[attr="class","freiwanttbot"]
[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-fletchling"]
[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-zebstrika"]
[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-togedemaru"]
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—
A couple married out of convenience, culture and custom, Antonio Demétrio Del Rio Romero wed Rosalia Clementina Álvarez Pais in late autumn, as the leaves were just beginning to change color. The event was a small one, made up of only close friends and family, but it was more than enough for the young married couple. Despite the fact that the events that had brought them together were less than idealistic, the pair seemed more than content to celebrate the joyous occasion and take the next steps in their lives together.
[break][break] The next five years were spent happily. With the help of oversea money, Antonio and Rosalia bought a house in Olddale Town and prepared to settle down. Antonio took a job with the local contractors — a small job, on a short-term basis, but enough to keep the food on the table. Rosalia stayed at the house; she was a home-maker, the kind of wife to decorate their small cottage with photos, flowers, and sewn tablecloth. Her selfmade curtains and knitted pot-holders were well-known among the townfolk for selling at the Sunday market.
[break][break] Eventually, though, their happiness grew stale. Rosalia wanted a baby and for whatever reason, Arceus failed to give her one. Again and again they tried, each attempt ending with the same small blue negative on the stick. Eventually, with encouragement from their peers, they sought help with a fertility specialist.
[break][break]
"I'm sorry. The results came back, and we aren't optimistic..." [break][break] Rosalia sobbed into her husband's shoulder, Antonio placed a solemn hand on her back.
[break][break] Would they be barren forever? [break][break]
—
[break][break]
It was why the birth of their son was cause for such celebration. Leo's birth was no accidental twist of fate.
[break][break] "Leonício,
mi tesoro, you are my heart," his mother would say, choked with affection. "We made you from scratch."
[break][break] To which, of course, Leo would always stick his tongue out and say, "Gross!"
[break][break] He always got a smack on the head for that.
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—
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Leo had always known his father to be a hardworker. They did not have much but what they did have, they worked desperately for.
[break][break] Antonio's dedication was not without reward, however. He became recognized in the town for his handywork, so much so that even the local rangers took note of him. They brought him into their close circle, and it was not long before he had discarded his blue-collar work clothes for a suit and tie, often disappearing into the depths of neighboring urban cities to complete his 9-5 shift.
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—
[break][break]
"You are working too much — you are hardly home —" [break][break] His mother's voice, hushed yet harsh, spoken in a foreign tongue broke through. Leo was barely two. He sat in a patch of grass at the foster's farm, tiny hands surrounded on the muzzle of a baby Blitzle who was nosing it's way into his lap.
[break][break]
"What do you want from me, mi esposa? Do you want the money to stop? Is that what you want?" [break][break] The toddler burrowed his face into the Blitzle's fur, sparks crackling through his hair. He pressed his mouth against it's nose. It was wet.
[break][break]
"¡Como quieras! Fine. Leonício, come here!" Before he knew it, he was being sharply tugged upwards. He stumbled, untied sneakers stumbling against the grass, as he was dragged back towards their car. He glanced at his father, who was running a hand through his hair in aggravation.
[break][break] His father didn't even look at him.
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—
[break][break]
His father went on business trips — that much he knew.
[break][break] These seemed longer.
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—
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"oh Dios mío!" she gasped, tearful. "Are these flowers? For me?"
[break][break] Leo blinked, looking up. His father had in his hands a beautiful bouquet of flowers, his mother's face flushed with pleasure. With a squeal, she jumped up to hug him, arms wrapping around him in an intimate way that made Leo turn in his chair back to his homework.
[break][break]
—
The business trips stopped. His father took a job more local, in the nearby lab. Sometimes a lady would come visit the house, sharing tea with his parents, when he returned home from soccer practice with his friends.
[break][break] Leo didn't really ask. He didn't think to.
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—
[break][break]
The boy's childhood was of the perfectly idyllic sort. His friends envied the loving relationship that his parents shared with each other, from grade school up until high school. His parents had no qualms about showing their affection in public, either, much to the chagrin of Leo himself.
[break][break] Despite how he might have denied it in his teenage years, though, Leo was happy to have them as his parents. He had seen his friends' parents go through argument after argument, tearing each other apart without any regard for the son they were ruining along the way. His father and mother loved him dearly — maybe a little too much, maybe a little suffocatingly — but he was willing to bear it.
[break][break] He brought home an A, his father ruffled his hair, and his mom gave him a kiss on the cheek. He forgot his backpack at school, his father frowned with disappointment, and his mother said she would start a cup of tea for him to drink.
[break][break] Much of Leo's life passed uneventfully, even through college when he moved to Slateport University. As their only son, he was loving and dutiful, keeping touch every day and calling at least once a week. He was obedient too — at least for the most part.
[break][break]
—
[break][break]
"
Leonício Antonio Álvarez Del Río! Did I hear what I think I heard? Did your friend call you
Leo?"
[break][break] Oof. She was mad. Even through the phone, she sounded mad.
[break][break] "How many times do I have to lecture you about pride and culture? How many times, before I beat it into that thick skull of yours — wait until your father hears about this —"
[break][break] "Oh, oops! Sorry! I think the call is breaking up — is that a teacher calling me? Yep, I think it is. Bye Mom!"
[break][break] Hand to his chest, Leo breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the call ended. He looked up at the Zebstrika, who had been watching the entire conversation with narrowed eyes. The boy grinned, sheepish. "She'll forgive me. She always does."
[break][break] Besides, what was his mom thinking? Of course he was going to go by Leo. Who in the world was going to call him
Leonício?