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Strange as it may be, there was a hidden flavour to the dish that was Ash Ketchum.
Sure, he was as clumsy and clueless as any burgeoning trainer (especially since he came from another region), and sure, maybe that Pikachu was a trade or a lucky catch. Even Iris assumed he just became of age, right until he snapped that no, he started four years ago and can you please stop calling me a kid!
Which did anything to assuage any doubts, because now that just led to the mystery of what he was doing for the last four years of his journey.
Which was surprisingly hard to figure out. And maybe it was because he only ever consulted Professor Juniper about his Unovan Pokémon, or despite all of his energy he rarely devoted it to anything other than battles. He doesn’t talk about the past at all and rarely talks to them in the first place if it didn’t relate to Pokémon, food or lodging, and it’s strange because someone like him doesn’t have the texture of being secretive, someone so bright and caring and too self-sacrificing.
Everyone has their roots. And call it what you will, but that electrifying spirit of his is too self-assured and strong to not have anything else attached to it, and it was frightening to see the steel in his eyes as he throws himself so easily in harm's way, and even if his moves were off his strategies tastes clear enough for there to be at least some history.
How to help him. How to connect. Some understanding; a little nosy and a little wanting.
At the very least, to know why he was on his journey. The way forward and the way back.
“Why would you wanna know? I’m here now.”
“Yes, but,” and Iris took the chance to take another bite of the fruit she keeps on her person, “We barely know anything about you. It kinda feels like you fell out of the sky, y’know?”
Cilan tried to keep in his, admittedly bitter, snort to himself. Apprently the aroma was still detectable by the rest of the group, as Ash looked towards him as well, lips pressed tight and eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t tell me you guys are all ganging up on me, huh? I thought Unova was a free region, and anyways you don’t see me asking you about your private stuff.”
The connoisseur raised his hands up in a peaceful gesture. “Hey, I never said anything now. But I do agree that Iris brings up a good point; knowing the soil where fruits grow can really go a long way to understand how they can be incorporated in a meal. Either way we won’t force you to tell us, it’s entirely your choice.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m not saying anything.” He stands up and starts to walk back to the sleeping bags and then beyond it, towards the forest, ignoring how Iris called out at his retreating figure, “Coward!” and how Cilan yelled out, "Please come back!" a beat after.
The rest of the night was frosty and he didn’t return until morning, where they all tried to ignore what transpired the night before and he was as bright as Morning Sun in response.
(Just another mystery as large as life as large as him)
And is it so bad, wanting to know? He’s so annoying, poking into her business and telling her stuff that she doesn’t want to hear, and yet he clams up after she asks him something? It’s not wrong, wanting to understand him. He may be a trainer, but sometimes it feels like he’s treating them a bit worse than his rivals; something that he will leave behind as soon as he gets all those Gym Battles done and finishes the Unova League.
Elder warned her that there will be good people and bad people out there, and those who pretend to be something other, but that’s not Ash. She knows it.
So who is he?
Iris was going to get some water from the Pokémon Center when she heard his voice.
“As you can see, I’m okay. Seriously, I’m super sure. Don’t you trust me?”
She paused in the hallways, leaning a little over as she tried to make out what he was doing. He was talking to one of the video phones, rubbing the side of his head bashfully as he made his case, and for a second it hit her.
“Mum, I promise you I’m cleaning all my clothes.”
He was calling home.
“He is here, right?”
And the thing is, it would’ve been the right thing to leave him alone. It wasn’t any of her business, as he keeps saying, and anyways she doubts he had anything terribly important to say. The last few days in between civilisation visits they’ve been trekking through forests, and while there were a few mishaps, it managed to be farely uneventful for the lot of them.
“How are you always at the Professor’s place every time I call anyways? Saying mother’s intuition doesn’t count, y’know.”
And yet.
“How’s my Pokémon? They’re all cool, right? I feel bad that we left you with all of them for a week, so how’d ya feel if I got some quality chocolate for you? And please don’t share with anyone, okay? Ya gotta be assertive with these type of things. Misty will get her own share, so if she’s around let her know.”
