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Posey Roses

Pokémon Holiday Exchange Fic

Peony sighed as he adjusted the collar of his shirt in the mirror.

He didn’t know why he agreed to this.

His wife, Petunia, seemed to have read his mind, coming up behind him and placing her hands on his shoulders, massaging him, helping him relax. She planted a kiss on his cheek before gazing at his reflection.

“You’re doing the right thing,” she said to her husband. “He really wants to make things right between you.”

“I know, but…” He drifted off. There was so much tension, so much animosity. He didn’t know if he was capable of being kind to the man who took so much from him, his career, his fame. He had pondered what he’d say once they were face to face, how he’d react to seeing him after all this time, after everything that had happened.

“It’ll be all right,” Petunia told him, a phrase she’d been repeating since he’d received the invitation, since that obnoxiously perfumed letter came in the post. Expensive letterhead, swirling cursive and a stamped wax seal added to his annoyance over the whole thing. He was half-convinced to tear it up then and there, ignore the message inside entirely.

“I know,” he repeated, turning to her. The smile he gave her didn’t quite reach his eyes.

She had convinced him it was a good idea to go, to entertain the idea of making amends. The pain Peony felt in his chest just thinking about it told him otherwise, that this was a very bad idea. But Petunia was a better judge of these things. If she thought there was a chance this could go well, he would listen to her and try his best.

He just wasn’t sure how good his best was.

He gave his wife a peck on the lips before she went to go check on the girls, make sure they were getting ready. The girls had never known their uncle, only seeing him on magazine covers, on the telly, on posters plastered all over the bloody region. The larger-than-life energy magnate. Chairman of the region’s Pokemon League. An eccentric billionaire whom their father refused to talk about or even acknowledge.

Most of that was gone now, though, Peony thought. His title, his company. His fame had turned to infamy. His billions were reduced to millions. Still too much money in Peony’s mind. But Petunia was sure he was struggling and needed family to support him. Peony was skeptical.

He had texted his response. Informal. To the point. “Got your letter. We’ll be there.”

He had nothing more to say. I accept your apology? ‘M sorry for what’s happened? I love you, too, big bro? The rift was too great, the relationship too broken.

Peony finished adjusting his wardrobe in the mirror, then left to go check on the rest of his family.

~🌹❤🌹~

Things had gone rather quickly since he had turned himself in to the authorities. The aftermath of the whole incident, the court proceedings that followed, the sentencing. His attorney told him he’d be able to get him off on everything, a complete acquittal, but that meant pleading not guilty and going to trial. And he couldn’t in good conscience plead not guilty to crimes he knew he had committed.

His lawyer still fought for a minimum sentence, doing the absolute best he could considering the circumstances. He was ordered to pay a hefty sum to all those affected by his actions, medical bills and the costs for reconstruction of damaged property. He was to spend the next five years under house arrest and an additional year under supervised probation. He was allowed to keep his Pokémon, but was prohibited from taking part in any battles, even if it was only for recreation. The magistrate had been extraordinarily lenient and told him he was lucky there had been no loss of life else he’d have been guaranteed time in prison.

Straight away, after his arrest, he voluntarily stepped down from his company, sold most of his shares, and renounced his title as League Chairman, deciding it best that he no longer be the face of Galar, the figurehead of the region. Opal took legal custody of Bede, deciding to train him to become the next Fairy Type Gym Leader. Oleana took over Macro Cosmos, downsizing the monopoly, removing all traces of his involvement from company operations, relegating him only to company founder. Leon became the new Chairman of the League and was awarded Rose Tower as part of the legal settlement from his injuries, transforming the building into the Battle Tower. Everyone he’d known immediately cut all contact. He wrote letters of apology to everyone he could, asking for forgiveness, hoping there was something he could do to make things right. Every letter went ignored.

Except one.

He hadn’t expected to receive the text, to hear the jingle from his Rotom Phone, but when he received those two short sentences from the least likely person, he started to cry.

~🌹❤🌹~

Peony, Petunia, and their daughters, Peonia and Penny, were crammed into a Corviknight Taxi on their way to Wyndon. The two teenagers stared out the window, never having seen the big city before. It was still far off, but the tops of the skyscrapers, the monorail and the Wyndon Eye Ferris Wheel were visible in the distance.

“That’s his tower, right, Dad?” Peonia asked, noticing the spire of the Battle Tower.

Peony couldn’t bring himself to glance out the window. He folded his arms and stared at a small scuff on his shoe. He had been certain he did a good job polishing them, but now he was noticing all the little imperfections. Just like everything else he did. No matter how hard he tried, he could never do anything best, never do anything flawlessly. He could never outshine him.

The aching in his chest was getting worse. He wondered if he was motion sick from the flying taxi. He took in a deep breath.

He suddenly felt Petunia’s hand on his arm, rubbing up and down soothingly. “It’ll be all right, dear,” she said, giving him a warm smile. She was always so good at understanding how he felt, even when he was starting to shut down, keeping his emotions all bottled up inside, when he struggled to put his feelings into words.

