A WAYWARD GLANCE AT HIS POKEGEAR was all it took to remind him of the date —— or rather, why it ( sunday, june 21st ) was so significant to begin with. ethan was the type of person who spent his days operating behind a series of masks. EACH ONE TAILORED TO FIT his surroundings —— to the situation at hand. the perfect champion. the arrogant prodigy. the carefree troublemaker. yet in that moment, when golden eyes flicked across the pokegear’s digital display, ETHAN’S MASK APPEARED TO CRUMBLE . in that moment, there was only the hollow stare of someone far more weary of the world than the raven’s devil may care attitude seemed to suggest.
father’s day. HE HAD BEEN GONE NEARLY A DECADE and nothing had been the same ever since. there was a time when his dad’s absence ached like an open wound. WHEN HE STILL HAD THE CAPACITY TO FEEL SO STRONGLY ethan struggled not to be overwhelmed by his own grief. ( the battle his mother had failed. ) however, time healed all wounds —— the raven still missed him, of course. from what he could remember, his father had been an excellent parent.
over time, ethan HAD SIMPLY GROWN NUMB . perhaps it was his way of coping. perhaps he had been born wearing a mask. it was difficult to tell. it was difficult to remember A TIME BEFORE his world had become warped by loss. ethan wasn’t sure what that said about him as a person.
... he should call his mom. ( he knew he wouldn’t, but he liked to PRETEND he would. )