Cynthia X Male Reader: Workaholic

Practice Makes Perfect

You were a tad annoyed, to say the least. As to why Sycamore decided this would be a good use of your Saturday is beyond belief. Still, he thought it was best to practice certain things. And well, this was the furthest thing you had in mind. You were inside your bedroom, looking bored beyond your belief. Across from you was Empoleon looking at you with a smile on his face as you were wearing a buttoned-up dress shirt. At your closet was Sycamore, scanning through some of the clothes you had in your home.

Sycamore: Do you have anything? Most of this stuff you haven't worn since the academy.

(Y/N): That's because I have little to worry about aside from looking presentable at work.

Sycamore: Man, you really are a workaholic.

You glared at your friend, looking more annoyed now than you were with Cynthia and the library. Still, Sycamore smiled as he pulled out a nice pair of dress pants.

Sycamore: In the name of...you haven't worn these since graduation.

You sighed as you walked over to the bed and sat down. You rested your head on your hand as you looked up at him as he handed you the pants.

(Y/N): Why are we even doing this anyway? This is ludicrous and absolutely terribly ridiculous.

Sycamore: Because you need the social practice.

(Y/N): Not you too. Listen, it was tabloid crap. I'm amazed that YOU of all people actually believe that utterly ridiculous bull crap.

Sycamore: I don't believe it at all. What I do believe is that you looked like a pig. You need to start reinventing yourself. And you need to do so quickly. While I don't believe the tabloids, a lot more do. And they attention will be drawn to you. If you don't look the part, it will reflect badly on you, Carolina, and Cynthia alike.

(Y/N): You don't know that.

Sycamore: For someone who considers themselves a highly intelligent being, you really have no idea how the human brain functions. Especially in a collective. And especially given how celebrity obsessed Sinnoh media can be at points. Although, not as bad as Unova.

You sighed and face-palmed. Although, he did make a good argument altogether. You had no idea how people would react. Furthermore, any chance goes a negative stain on Carolina's career spelled doom for you too. And there went your bills and you would become a laughing stock and-

Unknown to you, you were taking in a deep breath after deep breath. Sycamore was able to catch on quickly and walked up to you and placed a hand on your back. You looked over to him and he gave you a smile and stood up. With a confirming nod by your fellow professor, you stood up and grabbed the pair of pants, and looked them over. You then peered over to your friend who gave you a wink. You sighed and went into the bathroom to change.

From there, it quickly became a day of practicing the ways of a social life. From how to properly eat at a higher-end restaurant, to "walking with confidence" whatever the hell that one meant, to other things. While you still had little to no desire to master any of this crap, here you were doing just that. With a sigh, after a couple of hours of this, you were finally done. Not at all in Sycamore's eyes, but in your own. The final push was the damn dinner crap. Who the bloody cared which fork you used for a god damn salad.

Once that moment was over with, you got changed back into your normal clothes and got ready to do some minor work as Sycamore watched in dismay.

Sycamore: Ok, I admit, maybe we took things a little too far. But don't you want to impress the press and-

(Y/N): No I really don't. My intention is to work and-

Sycamore: Ok, look. You need to stop worrying about work all the time. I know you want to crack the mysteries of the universe. I'm right there with you. But that doesn't mean you need to dedicate every day of your existence to it. We have breaks for a reason. Perhaps you need to take one. Besides, how many vacation days have you built up over the years.

(Y/N): 457 days.

Sycamore looked at you with total shock before he shook his head and took a step back from you. Once you were in your casual clothes, you rolled your eyes and walked past him and absorbed Empoleon in his Pokeball.

Sycamore: Where are you going?

(Y/N): You, and by proxy, a lot more want to take a break. And I shall do just that.

You walked out of your apartment, almost slamming the door in his face. You moved on from there and walked out of your building and began to move through the streets of the city. You just needed time to think things over.

First of all, no way in hell is anyone from the press actually going to religiously follow this. And if they do, they are dumber than a rock. Secondly, you were ever going to go to one of these high society meetings. So why on earth was any of this important to you whatsoever. Regardless, you were just annoyed. You wanted to do work but damnit that damn newspaper, Cynthia, everything. Ever since you met her things were going into a downward spiral.

Sure she was very kind, loving, really did seem to care about your well-being and everything. But still. It just annoys you to no end as your need to work was getting to you. But there was also the social need. You wanted to spend time with Sycamore, spend time with Cynthia and....Cynthia.

Man...why did she go out of her way to do this as well? What was the benefit to her? Getting to see another person happy and put herself up? No. Classic psychology would dictate against that, especially based on other habits she has displayed. Maybe she was using you to get press attention? Yeah, right. Like that was hard for one of the greatest battlers and one of the most attractive women known to man.

You stopped yourself as that last thought hit you and hit you hard. What did you just say? About Cynthia? You shook your head again and continued on walking. It wasn't like....that...you know. It just...ARGH.

You walked into an alleyway and punched the wall. You were frustrated, to say the least. How could this happen to you? You were smarter than the average person, better at biology, chemistry, psychology. How in the bloody hell did this crap have to happen?!

...how come you found something else important than work?

...and why are you just now realizing it?

You slid down against the wall and curled your legs up to yourself. You sighed a little as you heard Empoleon emerge from his Pokeball. He softly placed his arm on your shoulder. You looked up at him and you saw him struggle to give a smile. You laughed a little as you looked up to your partner.

Elsewhere, Cynthia was in her own private arena as Garchomp was in battle with Lucario. The two were fighting left and right as Cynthia watched them both.

Cynthia: Garchomp, use Dragon Rush! Lucario, Dragon Pulse! Full power, both of you!

They both nodded and unleashed a massive power blast. Cynthia watched as the two caused a massive explosion, she didn't even shield her eyes. Once the blast was cleared, Cynthia saw both her pokemon, panting in pain. She glared a bit until she heard the doors open and saw Carolina walking up to her.

Cynthia: Enough. Good work, both of you.

Cynthia sent both back into their pokeballs and turned back to Carolina.

Cynthia: Yes?

Carolina: How are you feeling?

Cynthia: Fine. Why do you ask?

Carolina: You seem much more combative as of late.

Cynthia: I'm fine, grandmother.

Carolina: Is it because of-

Cynthia: Yes. Yes, it is.

Carolina: You'll survive. I'm sure of it. I wouldn't worry about-

Cynthia: I ruined his life.

Carolina: Pardon?

Cynthia: He didn't want any of this? I forced it onto him. I did this! Me?! All I wanted to do was to make sure he was mentally ok. Socially ok. I heard about the stories of (Y/N). I thought I could do some good for him. And now we have this whole fiasco and-and-

Cynthia sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. She walked past Carolina, storming out of the arena.

Carolina: Where are you-

Cynthia: Out.

Carolina reached out a little and watched as Cynthia stormed out of the room. She sighed herself and looked away as the two separated a little.