It was the real him. A small part of it, anyways. A part that she would like to know, and befriend, and travel with. Going his own pace. No battle in sight.
“It’s been kinda weird travelling around this place, like, wow, I couldn’t recognize a single Pokémon at the start. I thought you were joking when you said they aren’t in any other region; you should’ve seen their reactions when they see Pikachu! Still, it’s been okay. I’ve been getting my own team of Pokémon here, and we’re getting through the gyms. And you know, there’s these clubs over here too, where you get even stronger by training with other people! Cool, right?”
His home is in another region. Maybe over there it’s morning, and whoever is there is getting breakfast or lunch, calling him in the light of the sun. It must be strange, living somewhere else so different, without anyone you know. It must be at least a little scary, and a bit sad, and yet he’s still here, burning up with so much energy.
“No, no, it’s not that late! Hey, don’t tell her that, I thought you guys were on my side here! Okay, fine, I’ll go to bed. See you next time. I won’t forget to call, I promise. Tell everyone I said hi! Goodnight from my side!” And with a click, he turned around, adjusting his hat to fit over his head again as he let out a large sigh. She went to press herself against the wall, hoping that he didn’t notice, and maybe some luck was on her side because all he did was walk into the nearby corridor towards the dormitories.
So uneventful, underwhelming, simple.
To say the least, it was one of the few times he felt real enough to touch.
Ash? That boonie? Yeah, he was a weird one.
Not that he would care about such a loser, because seriously, he doesn’t. That guy just doesn’t seem to understand boundaries and keeps coming at him like a Lilliepup, latching on to him in this uncomfortable way. He doesn’t understand that he’s not interested. He doesn’t understand that he doesn’t want to waste his strength on someone weak like him when there are Champions to beat. Once the kid spots him in the crowd, his peace of mind signs out.
(Except… it feels like he’s holding back. Like he’s trying to replace something with him. Like a video that suddenly becomes viral.)
Look. He’s just doing what he can to make sure that the kid gets the lesson once and for all. Secrets mean nothing when you’re two to six.
“Hey, Pikachu, why don’t we try that one again?!”
“Pika!”
Of course the boonie would be out at this time, he thought dryly. Even though it was sunset, Trip still brought out his compact camera and focused it on Ash, who was getting hyped up about something that ought to be good.
And if it wasn’t, well, he could just leave.
His Pikachu started to charge up, curling all of that electricity to the end of its tail. After a few more seconds, the Electro-Ball went flying, and Trip had already packed the camera away and was just about to excuse himself when he felt the air suddenly spark from all the way they were.
He turned around right when three spinning bolts of lightning arced around the ball and sharpened it into a jagged spear, splintering the large boulders into dust. It was a big boulder. Massive, even, and not only did it decimate it but it dug a deep hole beneath, a vertible sinkhole.
And that tiny mouse Pokémon just done all that without breaking a sweat, launching a few more into the night sky and meeting the blasts in the middle with an Iron Tail that could probably challenge Legendaries.
(And not for the first time suspicion crowded in his head, that there is no way someone like Ash from Pallet Town, Kanto, could ever lose to someone like him.)
Just like every other time he finds his dreams threatened, Trip finds himself walking away feeling like he just erased his camera’s memory chip. Casual outside and steaming inside, trying to fit the picture he saw into something palatable. Failing all the while.
Y’know. Pretty basic stuff.
Ash looks at Bianca like she’s someone else.
It’s weird, except that it’s not. She doesn’t really know how to explain it, but every time she knocks him into some body of water he looks… not haunted? Reminded. Something that clicked into his mind and keeps replaying every time their shoulders brush, something familiar to him. Like a joke only he knows.
She doesn’t mind, not really. As long as nothing bad happens and he keeps on forgiving her, she’ll take it. Even if she’s a bit curious to know about what he’s seeing, about the hidden punchline (oops that’s not supposed to be a joke), she can wait. It’s not really important, and he’s a good friend, and anyways no one else seems to get like that anyways, from what she’s seen of the world so far.
So maybe it’s just her. Even so…
It’s hard to explain it, but she can’t help but wonder every time he lets himself take the hit.
“Are you sure you can take care of him?”
She giggled at his and Scraggy's double Leer attack, taking the opportunity to swing the Pokémon into her arms. “Sure I’m sure, Ash! Trust me, I know how to check on a snuggly little bun like him.” Nuzzling up next to its face, she cooed happily, ignoring its squirming cries.
He sighed, rubbing this forehead and almost knocking his hat off. “Well, if you’re sure. You know, here’s his food just in case he’s hungry. And when he falls on his knee real hard, you gotta give him this Oran berry, I’ve got it right here. If he’s sleepy, then don’t pick him up; just set him down on the ground and watch him quietly. If he’s clingy, there’s something nearby so you might want to check (carefully of course), and don’t worry too much if he starts to climb up trees— he’s just practising some new moves. Did I miss anything?” Ash bit his lip, looking off into the distance as his hand tangled with his hair and bunched into a fist. “I’m still not the best at looking after baby Pokémon, but you get the gist, right?”
She blinked, hands loosening enough for Scraggy to jump away and stick its tongue out at her. “Wow, Ash, I never knew you… know all that.”
He shrugged, crouching down to rub Scraggy’s head and passing the small pouch to it. “Still not the best at it,” he repeated, hat tilted down even when he got up. “It’ll be a quick run to get some firewood, so don’t go anywhere, please.”
And he ran into the forest, leaving her with more questions than answers.
A rustling sound came towards them half an hour later, Scraggy scrambling upwards to ready its High Jump Kick when Iris and Cilan came out of the thick foliage, panting hard and perking up when they saw them. “Bianca! It’s good to see you guys again. Hey, where’s Ash?”
(Then again, when is she not?)
He’s like a freight train, that guy.
Stephan would know. He’s been on one, hits back like one and has even trained his Pokemon on one (don’t ask) (apparently it was a subway train?). Ash is indomitable, a fighter, fire and spark and an overpowering desire to win. He’s always willing to try new things. He doesn’t stop (he never stops, not since he’s met him and maybe even beyond that). He’s always on the hunt for a challenge, and well, who better to give it to him?
He’ll beat him. He knows it. It’d be great if he remembered his name, but the way he is able to bring that heat to his relationships with friends and foe alike, with Pokémon themselves? It’s awe-inspiring.
If only he’ll get his name right too.
“You could be a Nurse Joy if you wanted to, bro.”
Ash barked out a surprised laugh, grinding up a few Berries a bit harder at that comment. “You really know how to compliment a guy, Stephen.”
Stephan drooped, scratching his cheek with a finger. “It’s… oh, who cares. I still gotta thank you for helping with Sawk, he can get pretty overworked after some tough exercises.”
The smaller teen shrugged. “I get it. When it comes to trainin’, it’s easy to get lost in it all. That’s why it’s important to have a specially made meal ready for Pokémon afterwards, so they can get their energy back and feel refreshed for another round. Later on, of course, so they don’t really become too overworked.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like Cilan,” he teased, nudging him for extra measure. Ash froze, before chuckling weakly. “How do you do this, anyways? He taught you or something?”
“No,” he said, leaving off the pestle and grabbing a Leppa Berry, shredding a few flecks of it onto the pellets before scraping a spoonful of the mashed mix and dropping it on top. “Bone apple teeth!”
The muscular trainer gave him a questioning look, before taking the bowl and taste-testing one of the pellets. “Thanks? Wherever you learnt to make good grub like that, you’ve gotta get me the recipe. What a treat, I’m sure Sawk will really thank you for it!”
“It’s not that good,” he defended, putting his hands up as he got up and carried the dishes along with him (almost covering them). “I’m just covering for Cilan since he’s stuck in that connoisseur battle with Burgundy or whatever, and besides, it’s literally a bunch of Fighting-Type pellets with some Berries on it, that’s all. And I should be thanking you and Sawk for giving us a good battle— Pignite really appreciates it, especially since he just evolved a few days ago.”
Looping a thick arm around Ash, he said, “Hey, you’re plenty good yourself! You’re totally a big and independent guy, just like me, and with skills like that, you can definitely go far in the League. Your experience is amazing, and you’ve heard it first from a Clubsplosion winner, so you better know it’s real.”
He laughed, pushing him away with his free foot while twisting his head (in which he was holding his hat with his teeth) away from Steffan’s grabby free hand. “Go away and actually give that to Sawk, Mr Humble Pie.”
“Okay, okay, Mr Nice Guy! I’m going, I’m going.” Walking away, he looked back at him. “And thanks for the first aid back there, Ash.”
Ash gave him a small, gentle smile— so much at odds with his usual fiery self. Looking away, he murmured, “You’re welcome, Stephan.”
Too quiet for him to hear the last bit, but the warmth behind it was conveyed all the same.
So get this, she does not care about Ash What’s-His-Name.
Yeah, tough break. The world does not revolve around little boys running around in different regions trying everything out willy-nilly with a bunch of friends. It doesn’t really revolve around anyone in brutal honesty, but hers? It’s about getting revenge on Dragon-Type-using Village Of Dragon people whenever she can, and Iris is not only the closest but the most ambitious, so it’s pretty much set in stone.
It’s like this: Georgia, greatest Dragon Buster around, defeating (and rubs it in her face afterwards) Iris, a formidable but sadly a very big loser of a Dragon Master (who actually uses Dragon-types, please).
Except for the fact that she doesn’t have any Dragon-types she can reliably use in battle.
(And this is where that kid comes in)
“You had a Gible?”
“Whoa, hey, gimme some space please!”
She managed to snag Ash when he was taking a small break outside (apparently he didn’t like being cooped up in buildings too long if he wasn’t doing something), and he was looking anything but pleased when she loomed over his seated form and said that. Maybe it was also because she had closed her fist around the front collar of his shirt and shook him about, but she wasn’t going to risk him running away when she heard the news from a little Sinnohan Flying-Type friend of his. A friend of Iris knowing how to train Dragon-Types— having one— and not helping her one bit? Unacceptable.
She said as much. “Not until you tell me where you’ve been all this time when Iris has been stuck with one lousy Dragon-Type move with a barely grown hatchling of an Axew for the last few months.” She tugged him up for extra measure, bringing him up to her eye level.
He glared at her, using his fingers to pry himself free with uncanny force. She let go, only to step closer into his personal space as he stumbled down towards the ground. “C’mon! Just answer the Reshiram-damned question already! It shouldn’t be too hard with all those good old times flowing through you.”
“It’s really none of your business, Georgia,” he bit back, standing up and almost spitting into her face. “So leave me alone already.”
She stood in his way, her hands on her hips as she sneered. “Oh, so the little kid doesn’t like it, huh? Too bad. I already told you what you need to do to get me out of your tiny selfish world.”
“I’m not selfish!” he suddenly screamed, fist curled in a punch as she dodged and caught his arm, where she had to then let go as he actually tried to bite her arm away. As she winced in disgust, he took a few running steps away from her before turning around to watch her give him a fixed look, something looking like tears sparkling at the edge of his eyes as he continued to shout. “Why would you need to know what I have anyways?! We don’t even… I don’t even talk to you?”
And before fingers are pointed, it must be understood that she's not totally heartless. And even if she didn’t expect him to break down so quickly, to be weirdly attached to his code of silence, she still had too much riding on this to let it go (she needed to, for too many reasons to say). If she got the challenge she wanted right now, if she defeated it after a long and arduous battle, when she triumphed over a Dragon Master—it all started here, with the basics.
(It starts with a friend from an old journey with an open mouth, is what everyone thinks in the end)
She really doesn’t care about Ash, but if he knows how to teach powerful Dragon-Type moves, then she really has no choice.
She sighed, rubbing her head underneath her cap, looking away. “Look, I’m sorry if I hit some sort of sore spot,” she tried next, throwing a nonchalant hand in order to diffuse the situation, “But if you could help your friend get one step closer to her goal, then why couldn’t you?”
“Because she knows what her own Pokémon can do,” he snapped back, dusting himself off and adjusting his crooked hat. “And unlike you, I know she’ll become a Dragon Master whether she knew I could teach Draco Meteor or not. She doesn’t need a shortcut from me of all people, okay? So just drop it.”
And he just walked away, like that.
And of course, because it never really counted if it wasn’t a Dragon-Type, she just let him be. She just walked away herself, in the opposite direction, watching the big blue sky and wondering why did she feel like she did some horrible wrong to the universe.
(Ash doesn't win the Junior Cup. Maybe he made the right decision after all)
Listen, she can smell lies.
It’s true! As a connoisseuse, her senses must be fine-tuned to understand all bonds between Pokemon and trainer, and so when that snivelling low-brow loser said ‘I don’t have any other Pokémon’ on that day, well, it’s understandable that she saw red.
(it's an exotic scent; spice and rich tea and burnt coal, seafood and smoke and camphor, a touch of cold and a drop of sludge and a sprinkle of dust, something more but never less)
No one fibs to the very best connoisseuse and gets away with it! If that undeserving pity that is Cilan couldn’t see it, then that shows that he shouldn’t be in A-Rank. And if he’s running around with brand-new untrained and boring Unovan Pokémon instead of listening to her counsel, then he’s just as deluded as his travelling buddy.
Mark her words, she will show them that she’s right. And they’ll regret not bowing down to her the minute she walked into that dratted association.
Except, of course, nothing ever really goes her way.
After getting out of another tournament too early to even fathom, she was forced to stand in her designated corner and seethe uncomfortably alone (until it was time for her partner in petty civil crimes to come along, naturally). And of course an unfamiliar social butterfly decided to land nearby, even though she didn’t even lose yet.
Of course she would be Ash’s friend. And that means exactly what it usually did.
“So, what’s between you and Cilan?”
Point blank, even when she was ignoring her presence. “What’s it to you, gosse?” Burgundy sniffed, turning her cheek at her. “Even when I warned you about him, you’re still cozying with that miserable excuse of a Connoisseur, and I’m not about to share with the enemy.”
“He seems pretty good at the Connoisseur stuff to me,” the girl said, sounding too confident for someone who's not even from the region in the first place. “Why, do you have a better way of doing it?”
Ah, yes, the nosy types. Still, when given a stage, one should always take full advantage of it. Maybe she can wiggle in a convert out of this conversation. “If I didn’t then I wouldn’t be here, oui? The fact remains that he is low-level rabble, while my advice is specialised perfectly to any circumstance.”
“And how will you back it up?” She was a lot closer this time, convediently covering her mouth by putting her propped up fist over it, and it’s obvious that the Sinnohan was just amusing herself here. Burgundy was too. There really wasn’t much entertainment when waiting for the other unknowns to finish their battle. “Have you actually evaluated anyone yet?”
“I have, en fait, done a splendid evaluation of your little Kanto friend once. But I cannot help if he’s a big, stinking liar just like the rest of his ilk.” She closed her eyes, slightly smug, waiting for the—
A surprised honk of an exhale, followed by a step forward. “Ash isn’t a liar! How would someone like you know, anyways?”
She opened her eyes to lean in close, making a show to look around the area (everyone was taking some sort of break, staying in groups making small talk or walking out of the building) before looking away with a careless expression. “What can I say to such a cruel question without breaking confidentiality? After my parfaite evaluation, I told him to switch out his Pokemon, and he refused. Even told me that he didn’t have any. The refusal was already one insult too many, but any connoisseuse worth her salt knows the difference between a trainer with a small team and one with something more… expansive.”
The Sinnohan looked doubtful then, looking down towards the ground. “Well, he doesn’t really carry his Pokemon from other regions except for the leagues, but it’s all for a good reason!” Fixing her gaze towards her, her expression was more steely than before. “If he wants to focus on his Unovan Pokemon becoming strong, then that’s that. There’s nothing wrong with it, and if that’s the only problem you have with him then you need to get your priorities checked. Ash has way more things wrong with him than a technical half-truth.”
“It’s a lie to a connoisseuse like me,” she huffed, flicking her hair for emphasis. “And was I wrong? Maybe if he switched it up with his tried and true Pokemon once in a while, he could actually win something worthwhile.”
She paused then, thinking about that surprisingly candid statement. Even the girl blinked, before sighing. “Even if that is a valid point, aren’t you supposed to also give hints on how to get closer to your current Pokemon? You couldn’t have done that instead?”
Her fist bunched up in her lap before she let it go, righteous anger abruptly swept out from beneath her. It couldn’t have been that easy. She was right, wasn’t she? Suddenly Cilan didn’t feel like the only threat. “Look, that’s all in the past, and he’s not my real competition anyways. So if you want someone to bore you to death with fancy words, I bid you au revoir. I don’t have the time or the piece of mind to waste on someone who isn’t willing to hear the truth.” Moving away herself, she went out on the hunt for some actual people to talk to.
Because she’s right, okay? She knows what to do, down to the very last crumb. She didn’t need help with helping someone sort out their unruly world, and she definitely didn’t need help with her own life.
The world will just have to adjust to her acquired taste, and the likes of Cilan will have to be stomped out by a very fashionistic and chic S-Ranked connoisseuse that she happens to share a name with. Along with everything else, of course.
It really is that simple, to her anyways.
(Somehow, that kid managed to be centre-stage even when it wasn’t about him. Just accept the truth, maintenant!)
Riolu cocked his head at the intruder, giving a soft bark of curiosity.
This stranger feels familiar; his aura weaves and glows with an intensity that he never felt, something he would expect from a personified sky or earth or even space itself. Bigger and bigger, warmth wrapped inside ice, and yet he acted just like his Trainer— happy and go-lucky and ready for a fight, always. He feels like a Lucario but much older, like what he imagined the Legendary Dragons would feel, like a hand reaching out to him and saying,
“Hey there!”
“Y’know, my Riolu– Er, I mean, my Lucario. He really likes you, Ash.”
Cameron, if he was a little bit more aware, would have remembered how Ash looked like when he saw Riolu for the first time (surprised, hand shaky, generally looking like his world got rocked right ‘round) and how he looked when it evolved in the middle of the Quarter Finals (burning up with energy, less shocked somehow, motions sure). This Ash looked different, of course (contemplating, looking at his right palm, jaws locked firmly), but even if he forgot he was never one to rely on something like that! “You’ve probably seen some in Sinnoh, haven’t you? Maybe even fought one in a battle or something.”
Ash flinched, turning towards him with wide eyes and a pacifiying gesture. “What makes you think that?!”
He laughed. “Apart from you travelling with a friend over there (she is a friend, right; the one that went to Johto)? The way you fight, of course. You have such an intense battling style, and the way you fight is so out there that I’m sure this isn’t your first time, no way.”
Ash slumped, looking away with a pout. “Yet somehow you, a rookie, bet me.” Then he gave him a curious look. “How many times do you think I’ve done it, then, Monsieur Smarty Pants?”
“Um, three?”
“Ooh, I want to get in on this!” Stephan popped out from somewhere nearby, a towel slung over his shoulders as he stood near them and leaned his back over the right side of the balcony. “I’m going to go with one. You tried it once and then stunk so bad it took you years to get back in and that’s why you didn’t remember how to catch a Pokémon. Wow, I’m so proud of you for getting back up and trying once more.”
“Hey! I only forgot that one time, and that’s because I wanted to get its attention!”
“Uh, wrong. You forgot twice, which is such a little kid thing to do.” Iris flipped down from the floor above, catching the railings and perching on top of it to everyone’s fright (and Cameron’s surprised jump back). “And you’re giving him too much credit, guys. This is obviously his first one, which also explains why he’s such a little kid in the first place. Don’t try to tell me I’m wrong.”
Before Ash could tackle her off the railings, Cilan called out from the other side of the room, “If we’re each choosing a different number, then I’ll go with two. Your techniques have the distinct smell of fine aging, but it’s at a slow and steady simmer to truly bring out the depth and uniqueness of flavour that makes up you. A culinary delight for everyone to behold.”
Bianca garbled something from the bench below them, probably trying to finish another CasteliaCone. “Ew, at least finish eating first!” Iris called out, shaking a fist for good measure (which Axew copied with enthusiasm).
“Pots and kettles, Iris.”
“What was that, Cilan?”
“Nothing.”
“Well,” Bianca finally piped up, mouth finally empty of food, “I’ll say it’s nine!”
Ash did a double take, looking over the balcony to watch her wave her hands enthusiastically from down below. “What.”
“You're very good and you never give up!” she yelled back in answer, and silence fell over the group. There was a small laugh in the background that broke it, and Ash was stuck sputtering in confusion as Stephan clapped his back in a mock half-done Helmich manouver. Iris shrugged, giving a short and pithy remark over Cilan’s longer and more eloquent talk while Cameron then started asking for Stephan to ‘Do it to me, I really need a back-scratching-rubbing thing right now!’ when Bianca decided to get up to their floor, and it was then when Ash came to a decision.
“This is my fifth regional league. Sixth if you count the Orange Islands.”
A true hush enveloped the crowd. “Oh,” someone said, but everyone was shocked enough that it didn’t matter who said it (Cameron just got bowled over by Bianca, so even he was shocked).
Ash held a rueful look, looking out to the horizon. “Yep. Went through Kanto, Johto, Hoenn and Sinnoh before coming here. Didn’t expect to start again so soon, especially since everyone I’ve travelled with had left me before I came here. Honestly I only came to Unova to see it with Professor Oak and my mum, but once I saw Trip get his first Pokémon… I couldn’t really resist, y’know? It was all over from then on.” He threw a look at Iris. “And for your information, I took a long break from coming here, so cool your jets when you go tell everyone about the Pokéball incident, okay?”
“That’s no excuse—“ Iris started at the same time Stephan said, “Wow, that’s actually kinda impressive.”
“Impressive? Try amazing!” Cameron gets up to Ash’s face, his Lucario hovering nearby while holding a twinkle in its eyes. “So how are they like? I always wanted to travel around, but all the planes and ships never really come on time.”
“You’re saying it as if you come on time,” Ash huffed disbelivingly, but doing it with a wide and open smile (that was so honest and new and yet so Ash-like, so real ). “Well, as far as I’ve seen they mostly follow the same rules: you get eight badges battling Gym Leaders and go to the League. But of course there are different Types that Gym Leaders specilise in, and the differences don’t stop there! There are so many different Pokémon in every region, and the places are so cool, and the food! Oh man, don’t get me started there.”
"Ooh, do start about the food!" Bianca gushed, trying to come nearer while bouncing in her place. "I've tried some specially made taiyaki once in this multi-regional festival, and it tasted simply divine! I always wanted to go again, but then I got distracted by another—”
“How many Dragon-Types have you met?” Iris interrupted, waving her hand over the crowd to get his attention. “Did you fight them? Were they strong? Did you somehow trip over your foot and win?”
“You can be so—”
“How far did you get into the leagues?”
"Um, well..."
“Which starters do you get in each region?”
"Oh, theres—"
“Who was your toughest opponent?”
