Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"And the winner of the match is Victor!"

The roar of the crowd fills Wyndon stadium, but Victor hardly notices. No, instead, his gaze is fixed on his opponent, standing only a few meters away from him. Yet those mere meters feels like an entire kilometer. His best friend tightens his fist into a ball and slightly punches the air. The determined look on his face from just a few moments earlier instantly transforms into a frenzy of frustration, anger, and dejection. The mere sight is enough to cause Victor's heart to drop to his stomach. The first wave of guilt doesn’t hesitate to crash down on him, leaving him feeling sick to his core like he'd just been hit full force by Swampert's Muddy Water. Arceus, does he feel guilty. In that very moment he no longer cared about becoming Galar's new Champion. How could he blissfully go on to snab the throne after crushing the very dreams of the only boy who ever bothered to be his friend when no else did when he first moved to Postwick from Sinnoh? The boy whose eyes lit up everytime he talked about his goal to become the new Champion. The boy who was the very reason why Victor took up the Gym Challenge in the beginning.

In reality they only stand there for a few seconds, but to Victor it feels like a lifetime. There’s a lump in his throat, and his body, mind, and soul are racked with pangs of remorse. For what, though? The last thing that any ordinary person would think is that he did something wrong. In fact, they’d congratulate him. But Victor thinks otherwise. He didn’t even want to win this stupid Champion Cup, at least not as badly as Hop did. That’s right; he was just here for Hop. The more the severity of the outcome dawns on him, the more he realizes the terrible mistake he just made.

He tries to say something comforting, to make a reassuring gesture, to do something , but nothing happens—he’s frozen, physically and mentally. His best friend closes his eyes for a brief moment, takes a deep breath, and exhales. He forces a smile that Victor immediately judges as counterfeit, and congratulates the semi-final winner.

“Congrats, Vic. Wow, you’re really strong! Thanks for an awesome final battle.” But Hop’s voice doesn’t sound like himself. There’s no cheer, none of his usual energy. It’s a soft, trembling voice that threatens to betray its owner’s inner turmoil.

Victor might as well have punched his friend square in the jaw, and he would feel less guilt than what he felt now.

He felt so stupid. Oh, why didn’t he just forfeit the match the moment he saw Hop step into the arena, a nervous wreck, full of self doubt, yet still holding on to the last bit of hope that he could somehow make it to the end? Victor could’ve chosen to let Hop win, and he’d’ve at least gotten a chance to face the Champion Leon. And even if he lost, at least Victor could be there to comfort him, to tell him how proud he was to have made it that far, instead of gawking like a fool at him after stripping him of his pride and dignity. At least he wouldn’t be the cause of Hop’s most crushing defeat.

“Hop,” Victor began, but the other boy already had his back turned, ready to escape the mocking sound of the crowd cheering Victor’s name at max volume like Dynamax Pokémon—the salt in the gaping wound.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be cheering for you in the final match! Good luck!”

And with that, Hop quickly dashes from the stadium, the sound of each step reverberating in Victor’s ears, an indicator that his best friend is slowly slipping away from him.

Victor is left standing there, surrounded by tens of thousands of people, yet he had never felt more alone in his life. Seeing the pain in Hop’s eyes as his final Pokémon, Cinderace, fainted on the battlefield made everything so clear. Reflecting back on all those times he obliterated Hop battle after battle, watching him suffer the humiliation of each and every defeat, sinking into an abyss of insecurity and despair, Victor has a horrifying realization.

He’s killing the boy he loves.

Hop probably hated him. And Victor didn't blame him.

Chapter Text

Luckily the tears only start to fall as Hop swings the doors open to enter a completely vacant locker room. Of course—all the other challengers had already left at this point. There was only Hop left, and… Victor. Probably celebrating his win and getting ready to dethrone Leon. 

The sobs come in quickly, wasting no time in bringing Hop to his knees as the poor boy holds onto the edge of a wooden bench to keep himself from collapsing onto the ground. But fearing that Victor would come into the room and find him in such a sorry state, he quickly wipes his tears away with his palms and hastily changes back into his regular outfit—his favourite denim wool jacket and black track pants. As his hand reaches for the doorknob, the locker room doors leading to the arena flies open, and Hop doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is.

“Hop! Wait a sec’!” Victor’s familiar voice calls out to him. But the purple-haired boy is already halfway out the door when Victor steps into the room. Ignoring the bewildered League staff standing idly in the lobby, Hop sprints out into the open as tears threaten to spill out of his eyes once again.

How did he get here? How did he reach such a low point? Regret instantly consumes his entire being but he still doesn’t stop running down Wyndon’s stone brick paths, towards something, somewhere. How pathetic, Hop thinks to himself. He can’t even bother to look his best friend in the eye. And now he’s running away from him.

Now crouched in some obscure alley as the sound of shoes on concrete and distant chatter permeates from the bustling Galarian city, Hop wants nothing more but to fade away into the shadows like a Gengar.

He recalls that very sunny afternoon in Stow-on-Side, when he challenged Victor to a battle to prove to himself he wasn’t the weakling Bede accused him of being. The gut wrenching feeling he felt watching his last Pokémon fall to ground was rearing its ugly head again, the loss merely confirming Bede’s words. His hands form fists as uncontrollable anger courses through his being. Who was he so angry at? Himself? Maybe. If he weren’t so weak, maybe others would see him as more than just the Champion’s weak little brother, and acknowledge him for his own achievements for once. Is he angry at Victor?

Impossible.

Hop immediately relaxes his hands as his pent up frustrations are quickly washed away by a stream of shame. The very thought of hating, disliking, even envying his best friend makes him sick to his stomach. But the thought had been thought, and to be quite honest it was a thought that Hop had kept buried deep down in the depths of his mind for a while now. There was no use in trying to hide the fact that, yes, maybe, sometimes, on rare occasions, he would find himself fantasizing about how great it would be to not lose every damn battle he poured his heart and soul into—a fantasy that maybe, only has a sliver of a chance of being real if Victor… wasn’t around.

But he wouldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn’t . Is he truly crazy to believe that? He knows Victor is so much better than him, so much stronger than him. And it didn’t even seem like he had to try that hard. Not as hard as Hop, anyway. Hop, who wants more than anything to prove his worth in this cruel world that never once gave him the time of day. Is he wrong to feel hurt, angry, jealous?

That’s why he was always running off on his own. Always aiming to be a step ahead of his rival, yet always falling behind a few steps no matter what. If Hop was the speedy hare who could never sit still for a second, and Victor was the slow tortoise who always took pleasure in the present moment, then it must really be true that slow and steady wins the race.

If Hop’s mind was a canvas, then it was never blank; at any given moment in time it would be covered in a stunning arrangement of watercolour fuschia, indigo, and sometimes even lime. The perfect mix of hues that blended in harmony to construct his unique, upbeat and dynamic persona. But right now, it’s as if someone vandalized those beautiful colours by violently splattering onto it a harsh navy green, brown, and crimson. And dark blue.

All these terrible emotions and feelings have been bottled up for too long, that Hop just doesn’t know what to do anymore.

He hates himself for feeling this way towards Victor. He’s supposed to be his best friend, damnit! No, Victor has been nothing short of kind and supportive to him this entire journey. Imagining Victor’s kind smile instantly puts a blush on the boy’s tanned face. He thinks back to their very first night camping out in the Wild Area, gazing silently at the celestial bodies in the starry sky hundreds of thousands of kilometers away from them. They lazed around on the midnight summer grass, neither speaking, both enjoying each other’s company. Sobble and Scorbunny chased each other happily around the tent as Skwovet scurried about in the trees overhead. Hop still remembers vividly the way the moonlight shone on Victor’s face, accentuating the boy’s chocolate eyes that glistened like pools of honey in the dark. Hop isn’t entirely sure, but that must’ve been the first time he felt something really special for Victor—something even more than what just a best friend would, should, normally feel.

So how dare he feel anything less than that towards Victor now?

His Rotom phone buzzes in his pocket, breaking his trance. Hop’s eyes fixate on his lock screen.

Call from Leon

 He doesn’t blink as he answers, entering a call with his older brother.

“Hop! Where are you?” Leon’s worried voice booms from the phone’s speakers. “I’m with Victor. We were just going to ask you to come to dinner!”

Hop rubs his eyes, which are red and droopy from the tears. “O-oh, sorry about that, heh!” Hop managed to choke out, trying his best to sound lively. “I’m just feeling a little sick is all, so I’m heading to the hotel early. You go on without me.”

Hop can’t tell if his older brother senses that something is off, but if he does, he doesn’t say anything about it. “Hm. Well, alright, feel better soon.”

There’s a short rustling sound before another boy’s voice is heard on the other line. “Hop!” Victor’s worried voice fills Hop’s ears, whose heart sinks even further. A flurry of emotions barrages his mind in an instant, as if he’d just took a critical hit from a Tri Attack. Hearing Victor’s voice causes his heart to flutter, but that euphoria is quickly overtaken by a feeling of dread and panic. He tries to take a deep breath as quietly as possible.

“Where’d you run off to, mate? I just missed you in the locker room.” The voice is full of genuine worry. Another punch to the gut.

“I just needed some air. I’ll talk to you later,” Hop reassures his friend, but Hop knows there’s no way that his best friend would be that thick. He immediately hangs up before the other can respond, and his eyes widen when he realizes what he’s just done. Great, now Victor probably thinks I hate him.

But was it really that far off from the truth? Hop hopes not. If you asked him to describe his feelings towards Victor right now, you would get a mixed answer. Hop does care about Victor, wants to spend time with him, and admires how great and cool and cute he is. But everytime he looks him in the eye, he can’t help but to feel like the dirt under his shoes, never able to live up to a fraction of what he is. And if he can’t even do that, what makes him think he has a chance against Leon?

Right, Leon. The undefeated Champion. Not that his big brother doesn’t deserve all the fame and attention, but Hop can’t stop imagining what it would be like if, for once, he had the spotlight. They say that everyone will have 15 minutes of fame once in their life, but Hop doesn’t think that his time will ever come. Even if it were only 15 minutes, it would still be enough to silence that horrible feeling brewing inside him telling he’s pure, utter trash. The burden of being the Champion’s little brother is so, so heavy, and Hop can only carry it for so long before something snaps.

After an hour of silence, Hop hoists himself up, and his legs are tingling from resting in such an awkward position for too long. Leaning on the brick wall for support, he stumbles out of the alleyway with slow steps and begins to head back to the Rose of the Rondelands hotel, mentally preparing himself to put on a fake smile for when he returns.

Hop slips into the lobby of the hotel through the sliding doors and steals a glance at his surroundings. The decor is splendid, and the beauty of the dim candle-lit room is mesmerizing enough to make him forget his recent internal crisis. He quickly makes a beeline for the elevators, the sound of his steps muffled by the soft velvet carpet, and just as his finger presses the UP button, a familiar voice calls his name.

“Hop!” Victor’s voice stops the other boy right in his tracks.

Hop can’t bear to turn around to look at the boy waiting feverishly behind him, so perfect and amazing—all the things Hop thinks he’ll never be. He’s scared that if he turns around and sees his face, he’ll shatter into a million pieces from the pain.

But he forces himself to anyway. “Victor!” Hop perks up instantly. The suddenness of this clearly-forced gesture startles the brown haired boy. Victor’s changed back into his regular red polo shirt and designer denim pants.

