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Scrolling down, I drag my disinterested gaze as it lazily watches my feed give me whatever I desire. I play with my (h/l) hair, dully staring at the screen, pushing past fanart and memes, bored out of my mind. On the couch, fanning myself from the hot, late-summer temperatures, I sat slouched against the squishy cushions.

School started earlier this month, and -- just like last year -- I was completely ignored by my fellow students.

I certainly wasn't doing anything wrong.

Was I too plain? My hair too bland? Face just far too forgettable?

Only Arceus knows.

After clicking on a video on my phone, I perk up. "Oh, what a cute hairstyle! I wonder If I could do that with my hair... hmm." I slowly finger the ends of my (h/c) locks, deep in thought. "Ah!"

I urgently glanced down at the screen, but it was blank.

"Ugh, it just had to die right now?" I groan, discarding my phone and walking over to the bathroom.

I can recall there being scissors in here... somewhere. After rummaging in the cupboards and colorful plastic baskets filled with various unused toiletry items, I emerged successful. Gleaming silver scissors in hand, I stand up and look right at the shining mirror, lifting up a strand and raising the double blades.

The swift sniping noise cuts through the still air, and a piece of hair falls to the ground.

"I probably should do this over the trash can." I sweatdrop, then hastily drag the small bin that was in the far corner underneath my head, where I daintily brought the scissors to my hair once again. More and more of my hair is gone, and within minutes, my hair is cut just above my chin.

"(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N)!" A shout rings throughout the house.

That wasn't a good sign. Shoving the scissors into the cabinet underneath the sink and kicking the garbage canister to the side, I call back, "Yeah?"

The door slams open, revealing my mom. When she sees me, a hand cups her mouth, stifling a horrified gasp. "You cut your hair?"

"Uh, er, yeah? I... I did," I reluctantly muttered, hanging my head, eyes downcast.

"Hey, dear?" My mom leans out of the room to holler, "Come here, will you?"

Once my dad came in too, I got an earful of scolding, though my parents were mostly just astonished, and let me go without any punishment since I hadn't really done any harm to anything. I didn't really regret doing it. Even though I wish my hair was a bit longer, you know, to maybe get some attention or whatnot...

"(Longer? I'll give you longer -- and fame to boot!)" A high, childish voice chirps, though no one else is in sight.

"Hello?" I whip my head around, wearily scanning the walls of my room.

"(If that is what you want, I shall make it happen, as Jirachi, the one and only fabulous wish maker!)" The shrill voice cries with a gleeful giggle at the end. Jirachi... the Mythical Pokemon from the Hoenn region? Why in the world was it here in Galar?

"Jirachi?"

"(Now, sleep!)"

Those were the last words I remember before falling onto my mattress and passing out for the night.

Sunlight stealthily flitted past my (f/c) curtains and onto my face. When I sit up and glimpse the dawn's bright glow, I'm drowning in my hair. I scramble around until I topple off my bed, tangled in its monstrous length. It cascaded down my back and over my shoulders all of the way down to the floor even when I stood on tiptoes.

"Wah-?!" I exclaim, trying to push the strands out of my face. "Jirachi?"

I'm greeted by a disappointing silence. I suppose that the wish maker decided to leave after its work was done, but now I merely wanted to demand some answers from it.

Well, no use dwelling on that. The real question is how I'm going to brush all this in time to get to school.

"Mom?" I shout out into the hall. "Come, quick!"

She enters the room, apron on and clearly in the middle of making breakfast. "What is it- oh."

"To sum it up, I don't know more than you do," I state with a slight frown, tucking a lock behind my ear.

"Oh dear,"

"What?"

"Honey, you're beautiful! Look at those gorgeous (h/c) locks, you looked absolutely stunning!" Her sweet, motherly voice admires me, but I turn a blind eye to her obliviousness.

"Mom, how am I going to school like this?" I complain, for that was the real problem here.

"What do you mean? Don't tell me you want to cut it short again?"

Once she asks, I stop to think about it -- but not for long before I firmly shake my head to deny it. No, this was a blessing. So many possibilities... I could curl it, straighten it, braid it, pile it in a quaint bun on top of my head! It was quite possibly endless. "I think... I'm going to keep it this way."

"Alright!" She gives me a thumbs up. "Pancakes are almost done, so come in once you're dressed and ready, okay?"

"Okay," I nod as she leaves.

After rushing to brush my hair, slip on my outfit for the day, scarf down a warm, delightful breakfast, and be driven to school, I finally arrived in time. Pushing open the front door, I step into the building's main hall. The atmosphere was buzzing with the hurried and bustling students going to and fro, chatting pleasantly with friends, walking to homeroom, and lounging in the extensive halls.

When I walk further in, the din turns down a few notches more to a scattered murmur as I unlock my locker with its specific combo. Once I'd grabbed my books and shut the metal door, I turned around to see a hushed crowd, all gazes making a beeline to where I stood, caught unaware.

I don't say anything, only stare back, frozen. What was going on?

Before I could ask, however, a male with white, fluffy Wooloo-looking hair strides up to me, a cocky smile on his pale face. I instantly recognize the boy to be one of the extremely popular kids here at the school -- Bede.

"Hello there, how foolish of me not to introduce myself earlier." Bede's vibrant purple eyes bore into mine as he spoke in a honeyed tone. "My name is Bede, though I'm sure you are well aware of that. And you, Beautiful?"

Was the most famous boy in school asking for my name... and flirting with me? What was going on? I glance over my shoulder, wondering if he could be possibly referring to someone else. But I couldn't see over my shoulder because of the mass of hair that flowed like an aura around my figure. Then, it hit me.

My hair. My lavish, ridiculously long, and particularly glamorous hair.

"I haven't seen you around before!"

Another male voice speaks up, and I shift my head to see a tan, purple-haired boy. He was from Postwick, a tiny town out in the country down south. While I had definitely been in school both this year and last, only now they come flocking to me, claiming to have never once laid eyes on me?

My eyes swept my newly achieved audience, where girls and boys alike watched my every move. A small boy in the back with smooth locks of black hair framing his face mask stood way off to the side, the only one not looking my way.

I couldn't make out anything behind the pale snow-white mask that obscured his entire face, besides dark, round holes where his eyes would be, though the shadowy depths behind the mask hid his facial features.

Besides that, everything about his body language screamed timid and afraid.

Suddenly my attention was drawn elsewhere, as Bede kissed the back of my hand and Hop slung an arm over my shoulder, both solemnly promising to eat with me during lunch.

Even after I'd been whisked away from my first class to the next, every student in the room failed to focus on the lesson being taught by Professor Magnolia -- and instead, they almost drooled in awe at my long hair as it trailed at my heels.

Jeez, this is getting old. Fast.

Not only was it harder to work on the assignment, but I couldn't find a moment to breathe without someone interrupting me with a polite but overly ecstatic hello.

When lunchtime rolled around at last, I purposely avoided the cafeteria, instead bringing my home-cooked lunch in a cooled bag to an empty room, used for nothing but storage for science materials and such. Safe at last, I plop down in front of an old, rickety desk and sighed heavily.

I set down my lunch and pull out a Pecha Berry to begin munching on it, but something suddenly moves, causing things to tumble to the ground with a startling crash. From behind a shelving unit appears the short, dark-haired boy from before, mask now askew.

Catching a glimpse of the boy's alarmingly pale face and wide, scared eyes. "Hey!" I begin to stand, about to walk over to him, but the male tosses out a Pokeball containing a growling Gengar.

The large, violet Ghost-Type creature's blaring red eyes glinted with its trademark mischief, and its Cheshire Cat smirk scared the wits out of me.

It approaches speedily, and I take a few rapid steps backward but trip over the desk and flail to the floor. "Ow..." I mumbled, rubbing my backside and attempting to stand without stepping on my hair, which was now sprawled out around where I sat.

"...hey," a soft, husky voice causes my head to snap up to see the boy, mask now securely covering his whole face as he leaned over from safely behind his Pokémon.

The boy steps out and reaches out a small, petite hand for me to take, which I gratefully accept.

"Thanks," I tell him, dusting myself off and grabbing the Pecha Berry to take another bite from the juicy pink fruit.

"...'M Allister,"

"My name's (Y/N), though honestly, it's highly likely you've heard my name circulating throughout the school." I roll my eyes, munching on the berry some more.

But just as our conversation drew to an uncomfortable silence, footsteps clammed down the hall right outside the room we stood in. The entrance to the classroom was thrown open, and before I could fully comprehend what was happening, Allister raced to hide behind me, returning his Gangar in the process.

"Hey, runt-!" Several boys ran in with fierce scowls on their faces, but when their eyes met my puzzled ones, their harsh tone dropped. "Oh, um, (Y/N). Didn't see you there. We're just lookin' for Allister, but we'll be going now..."

And, out of the blue, they left as fast as they came, not letting me utter a single confused stammer.

Allister hesitantly peeks out from behind me and my curtain of hair, whispering, "Um, they're gone? See you... Around."

He begins to walk toward the door, but I rush out and grab his arm, protesting, "Hey, wait!"

He turns to me without a word, but I can't read his expression with his mask.

"What was that about?"

"N-nothing you should worry yourself about..."

"Allister," I say firmly. "You don't have to leave." It was evident that the boy was being pursued by the bad kind of kids, for reasons that probably weren't good.

"You want me... to stay with you? Er... I wanted to say, I... I didn't mean to imply..." He anxiously stutters, caught off-guard.

"C'mon, let's have lunch together. I have enough for both of us if you don't have something to eat." I smile sincerely.

"Oh... Well, I... I want to thank you for doing that, (Y/N)." Allister says quietly.

"Do what? Let you hide in my hair?" I giggle a bit. "It was my pleasure. Now, eat up. Do you like curry?"

"M-my mask..."

"Huh?"

"I don't... I'm... I'm afraid... to show my face to other people without my mask on..."

"Oh," I look away, not sure how to respond to that. Once I begin to dish out two separate servings of curry kept in a metal container made to keep things nice and warm, I glance back at him.

Allister presses his mask close to his chest, lips quivering and eyes nervously scanning my face for any sign of a reaction, hope evident in his expression.

"Here," I lift up a bowl of rice coated in steaming hot curry sauce, a pleased smile stretching across my face. "Lunch is only so long, so you better eat up while you can."

"Oh... okay," he shakily takes the small platter and spoon I offered him and eats without another word.

Following his example, I began to eat, only at a much faster and energetic pace. I noticed Allister glance over at me more than once, and each time I gave him an earnest grin, to which his face lit up with joy.

While this was only the very start of a fantastic relationship, I knew that our status as friends went far past my shiny new looks, though my absurdly long hair definitely got the ball rolling.

To be worthy of seeing Allister's face -- which was always carefully tucked behind his peculiar mask -- was truly an honor, which I could only hope to live up to. In all honesty, meeting Allister today was not only a miracle but a benefit to us both.

I knew, deep down, that Allister would forever have a precious place in my heart.

"Thanks again... (Y/N),"

"Of course, Allister,"

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Author's Note:

This was requested by Mistyfan3 who wanted a semi-modern alternate universe about the Galar kids in school with our little Allister!

I actually played Sword, so I'm a bit more familiar with Bea, but I adore Allister either way (and I just got him in Masters EX)!

Today's question: Do you have a favorite Ghost-type specialist? I adore Acerola and Allister — but there aren't very many to choose from, are there?

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Word count: 2394 words