"Huh, actually—"
And on and on, through their packing up and the closing ceremony, until the last firework sparked up in the sky.
“Hey, Trip?”
He turns around, giving Ash an indiscernible look to anyone else who sees it (but Ash knows that look— it’s the same one he had when he lost in his first league and tried to stay strong for those precious few hours before he fell apart in his own room) (these are the first few hours after their own battle, before he realised the same realisation he had back then too). “What do you want?”
But he’s grown, right? They’re all their own person, and they all have their own battles to fight. Ash knows that, or at least, he should’ve. “I’m sorry.”
Trip blinks, his arms going slack as his hands almost slip out from their pockets. “What?”
Ash knows tough rivals. He’s been against rivals that hold shared history with him, rivals with the same fire as him, rivals with truths and ideals that ultimately clash with his own. Rivals that show him a new path, rivals that are a reflection of him. All of them magnetic forces, drawing them inexorably towards each other. Becoming stronger together. Learning something along the way.
What can he say? He’s still the boy from Pallet Town, all scratched up and roaring for battle. “You’ve worked really hard with your Serperior since it was a Snivy, and all the battles I’ve had with you have really made me see what an awesome trainer you are. If we weren’t matched from the get-go, I bet you would’ve been going a lot farther than me when I first started.”
He gives an unimpressed look, turning away to face the path outside of the Pokémon Centre. “That’s all you got to say? I don’t need pity from you, believe it or not. Maybe in the boonies were you come from you would’ve gotten high, but this is the Unova League we’re talking about. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, and yet I still lost in the first round. It’s clear I still have a long way to go if I’m ever going to challenge Alder.”
And that’s the problem: that he wasn’t supposed to be going up against Trip in the first place. That all Trip wanted was to beat the Champion of Unova, and it just happened that the Champion he once met wasn’t the same star that he saw when he was little. It just happened to be that Ash was there too, and the Champion connected with him more than Trip, and compounded with all of the other failings he must’ve seen— somehow, somewhere, Trip’s focus slipped from that old dream to a new grudge, and Ash stuck himself in the middle of it while running away from his own problems.
When will he learn? That you can never start all over again from scratch (the truth), and your heroes are always best left on seen (the ideal)? That when he heard the Pyramid King yell out to the younger brother of a prodigy ‘why did you start on the Pokemon path in the first place?’ (or something similar) back on his last journey, it also meant himself, the flip side of the coin, but in a different way? “This isn’t pity, I promise. I got into your way a lot before, and we both ended up not getting what we wanted. Not to say that it’s all about me, but I still feel like I messed up your goals big time. But that doesn’t matter to you, does it? You’ll keep battling your way up the League all the way to Alder himself, and you’ll beat him there too, no matter who stands in your way. And I know you’ll make it, and this is coming from someone who's travelled a lot and been to a lot of leagues. Even met some Champions myself. So what I’m trying to say is that I hope to battle you again someday, a full six on six. Just like before.”
Trip let out a long breath, shifting his footing a little before stilling once more. He turns his head to face him and says, as confidently as ever, “It won’t be as easy as it was today, you got it? If you can deal with that, then it’s fine with me.”
Ash gives him a smile, and jerks a thumb towards his chest. “I won’t be the same person either, you know? I’ll be getting a lot stronger for the next time we’ll meet, and I won’t go down as easily as I was before. Zekrom isn’t going to go easy on you the next time because you lost the League to me, if that’s alright with you.”
He shrugs. “If you say so, Ash. No dumb luck is going to save you next time either.” He turns away and starts to walk on forward, towards the sunset setting over Vertress City, and Ash’s heart pangs again with loneliness because even if they weren’t supposed to meet they did, and even if they weren’t supposed to be rivals they were, and it was another loss all the same. “Until we meet again.”
Except for the fact that he knows how to deal with it, this time around.
“Best wishes, Trip!”
A backwards handwave.
(somehow it felt different to all of the other times, and yet, still the same)