Oranges and Ketchup 1

Entry #6

The door to the principal's office swung open under Callan's touch, revealing the opulence that lay beyond.

Marble columns stretched on, gleaming under the wash of crystalline windows.

Mahogany-paneled hallways echoed with the muted chatter of unseen students.

Each classroom he a testament to technological advancement, a pane of interactive holograms. Sleek, digital interfaces.

The mess halls cavernous, their vastness dwarfing the sizes of Pokemon Gyms.

But Callan's gaze was drawn to the office ahead, an imposing chamber that could easily have doubled as a luxury suite. He couldn't help but feel out of place, in his rumpled chinos and floral shirt.

The principal, a stern figure in a crisp suit, eyed him with thinly veiled disdain. Yet, when his daughter saw him, her hazel-red eyes lit up. It was a sight that made every hardship fade away, if only for a moment.

"Mr. Young, thank you for coming," the principal greeted. "Please take a seat."

Callan's lips pursed into a thin line, the taste of the last night's bender still lingering on his tongue. The ache of a migraine fringing on the corners of his skull, creeping upwards. He gave a curt nod, then sank into the plush chair across from the principal.

Just half an hour ago, he had received a frantic message from his ex, Jen, urging him to pick up their daughter, Lio.

The panic in her voice had been enough to cut through his own apathy, propelling him towards the school.

Lio, his five-year-old daughter with black and white bangs, sat beside him.

Her legs twitched in a rhythm all their own, a silent testament to the nervous energy that coursed through her, always an undercurrent.

Callan reached out, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. The twitching ceased momentarily.

He offered the principal a weak smile, "I'm sorry for the delay. May I ask what this is about?"

The principal took his time, adjusting the cuff of his shirt before finally meeting Callan's gaze. His hands clasped together on the desk in front of him. The lotion did nothing to mask the weathering of the age.

"Thank you for coming in today, Mr. Young. We had an... incident involving Lio and another student."

Callan's brows furrowed. And he swallowed the bitter taste that had suddenly filled his mouth, his mind racing with possibilities.

"What kind of incident?"

The principal leaned back in his chair, his steel-grey eyes never leaving Callan's. "It appears there was a physical altercation between Lio and another student. This isn't the first time something like this has happened."

Callan could only nod, a subdued breath, as if an eventuality slips out of him like an exorcised ghost. His throat going dry in the process. He felt Lio's tiny fingers curl around his, her grip surprisingly firm.

"What happened?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper.

The principal sighed, his fingers drumming a steady rhythm on the desk. "We're still piecing together the details, but it seems that Lio initiated the altercation."

"I see."

What followed was a blur of political backwash, the coax of comfort to soften the oncoming blow. It was mired in sycophantic platitudes, soft praises, courteous gestures. But in the end, the blow came.

The principal suggested moving Lio to a different classroom, even hinted at the possibility of transferring her to a different school. Callan listened, his mind reeling from the onslaught of information.

He thanked the principal, standing to shake the man's hand. The principal's grip was fleeting, his hand slipping from Callan's grasp all too quickly.

"Thank you for understanding, Mr. Young," he said, standing to open the door. "I've arranged for Lio's work to be sent home with her today. We hope this incident can be resolved as smoothly as possible."

The principal's words hung heavy in the air, like a thick fog obscuring Callan's thoughts. His fingers closed around the stack of papers thrust into his hand. Homework, no doubt, a reminder of the educational day Lio was missing due to her sudden suspension.

His other hand found Lio's, his fingers interlocking with hers. She looked up at him, her hazel-red eyes wide and uncertain. He squeezed her hand reassuringly, forcing a small smile onto his face.

The principal's voice echoed in the back of his mind, snippets of their conversation replaying like a broken record, the insinuation clear as crystal.

Their departure was met with the same frigid politeness that had welcomed him. The principal held the door open, his stern gaze watching as Callan led Lio away from the office, their footsteps echoing in the deserted hallway.

As they walked through the grandeur of the school, the marble and mahogany now seemed gaudy, the classrooms too sterile, the mess halls too impersonal.

The facade of the elite institution crumbled under his eyes, the illusion of perfect education shattered.

Once they were outside, Callan crouched down to Lio's level.

His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing away an errant lock of her hair. The world was a tumultuous sea around them, but in this moment, he found solace in her innocence.

He didn't need to ask her what had happened. The answers lay in the hollow echo of the principal's voice, in the tension that had been strung tight in the air of the office. Instead, he pressed his forehead to hers, a silent promise hanging between them.

With Laurence Anderson

Challenger: Callan Young[break]
Traditional or Non-Traditional: Traditional[break]
Format: 2v2 doubles [break]
Pokémon: