drastically from how he was ten years ago, albeit mostly for the better. He could recognize from Deo's position that he was thinking very hard about something, and the Sandslash was fairly confident about what it was given the circumstances.
Perhaps Sorex was simply there to provide company to the guy in his stress? Nah, that didn't add up. Cyta was far more reassuring in such situations and, as a psychic-type, was the only one who could directly communicate with Deo. As for the Sandslash and the boy, the two were consistently at odds and perhaps didn't know one another as much as they should given their time spend together. This lack of interaction could be partially due to what Sorex might consider a lack of support on his part. It's not that he didn't care about his trainer, but rather the idea of over-committing to the wellbeing of a single individual gave him a strange sense of unease, as if this devotion would blind him from the information of the world. Of course, he was aware of how ludicrous that kind of logic was, but he fancied it as a sort of social experiement. It was not only true that people held friends and loved ones above others but even widely accepted. Would it be possible, Sorex contemplated, for this to not be the case? Could the bias be removed with the relationship intact? - Or could this only be accomplished by...in simple terms...giving zero ****s at all?
Regardless, this mindset had strengthened the already awkward barrier between the "partners", and all that mind-wandering seemed to solve practically nothing. At least a potential answer to Sorex's initial question was came in an unforseen fashion as the voices from outside dwindled before picking up again with more clarity yet more division.
They were coming. Groups of people emerged from around the corner and began heading down the length of the corridor leading to the stadium's exit. Sorex questioned why they were leaving despite the tournament nearing it's climax, but this question was conveniently answered by Deo as his head lifted up from the commotion, the weight of his eyes quite apparent: "Welp, here come the people that couldn't afford seats in in the center arena for the final rounds", he sighed as he grabbed his silver suitcase and began walking towards the mass of bodies, Sorex close behind. The rushed pace of most - likely due to their impatience to return home and watch the semi-final battles on the television - was slowed by many who had recognized the man they would soon be viewing through their screens, and they began opening up a pathway far wider than needed for one person as Deo strode past. Secretly elated at this gesture, he pulled his red goggles over his eyes and concealed more of his face with his hood for an added intimidation effect. Sorex was relieved that his trainer seemed to be handling his newfound popularity well, even spotting a couple of the losing quarter-finalists make way for them.
Upon reaching the center arena, Deo just then remembered that he was granted a V.I.P seat. Being horrible with directions, he wasn't quite sure where he was supposed to go until he recognized a familiar person in the distance, a young woman who had won her quarter-final match as well. As he approached her, however, her seemingly personal interaction with her Serperior had instinctively urged Deo to halt and face elsewhere. Sure, he doubted he'd be able to hear her words even if he was closer, and they were already in a public area. Nevertheless, her body language signified a sort of profound intimacy with her Pokémon that he felt would be a crime to intrude upon. Yet, the real reason he had kept his distance was because of the powerful emotion stirring inside of him, a mysterious yet persistent envy that would only grow if he neared that girl. Sorex, on the other hand, was drawn in by the scene; to him it signified how hard they must have tried to make it so far, and how important a factor trust must have been (Contrary to their own team). He could only anticipate how fascinating it would be just to talk with them...
...But when the Sandslash waddled forward until he was nearly right in front of the pair, he just stood there silent for several seconds, taking note of how large the Serperior was up-close. Squinting his eyes in embarrassment, Deo soon followed before sitting a few chairs away, facing forward and temporarily pretending that he didn't know his own partner.
"Hello...Deo, is it?"
The ginger struck a quick glance in the direction of the woman's voice before staring back in front of him, paying half-attention to the battle at hand. From his quick glimpse she appeared fairly young, although with females it was always difficult for him to determine an exact age without close inspection, and that would just be creepy.
"I consider it a pleasure to meet you face to face. My name is Diana, if you couldn't tell already. However, you many call me Ana if you would like."
Her diction actually upset Deo, believing that such formality often meant that he had delivered a grim first impression. Despite being aware of this, all the man did in response to the woman was deliver a light nod and a poor excuse for a smile.
