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The first memory that Arven can recall of his mother is her voice on the phone.
For his fifth birthday, he remembers sitting in the Naranja Academy's directors office, a man with greying hair sat in a chair across him, ear firmly rooted against his phone.
"Sada, you can at least come home for his birthday."
He remembers desperately trying to tune the man, (who's name escaped him in that moment,) out, trying to strain and hear his mama's voice. She'd only left a few days ago for the hole in the center of Paldea, but she'd normally have returned by now- at least he thinks so.
The man in the chair continues speaking to the phone, but Arven can't make out a single word his mom is saying. It's jumbled garbage, and what words he can make out don't make sense to his five-year old brain.
" Kkzt- Leo, he… -kksssht- very important dynamic… –kzt– almost done with the Terrestrial project–"
"I don't care about the project anymore, Arven doesn't care about the project! Your–" He cuts himself off to glance at the boy, before lowering his voice, " Your son needs you, Sada. Don't leave him with just a Maschiff. "
Arven swings his legs against the chair, looking at the pokeball in his hand. He's bored beyond belief, upset that his mama won't speak to him, and he's hungry to boot.
He clicks the capsule open and lets out his new friend, a puppy he'd gotten right before his mom had left. The dog yaps and begins to tug on the sleeve of his pants. With a lot of strain, he pulls Maschiff onto the chair and hugs him.
The man across from him is still speaking in hushed tones.
" Do you think I know where Turo is? I wasn't close to him. No, Sada, I'm not leaving him at that dusty lab by himself– "
It's as if he thinks Arven doesn't understand what he's saying just because he's covering his mouth. 'I'm five, not dumb,' He thinks. But it doesn't particularly matter. He understands, or at least he thinks so.
"It's s'okay," he speaks up, bringing the old man to a halt. "Mama's work is important."
The other stares at him for what feels like an eternity, before standing up and leaving the room, still on the phone with his mother.
Whenever Arven reflects on this memory, the events after he leaves the room are hazy. He thinks he held onto Maschiff for what must've been a few more hours. He thinks he may have heard shouting from the hallway outside. The memory is more than ten years old, now, and it gets fuzzier each time he thinks of what may have happened that day.
The next memory his brain jumps to chronologically is later that day. It is late in the evening. The sun is setting through the office windows, and Arven has spent his entire fifth birthday inside this office, he and Maschiff barely awake on the chair they'd been confined to.
He wakes up just a little when the door re-opens, and in strides the man from before, looking significantly more haggard, no longer on the phone. He approaches Arven and kneels by his chair.
"Arven?"
"Yea?" He blurbles out, tiny hands gripping into his Pokemon's fur. His stomach growls.
"I'm sorry your birthday has turned out to be… such a chore. Is there anything you'd like to do?"
Arven remembers thinking about asking for his mom, but, given the fact that she wasn't already in the room with him, he figures it's a lost cause. It's when Maschiff whines and his own stomach growls that an idea comes to him.
"I just wanna have dinner," he responds. The man's face immediately softens, and he stands up.
"Of course, Arven. Where would you like to go?"
"I dunno. I just want a sandwich for Maschiff and me."
"I can arrange that," the man answers, offering his hand. Maschiff doesn't growl, so Arven grabs on and slowly leaves the comfort of the chair, his partner not far behind him.
The hallways of the Academy twist and turn in ways that Arven doesn't properly understand. They go down a staircase, up a staircase. Through a door, then down another staircase. A left, a right, a left-
"Mister, what did you say your name was?" He asks, trying to focus on something else. Maschiff toddles behind him, seemingly less lost than he was.
"My name is Clavell," the other responds, making sure to keep him close.
Through another door, down another staircase. Right, right, left-
"Mr. Clavell, does my mama hate me?"
The question brings him to a halt just as they open the door to the brisk winter air. Clavell turns to Arven and kneels down to him, adjusting his coat and frowning.
"Arven… I- No, she doesn't. Your mama loves you very much."
Maschiff whines and nudges Arven with his snout as Clavell speaks.
"Then why isn't she here?"
Clavell doesn't respond, he simply scoops Arven up into his arms and continues walking, making sure to walk slow enough for Maschiff to keep up.
The cold makes Arven sleepy again, and while he's not being held by his mother, the gentle sway of footsteps rocking his body have him dozing off. He tries to keep his eyes open, watching Maschiff trot behind Mr. Clavell, but…
He wakes up in another chair in a small house, his pokemon snuggled under his arms.
It's a quaint place, and Arven can hear the sound of something frying from behind him. He peeks over the edge of the chair to see Clavell standing near a stove, cooking a hamburger patty. An already finished sandwich lays on a plate on the nearby counter. The older man spots Arven peeking and gives a gentle smile.
"Good evening, Arven. Your sandwich is ready. I'm just about to finish the one for Maschiff."
The smell makes his stomach rumble with impatience.
It's a far cry from the smells of the microwave meals he'd learned to make himself at the lab. It's food- home cooked. Without words, he climbs down from the chair and makes his way to the kitchen, half expecting to wake up any moment now.
He's barely under the height of the counter, but he stands on his toes to reach out and grab the sandwich, now expecting to wake up on the lab couch, his mama typing on the pc behind him-
But he grabs the sandwich and pulls it down. And he does not wake up.
The bread is soft and the hamburger patty still radiates a little warmth. Avocados and cheese spill out from the top bun, and the fragrance of onions is present.
Arven sits down on the floor, holding the sandwich. Hot tears well up in his eyes as Maschiff lays down by his legs and looks up at him with concern. Clavell turns around just as fast.
"Arven! Did something happen? What's wrong?"
Through tears, Arven simply takes a bite of his sandwich and cries harder. Clavell is rubbing his back now, shushing and trying to soothe him.
"It- It's okay," he says, clearly panicked, enough so that even Arven knows, but he can't stop crying.
"It's good," Arven sniffles, "I- I like it Mr. Clavell, it tastes nice."
That at least seems to bring some peace to the older man, as he hugs Arven tight if only for just a moment.
"I'm glad Arven, I'm very glad. Is this an okay birthday present?"
Halfway through the sandwich and already feeling his stomach ache from the food, Arven nods and offers the rest to Maschiff, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He scarfs down the remaining half and immediately pops up and begins to run around the kitchen in circles, yapping happily. Clavell doesn't even look upset that they'd shared half instead of having two whole ones.
"Yeah.. Thank you Mr. Clavell."
Stomach full, Arven yawns, still sitting on the kitchen floor. Maschiff had seemingly taken all his energy. It's like his friend knew Leech Seed, a thought which Arven giggles at inbetween yawns. Clavell, still with a hand on Arven's back, decides to pick him up again.
"Arven, you can stay here for the night if you want. I know your mother's lab isn't the most comfortable, and I'm afraid I don't remember where you and her actually live."
Arven grips his hand onto Clavell's jacket and presses his face against his shoulder, already feeling too tired for words.
"Mama," he yawns, "Mama sold the house to fund the lab things. Can you read me Goodnight Moon?"
He feels Clavell still only slightly before setting a hand on his head, patting him.
"Of course I can, Arven. Can you recall Maschiff into his pokeball? I'll put you to bed in the guest bedroom and you can have a nice rest to end off your fifth birthday." His voice is gentle, but Arven has to wonder if Mr. Clavell was mad at his mom.
Sleepily, Arven gives a grin to Maschiff, who's still on the floor, wagging his tail, and holds out his pokeball, the blue beam bringing his friend back to him. Clavell carries Arven upstairs and to a room at the end of a hallway.
It's a plain bedroom, but it's more than Arven can even remember. Clavell sets Arven into the single bed pressed close to a window that has moonlight shining down to it, and lets him adjust to get comfortable. He puts Maschiff's pokeball on the little nightstand next to the bed and pulls the covers over himself. The blankets are tucked tightly into the bed with care, and he finds it a comfort, even with plain clothes and not pajamas.
"Your house is really nice, Mr. Clavell."
"Thank you, Arven. You said you wanted me to read Goodnight Moon?"
Arven nods and tucks himself a little further under the covers. Clavell gives him another friendly smile and excuses himself, coming back only a short while later with a worn down book.
"We're in luck, one of the teachers at Naranja let me borrow this! Let me take a seat."
By the moonlight, Mr. Clavell begins to read.
"In the great green room,
there was a telephone,
And a red balloon,
And a picture of–"
Arven springs out of bed, pulling the covers with him.
"The cow jumping over the moon!"
Clavell simply smiles and pats Arven's head once more. He settles down and tries to listen to him read the story. It had just been so long.
"And there were three little bears, sitting on chairs,
and two little kittens and a pair of mittens,
and a little toy house and a young mouse,
and a comb and a brush and bowl full of mush."
Arven feels his eyes struggle under the weight of the words, like a security blanket being cast over him.
"And a quiet old lady who was whispering 'hush!'"
Distantly, he feels his mama wishing she could be there to read this for him. Maybe that's just him, wanting for her presence. He knows her work is important, and she wants him to see it one day, but…
"Goodnight room.
Goodnight moon.
Goodnight cow jumping over the moon."
Clavell's voice is soothing. Arven reaches out, eyes closed, and holds his hand out. Mr. Clavell does not pause reading aloud, but still takes his hand, giving it a calm squeeze.
"Good night light, and the red balloon.
Good night bears. Goodnight chairs.
Good night kittens, goodnight mittens.
Good night clocks, and goodnight socks."
Arven thinks again of his mom. He tries to think of her reading this story to him, in the place that was his bedroom before she'd sold the house.
"Good night little house, and goodnight mouse.
Good night comb and goodnight brush."
But he can't remember it properly. Maybe he was tired. But he knows she would read it to him if he was here.
"Goodnight nobody. Good night mush,
and goodnight to the old lady whispering "hush"
Goodnight stars, goodnight air-"
The first memory Arven has of his father is of him reading Goodnight Moon to him on the night of his fifth birthday.
"Goodnight noises everywhere."