He took her hand in his and squeezed it gently, then dared to peek out the window, glancing at the building nearly touching the sky, the larger-than-life structure that loomed over the rest of the city, towering into the clouds. A monument to extraordinary success, obscene wealth, a disgusting level of privilege and vanity. A perfect symbol of everything about that man, in Peony’s mind. A perfect symbol of hubris…of arrogance…of…

“Yeah, Nia,” he said, turning to his daughter. “It was his.”

…of destruction…of downfall…of disgrace…

Peony frowned, his eyes involuntarily drifting once more toward the former Rose Tower, his gaze fixed on the monolithic structure. Like if he were to blink, it would disappear on the horizon, be nothing but a shadow of a once great empire. A lost kingdom. Vanished to time.

He let out a deep sigh, turning his gaze back to his family. “It was his,” he repeated. “But not anymore.”

~🌹❤🌹~

He immediately made his way to the private rooftop of his penthouse once he saw the Corviknight Taxi approaching, his nervousness increasing with each step. He took deep breaths as he shakily climbed the stairs, wondering if he had been mistaken, that they weren’t really coming, that the taxi was just flying past, that it wasn’t really them. But when he stepped out onto the terrace, he watched as the taxi descended over his private landing.

He put on his best smile and waved up at the two teenage girls staring down at him through the window. They waved back, one with a broad, bright smile. The other looking more reserved, shy.

He hadn’t seen his nieces since they were infants, over a decade ago. When there was still a hope that he could mend the relationship. When he utterly failed to do so. The argument that had ensued escalated so greatly at the time, he reckoned he’d never see nor speak to his brother, or his family, ever again. He had missed out on their lives, never getting a chance to see the girls become the beautiful young ladies that were now looking upon their uncle in wonder. Like he was an entirely new person to them.

Which he supposed he was.

A sudden wave of guilt washed over him at the realisation that his nieces were about the same age as that boy…Bede.

Rose knew he had been a terrible father figure for the boy, a terrible surrogate parent, neglecting his wants and needs, only using him for selfish gains, punishing him but never rewarding him. Just another one of his failures. Another person he’d wronged who had no reason to forgive him. Another letter left unanswered.

The taxi landed, the Corviknight on top flapping its wings a few more times before settling down. Almost instantly, the door flew open, and one of the teens scrambled out, ignoring the driver’s announcement of their arrival and the reminder to watch one’s step. She looked absolutely awestruck by the extreme luxury around her.

“Blimey! Is that a bloody pool?!” she shouted. “On the roof?!” She turned back to the taxi as her sister calmly stepped out and quietly took in the extravagant surroundings. “He’s got a bloody pool on the roof!”

“Language,” Petunia called to her daughter, carefully stepping onto the terrace, staying near the taxi, turning to talk to the man who still remained in the cab.

Rose smiled, grateful that things were starting off on rather good footing, that at least one of his nieces was already enjoying herself. He took it as a sign that things might not go as disastrously as he was anticipating. That some people might actually enjoy his company. Or at the very least, his pool.

“You’re welcome to swim in it if you’d like,” he said, laughing.

The girl’s eyes lit up for a moment, before suddenly dulling. She frowned. “Haven’t got our cossies,” she said, looking dejected, twirling her earring around her finger in a habit much like he had with his overhanging curl of hair.

“Well, then you’ll have to come back to visit your uncle again sometime,” he said, giving her a wink. “Pool’s open every day ‘til winter. Weather permitting.”

She smiled brightly at him. “Brilliant! ‘M gonna have to take you up on that offer, geezer.”

Geezer! He laughed. This girl sure was spirited, all right, he thought. Much like…her father…

“So,” the other girl spoke up softly as she approached. “You’re really our uncle?”

This girl had a fair complexion, soulful, grey eyes behind large, round frames and a demure manner, quiet and introverted. So much like her mother, he thought.

Rose nodded. “I am,” he said matter-of-factly. “You must be Peonia. And you must be Penstemona. Love the hair, by the way,” he said, noting his nieces’ colourfully dyed hair.

The girl in the glasses giggled.

“You’ve got it the wrong way ‘round,” the other girl laughed. “’Sides, we don’t go by those names. She’s Penny and I’m Nia,” she corrected, putting her hand out. “Pleasure to meet you, Uncle Geezer. Thanks for likin’ the ‘do.”

“You’re welcome. And sorry for that,” Rose chuckled. “Penny. And Nia.” He took Peonia’s hand, giving her a friendly handshake. “And it’s Rose. Uncle Rose, to you,” he said, smiling. “I may have a few decades on you girls, but I haven’t qualified for my geezer card quite yet.” He took a step back to get a good look at his nieces. “You know, the last time I saw you two, you were both in nappies. And look at you now, so grown up. I used to be able to hold each of you in one hand.”

Both girls blushed, struggling to hide their embarrassment thinking about their uncle seeing them as babies.

He sighed, recalling when he first met them as infants so long ago, crying little bundles of mess and spittle. Siblings whom he hoped would love each other through thick and thin. Who wouldn’t compete with one another, wouldn’t harbour feelings of jealousy, anger and resentment. He hoped they would turn out all right.

It seemed, so far, they had turned out just fine.

“Anyway,” Rose laughed, clapping his hands together. “Make yourselves at home.” He gestured toward the door, inviting the girls to go explore the rest of the penthouse. “Sit on the furniture, put on the telly. Whatever you’d like. Just shoes off when you step inside. And please don’t break anything.”

“Can and will do,” Peonia said with a salute, taking off to go give herself the grand tour.

Penny remained behind, looking to Rose meekly, curiously. He cast her a kind smile, wanting her to feel comfortable, to know that she was welcome. She stood there for a moment, her cheeks a bit flush, before suddenly approaching him, arms held out to her sides, taking him in a warm embrace. “It’s nice to meet you, Uncle Rose,” she said before quickly letting go, bowing and heading inside to join her sister.

He froze. For a moment, he felt his eyes grow a bit wetter than usual, his throat a bit dryer. He inhaled deeply. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had given him a hug, the last time there were people who were actually delighted to be in his presence. He blinked away the tears, exhaling, regaining his composure, putting his happy face back on as Petunia finally turned away from the taxi and came near.

“It’s nice to finally see you again, Rose,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “I hope the girls weren’t causing you too much trouble.”

“Nice to see you, too, Petunia, dear.” He kissed her on her cheek, greeting her cordially. “It’s been far too long. You look lovely. And your daughters are absolutely charming.”

She smiled. “Thank you. Hope you’re doing well. We—” She looked over her shoulder, to her husband who was just now getting out of the taxi, having taken a long moment to build the courage to step foot onto his brother’s property, onto the penthouse roof, where he knew he’d eventually have to come face to face with him. She turned back to Rose. “We brought you this,” she said, holding up the apple crumble she had baked for the occasion.

“Oh, my,” Rose replied, staring down at the small, wrapped bowl in her hands, the simple dessert that his sister-in-law took the time to make him, a man so unworthy of any gift or gesture of kindness given what he’d done, how many people he hurt. Unworthy of even a basic baked good, in his mind. It was he who had to give to others, to do what he could to atone for his actions. “You shouldn’t have. Thank you,” he said, turning back to her, unable to fully meet her eyes.  

“I just thought it was a good idea for you to have a little something. You’ve been through a lot.”

Rose exhaled again slowly, stifling any returning tears. He nodded in agreement to her words, though he was looking past her, his gaze fixed on the man standing near the railing, the man watching as the Corviknight Taxi took off, his face unreadable.

Rose’s chest ached. His body felt numb.

He hadn’t seen that face in over ten years…

It really was him…

“Well,” Petunia spoke up. “I think I ought to go bring this into the kitchen, then,” she said, holding up the apple crumble. “Check on the girls.” She stood there for a moment, staring at him as he continued to stare beyond her, transfixed on the man slowly turning toward him, their eyes connecting.

His baby brother…

Peony…

“It’ll be all right,” Petunia said to Rose gently. “You two take your time.”

She stepped away, getting the door for herself, heading inside.

And now they were alone. Just the two of them.

They stood there motionless for a long moment, eyes locked in a stalemate, neither able to make the first move.

For so long, Rose had wished for this very moment, a chance to reconnect, to make things right. But no amount of wishing could have prepared him for when it really happened. When he was standing just across the terrace from him, only a few metres away. All the flowing apologies he’d practised, all the speeches he’d long prepared begging for forgiveness dried up in an instant, his mind going completely blank.

Rose felt a single tear finally manage to roll down his cheek.

This was it. His moment to take the first step toward fixing the relationship, repair what he had broken.

He wiped his eye and took a deep breath, holding out his hand to his younger brother as graciously as possible. Calmly, without emotion, he managed to say two words:

“Hello, Peony.”

~🌹❤🌹~

The first thing he noticed when he stepped out of the taxi, when he finally turned toward that man, towards him, and made eye contact, was just how small he was. Peony knew he was taller than his older brother, but for so long he had been inundated with media portraying him as a titan, untouchably powerful, an imposing presence with all of Galar under his thumb. Nearly a god.

But now, in person, he looked utterly diminished.

His wife concluded her brief exchange with him and got the door, going inside, leaving the two of them alone. To what? Kiss and make up? Have a chit-chat? Pretend the past didn’t happen?

Peony watched as his brother wiped one of his eyes and extended a hand to him, a short greeting, a seeming attempt to start things off peaceably.

He wondered how long that would last.

He took a deep breath, heeding Petunia’s words to him when he was still gathering the nerve to leave the taxi, a reminder to remain calm, to hear him out, to not immediately jump to anger. Easier said than done when he was staring at the man who deprived him of his every achievement, always needing to surpass him, be better, more successful, more accomplished. And now he was standing on the bloody rooftop terrace of that man’s bloody penthouse, his sickening amount of wealth and status on full display.

Well…former status, Peony reminded himself.

He felt the throbbing ache in his chest with each step he took as he approached his older brother as steadily as possible, his face stern, his posture admittedly a bit intimidating. He didn’t want to seem weak, like someone who could be trampled on, have any vulnerability used against him. He wasn’t going to let than man hurt him anymore.

He stopped an arm’s length from that man and looked down upon him, considering his next action. Push past, go inside, get this bloody over with? Punch him right in that pretty face of his, knock out a few of those pearly whites? Get the shouting over with straight away, here and now?

He took note of how much older his brother looked, the greying at his temples, the creases at the corners of his eyes. He hadn’t looked like that in the news footage following his arrest, still giving off that grandiose presence, always charming and charismatic. Eternally youthful and handsome. It seemed the few short months since his fall into utter ruination aged him significantly. Turned him mortal again.

Peony frowned. In addition to looking more aged, more human, there was a look in his brother’s eyes that he had never seen before, something akin to sorrow, despair. Like at any minute, he would break down and start crying. 

Peony felt that his older brother actually looked rather…pathetic…sad…desperate…

He understood that his older brother lost everything. Everything he’d built up, everything he’d done: gone, taken from him in an instant. His job, his friends, his reputation. He was a criminal, under arrest, technically imprisoned—though the living situation didn’t seem like much of a punishment in Peony’s mind. But he was still stuck here, trapped up at the top of this apartment building. All alone.

Peony watched a tear run down his older brother’s cheek.

A sharp sensation stabbed at the back of Peony’s ribcage, worse than that persistent ache in his chest. The corner of his eye started to twitch.

It was clear this man standing across from him had no fight in him, no desire to act arrogant and pompous, to brag and be a complete arsehole. The loss of his sovereignty seemed to have humbled him, broken him, turned him into the shell of a once great entrepreneur.

Peony let out a deep sigh.

Petunia was right.

His older brother was struggling. He did need family to support him. He didn’t invite them over to argue, to continue decades’ worth of squabbles. He just wanted something in his life after losing it all. A relationship with his little brother. To apologise. To make things right. Just like his letter had said.

Peony reluctantly extended his arm, taking his brother’s hand.

“Hi there, Rose.”

~🌹❤🌹~

Well, that was a better response than he had expected.

He thought his brother might push past him, perhaps even punch him, start shouting at him. Things he reckoned he deserved to hear.

But taking his hand, greeting him calmly? Peony was actually being somewhat amiable. Like he was giving him a chance. Like he was willing to try to work things out.

Rose felt something indescribable inside his chest, like his heart had stopped, but was beating rapidly at the same time. His current depression mixed with a newfound sense of relief, of hope. He wondered if the feeling would last.

The handshake was brief, and Peony quickly withdrew, stepping away, toward the row of hanging plants on the terrace, near the geometric fountain. He put a hand in his pocket, his eyes wandering around, no longer able to meet Rose’s. He started to tap his foot. It seemed, despite the good start, Peony was biting his tongue, holding back the things he really wanted to say, wanted to get off his chest, address the Copperajah in the room.

Rose wiped the other tear from his eye and started nervously twisting his curl of hair, unsure of where to take the conversation next, how to continue bridging this gap between them. He wanted to avoid an argument but had come to terms with the fact that one seemed inevitable. He looked down, noticing his younger brother’s scuffed shoes.

“Peony…I—”

“So…” Peony interrupted, his voice a bit too loud, a bit too strong, his tapping foot coming to a halt.

Rose quickly quieted, his brother’s single word drawing his attention.

This was it, he thought. The quarreling was about to begin.

His heart sunk. That brief moment of joy he had felt in his chest vanished completely, dried up and replaced with pure anxiety. He braced himself for whatever his brother was about to say. Or yell.

He exhaled and looked up, ready for the worst.

Peony was looking straight at him, an eyebrow raised, a cheeky grin plastered on his features. He looked oddly curious, in good humour. No scowl. No trace of anger or hostility. “This what you minted blokes call prison, then, eh?” he said with an air of levity, his smile widening, his free hand gesturing broadly. It was clear by his tone, by his expression, he wasn’t making some snide remark about his older brother’s wealth, a malicious jab at his current incarceration, but an awkward joke, an attempt to break the ice, to start a genuine conversation.

Rose’s eyes widened. His brother didn’t want to fight, he realised. Or at least he was making quite the effort not to.

He let go of his curl of hair, letting it bounce back into place, and cast his brother a warm grin of his own.

“Circumstances could be much worse,” he admitted, his eyes wandering about the terrace, scanning the rare and imported greenery, the luxurious furniture and décor, his private landing pad, the extravagant view of the city below. And of course, the pool.

Peony followed his brother’s gaze to the clear, chlorinated water. They both stared at the idle liquid for a moment, mesmerised by the distorted patterns of light refracting and bending to create dazzling shapes.

“You know,” Peony cut in, a bit of mischief in his voice, “Never figured you the swimmin’ type.”

“Oh?” Rose questioned, intrigued. He turned to his brother, who, in turn, looked to him, his smile curled into something rather impish.

“Too much exercise,” Peony explained playfully, his attention fixed on his older brother’s pudgy midsection.

Rose smiled, blushing, and rolled his eyes.

He had never been ashamed of his body, and took no offense to remarks made about it. He had always been a bit chubby since he hit puberty, while Peony had always been more fit, more athletic. The brothers used to harmlessly tease each other when they were younger, before their relationship deteriorated, before they both took on the League Challenge, the outcome of which forever changed their paths in life, forever broke a once solid brotherly bond.

It was nice having his younger brother joke with him like this again, slip so easily into jocular banter after so many years apart. After so much built-up resentment and envy.

“No,” Peony continued in good humour, ignoring his brother’s feigned embarrassment. “No, I reckon you’re more the laze on an inflatable raft sippin’ merlot type…Amirite?”

Rose blinked, utterly shocked by the accuracy of his brother’s assumption. Well…near accuracy...

He sighed and let out a puff of air through his nose. “Rosé,” he corrected pointedly.

Peony suddenly burst out laughing, a hardy guffaw that Rose found to be rather contagious.

He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed so genuinely, smiled so broadly his cheeks began to ache. That feeling in his heart, that joy and hope, returned, filling him with a warmth that permeated his whole body, making him happy, elated. He hadn’t felt like that in a very long time. And it was his baby brother who was making him feel that way.

“Well,” Rose said with a laugh, taking a step toward his younger brother. “It’s pretty much court ordered I lounge around while drinking fine wine,” he explained with a humourous lilt, continuing along his brother’s route of playful dialogue, avoiding the heavy topics, the things that might turn their laughter into shouting. He lifted the leg of his trousers, showing off the ankle monitor he was forced to wear as part of his home confinement. “No exercise in the pool so long as this thing’s attached to me. Water resistant,” he clarified. “Not waterproof.”

Peony’s smile wavered at the sight of the GPS tracker around his brother’s leg, just above the nondescript, leather anklet he always wore. The atmosphere around them suddenly staled.

Rose noticed his brother’s staring, the distant look he now had in his eyes, and lowered his trouser leg. It was clear his younger brother finally seeing the proof of his imprisonment, the end result of his poor decisions, his crimes, awakening Eternatus, bringing about the Darkest Day, causing significant damage and injury, was sinking in, making him understand the reality of Rose’s situation, all the guilt he had to live with.

“You know,” Rose said calmly, his tone shifting, “I told Nia you’re welcome back anytime you’d like. To use the pool.”

Peony made eye contact with his brother, his face serious. “You really think there’ll be a next time?” he asked evenly.

“I’d like there to be,” Rose said in earnest. He reached out and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I never wanted things to get this distant between us, Peony. Be this strained. I’m sorry it’s taken me until now to try and correct it. Besides,” he cast his brother a soft smile, then let out a slight chuckle, “pool wouldn’t get much use otherwise.”

Peony returned the smile, looking to his brother warmly for a long moment, passing him a silent forgiveness, a kindness and a love he hadn’t shown his older brother in so, so many years, before his eyes shifted back to the pool, his face becoming impish again. “Is it heated?” he asked enquiringly.

“Yes, it’s heated,” Rose admitted, his cheeks beginning to hurt again from the smile now decorating his features. He never thought a day like this would happen, a day when he and his brother would joke and laugh and smile. The last time he could recall such high spirits between them was only a faded memory of two boys with their newly caught Cufants discussing the future, the things they would do together, the adventures they’d have. Oh, how the times had changed them both.

Another teardrop slid down his cheek. He was happy. Happy to reconnect. Happy that Peony and his family responded to his letter. Happy that he had family to surround him, family who loved him, who were willing to forgive him for everything he had done.

Suddenly, a loud growling came from his stomach.

“Best we go inside then, eh?” Peony said with a laugh, once more noting his brother’s pudgy gut. “Don’t want that thing gettin’ any angrier, now, do we?”

Rose rolled his eyes once again, his face flushing, as he motioned to the door, letting his baby brother lead the way.

~🌹❤🌹~

He did it. He successfully had a civil conversation with his older brother. He didn’t raise his voice or get heated or punch him or anything. They actually laughed and joked and smiled.

That sharp stabbing pain in his chest subsided, the constant ache melting away. The cracks in his heart seemed to be repairing themselves. All of the anger, the upset, the bitterness, directed at his older brother seemed to have left, replaced with something he couldn’t quite describe, a warmth, an ease, a feeling that made his whole body tingle.

He slipped off his shoes as he entered the penthouse proper, Rose doing likewise beside him. They placed them on the mat near the door next to his family’s shoes. Peony couldn’t help but notice how immaculately polished, how perfect, his brother’s shoes were compared to his, expensive, fashionable and so incredibly…small.

Rose was a very small man, Peony realised. He was aware how he towered over his older brother, but then again, he was quite a tall man himself, so he stood above most people. But his brother’s shoes were nearly the same size as his wife’s. It was strange to think such a petite man once commanded almost an entire region. And that that man was his own brother.

They went down the flight of stairs in socked feet and entered into Rose’s extravagant sitting room. Penny was sitting on the elegant sectional sofa, her uncle’s Perrserker resting in her lap while she watched some drama on the oversized telly.

Peony watched the Pokémon curled up comfortably in his daughter’s lap, purring as Penny stroked her thick fur. He remembered back when he and his brother were young, when they first got the Meowths that would eventually evolve into their Perrserkers. Their neighbour’s Pokémon had lain two eggs and he and Rose begged their mother to let them take them, promising to take care of the Pokémon inside, raise them, train them, give them love and attention, just as they had their Cufants. Finally, she agreed, and he and his older brother hatched two Galarian Meowths, a brother and a sister. Peony took the male, while Rose took the female.

They were difficult to train, and he and Rose worked together at the time to get the unruly Pokémon under control. They’d formulated training strategies and staged mock battles in order to teach the Meowths how to behave and be effective in combat. And after a time, all their hard work paid off. They both had two formidable, highly disciplined Pokémon to add to their growing teams.

That was one of the last memories Peony had of doing something alongside his older brother, of them working together towards an end goal. Of their equal success. Their equal achievement. Before Rose started to surpass him in every way imaginable.

Peony was shaken from his memory when he heard the footsteps of his other daughter, Peonia, as she came running into the room from down a hallway. She seemed not to notice her uncle and father standing at the bottom of the stairs. “This flat’s bloody mahoosive,” she exclaimed to her sister. “It’s like a whole mansion in here.”

“It’s called a penthouse,” Penny corrected, not looking away from the television. “And it’s nowhere near as big as a mansion.”

“Well, whatever it’s called, it’s loads bigger than our house,” Peonia said, climbing onto the back of the sofa to join her sister in watching the telly, her feet on the cushions.

Rose’s smile broadened, accentuating the creases in the corners of his eyes. He didn’t seem at all bothered by his nieces, or more specifically Nia, going through his rooms, likely rummaging through his belongings, hopefully not breaking anything, and sitting on his furniture like she owned the place. In fact, his older brother seemed rather delighted to know the girls were enjoying themselves.

Even though his brother didn’t appear upset, Peony still felt the parental need to correct his daughter’s ill-mannered behaviour.

“Oi!” he snapped. Both teenagers suddenly whipped their heads around, turning to their father, their eyes wide, like a Deerling in the headlights. They were both taken off guard seeing the two men standing right behind them. Their gazes darted between their father and uncle, like they were expecting something explosive to happen, one of those notorious arguments their mother had warned them might occur, an order to get their things, that they were already leaving.

Peony’s gaze, however, was fixed only on Peonia. “Feet on the ground, lassie!” he barked.

His daughters’ faces immediately relaxed. They weren’t going to witness a fight between their father and uncle. He was simply scolding Nia…As usual…

“But Uncle Rose told us to make ourselves at home,” Peonia whined, turning to her uncle for support. “Right, Uncle Rose?”

Rose opened his mouth to say something, to respond, but Peony cut in before he could speak.

“You can’t go sittin’ on the back of the settee at home, now can you?” he said, giving his daughter an authoritative look, his eyes stern. Peonia was always the more difficult daughter, more outwardly rebellious than Penny, willing to talk back, willing to dig her heels in even if she knew there’d be consequences. And sometimes Peony needed to put aside his cool dad persona to get her to listen. “Get down now or we won’t come back to go swimmin’.”

Peonia’s eyes suddenly brightened, her lips curling into a cheeky grin. She plopped down onto the cushions like her father had commanded, sliding herself up next to her sister, elbowing her in the ribs. “Hear that, sis?” she said loudly, making sure her father and uncle heard her. “Dad says we’re comin’ back.”

Peony rolled his eyes. Rose let out a chuckle.

Peony hadn’t intended to admit he was willing to forgive his brother so they could return to use his pool, in turn acknowledging that he was willing to continue giving his brother the benefit of the doubt, willing to repair the relationship, willing to give him a chance to make amends. Sure, he was doing exactly that. But he wasn’t ready to disclose that to the rest of his family. Not yet, anyway.

“Can I get you girls anything?” Rose offered. “Drinks? Or maybe a snack?”

Both sisters looked to each other a moment before Penny turned to her uncle. “We’re fine, thank you,” she said softly.

“All right. But if you need anything, please let me know.” He started to walk towards one of the doorways. “I’m off to the kitchen now to check on the—”

Petunia then entered the room, coming from the direction Rose was headed in.

“Rose?” she said, a hint of concern in her tone.

Peony watched as his brother’s face quickly fell, the rest of his sentence dying on his lips, like he knew exactly what she was about to say given her manner, her tone, like he knew in that moment he had made some grave error, an unforgivable miscalculation. “Yes?” he asked hesitantly.

“You had something in the oven—”

“I burned it, didn’t I?” His eyes suddenly became glassy, watery. He was standing more rigidly than he had only a moment ago.

Petunia gave Rose a gentle smile, an attempt to soften his distress, while at the same time, confirming his fears.

Peony had never known his brother to fail, to muck something up. He was the successful one, after all. Mr Perfect, Mr CEO, Mr Chairman of the League. He built a massive company from the ground up, basically ruled all of Galar, was an untouchable force of nature. Until he wasn’t. And now, for the first time in his life, Peony was witnessing Rose having a setback, making a mistake, failing.

Had it been any other time, before he had gotten that letter in the post, before his wife told him his older brother needed support, needed family, before he saw how broken and sad his brother was, saw that tear slide down his cheek, Peony would have laughed in his face, mocked him for always acting like he was so incredibly flawless when he just burned something in the oven. Not so flawless now, are we? He would have felt utterly superior for knowing he was the better brother when it came to making something as simple as dinner for his family.

But all that anger, all that envy, had fizzled away, and now he just felt sorry for him.

“We could order takeaway,” Peonia chimed in.

Rose nodded, his eyes distant. It was only an insignificant dinner between estranged family, not some large gala event or charity fundraiser he surely had catered before. But simply ruining the small meal was greatly affecting him. Like earlier, he looked ready to cry. “Yes, I suppose that’s best,” he said quietly. “Sorry for ruining dinner everyone. Just thought I could make something for you all.”

“Well, you still can,” Petunia said unexpectedly. Rose looked to her curiously. “You’ve got a fully stocked fridge,” she continued. “You can whip up something, I’m sure.” She turned to her husband when it was clear Rose was hesitant to the suggestion. “Peony can help.”

“Me?” Peony questioned. He was caught off guard hearing his wife suddenly volunteering him to help make dinner. Sure, he was the one who usually made the meals at home, his family assisting him at times, but he and Rose hadn’t done anything together since…

“Of course,” Petunia immediately replied, giving her husband a look, a strong suggestion to go along with what she was saying. She turned back to Rose. “And there’s no need to apologise. We understand.” She approached both men and put a hand on their shoulders, gently nudging them towards the doorway. “You boys head into the kitchen now. It’ll be all right. We’ll just be here watching telly. You get us when you’re done.”

And with that, Peony found himself following his brother out of the extravagant sitting room and into the extravagant kitchen. He was about to make dinner with his older brother. To do something alongside Rose. For the first time in decades.

That warm tingling feeling throughout his body had morphed into the prickly sensation of anxiety.

~🌹❤🌹~

He couldn’t remember the last time he and Peony had done something together, when they worked side by side to achieve a goal. And now he was standing in his not so humble kitchen about to make dinner with his baby brother.

To say he was anxious would be an understatement.

He sighed as he approached his failure of a meal. Petunia had kindly turned off the oven, removed the burned contents and placed it on a trivet on the island countertop. It was obvious right away that he made a few more mistakes than just leaving it in the oven too long.

“What was that supposed to be?” Peony asked, looking over his shoulder, cringing at the foul odour coming from the disastrous meal.

“Shepherd’s pie,” Rose responded bluntly, taking the food to the waste bin.

Peony let out a slight laugh. It was clear his younger brother was getting some entertainment seeing that he had messed up such a simple recipe.

“I was trying to make it the way mum used to,” Rose clarified, putting the skillet in the sink, looking dejected. He had wanted to treat his family, his brother, to something special, something that might restore forgotten memories, create a connection with his younger brother, a chance to reminisce over a familiar meal. A peace offering, one of his ways of saying he was sorry.

Peony’s grin fell away. He looked to his brother for a long moment, like he was thinking, formulating what to do, how to fix his older brother’s mistake. Without a word, he wandered over to the double-door refrigerator and peeked inside, nodding as he scanned each shelf. “Well,” he said finally, closing the fridge and beginning to unbutton his sleeves, rolling them up, “it’ll take a bit, but I think we can remake it.”

Rose’s eyes widened. He thought his brother would just suggest they boil some pasta, microwave something quick. Limit their time interacting with one another to prevent things from getting heated, from the conversation turning volatile.

“That is,” Peony said, giving Rose a smirk, “if that stomach of yours can stand to wait.”

Rose blew a puff of warm air from his nose, appreciating his brother’s jest, as well as his assistance in righting his cooking blunder. He gave Peony a smile of his own, an assent to the plan of remaking their mother’s vegetarian shepherd’s pie, and started removing his cufflinks, rolling up his own sleeves, getting himself prepared to help in whatever way needed while his younger brother took charge.

“I’ll start gatherin’ everything here,” Peony continued, heading toward the sink to wash his hands. He swiveled the faucet to the other side of the sink, away from the skillet and turned on the water. “You go tell Petunia and the girls this may take a while.”

Rose silently nodded and promptly exited the room to return to the lounge.

Only Penny was on the sofa when he entered the sitting room, the Perrserker still on her lap, the television playing some show only teenagers appreciated, his sister-in-law and other niece nowhere in sight.