Furrowing his brows, Victor stares intently into the other boy’s golden eyes, trying to decipher him. Victor isn’t a psychic-type Pokémon, but it’s like he’s using Mind Reader on his opponent. Not that Hop was ever good at concealing his feelings. Still, the possible soon-to-be Champion always had a knack for reading others’ emotions.

Victor frowns, and Hop wonders how much longer he can keep this charade up. “Are you alright? Leon said you weren’t feeling too well, so I came to check on you.”

Hop hurts knowing that Victor’s response is 100% genuine. Instead of celebrating his win, Victor is here worrying about Hop. Like usual. Maybe if Victor were a huge cocky jerk instead, Hop wouldn’t agonize so much when it came to his best friend. No, Victor’s anything but that. And that’s why he loves him so much that it hurts. But that’s not something Hop’s willing to admit to Victor now, or anytime soon.

“Y-yeah, my stomach kinda hurts. I think I ate something bad. I’ll just rest up for now,” Hop lies to his friend. Well, it’s not a complete lie. His stomach does hurt, but for reasons completely unrelated to his alimentation. “Aren’t you and Leon going for dinner? Where is he?”

Victor’s worried demeanor doesn’t fade. “The Chairman called him up for some business last minute, so that’s cancelled,” Victor responds, his empathetic eyes unwavering as he fixes Hop. “Aren’t you hungry? We can get something together.”

Hop is hungry. He hasn’t eaten since lunch, and it was nearly sunset at this point. Half of him is screaming at him to accept Victor’s invitation, but the other half is telling him to get the hell out of there; the tension in the air is so thick you could slice it in half. Hop wants to accompany his best friend, yet he can’t bear to be in his presence any longer. But time’s ticking, and he needs to make a decision fast .

“No, that’s alright,” Hop ultimately settles, but the guilt is eating him alive. He would’ve preferred a Wailord to come crashing through the walls, swallowing him whole. “I don’t think my stomach can take much right now.” His stomach is in knots, and a vile feeling of wanting to vomit surges, but at least he’s technically not lying.

Hop flashes a smile, but Victor’s face still falls. “But…”

Hop cuts him off before he can continue. “Really, don’t worry about me. I’ve got something small in my bag I’ll eat later. You’ve got a big day tomorrow, what with it being your big match against Lee. Worry about yourself, alright?”

At that very moment, the elevator door opens and a couple walks out, passing the two boys as they carry on with their incomprehensible conversation. Hop seizes his chance and enters the lift, frantically mashing a series of buttons to carry him up to the 3rd floor.

Tears begin to well up in his eyes as the sliding doors close in on him, and the platform begins to rise.

Chapter Text

Victor’s barely paying attention as the giant metal skyscraper Pokémon explodes in a loud bang in front of him, while the crowd’s cries and cheers boom around him like surround sound. Raihan watches in disappointment as his Gigantamax Duraludon shrinks back to its regular size as it faints, before calling it back into its Pokéball. His Rotom phone flies out of his pocket to snap a quick selfie, and he approaches the challenger to congratulate him on his victory. 

“Well, looks like you’re the lucky one who gets to challenge Leon. Good luck, kiddo!” Raihan flashes a smile at the young boy, who isn’t even making eye contact with him. Victor’s lost in deep thought about something, or someone.

The Dragon-type Gym Leader frowns when his interlocutor doesn’t seem to even notice his presence. “Hello? Earth to Victor.” He places his hands on the unsuspecting boy’s shoulders and shakes him softly. “You good?”

Victor snaps back to reality with the prod. “Yeah, sorry!” Victor returns a smile to the taller man who’s practically bending over just to reach his eye level. “Thanks for the match!”

Raihan squints his deep cyan eyes that contrast his dark skin, rather unamused. “You know, you should really show some more enthusiasm. You’re strong, but this is no way for a future Champion to act!”

Raihan doesn’t wait for a response and merely struts off with a laugh.

He’s right though—the Champion of Galar is a public figure; they’re supposed to be a charismatic, passionate idol that can take on the role of representing the entire region. But Victor was never really one to covet such celebrity status—he prefers to mind his own business and live life without drawing too much attention to himself. Without a doubt, he has the kindness and the strength needed to be Galar’s strongest trainer, and he loves to battle, but having cameras following him around 24/7 and microphones shoved in his face for endless interviews is definitely not the reason why he signed up for the Gym Challenge. Then, what was? Oh, right.

Hop.

Victor hasn’t seen Hop since their last conversation at Rose of the Rondelands. He remembers the anguish in the other boy’s eyes as he fought to keep his composure in front of Victor. The pain of a thousand Pin Missiles pricking his heart doesn’t compare to the agony of seeing his friend in such a devastating state.

It was only a month ago, but Victor recalls like it was yesterday the day he and Hop were endorsed by the Champion Leon. Victor held the letter in his hand reluctantly, unsure if the Gym Challenge was really something he wanted to do. He was always fascinated by Pokémon battles, and he loved watching all of Leon’s matches on TV, but he still lacked the confidence to actually go and take part.

Hop, however, was grinning ear to ear, and Victor felt the corners of his mouth slowly raise as his friend’s contagious smile instantly infected the brown haired boy.

“Aren’t you excited? This’ll be so much fun!” Hop exclaimed as he grabbed Victor’s wrist, who recoiled at the act, but Hop didn’t seem to notice. Victor’s pulse instantly quickened as he realized how close he was to his best friend’s face. Not that he minded.

With the earnest purple-haired boy besides him, Victor felt invincible. He could be treading Sharpedo-infested waters or scaling Mt. Coronet but he’d know it was OK if Hop was beside him. At that moment, the thought of travelling Galar and trying the Gym Challenge no longer felt like a distant, reluctant dream, but more like a tangible goal that Victor was eager to jump right into.

“Yeah! I can’t wait to travel with you!” Victor responded, beaming, as the feeling of Butterfree in his stomach grew stronger.

Leon’s younger brother pulled the boy into a side hug with a warm laugh that sent sparks down his every limb. “Me too!”

Standing side by side, the two boys were like night and day—Victor’s pale skin, dark brown hair and mocha eyes juxtaposed with Hop’s tanned skin, indigo hair and bright golden eyes, just as well as Victor’s quiet and introverted character clashed with Hop’s outgoing, vivid nature. One would probably question how the two ended up being so close, but the saying “opposites attract” could never be truer.

As days passed, Victor felt his confidence growing steady. He made friends with wild Pokémon, some joining his team, and met other trainers along the way as his love for battling grew. He savoured every thrill of victory, and every adrenaline rush as he was backed into a corner with only one member of his team remaining. He finally found something he wanted to do with his life, and it was thanks to Hop. But there’s nothing more he wants than to be at Hop’s side.

While great, those aren’t the memories that stand out in Victor’s mind. No, Victor remembers their nights camping out together, huddled around a large pot as the invigorating smell of warm apple curry wafted through the dusk air, their shenanigans in Motostoke’s clothing stores trying on funny outfits and laughing so hard at their reflections in the mirror that their ribs hurt and they end up getting kicked out, and lazy afternoons savouring the cool seaside breeze on Hulbury’s docks as Wingull flapped about.

Victor’s soft and analytical, not in denial. He knows he likes Hop in a special way. It’s not his fault every part of Hop is so damn enticing. It’s electrifying, really: the glow casted by the sun on Hop’s bronze skin during Autumn golden hour, the way his luscious plum locks dance with Combee and phacelia in the mild breeze, and the subtle scent of jasmine detergent on Hop’s freshly washed denim jacket. But what Victor loves the most about Hop is the way his eyes light up when he talks about adventure, battling, travelling, Wooloo, and the time a spicy curry left his tongue burnt for an entire week. Victor would rest his cheeks on his palms, stare into those starry eyes and listen to his best friend talk for hours on end.

He wants to hold hands with Hop, wrap his arms around him, and put his ears to his chest and listen to the sound of his heart beat like any teenage boy madly in love. He’s contemplated telling him several times, actually, but he’s afraid. Afraid that, if he poured his heart out, he’d scare his best friend off. Besides, expressing his emotions was never Victor’s strong suit.

Hop probably doesn’t even like guys, Victor would remind himself time and time again. In his eyes, he doesn’t have a chance. Why ruin something great? Even if Hop will never love him back, it’s enough for Victor to know that he’s still one of the most important people in Hop’s life.

Now standing in the stadium, the winner of the finals, ready to fight Leon for the crown as the new Champion while all of Galar has its eyes peeled on him, Victor’s sure Hop never wants to see his face again.

A few hours later, Victor is sitting back in the locker room. He’s done it. He defeated the undefeatable Leon, and now he’s Galar’s newest Champion. But nothing about it feels genuine. Oh, he beat Leon fair and square, but Victor still feels wrong nabbing the title out of the man’s hands like that. Victor wanted this, didn’t he? He loved the fire burning in his chest as his very first companion, Inteleon, delivered the final blow, bringing Leon’s Charizard to its knees. Everything he worked for was for that very moment. So he should be happy. But he’s not.

Victor claimed the throne, but there’s someone else who wants it even more badly than him. That someone happens to be the most important person in his life.

He’s already changed back into his normal clothes, but he’s still not yet ready to leave the room. He keeps glancing at the door, as if expecting a certain purple-haired boy to open it and walk right through, his smile filling up the room with its warmth.

That moment never comes.

Victor’s bum is starting to go numb from sitting on the bench for too long without as much as a single twitch. He should get up and leave; he’s been there for over half an hour and people are going to get worried.

Suddenly, his Rotom phone flies out of his pocket with the buzz of the familiar notification sound ringing in his ears. It’s a text message, and Victor prays that it’s from Hop.

Leon: Are you still in the locker room? Everyone’s waiting for you

Disappointed but not surprised, Victor stares at his screen for a moment before his fingers start typing out a response.

Victor: Yeah sorry, I’m going out now

He slips his phone back into his pocket as he readies himself to put on a Champion-worthy smile despite a heavy heart.

“My congratulations on becoming the new Champion,” a male voice says.

Victor’s autographing session is interrupted by a visibly impressed Chairman Rose and aloof vice-president Oleana who approach him from the side, the three shielded from the crowd by the stanchions and the League bodyguards. They’re in Wyndon stadium’s lobby, and Leon is off somewhere to the side answering several dozen interview questions on what it feels like to finally lose a match, what deodorant he uses, and everything in between.

“Oh, hi Chairman,” Victor greets the man meekly. Rose twirls a long end of his jet black hair with his finger and lets out a little chuckle. Victor wonders how much hair product the Chairman must have to use to keep it so slick.

“I can see you’re already quite busy!” Victor nods when the silence starts to become a bit awkward. “Such is the life of Galar’s Champion. But the real work has yet to come.” The Chairman brushes off a single speck of dust from his grey suit as he turns to eye Leon, who’s clearly too used to dealing with the hungry reporters.

“What do you mean?” Obviously Victor understands that being the Champion isn’t all fun and games, but he has no idea what the actual nitty-gritty work entails.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had a new Champion, and you’re quite young, so I’ve requested Leon to help show you the ropes,” the Chairman begins, and Victor nods even though he still hasn’t received an explanation. “For example, you’ll meet your stylist tomorrow, then your first photoshoot will take place right after, followed by your first meeting with the sponsors the day after...”

Victor’s not listening anymore. The sound of Rose’s voice is starting to fade and mix with the yell of the fans in the background, and his mind is wandering off to other things. His eyes scan the crowd, hoping to see a familiar face, and they light up upon catching sight of indigo hair shuffling among the sea of people. When the person in question turns around, however, Victor lets out a sigh of disappointment. Not a lot of people in Galar have purple hair, yet Victor still thinks he’s dumb for getting so hyped up.

“...After all of that’s done, you should be able to return to your family and friends in a month for a break.”

It’s the only sentence that Victor’s ear catches, but it’s the one that brings him to his senses by its pure outlandishness.

“What? One month? I can’t see my friends for a month?” Victor exclaims, clearly appalled.

Rose is slightly taken aback by the sudden burst of energy, but tries to calm the now anxious boy. “Er, well, you’ll be with us and Leon the entire time.” The statement doesn’t seem to do much to comfort Victor. Rose continues, “We’ll need to get you used to your duties as Champion, but don’t worry—Oleana has everything planned to perfection.”

Victor glances at the tall, slender woman in white and red standing next to the Chairman, whose sharp jade eyes simply return a menacing glare that would send Arcanine fleeing in fear. She’s beautiful, but incredulously sinister—the ultimate femme fatale whose bad side Victor does not want to get on.

Leon seems to have finished answering a million questions about his final match, and he walks over to the trio before releasing an exhausted sigh.

“Well, that’s the last of them,” the former Champion announces. “They’re your problem now, Victor.” Leon sticks out his tongue at Victor, who rolls his eyes, but not without a quick chuckle to show he’s only joking.

Their brief exchange is cut off by the sound of an impatient blonde haired woman clearing her throat.

“Now, if you’ll come with us, we’d like to show you your office in Rose Tower.” 

Spinning around with the grace of Milotic, Oleana walks away without another word, the fading click of her heels against the floor echoing in Victor’s ears. Rose follows her in silence.

Leon places a hand on Victor’s shoulder, startling the poor boy.

“You’ll get used to all this,” Hop’s older brother says reassuringly. “I didn’t get to go home for two whole months after I became Champion!”

Victor turns his head to face the former Champion. “How’d you deal with it?”

“Hmm?”

“You know,” Victor prods. “All the time away from your family. People you care about.” The thought of not seeing Hop for an entire lunar cycle is more disappointing than that time a shiny Applin managed to run away from him before he could catch it.

Leon flashes an encouraging smile at the slightly shorter man, flaunting his pearly-white teeth. “To be honest, I didn’t, really. But I knew it was what I needed to do, and the thought of coming home each time kept me going.” His cheery demeanor suddenly changes into one of guilt and remorse. “But the worst feeling was leaving my little brother behind.”

If Victor thought his heart couldn’t sink any deeper, he was mistaken. Leon’s becoming the Champion meant leaving Hop behind. Victor’s becoming the Champion means leaving Hop behind.

Victor’s sitting at his desk in his shiny new office, which is maybe a bit too spacious for his needs, but perhaps it’s just that he still hasn’t gotten used to the special treatment that’s reserved for the Champion. The room is painted in a boring white, and the only decorations are the four potted geraniums carefully placed in each corner and a single painting of a mountain hung above the entrance.

A small stack of documents lay in front of him that he didn’t bother reading, but instead scribbled his signature on wherever asked. The August sun is slowly beginning to set, and streaks of beautiful orange light penetrate the glass wall behind him and bask the entire room in a marigold glow, signalling golden hour.

He’s staring at his phone. There are no notifications, which is not too surprising considering only a handful of people have his number, but Victor’s not expecting a message from just anybody. Sighing, he shuts it off and turns his attention to the cup of black tea he’s been nursing for the past hour.

Absentmindedly lifting the cup to his lips for a sip, his face scrunches up as the cold liquid hits his tongue with a slightly metallic taste. Should’ve finished it quicker.

Oleana offered it to him, normally a rather kind gesture, but her entire disposition was anything but that. If looks could kill, Victor’s office would be a bloody murder scene.

The drink is utterly Galarian. Despite being an immigrant to this land, it’s not really a cultural shock how much the beverage is so blatantly worshiped, as it’s quite commonly consumed in his native region, too. Granted, he did move to Galar quite a few years ago, but his mind still keeps fond memories of his hometown. Victor recalls seeing his mom sitting seiza in front of the low table with a cup of green tea wrapped in her hands every morning. He never really developed a liking to the taste of what was essentially water flavoured with leaves—in his eyes, at least.

Most people would agree that moving countries is difficult, moving continents even much more, but in Victor’s honest opinion, the only difficult part really was adjusting from a bustling city like Eterna City to sleepy Postwick. When you live in a decently populated area, making at least one friend or two is downright inevitable, but the number of neighbours—and potential friends—plummets when you’re in an old farming town in the middle of who knows where.

So Victor said goodbye to his friends in Sinnoh, before he and what little belongings he had were whisked away to the foreign region of Galar.

Then he met Hop.

Spring had just introduced itself after an entire week of relentless ice and snow that painted the streets white. The cold, Victor was adequately prepared for, seeing as he grew up with Sinnoh’s harsh winters and mild summers. Regardless, he still hadn’t gotten used to the temperamental climate of his new home, so it was a real shock that morning when he woke up to green grass and Rookideesong when the snow had piled up to at minimum a couple dozen centimeters the night before.

He was in the middle of his favourite novel, lying on the grassy hill under an oak tree that shielded him from the scorching sun, when the high-pitched voice of another child rang in his ear. He rested his book—which was at a reading level of at least two years above his age—and looked around for the disturber of his peace.

Victor almost jumped when he noticed a purple haired boy with almond skin, and large golden eyes that shone like the stars kneeling in front of him. Victor had never seen anybody with such features before; Sinnoh’s population was fairly homogenous, in fact. Another pleasant surprise Galar had planned for him, it would seem.

“Hi!”

Victor blinked, unmoving. The boy pouted when he didn’t receive a response.

“Are you my new neighbour?”

“Yeah,” Victor answered, still in shock from the surprise. “I just moved here.”

The purple haired boy raised his eyebrows when he noticed the other boy’s accent, but he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he just smiled, and introduced himself.

“My name’s Hop!”

“V-Victor,” he mumbled, barely audible, to which the other boy responded by grabbing his hand to shake it excitedly.

“Glad to meet you, Victor! Do you wanna be friends?” Hop inquired loudly, eyes gleaming as he eagerly waited for an answer.

Victor wasn’t used to such outgoingness. Back at school in Sinnoh, such energy and blatant disrespect for personal space would’ve resulted in a scolding from his teacher, and cleaning duty. But those rules don’t really apply here.

“Okay!”

By now, the sun is already more than three quarters below the horizon and the natural light is beginning to slip away. The gold in the sky dissipates softly, leaving in its wake a cold, royal mauve that only lingers for minutes before metamorphosing into a final ebony black sprinkled with white stardust.

For the next 30 days, Victor won’t be going back to Postwick. He’ll be stuck in the great Wyndon, inhabiting a VIP suite in Rose of the Rondelands, while Hop will take the train home by himself. Hop, who Victor imagines must be feeling so alone and devastated from his loss the previous day. Closing his eyes, Victor imagines Hop, and wonders how soft his lips would feel pressed on his own. He’s lost in thought about those beautiful deep-set eyes and the softness of Hop’s curls as he imagines running his fingers through his hair.

Hop hasn’t contacted him at all since Victor’s championship, which is definitely bad news. Victor wants to make the first move, but he doesn’t know why he hasn’t tried to reach out to Hop yet. Perhaps it’s the fact that he’s too used to waiting for the other to contact him first as per usual, coupled with the possibility that his best friend might currently hate his guts, that makes the poor restless boy drop his phone in anxiety every time his fingers reach forward to tap out a message.

It’s late, and Victor should really be heading out to his hotel room unless he wants to get locked in by security 200 meters above the ground in a giant skyscraper. He’s turned off the lights and is ready to step out the door when the blue light from his phone lights up half the room with a soft vibration.

It’s Hop!

Victor’s eyes immediately focus on the only text message he’s received that day, besides a few short congratulatory messages from his Mom, Bede, and Marnie.

Hop: Hey vic

Victor has to restrain himself from tapping the notification and entering a response at the speed of light. Instead, he stares at the bubble and three dots on the screen impatiently.

Hop: Sorry I didn’t get a chance to say congrats on your win

Hop: Sonia had an emergency at the lab, so I went back early to help

Hop: When will you be back in Postwick?

It’s only four lines of texts, but it causes a million jumbled emotions to stir in Victor’s mind. First, relief upon realizing his friend must not really despise him if he’s still willing to contact him, and second, crushing anxiety about having to tell Hop they won’t get to see each other for another month.

Victor: Hey Hop! Thanks, don’t worry about it

He hesitates before sending the next message.

Victor: Real sorry, I won’t be able to leave Wyndon for a month :(

Victor: Champion stuff with the Chairman and Leon.. And that scary secretary lady

The bubble appears again, instantly. Victor doesn’t know when he started holding his breath.

Hop: Wait, Lee will be with you too? For a month?

The office is well air-conditioned, but Victor starts to sweat anyway. He can feel Hop’s disappointment radiating from the screen. It’s destabilizing, and it punches him right in the gut with the strength of a Machamp. Victor can’t fathom how Hop must feel knowing that his best friend and his brother will be practically hanging out everyday for an entire month. Without him.

Victor: Yeah, the Chairman said it’s to help me transition to my new role

It’s the truth and nothing less, so why does Victor feel so guilty about it? Maybe because it’s another not-so-subtle reminder that Victor pried Hop’s only dream in life out of his hands. He can’t help but feel like he’s rubbing his new status in his best friend’s face.

Hop: Oh, sorry for bothering you

Victor blinks at the message. But you’re not. He almost yells the words, but it’s not like anyone would hear them. He wants to reach through the phone and pull the other boy in for a long hug. Instead, he can only try to reassure his friend through his orange device.

Victor: Hop?

Hop: Yea

Victor: Everything alright? I can ask for some time off to see you

Hop: No no, don’t, I don’t want to hold up the champion haha

Hop: I’m fine, talk to you later

He doesn’t sound fine, but Victor won’t pry. Instead, he makes a note to spend extra time with his friend when he returns home.

Victor: I’ll text you in the morning, ok?

Victor’s met with a single thumbs up emoji, and he sighs knowing that’s the end of their exchange. He never expected that being the Champion would come with so much heartache.

Neither may have accepted it fully yet, but they’re slowly drifting apart day by day.

Chapter Text

The sound of boiling hot water hitting the bottom of a ceramic mug, slowly changing in pitch as it fills up, is rather therapeutic.

Hop watches in silence as Sonia fills the cup nearly to the brim before handing it to him carefully. He takes the drink without a word. It’s too hot to drink, so he just stares at his reflection in the honey coloured liquid, waiting for it to cool down a bit. It’s jasmine, Hop’s favourite.

“Thanks again,” Sonia says, breaking the silence that’s starting to feel awkward. “For coming to help last minute.”

Hop returns a gentle smile to the visibly exhausted professor, and judging by the dark circles surrounding her cyan eyes, she’s probably had at most 8 hours of sleep in the last two days. “Don’t worry about it.”

During Victor’s match with Leon the previous day, Sonia was busy back in the Wedgehurst Pokémon Lab running experiments on a Wishing Star she had found in Stow-on-Side. She had the brilliant idea of blasting the damn thing with a bit too much radiation right in the middle of the lab, causing an unfortunate mini explosion that destroyed over a thousand dollars worth of lab equipment and caking her and all four walls in black dust. Luckily, Hop came to the rescue on a flying taxi from Wyndon, where everyone else was off enjoying the show, and volunteered to help clean the place up for the rest of evening as well as the next morning, and to help explain to Magnolia what the hell had just taken place in her prized laboratory. Needless to say, Sonia’s making sure to be extra nice to Hop.

“Something on your mind?” Sonia inquires, noticing that Hop has only spoken a handful of sentences since his arrival at the lab earlier in the morning, all devoid of his natural energy that Sonia’s used to. Her voice, almost calming, genuinely shows concern. 

Hop nods softly without looking away from his cup. It’s cooled down enough, but he still doesn’t go for a sip yet.

“Are you thinking about Victor?”

Hop tries to stifle a reaction, but the flustered look on his face immediately gives him away.

“N-no!”

“Ha! I knew it.” The professor places her hands on her hips with a smug grin on her face.

The jig is up. Hop figures he might as well confide in her about his feelings towards his best friend. It seems like a much healthier alternative to bottling everything inside, and besides, he’s known her long enough to be comfortable talking about these kinds of things. Plus she might have the experience and wisdom that comes naturally with her mature age—but her age isn’t really something Hop thinks Sonia would appreciate him pointing out.

“Maybe,” Hop admits, slightly embarrassed. He places the untouched cup of tea on the table in the little dining corner, and slouches in his chair. “Just a little.” Feeling his cheeks heat up, he quickly turns away from her to salvage whatever remains of his dignity, but the redhead notices it anyway.

“Do you like him?” Sonia asks, point blank. An innocent question, but Hop can’t help but feel that she’s teasing him somehow.

“He’s my best friend!” Hop retorts, but the giggling girl leaning on the sink counter across him already seems to have him all figured out. Oh, well. They’re having this conversation right here, right now, no matter how vulnerable or unprepared Hop feels.

“Okay, I like him!” Hop huffs. His face is bright red like he’d just taken a giant bite from a Tamato berry. “Is it normal to feel this way? About your best friend?”

“Course it is. Don’t feel ashamed.” Sonia’s hand reaches out to ruffle the boy’s hair, who protests with a groan. “I know exactly how you feel.”

That’s a sentence that piques Hop’s curiosity. “You do?” There’s an opening detected, and Hop takes advantage of the situation to spin the spotlight on her. “You liked someone too?”

Now it’s Sonia’s turn to be embarrassed. Hop gives her an ear-to-ear grin that screams “now you have to tell me about it.”

“Well, uh…” This is clearly not what Sonia had planned.

“I bet it’s Lee,” Hop teases, not really meaning it. By the way Sonia’s eyes widen, Hop knows that he hit the nail on the head. He knows that Sonia and Leon were close friends who had attempted the Gym Challenge together back in the day, just like him and Victor. If there really was something between Sonia and Leon… Well, clearly nothing came of it.

“What?! That dork?” Sonia exclaims, and the cherry red blush that appears on her face makes Hop grin. He’s having too much fun poking fun at Sonia that he momentarily forgets his own woes. “Not like it would’ve worked out, anyway. He was always running off on his own and getting lost.”

Hop smiles at the thought of romance between his very single and desperately needing to mingle older brother and the new professor, but quickly decides that it would make their entire friendship dynamic completely different.

“Besides, there’s another person,” Sonia mutters, eyes looking away.

“Who?!”

“We were talking about you,” Sonia blurts out in a desperate attempt to remove the attention from herself. “You should tell Victor how you feel.”

“Well,” Hop begins, scratching his nose in nervousness, even though it’s not itching. “It’s more complicated than that, really.” He steals a quick glance at his phone, but there are no new messages. Victor sent him a short “good morning” message like he said he would, but the lack of a more profound exchange left Hop wishing for more.

Sonia simply raises an eyebrow, encouraging the other to continue.

“Now he’s the Champion, Bede’s a Gym Leader, and you’re the new professor. Everyone’s off doing new things,” Hop explains, “and I’m… just falling behind, like usual. I don’t feel worthy of Victor, or anything, really.”

It’s true. Hop has self-admittedly been a nervous wreck the past week. When he made it to the cup, he was thrilled to say the least. But Arceus, was the pressure through the roof. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to win , because his entire career was on the line. He wanted to win, no, he needed to win more than anything. So when he was eliminated before even having a chance to fight Leon, Hop was crushed. To make matters worse, his very best friend and rival was the one to take that away from him. Oh, and Hop has had a giant crush on him for a while, too. That’s too much conflict and emotions for a hormonal boy to be facing.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself,” the professor reassures her young friend in despair. The mood is somewhat glum compared to the playful atmosphere from just a few moments ago, and she makes it her goal to bring it back. “I’m sure Victor’s super proud of you for making it so far. I am too. Everyone goes at their own pace—look at me, I just became the professor after how many years of not knowing what I was doing?”

Her words seem to work a bit; Hop flashes her a warm half-smile, but it still doesn’t cure that terrible feeling of worthlessness pooling in his gut.

After forfeiting the Gym Challenge, Sonia spent the next few years of her life floating by as her friends became Gym Leaders and the Champion. She’d always get an earful from her grandmother about not doing anything with her life. Naturally, then, she’s the only one who can truly understand what Hop is going through, and that’s one thing he’s grateful for—having a friend who’s walked a mile or two in your Running Shoes that can tell you everything will be okay.

It’s nice to have good friends. Hop makes sure to remember that forever.

“Well,” Hop begins, picking his cup up and taking a sip of his neglected drink that’s gotten a bit too cold for his liking. “Victor and Lee will be staying in Wyndon for a month. What should I do now?” Hop’s surprisingly casual tone makes him sound more bored than disappointed. Perhaps his tolerance comes from being too accustomed to his older brother’s absence all those years.

“You should take some time off, for yourself,” the wise girl suggests. Hop looks right at her, and in that moment he swears he doesn’t see a silly girl with no hopes or dreams or passion, but rather a mature young woman who’s decided to get her shit together after too many years of feeling like a failure. No more wallowing in self-pity, hoping for success and glory to magically show up like a Galarian Rapidash at your front door. “Figure out what you want to do.”

What he wants to do? That’s simple—he wants, or wanted, to become the new Champion to dethrone his older brother. Hop’s never really given second thought to his ambition and just kind of went with it. It was the only thing on his mind three quarters of his waking time, so much so that he didn’t even give himself time to think about a second option. In fact, he was so obsessed with his goal that he sometimes even forgot to eat during his travels, that Victor would have to remind him every time his stomach rumbled whenever they were together. And now that his one dream in life is gone, Hop’s left wishing he had a plan B.

“What if I don’t know what that is?” Hop says, voice shaky, but he means it. He’s lost his future plans, and is even slowly drifting away from his own brother and best friend.

“That’s why I told you to figure it out,” Sonia replies, flicking him in the forehead.

“Hey!” Hop rubs the site of the attack.

“Don’t expect to know right away,” Hop’s forehead aggressor continues. “Take a breather. Go around town. Eat desserts. Talk to other people. Anything to take your mind off battling for a while.”

It’s good advice, but the thought of not battling for a while and working his way up to become League Champion unsettles him. But screw it, if he can’t be Galar’s strongest trainer, he might as well take some time off to figure out what he can be.

“Okay.” Hop looks down at his cup. It’s nearly empty, but he doesn’t remember drinking that much. “Sonia?”

“Hmm..?” She’s turned away, taking a look at some papers sprawled on the counter.

Hop’s almost embarrassed to ask it. “Do you think I could hang out here with you for a while?” He barely whispers it, sounding like a lost little child.

“Sure,” Sonia says, voice full of warmth and zero judgement. She turns to Hop, rubbing her temples. “You can even help me out around the lab, too! I’ve been swamped in work.”

Hop smiles. It’s a good start, to be just doing something else for once.

The sound of sneakers on soil makes a quiet crunch sound as Hop travels further into the forbidden forest. Forbidden as he once thought, at least. In reality, there’s nothing dangerous or sinister about the Slumbering Weald, contrary to the tales he was told as a kid to keep him ten meters away from the fence gate at all times. Trekking through dirt and grass paths as the mist in the cool air dances around him, Hop almost feels at home. He can’t really explain why, but he feels something pulling him towards the heart of the woods he and Victor visited for the first time weeks ago.

He’s stopped in his tracks by a strange pink creature floating in the air a few feet in front of him. He can’t really make it out due to all the haze, but he’s sure he’s never seen it before in any case. Instinctively, Hop pulls out his Rotom phone and opens the Pokédex app. Rotom flies out of his hand and snaps a picture of the mystery Pokémon.

Munna: The Dream Eater Pokémon. Late at night, it appears beside people’s pillows. As it feeds on dreams, the patterns on its body give off a faint glow.

Rotom returns to his hand in an instant. Interesting , Hop thinks. Considering the whole sleepy atmosphere of the forest, he realizes that the Slumbering Weald is actually quite fitting for such a Pokémon.

Scrolling through his Pokédex, he sighs in disappointment and embarrassment realizing that he’s recorded only a handful of entries. He’s been so caught up in his personal quest to become the Champion that he practically neglected every other aspect of his journey. Maybe working on the Pokédex might not be such a bad idea to start with , Hop muses. The thought of discovering and learning about different Pokémon is the only thing that Hop finds at least half as exciting as being Champion.

When he looks up from his phone, he practically jumps back upon seeing how close Munna is to his face. It twirls around, emitting a happy cry, and smiles at the surprised boy. Hop lets out a giggle and his hands slowly reach out to pet the silly creature. Munna doesn’t seem to mind—in fact, it snuggles closer to Hop’s hand when it deems that he’s taking too long to touch it.

Munna’s warm to the touch. The air may be cold, but the warmth from the simple contact travels down Hop’s entire body, filling him with memories of Spring playdates in Victor’s backyard and summertime barbecues with the entire family, including Leon, who would only be at home a few times a year. Hop closes his eyes as a smile creeps onto his face, desperately holding on to those fleeting memories of joy and innocence. His trance is suddenly disrupted when he no longer feels Munna’s skin against his palm, and he opens his eyes to see a blob of pink fading away to the distance.

“W-wait!” Hop cries out, but the dream Pokémon is quickly coming out of view. Without thinking, Hop’s feet begin moving on their own.

When he finally reaches the heart of the woods, the only thing in view is the crumbled shrine. There’s no sign of pink anywhere. Hop takes a long look at the shrine before slowly sitting down on the river’s edge.

There’s no sense of danger or panic this time—rather a twinge of bittersweet nostalgia and memories of long-lost naïveté, of a time when the world was exciting and hopes and dreams were stored in the form of companions in red and white capsules. It’s blissfully quiet, save for the occasional rustling of leaves in the wind.

Did Munna lead him here? Or is he just imagining things?

Hop checks his phone for the time. 1:32 PM.

Earlier Sonia announced that she was heading to Hulbury for a lunch date with Nessa, and knowing how to read the room, Hop excused himself. Sonia was on a Corviknight taxi shortly after, leaving the boy all on his own. He was going to call Victor to grab a bite at a Battle Café like they’d done many times during their travels, before realizing that Victor was too busy getting pampered by Chairman Rose and basking in all the Champion glory. Hop had also hoped that the one downside to his older brother losing his title was that the two would have more time to spend together, but clearly that’s not the case. Instead, those two are probably becoming besties in Wyndon, forgetting Hop’s existence.

It doesn’t take long for jealousy, frustration, and loneliness set in, but Hop doesn’t try to fight it. He allows the feelings to wash over him, eroding his entire being.

Hop’s stomach rumbles, but he ignores it. Instead, he lies down on the grass, resting his head on his arms. His mind is starting to wander, and he doesn’t do anything to stop it. Memories of a brown haired boy resurface. The Wild Area. Camping. Sharing a meal in Circhester. Taking the train together.

“I miss you.” Hop whispers it as if it were a forbidden secret, even though there’s nobody around.

There’s a single tear slowly trickling out of Hop’s eye. It might be an illusion, but he can almost hear the sound of a faint howl in the distance as he slowly drifts into sleep.

When he wakes up, his vision is blurry, his arms are numb from having rested his head on them, his lips are chapped, and there’s a nasty feeling in his parched mouth. Wiping his eyes, he checks his phone for the time. He was out for about two hours—the digital clock on his lock screen announces it’s three in the afternoon. An empty stomach reminds him to get his priorities in order: to find some damn food. Arceus, he’d kill for some of Victor’s spicy apple curry right now. It might’ve been the fact that Leon’s lazy cooking in comparison was absolutely horrid as Hop remembers, but in any case he and his humble taste buds truly believe that each and every one of Victor’s cooked meals is nothing less than Charizard Class.

There’s the sound of a twig snapping that stops Hop from salivating at the thought of food and makes him turn around instinctively, seeking the culprit.

A streak of brown hair in the corner of his eyes. It disappears as quickly as it appeared.

“Victor?” Hop calls out, a part of him knowing it can’t be him, another part wishing desperately that it was.

Silence.

He’s not here. It’s not him, Hop reprimands himself mentally. Hunger, fatigue, and solitude can really render someone delirious. Something in his gut is telling him it’s time to leave, and Hop isn’t going to argue with it.

The view of the Wild Area from up above is breathtaking, almost as much as the low oxygen level at such a high altitude. Riding comfortably on his steel-winged friend, Hop basks in the wind as his Corviknight begins to slowly ascend on the steps outside of Motostoke. He’s decided it’s fine if lunch is postponed a few hours ahead of schedule.

It’s Saturday afternoon, so the loud noises of unintelligible chatter and the traffic of moving bodies are not too out of place. Judging by the big crowd huddled together just next to the Pokémon centre, there appears to be a street performance going on. Upon closer inspection, Hop spots the performer dressed in weird striped clothing, face painted in a creepy white, as well as their Pokémon, who looks a lot like one that he’s seen before, but not exactly. Squinting his eyes, he realizes that the Pokémon is a pink-coloured Mr. Mime, which he’s seen before in its regular bluish tint in the snowy routes leading to Wyndon.

Did he dye his Pokémon or something? Hop wonders, laughing at the very thought of such an idea. Pulling out the Pokédex app, he discovers that the strangely coloured Pokémon is actually the more common variant, and that the Ice-type Pokémon he’s used to seeing is only found in Galar. Meaning, those two must be foreigners. That’s two new discoveries in a day, and Hop’s genuinely fascinated by his findings, arguably more than the typical person. Despite never having left Galar before, travelling to distant lands and meeting different Pokémon is something interesting he decides to put on his bucket list.

Hop watches the duo’s strange movements that are in perfect sync, pretending to be trapped in some sort of invisible box. The sound of a rumbling belly is a rather rude reminder that he should be making his way to the nearest café instead.

After awkwardly trying to maneuver his way through a sea of people, bumping into a few accidentally and profusely apologizing, Hop finally finds himself at the entrance of Motostoke’s Battle Café. The bell rings as he opens the door, steps inside and—

Pink and wet. Hop’s foot has barely made it through the entrance and he’s splattered in the face full of something bitter. As the cream-like substance slowly slides off its target, a few drops make it into his mouth, which he spits out in disgust. Wiping his eyes, he looks down and notices a fainted Alcremie on the floor in front of him.

“Oh my Arceus, I am so sorry!” The girl’s voice is familiar. Her accent is familiar.

Black pigtails and Marnie’s concerned face come into view and Hop’s frustration slowly dissipates, but not fully.

“We were just having a battle. I won, as you can see…”

Hop can see. He can see his favourite denim jacket stained with the Alcremie that’s literally lying on the ground, evidence of the battle that just had to end at such an inopportune moment.

Marnie grabs a few napkins and begins to start wiping the gunk off of Hop, but he mutters that he can do it himself. The poor girl just stands there nervously, fidgeting her hands as if unsure of what to do with them, while Hop furiously cleans himself.

“It’s Hop, right?”

Hop nods, as he wipes the last impacted spot of his jacket.

“How about I treat you to a meal? Way of apologizing,” Marnie suggests warmly.

“That’d be nice,” Hop answers, but it’s mostly his empty stomach talking.

Marnie leads the boy to a table for two, and the two are seated facing one another. The Café Master scurries over and apologizes to Hop several times even after receiving his forgiveness.

“Now, what can I get for the winner and her boyfriend, on the house?” the Café Master asks, with an unknowing smile on his face. Marnie’s eyes widen and Hop can feel his cheeks redden.

“Ah, n-no! I’m not… We’re not…” Hop begins to explain, clearly flustered.

“W-We’re just friends,” Marnie finishes, looking away, equally as embarrassed.

“Oh! My apologies again.” Somehow this second apology doesn’t sound as sincere as the first.

Marnie decides to order a Casteliacone, whereas Hop settles for the more ambitious Old Gateau. The food arrives almost instantly, and forgetting all manners, Hop begins to dig in, completely unaware of the girl in the black jacket in front of him. He’s about to start his second piece when he notices a pair of curious green eyes staring at him. Their eyes meet, and Hop realizes they’ve barely spoken a word.

Setting his fork down quietly, Hop clears his throat. “Sorry, I’m a little hungry,” he says with a nervous laugh.

Marnie just returns a nod. “It’s fine. You just looked funny scarfing that down.” She takes a lick of her ice cream, and Hop feels weird to resume eating. He decides to take it slow and actually cut his food into smaller pieces with a knife instead of shovelling the entire block down his throat.

“So where’s Victor?” Marnie asks nonchalantly, breaking the silence. “You two were always together whenever I saw you.”

“Oh. He’s…” Marnie can sense Hop’s reluctance and quickly answers her own question.

“Champion duties, huh?”

Hop just nods, breaking eye contact. His eyes must be a telltale sign of his feelings, because Marnie quickly switches the subject.

“What’ve you been up to lately?” Marnie’s casual tone makes her sound like she’s talking to a good friend that she hasn’t been caught up with for a while, even though Hop would only describe their relationship as being acquaintances at best. Come to think of it, he doesn’t even know if they’ve actually had a full conversation together. He’s only seen Marnie around a few times, and like she said, he was always with Victor, who was the one that talked to her the most. If Hop’s attention wasn’t turned to his stomach, he’d be feeling rather awkward sitting in a café eating with her.

“Nothing, really,” Hop almost spits out the words like they taste foul, and there’s a hint of anger in his voice that he doesn’t mean to express. Especially not at Marnie. But by the way her eyebrows rise ever so slightly, he knows she detects it.

“Yeah, I feel that,” Marnie simply responds calmly without taking offense, trying to empathize with whatever Hop must be feeling. She lets the Morpeko resting on her shoulder try a taste of the frozen treat in her hand. “Didn’t really think I’d lose right before the end. Guess all us poor souls’ll have to figure something else to do.”

Whatever psychological trick she’s using, it seems to work. Hop blinks, curious. “Aren’t you going to take Piers’ place as Spikemuth’s Gym Leader?”

“Figured I might as well,” Marie says with a hint of defeat, leaning back on her chair with a sigh. “Guess my big bro will get his wish after all.”

Hop doesn’t really know how to respond. Should he congratulate her? He’s surely happy for her, but it does sting a little knowing that yet another person is starting a new chapter of their life while he’s stuck wondering what to do with his.

Realizing she’s not getting a response, Marnie prompts, “Reckon you’ll take on the Gym Challenge again next year?”

“Probably not. I don’t think I’m really cut out for it.” Hop bites his lip as he stares at the last remaining slice on his plate.

“Well,” Marnie responds, finishing the remainder of her cone in one giant unexpected bite and swallow. Hop was not prepared for that sight. “Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Hop gets a sensation of déjà-vu, and he almost sees Sonia and not Marnie in front of him, giving him similar advice.

Marnie suddenly sounds stern and serious. “Listen, I’ve never told anyone this, but I feel like you might need to hear it.”

Hop simply nods, waiting for her to continue.

“There’s a reason why I wanted to become Champion. I mean, I don’t care about being famous or anything,” Marnie begins, turning her head to look away as she always does when she feels somewhat ashamed, but Hop doesn’t seem to notice anything particularly embarrassing in what she’s said. So he lets her continue. “Spikemuth’s poor. You’ve seen the place. Growing up, we didn’t have much, so Team Yell and my bro raised me with practically nothing.”

Hop can kind of see where this is going, but he still doesn’t get what she means when she said he needs to hear it. His family was doing rather fine financially, so his dream to become Champion clearly wasn’t money related like hers. He’s about to open his mouth to speak, but Marnie can already tell what he’s about to say, so she holds up a finger to shush him.

“I didn’t want to become Champion for any other reason. So I’ve been thinking, in a sense it wouldn’t have made me happy.”

Happy. The word echoes in Hop’s mind as he realizes what she’s trying to say. Winning the cup was never a real solution. All this time, he believed he was simply chasing a dream of endless fame and glory that the shiny status of Galar’s Champion would deliver on a silver platter. In reality, all the boy ever wanted was to be acknowledged. Sure, becoming Champion’s one way of getting there, except love and praise isn’t exclusive to whoever owns that title. But Arceus is that difficult when you spend your life living in the shadow of your older brother, who just so happens to be the biggest public figure of the region.

He almost doesn’t want to admit it, but that painful truth has always been hiding somewhere in his mind his entire life. It doesn’t matter how well he can hide his insecurities and inferiority complex behind a cheery mask, because the girl sitting across him can see right through it.

“How…” Hop begins, voice faltering.

“You’re easy to read,” is all Marnie needs to say as an explanation, and Hop’s convinced the girl knows Psychic.

There’s the sound of a young boy’s voice that Hop recognizes all too well. His eyes immediately dart up to the television mounted on the wall behind the counter, where the voice is coming from. Hop’s heart almost skips a beat when he sees Victor on the screen, a tiny smile on his face. He’s in a Champion jersey and donning a red cape that’s way too big for his small stature. Hop figures it’s a live interview since another voice off camera is asking him questions that Hop doesn’t pay attention to. Instead, he’s fixated on that cute little hair swirl and how good the jersey looks on him—

“Are you blushing?”

“No!” But Hop can feel the heat rush to his face and he knows there’s no way to trick Marnie.

In response, the girl just snickers. “You’re so obvious,” she says, before continuing to giggle even louder.

Hop simply looks away, unsure of how to proceed. Curious eyes are staring at the two.

“So, have you told him yet?” Marnie asks innocently, after regaining herself, which is met by a wide pair of golden eyes.

“Tell him what?” Hop shoots back, even though he knows exactly what she’s talking about.

“That you like him.” Her matter-of-factly way of getting her point across is something Hop will need to start getting used to.

“Not yet,” Hop answers with a sigh, picking at his food with his fork. His strong appetite from a few moments has completely disappeared, and a strange bubbly feeling takes its place.

As if knowing the worries in Hop’s mind, Marnie speaks encouraging words. “I’m sure you have a good shot. And if not, Victor definitely won’t hate you. He’s a good guy.”

I know he’s a good guy, Hop thinks to himself.

The voice of an enthusiastic woman advertising the new hottest Poké Toys for campers indicates that the channel has gone for a commercial break. Hop tries to switch the subject.

“What are you doing all the way here in Motostoke?” Hop asks, clearing his throat.

Marnie tells Hop nonchalantly that she often travels to different Battle Cafés across Galar to get as many free desserts as she can, earning a chuckle from Hop and sparking a natural conversation that continues to more superficial subjects.

Their chat is interrupted by a buzz and the sound of a notification, but it’s not coming from Hop’s phone. Instead, Marnie picks up hers and quickly reads the text she just received.

“I’ve got to get back to Spikemuth,” she announces, grabbing the tiny red bag hung on her chair as she stands up. “It was nice chatting with you. Here, gimme your phone so I can add you.”

Hop’s still seated, and he looks up at the girl in awe. He unlocks his phone and passes it to her without a word. She taps something into it quickly, before giving it back to him.

“I’ll keep you updated on what I end up doing,” Marnie declares, “and you do the same.”

“Will do,” Hop manages to let out, and Marnie’s already walking towards the door. She pauses for a brief moment before turning around.

“Good luck,” is all Marnie says before she’s out the door. Hop’s left sitting there alone, unsure of what to feel. Out of all people, he would have never expected Marnie to be the one helping him sort things out. Gripping his phone, he stares at Marnie’s Pokégram profile, and suddenly he feels less overwhelmed.

When Hop wakes up in his room the next morning, he’s greeted with a giant streak of daylight that penetrates the window and lands directly on his eyes. He pushes the wrinkled blanket to the side and rubs his eyes with a grunt. Memories of the previous day are quickly starting to rush back to him despite his grogginess.

After taking the train from Motostoke to Wedgehurst, Hop covered the rest of the short distance home on foot. Despite it being late afternoon, the summer sun had no plans of relenting and the poor boy was already soaked in sweat by the time he reached the front door, a dehydrated mess. His mom greeted him hastily, and he was quickly shooed to the side as she and Victor’s mom continued to chat in the living room.

It’d been a long day and Hop wanted nothing more than to take a shower and clean himself of all of that grime he accumulated in the day, then kick back and relax on his bed scrolling on his phone for the next few hours.

Sonia sent him a cute clip of her Yamper running around the lab, Marnie poked him on Pokégram, and he found himself wasting an hour watching strangers arguing online on some forum thread about which berries are the best for spicy curry. His virtual escapade was only interrupted once by a knocking at his door and his mom’s voice calling him downstairs for dinner.

He can’t remember when he fell asleep, but it must’ve been not late at all, because now Hop is up way earlier in the morning than usual. He can tell without even looking at the clock by the absence of the noise of feet shuffling and pots clanging in the kitchen downstairs, knowing full well that his mom almost always makes it a point to get up at the crack of dawn, Sundays included.

There’s one person he’s sure is up right now. After getting ready on autopilot, he’s out the door five minutes later, headed towards Wedgehurst’s Pokémon Lab. For some strange reason he can’t explain, the thought of being surrounded by old books and strange lab contraptions is pretty enticing at the moment.

Walking down Route 1’s dirt path brings back warm memories. The last time he travelled down here was around a month ago, when he and Victor set off on their journey to become Champion. Only one month has passed, but Hop doesn’t feel like the same innocent boy from back then.

His moment of reminiscence is interrupted by the shrill sound of a distressed cry. Not too far up ahead, Hop can make out a Wooloo stuck in the fence gate. Even as he approaches the poor thing slowly, the volume of its wail grows increasingly louder, as if it were afraid of the stranger coming closer.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Hop says softly, and the Wooloo’s ears perk up in response. His words seem to have some minimal calming effect.

One of the small Pokémon’s legs is trapped in the slit of the gate, leaving the rest of its body dangling in an awkward position. Carefully, Hop wiggles the creature free, and if it weren’t for its soft wool, its body would’ve met the ground with a dull thud. The Wooloo tries to stand up, but it yelps in pain, startling Hop.

“What’s wrong?” Hop frowns. The ball of fluff just looks him in the eye with a tired expression.

There’s something wrong with its leg, Hop realizes, moving closer to the Wooloo for inspection. The hind leg that was stuck on the fence is red and swollen, and Hop finds the culprit; a small splinter of wood that managed to find its way inside it.

“Sorry, this will sting,” Hop apologizes to the Wooloo for what he’s about to do, even though it can’t understand him. Hop struggles to hold it in place when it squirms as he pulls the foreign object out of its hiding spot, and in the moment he’s somewhat grateful that he doesn’t cut his nails nearly as often as he should because there’s no way he could’ve worked it out without tweezers otherwise. “There, you should feel better now.”

With one arm cupping the Wooloo, he takes off his bag and reaches inside, shuffling various items around until he finds what he’s looking for. After a moment, he pulls out a potion, and sprays the medicine on the Pokémon’s injured spot. Instantly, the wound closes up and the swelling decreases.

The Wooloo baas, and this time it’s not a cry of pain, but instead one of relief. It smiles at Hop as he rubs its chin, and scampers off in the distance when Hop sets it down. There’s a warm feeling in his chest as he watches the Pokémon roll merrily on its way.

When Hop reaches the front door of the lab, he only needs to knock twice before he’s met with Sonia’s voice in response. “Come in!”

“Oh, hey Hop!” Sonia scurries to the entrance to meet the boy, a stack of very heavy looking textbooks wrapped around her tiny arms. On the verge of losing her balance and dropping the books, she sets them on top of the counter to her right and wipes the sweat off her forehead.

“Did I interrupt your morning weightlifting session?” Hop says playfully, noticing the professor’s heavy breathing after having performed such strenuous tasks.

“Very funny,” the girl in the lab coat retorts sarcastically, but with no hint of real annoyance in her voice. “Actually, since you’re here, could you help take half of these and put them on the shelf at the back? We just got a new shipment.”

After readying herself for another arm workout, Sonia picks up half of the books and begins to carry them to the back of the lab. Hop does the same with the rest of the books, but his curiosity is piqued when he sees the title of the book on the top of his pile.

“Mega Evolution and Dynamax Correlations,” Hop reads aloud, not paying attention to where he’s walking and almost tripping on a sleeping Yamper, jolting the poor thing awake. The cover of the thick hardcover textbook is very sleek and minimalist, with a black background and in the center, an image of what Hop recognizes to be a Wishing Star, next to a strange leaf-like symbol inside a rainbow-coloured circle.

Hop looks up and spots a struggling Sonia on her tippy toes trying to reach the uppermost shelf. She gives up after a futile attempt with a grunt, and turns around to face Hop when she hears his voice.

“Say, Sonia, what’s Mega Evolution?” Hop inquires, curious eyes returning to that bizarre logo on the cover. He’s never heard of the term before, but he admits that it sounds pretty sick.

“Oh, that? It’s some sort of thing they’ve got in Kalos and Hoenn,” Sonia replies casually. “I’m not too familiar with it, which is why I ordered that text to understand how it might relate to Dynamaxing.” She scratches her chin. “But I’m already swamped with other research, so why don’t you go learn all about it and summarize it to me later?” She’s clearly joking, but Hop seriously considers taking up on her offer.

“Deal,” Hop says without a joking muscle in his face, and a surprised look makes its way onto Sonia’s face.

“I was kidding,” she clarifies, “but if you think you’re up for it, go for it. But before you do that, come here and help me with these books.”

Hop spends the next few hours engrossed in the textbook. He barely moves from his seat while Sonia’s practically running laps around the lab, tending to different lab equipment and documents. He gets up a few times to raid the fridge for a snack, which is met each time with complaints from Sonia about how expensive they are and demands for him to pay them back later. However, his mind is buzzing with theories and ideas and concepts that he’s never heard before, and he pays no attention to the angry professor.

Sometime around lunch, Sonia takes a seat in front of the reading boy whose eyes are still peeled to the book. Unbeknownst to him, she’s staring at him while the spoon in one hand is stirring her second coffee of the day.

“Well, haven’t you been devouring that all day,” Sonia points out, causing Hop to nearly jump out of his seat.

“Sonia!” Hop exclaims excitedly. “Did you know people with Key Stones can Mega Evolve their Pokémon temporarily if they’re holding Mega Stones, just like how we can Dynamax our Pokémon with Dynamax Bands from Wishing Stars?” By the way his voice practically raises an octave, he’s rambling on like a five year old child who just learned about the solar system and is eager to recite to his parents the names of all the planets.

Sonia just raises an eyebrow with a laugh. “I’m glad you’re taking an interest in these things,” she says, taking a sip of the sweet brown drink. “Never really thought you’d get so into studying. No offense.”

Hop doesn’t take any. Instead, he’s grinning ear to ear, ready to unleash another barrage of information at the professor.

“But apparently you can’t Mega Evolve your Pokémon in Galar, and you can’t Dynamax your Pokémon outside of Galar, either,” Hop babbles on.

Sonia can’t remember a time where Hop was this excited to talk about something other than his older brother Lee, or one day becoming the Champion, or about Lee being the Champion. So, she just lets him talk. Besides, he’s sort of helping her with her work in a way.

“And why’s that?” Sonia questions, mostly interested in the relevance to Dynamaxing. It’s her main focus of research, after all. Her grandmother, Magnolia, was known for her research in Dynamax, and after having retired, passed the baton onto Sonia who would continue to advance the field.

“They think it’s because there’s some sort of energy within Galar,” Hop explains, reciting the short passage from Chapter 3. “No one really knows where it came from, but it’s what allows Dynamaxing. It also seems to nullify the energy inside Mega Stones, rendering them useless in Galar.”

Sonia stares at the young boy sitting across her, amazed at how much knowledge Hop managed to soak up in a couple hours. Sonia’s already heard about the “energy within Galar” bit before, but it’s still fascinating information regardless. In fact, part of her research involves identifying the source of that very energy, but so far she hasn’t been able to make any realistic conclusions.

“Wow, Hop, I’m impressed,” Ms. Professor says with a grin. “If you love studying Pokémon this much, why don’t I just ask you to be the professor’s assistant?”

Hop looks at her, eyes wide. “Really? Could I?”

Sonia was half joking, but she realizes that it probably wouldn’t be such a bad idea. It would be nice to have someone helping around, and Hop’s still in need of a second option. It’s the perfect opportunity.

“Yeah, why not? I’ve got all the books and materials you’ll need if you want to follow in my footsteps. Plus it’d be nice for me, not being alone all day in a lab.”

Hop stands up so fast his chair falls over. “Brilliant! Thank you so much, Sonia!” Realizing his chair has toppled over, he quickly picks it up and returns to his seat.

“It’s a lot of work, though,” Sonia warns the excited one. “Do you think you could handle it?”

“Of course!” Hop replies with enthusiasm. “You know, I always thought becoming the Champion was my calling, but lately I realized there’s other things I want to do in life too. I want to learn about and help Pokémon.”

Sonia just smiles. “That’s great, Hop! I’m glad you finally found another career path.”

For the next few weeks, Hop spends most of his days at the Wedgehurst Pokémon Lab. Waking up early was a one time thing though, so Hop always makes it over after 9AM, when Sonia’s already been at work for at least two hours. The boy can’t fathom how the professor can force herself to get up at the literal crack of dawn every day, but she just huffs that the peacefulness of the wee hours of the morning is what makes her the most productive. Hop doesn’t buy it, and decides to stick to his own routine, which Sonia’s too busy in her own world to object.

Besides fetching her coffee and the frequent cleaning and shelving duty, he’s assigned daily readings, tests and quizzes of increasing difficulty and quantity, a method Sonia calls “easing him into the workload of a true professor”.

“You need to get used to life as a student,” Sonia said sternly when Hop finally complained about the ridiculous 30 pages of readings per day. “This is a fair amount of work for the average student in Hoenn, you know.” Hop muttered under his breath that she was just a sadist and enjoyed watching him suffer, but Sonia whipped around immediately, staring daggers at him, and he never dared make another crack like that.

Hop sucked it up, though, and surprisingly he was able to complete all of his tasks, usually by late evening. He genuinely enjoyed the material even if it was excruciatingly taxing at times, and it was a good way to get his mind off… certain things.

He’d go a few days at most at a time without thinking about his best friend, Galar’s new Champion. Victor hasn’t called or texted since the morning after the finals. Hop’s sure there’s a reason why—he’s way too busy, Chairman Rose won’t give him a single private moment, Oleana threatened to kill him if he didn’t obey every instruction—that must be it, and that’s what’s keeping Hop from blowing up the other boy’s phone. That, besides the strange feeling that surges in his chest whenever he thinks about that brown haired boy. It’s a bizarre thing—wanting desperately to see someone yet not wanting to be in their presence. Hop can’t explain it, and he doesn’t know if it’s a bad or a good thing.

So, he busies himself with his studies, and he swears he’s never spent so many hours a day sitting down in his life.

While Sonia’s a great person to be around, Hop decides he’s going to go crazy if the only social interaction he has is with a mad scientist above his age group, so he decides to chat online with his newish friend, Marnie.

Hop: Hey, Marnie! Just letting you know I decided to become a Pokémon professor :)

He’s on his usual 30 minute break in the second week of his new career, and besides running laps around the lab and emptying the fridge of its snacks, there’s not really much else to do during his recess.

She responds rather quickly.

Marnie: Wow, congrats. Wait, you’re the professor now? Just like that?

Hop: Well, no! I mean, I’m the professor’s assistant, but I’m training to become one in the future :P

Marnie: Ah, I see. Well, I’ll have you know that I’m Spikemuth’s new Gym Leader

Hop: So you went with it after all? Congratulations to you too, then!

Marnie: Ehh, it’s whatever. I’ll definitely quit if I find anything more interesting

Hop chuckles. The conversation eventually diverges into more broad topics, such as what shows and movies they like, to their favourite Pokémon and favourite food—Marnie makes it clear that she really likes Casteliacones and Morpeko.

Hop’s so engrossed in his texting that he only realizes his 30 minutes are up when Sonia snatches the phone out of his hands.

“Hey! Let me at least finish my message!”

“Break’s over, no phones in class,” Sonia announces, imitating a cranky old teacher she once had in high school. Hop probably doesn’t get it because he only completed the minimal mandatory schooling years ago at a young age, during which his parents were responsible enough to not spoil him with a Rotom phone. Most young aspiring trainers decide to go this route, even in other regions, especially if they’re dead set on tackling the League Challenge.

“Can I have my phone back?” Hop groans.

Sonia shuts off the phone in front of the student’s eyes, much to his disappointment. “You can have it back when you’re done with the chapter test. And you have to score at least 90%.” She struts over to her desk and stores the phone in a drawer.

The next three weeks pass by uneventfully. Hop doesn’t travel anywhere besides to his house and the Pokémon lab, and several Battle Cafés for a few lunch hangouts with Marnie. While he’s enjoying his new, tranquil life, he can’t help but feel like he’s missing something important.

He’s about to finish the current chapter of his latest textbook when an excited Sonia who just got off the phone announces some big news.

“What?” Hop asks, somewhat annoyed that she removed him from his element when he was so close to finishing the page.

“Leon and Victor are coming back tomorrow night!” She almost screams it.

“What?” Hop stutters. He’s ashamed to think that he hasn’t been thinking about them as much, but when the initial shock wears off and he finally digests the information, Hop can feel a flood of excitement crashing down on him at the thought of finally reuniting with the two most important people in his life (sorry Sonia!).

“Oh, I know!” Sonia lifts up a finger, mouth forming a slight O. She’s clearly struck with another brilliant idea, as displayed by her iconic “I have a brilliant idea” pose. “Let’s throw a welcome back party!”

“A welcome back party, huh,” Hop replies with a chuckle. “Not a bad idea.”

“Yup!” Sonia blasts back, proud of her ingenuity. “At your place. And you’re setting up the decorations!”

“You’re abusing your powers as my mentor.”

“You’re getting tomorrow off.”

“Okay.”

Besides Sonia and Hop’s family, Raihan and a few other Gym Leaders have shown up to welcome the two idols on their return. Plus Marnie, who Hop decided to invite without giving it second thought, considering she’s basically the only friend he’s had in the absence of the two people Hop spent most of his life with. He’s sort of surprised she agreed to come, because Piers decided to sit this one out and the two are usually always together.

Hop’s in the living room with his mom who’s a bit too vocal at expressing how impressed she is at Marnie’s Morpeko’s triple cartwheel on the sofa, but Marnie’s loving the attention and keeps commanding her partner to do more tricks in exchange for that sweet, kind of embarrassing applause you only get from a mother.

Raihan, Nessa, and Sonia are in the kitchen talking about clothes or gossiping about something petty that Hop doesn’t care about, and while his house has never been more lively, Hop still feels alone.

Noticing his lack of participation in his mom and Marnie’s conversation about desserts, Marnie gives the worrisome boy a little nudge. “Still worried about Victor, huh?”

Hop nods in silence, gripping his left arm with his right hand, a nervous habit. It’s nearly half an hour into the party and the two special guests still haven’t made their entrance. 

“There’s probably a good reason,” Marie suggests in an attempt to calm Hop’s nerves. “Maybe they had extra work at the office or something...”

Hop doesn’t really buy it, but he returns a half smile anyway. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Now, about those pastries your Mum made,” Marnie grins, grabbing Hop’s wrist and almost dragging him out the room to the kitchen so he can watch her scarf down ten macarons in record time.

As soon as the two exit the room and step into the entrance hall, the front doors swing open and the entire house goes silent.

“We’re home!” an adult male’s voice announces. Upon catching a glimpse of long indigo hair, Hop immediately frees himself from Marnie’s grasp and sprints to his older brother to hug him.

“Lee!” Hop wraps his arms around Leon and buries his face in the taller sibling’s chest, soaking in the warmth of a jacket he’s not used to seeing. Or, feeling. When he finally pulls away, he notices that his older brother’s champion jersey is nowhere to be seen. Instead, there’s a thin red jacket in its place.

“Hey, Hop, miss me that much?” Leon responds warmily, ruffling his younger brother’s hair. This time, Hop doesn’t protest the action.

“Yeah, you were gone for so long!”

Hop looks out the open door next to Leon, and notices a certain boy in a red polo shirt and knit cap that Hop doesn’t realize how much he missed.

Before Victor can say a word, Hop’s already closing the distance between the two, and pulls the boy into a long overdue hug when he reaches him. One month apart has made Hop almost forget the familiar scent of his best friend’s clothes, and the warmth he feels from their embrace that travels down his entire body.

“Vic!” Hop says, not caring about the pairs of watching eyes fixated on him. “You’re back!”

“Hey Hop,” Victor says, wrapping his own arms around Hop to return the hug. “You’re… kind of suffocating me.”

Hop, unaware that he was probably about to crush the poor boy’s ribs, lets go and takes a step back. “Sorry!” he says with a nervous smile, putting his hands behind his head.

Raihan and Nessa come to take turns giving Leon a hug, and the two drag the former Champion to the kitchen so that they can finally start drinking with Sonia. Hop is too focused on his crush to notice they’ve left.

“It’s been a while,” Hop says, and Victor just nods before breaking eye contact. There’s a hint of shame in his eyes.

“Hey, Victor.” The two boys turn to face Marnie.

“Marnie!” Victor says, mouth open, raising his eyebrows. “You came too?”

“Pfft, don’t you see me standing in front of you right now?” Marnie leans back, resting her hands on the small table next to the boot tray behind her. She almost knocks over a vase but pretends like nothing happened.

“I guess,” Victor responds, not really knowing what else to say. “It’s good to see you.”

Marnie just nods. “I’ll let you two catch up,” is all she says before scurrying off to the kitchen.

The two boys are left at the entrance of the house, alone. The air suddenly feels thick, and there’s a silence that takes a little too long to be broken for it to be comfortable.

“Mate… I missed you,” Hop begins, twiddling his thumbs. He’s trying to look his best friend in the eye, but he’s worried he’s giving off the impression that the hardwood floor is more interesting than the boy standing right in front of him.

“Me too,” Victor says with a smile. “Arceus, it’s been a long day. I’m happy to be back.”

Victor looks different. Hop only needs to take a single glance at his face and he can decipher every single change in feature since their last encounter. There are slight dark bags under Victor’s eyes, which seem slightly sunken.

Hop still remembers the last words they spoke to each other. He still feels guilty about deserting Victor in that hallway back in Wyndon, and he doesn’t know if Victor remembers it, too. But if he does, neither boy speaks a word about it.

“Tell me all about it,” Hop says with a smile, grabbing Victor’s wrist and bringing him upstairs, away from the living room where their moms will gush over the new Champion and keep him occupied for a good 15 minutes. Selfish, but Hop figures they’ll get their time after he’s done catching up with his best friend.

When they reach Hop’s room, he plops on the bed while Victor pulls up the desk chair and takes a seat.

“Well, look at our Champion,” Hop says, breaking the silence as he gestures to the man in front of him. “How do you feel, Vic?”

“Pretty tired,” Victor responds with a yawn. “Chairman’s working me until I die. Well, if Oleana doesn’t murder me first.”

Hop tries to imagine what Victor’s daily life at the Rose Tower is like. He remembers when Leon became the Champion; he came home after two months and was complaining about the workload for the entire weekend. There’s probably all these interviews, meetings, photoshoots, dress rehearsals, and everything else famous people have to do that Hop thinks is way cooler than his boring new life reading textbooks that really need to enlarge their font size before Hop becomes nearsighted from all the eye strain.

Hop’s never seen Victor talk so much before in his life—he was always pretty reserved and Hop would be the one mostly talking in all their conversations—but tonight was a different story. Victor continues rambling on for a solid five minutes about how strict his two new bosses are, constantly correcting his posture and gait, telling him when and how to smile, mandating his outfits, and even hiring a professional coach to teach him how to properly interact with interviewers and fans like a “true Champion”.

Hop points out that he doesn’t remember Leon ever talking about having to have to go through that last part.

“Yeah, because he didn’t need to,” Victor snorts. “He acts like an idol, with or without a camera in his face.” That’s a snarky reply that Hop would never recognize coming out of Victor’s mouth, any day. But Hop’s not complaining about it. In fact, he finds this side of Victor rather cute, so for the first time in his life, Hop’s listening more than he talks in a conversation.

Victor seems to return to his normal self after all that venting, and the conversation steers to normal subjects the two would usually chat about. Fond memories of their travels together ebb and flow into distant nostalgic moments of their childhood, when their lives weren’t about battling or desperately clawing at fame, but instead just being two kids awkwardly stumbling through life.

“Remember our first day of school together?” Hop reminisces. “You were basically glued onto my arm the entire walk to Wedgehurst. Thank Arceus we were placed in the same classroom, else I swear you’d be crying every day without me.”

Victor buries his face in his hands. “Don’t remind me of that. It’s hard going to a new school when you know basically nobody in the region.”

About half an hour later, their talk is interrupted by the sound of loud metal pots banging against silverware and loud yelling. Curious what all the fuss is about, the two boys slip downstairs in haste.

“Everybody! I have an announcement to make!” Leon’s voice booms from the kitchen. He sets down the two frying pans he abused to make such a ruckus, and clears his throat. The room is almost packed, and Hop didn’t even know his kitchen could fit so many people inside.

“Well, what is it, big guy?” Sonia says, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. Nessa tries to stifle a giggle.

Leon shoots Sonia an annoyed look, but the daring redhead demonstrates her lack of a soul by just sticking her tongue at him.

“Me and Raihan are going on vacation to Alola for two weeks!”

The enthusiasm is met with silence, which is clearly not the reaction Leon had hoped for, because that awkward grin is plastered onto his face as his eyes dart around the room, waiting for an applause or something grand.

“Wait, wait?” Hop says, incredulously. “You just got back home. What’s this about going on vacation?”

“Glad you asked,” the older brother proudly responds. He’s definitely just glad somebody said something. “Seeing as I’m no longer your beloved Champion, the Chairman decided to give me a proper goodbye with an all-inclusive trip to a tropical resort!”

“See, he got two tickets,” Raihan butts in, placing a hand on his old rival’s shoulder, “and since old Leon here had nobody to go with, I decided to volunteer as tribute so he didn’t waste a good ticket.”

Part of Hop feels slightly betrayed he’ll be away from his older brother yet again, but part of him is happy that he at least has Victor.

“Have fun, I guess,” Hop mutters, but nobody hears him over the sound of a champagne bottle popping open.

The rest of the night passes by rather uneventfully. Hop notices that Marnie’s always about to leave the room or suddenly becomes very engrossed in a conversation with Milo or Nessa whenever he and Victor approach, as if trying to avoid the two. Hop’s worried he’s done something to upset her, but his suspicions are cleared when he sees her give him a knowing wink and a thumbs up as she parkours around coffee tables and sofas to keep her distance from the two.

A few hours later, when the party’s over and the house is cleared of nearly all visitors, Victor lingers for a little longer. After giving Victor a long hug, his mom was the first to leave, complaining about stiff joints, a tired back and having reached that age where “beauty sleep” becomes “just sleep”.

Victor offers to help clean the dishes with Hop as Hop’s mom sweeps the floor, picking up stray party cups and napkins, while Leon’s passed out upstairs after Sonia and Raihan bet that he couldn’t take ten shots of whiskey straight.

Hop’s mom pops her head into the kitchen as the duo are about to finish cleaning the last plate. “I’m hammered. I’ll see you boys tomorrow,” she exclaims with a sigh. “You know Victor, your Mum isn’t the only one who needs her beauty sleep—I mean, ‘just sleep’.” Victor laughs and Hop rolls his eyes.

There’s a click and the lights upstairs are turned off. Hop and Victor are the only ones left in the house that are awake, and Hop breathes a sigh of relief knowing they’ll finally get a private moment together.

“Wanna sit outside?” Hop suggests, wiping his hands dry on the towel hung next to the sink, and his friend nods his head in compliance. They head to the door, making sure to quietly close it on the way out. Victor takes a seat across Hop at the outdoor table next to the house, where Hop’s family always sits to eat during their barbecues.

It’s some time past midnight, but they’re both strangers to darkness, as their surroundings are well illuminated by the full moon that’s free to reflect as much light from the sun as it wants; there’s not a single cloud in the sky. It’s not chilly outside at all, kind of warm rather, which is not uncommon for an August night in Galar, where distant stars in the sky can be seen twinkling.

“It’s so beautiful out,” Victor barely whispers.

Even though the lighting’s not perfect, Hop can see Victor’s rosy cheeks, visible on pale skin. Victor’s eyes are staring off in the distance, almond eyes wide and full of wonder, and Hop can’t comprehend how the simple look on Victor’s face could illustrate so much gentleness and warmth. A slight breeze kicks by, lightly nudging the brunet’s little hair swirl back and forth.

You’re beautiful.

“Vic,” Hop chokes out, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I—uh...”

“Hey, what’s that over there?” Victor exclaims suddenly, interrupting his friend’s confession. He’s pointing to something in the distance.

Even though it’s not too far and Hop has 20/20 vision last time he checked, he squints to make out a figure floating about in the dark above the little backyard pool. The colourful flowers in the background camouflaging it in a sort don’t really help in making the sight more clear.

Before Hop can respond, Victor’s out of his chair and running to approach the mysterious being, but suddenly slows down when he gets near, as if trying to not scare the thing away. Hop gets up and slowly walks towards Victor and the stranger, who’s blocked by Victor’s back.

Victor turns around with a laugh as Hop approaches him. Victor’s holding his arm out, and there’s a beautiful Pokémon with wings coloured with a beautiful yellow, red, and blue, resting on it. It flaps its wings with a cheerful cry, illuminating the coloured patterns with a bioluminescent light that instantly reminds Hop of those fairy mushrooms back in Glimwood Tangle. There’s the faintest scent of nectar and honeysuckle wafting in the air.

“Isn’t it pretty?” Victor says, the edges of his lips raised in the biggest smile Hop has ever seen.

“Yeah, it is,” Hop responds blankly. Not as pretty as you, though . “That’s a Beautifly, isn’t it? I thought they were native to Hoenn.”

As quickly as it arrived, the winged Pokémon takes flight and disappears into the midsummer night sky, leaving a small trail of colourful dust in its wake. As the Beautifly fades away into the distance, the glow emanating from its body begins to blend in with the dim lights from stars in the sky.

Victor’s eyes widen in response. “Ah, is it?” he says, scratching his head. “How’d you know that?”

Hop grins in anticipation. “I forgot to tell you, but I’m Sonia’s assistant now. Studying to be a professor one day, too.”

Victor’s mouth is agape. “That’s amazing, Hop!” His blue denim jacket collides with a red polo shirt in a flash, and next thing Hop knows, he’s wrapped in a tight hug, chest pressed against his best friend’s.

When Victor pulls away, Hop just scratches his neck, looking away.

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?” Maybe Hop’s imagining it, but there’s a subtle hint of accusation in Victor’s tone, slightly bitter to the taste but as a whole, innocuous enough to not warrant any suspicion.

“You were busy,” Hop almost snaps back, immediately regretting going on the defensive. His next sentence is much more soft and quiet. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

Furrowed eyebrows and glassy auburn eyes tug at Hop’s heartstrings.

“Nothing you do would ever bother me.”

Their eyes meet. Silence.

Kiss me, Hop thinks, dying to say the words out loud. If it wasn’t dead quiet, he wouldn’t be able to hear the drumming of his own heartbeat.

Instead, he just says, “I’m glad.”

All of Hop’s bravado from before quickly drifts away, faster than the Beautifly that briefly rested on Victor’s arm. It’s the perfect moment to confess, but Hop can’t seem to get the words out. In fact, he can’t seem to even look Victor in the eye for more than a few seconds a time.

Victor takes a seat on the stones surrounding the little pool, and pats the spot next to him, inviting Hop to take a seat. The water behind them is tranquil, and by the absolute silence, the entire world seems to be asleep.

“Hop, there’s something I want to ask you,” Victor says meekly, out of the blue. Hop can feel a pit forming in his stomach, but at the same time, a fluttering feeling of Butterfree, and he can’t tell if it’s a good or a bad thing. He prays that the question that comes out of the mouth of the boy sitting next to him is the same question he’s been dying to ask all night.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think Marnie hates me?”

Hop turns his head and blinks a few times.

“What?”

It’s Victor’s turn to face Hop. There’s a pained look in those brown eyes, and his lips are slightly curled in a frown.

“I think she was avoiding me,” Victor explains. “I barely got to speak a word with her tonight.”

Hop can’t understand why he feels like his heart is chipping apart.

“What did you want to talk to her about?” He realizes that it’s a weirdly intrusive question to be asking, but the words come out of his mouth anyway.

“Nothing in particular. Just maybe catch up?”

“Well,” Hop fumbles, a bundle of nerves at this point. He finds himself doing the catching up for Marnie, intentionally or unintentionally, but ultimately wanting the conversation to shift back to other things. “She’s Spikemuth’s new Gym Leader.”

“What? Since when?”

“She told me a few weeks ago,” Hop says, jogging his memory.

“You talk to her?” Victor’s turned his entire body to face Hop. It’s an innocent question, but Hop feels like him, of all people, the Champion, the biggest face in all of Galar, asking it, is just so unfair .

“Yeah, and?” The words burn from the moment they leave his vocal chords, lingering for a while even after they’re expelled from his mouth. “Who else was I supposed to talk to while you and Lee were gone?” All of a sudden, his muscles tighten and his entire body is flushed with a hot feeling. He’s never felt this angry before, especially not at his best friend.

“Hop, I—” But Hop’s already standing up and facing the other way. His breathing is sporadic, and he's broken his promise to himself to never lose his composure in front of Victor again.

Buzz.

Hop turns his head slightly, just enough so that he can see Victor scrambling to get up while pulling the Rotom phone out of his pocket.

“Uh…”

“What is it?” Hop’s voice is a lot lower than usual.

“The Chairman wants to see me in Hammerlocke tomorrow,” Victor responds, voice almost trembling. “He says it’s really important.”

Hop turns his entire body to face Victor, eyes wide in disbelief. “We were gonna go camping out in the Wild Area tomorrow.”

It used to be just the two of them. Inseparable. It’s not the same anymore.

“I can tell him another day—”

“No,” Hop insists, but it sounds more like a command than anything else. Victor flinches at the sudden change in demeanor. The outside air is warm, but Victor almost shivers at the coldness seeping from Hop’s voice. “You should go tomorrow.” It’s a shaky, unstable voice that Victor remembers from after their last battle at the stadium.

110% of Hop’s being is screaming at him to stop pushing his friend away, but conflicted emotions overpower all logic and reasoning.

“But what about our hangout?”

Hop’s not facing him anymore. He’s slouched over, grabbing his arms like in a self-hug. But it’s not a true hug that fills you with warmth, it’s one that’s necessary to prevent you from shattering apart. “It’s late. You should go home.”

“Wait—”

“Please go.”

Hop doesn’t dare turn around. He’d rather continue walking away than turn around and see the hurt he’s inflicted on his friend, and a part of him isn’t sure anything he can do will ever make up for it. Each step feels like trying to walk with boots of lead, and even if gravity were to disappear in that moment, the weight of the sin Hop feels he committed would pull him down to the earth below him.

The door closes shut. Hop peeks out the window. There’s nobody there anymore.