Penny turned to her uncle.

“Sis wanted to show mum your garden bathtub,” she said right away, predicting his question. “Says it’s, quote, ‘a thumpin’ whopper.’” She imitated her sister’s dialect with an eyeroll.

He smiled, chuckling. “Glad Nia’s enjoying both my pool and my bathtub,” he said, reaching down to scratch his ankle, an irritating itch forming just under the GSP tracker. “Arceus knows I can’t enjoy them with this thing on.” He stood back upright and looked to Penny. “Can you let her and your mother know your father and I will be a while? You can keep watching telly, put on a movie, explore, sit or play with Perrcia there,” he continued, gesturing to his television, the room, the hallway, his Pokémon, emphasising to his niece that she was free to entertain herself in his home however she wished. “And if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Penny nodded, her eyes watching Rose blankly.

“Back off to the kitchen for me, then,” he said, casting her a grin, turning to leave the room.

“You know I can get that off,” she said quickly, suddenly stopping him in his tracks.

He faced his niece questioningly. “What?”

“The ankle monitor,” she said. “I’m good with electronics. I can get it off. That is…” She looked away, her cheeks reddening, her face flushing. “…if you’d like.”

Rose’s smile widened. “Thank you very much for the offer, my dear,” he said thoughtfully. “But your uncle doesn’t want to get in any more trouble than he’s already in.” He understood his niece’s sentiment, though he couldn’t oblige her basically offering to help him commit a crime. It was very endearing nonetheless, though highly illegal.

She nodded, understanding.

When he returned to the kitchen, Peony had already set most of the ingredients out on the counter and was searching through a cupboard for something.

Rose approached the sink and began washing his hands.

“Next one over. On the left,” he said, lathering the soap on his hands.

Peony moved to the cupboard left of the one he was looking in and promptly pulled out a clean skillet as well as a pot for boiling the potatoes.

“Thanks,” he said with a bit of surprise in his voice, like he hadn’t expected to find what he was looking for, for his brother to seemingly read his mind.

Rose turned off the water and dried his hands, looking to his brother for further instruction. He was nervous to start anything without prompting, afraid of making the same mistakes he had made the first time. Besides leaving it in the oven too long, he was unsure what he’d done that produced the abomination he’d scraped into his rubbish bin. Had he measured something wrong? Used the wrong ingredients? Had he even remembered his mother’s recipe correctly at all? His mind raced with where he possibly erred.

His brother approached him with four potatoes in hand, passing them over with a nod. It was clear he was instructing his older brother to slice them up, getting them ready to be boiled.

Rose took the tubers, quickly washed them, then placed them on the cutting board, getting himself a knife. It felt kind of ironic, going from being the wealthiest man in all the region to peeling potatoes under the silent direction of his younger brother.

“Leave the skins on,” Peony told his brother suddenly while he was starting to prepare his own part of the meal, going through the cupboard again and pulling out a couple more smaller pots. “Mum always left the skins on. Healthier that way.”

Rose stopped midway through removing the outer skin on one of the potatoes. Right from the very beginning he had messed up his mother’s recipe, he realised. He hadn’t even sliced the potatoes correctly.

“Thank you, Peony,” he said softly, sincerely, starting to slice the spuds into small, almost evenly sized cubes, keeping the skins attached, his eyes feeling watery again, as though he were cutting onions.

It felt good working alongside his brother, easily communicating through minimal dialogue and wordless gestures, content in each other’s presence, like they’d never been a day apart, like they were still kids, still training their Pokémon together. Still friends.

Peony remained silent, filling one of the smaller pots he’d gotten with water, adding some salt and placing it on the stove to let boil. He measured the amount of lentils needed for the recipe, dumping them into the pot, each of the little legumes plopping in with a splash. He then grabbed another cutting board and knife to start chopping the various vegetables needed for the dish.

“I’ll admit I’ve been struggling a bit to do everything on my own again after all this time,” Rose said, focused on the task before him, trying to make small talk.

For years, he had others take care of his basic household needs, running his errands, cleaning his penthouse, making his food. Duties that were once beneath him because of his elevated privilege. Now, all that privilege was gone. Well, a fair amount, anyway.

“Most of my staff quit on me, you see,” he explained after a moment. “My chef, my housekeeper…” He faded out, bringing the knife down. He didn’t want to come across as though he were bragging. It wasn’t his intention, and the words sounded sour in his mouth. For all this time he had had people there to cater to his every whim, be at his beck and call. Take care of him like he was some kind of royalty. “Now, I’m like a Magikarp stuck on dry land,” he tried to say with a bit more humour, a bit of self-deprecation.

Peony remained silent, like he was listening, processing his brother’s words, but had no response. He continued chopping carrots, celery, spinach, even onions. Though there were no tears in his eyes. His face was unreadable.

Rose hoped his brother wasn’t feeling any resentment towards him. He hoped Peony understood he hadn’t meant to boast.

A moment passed with each of them continuing their work, Peony concentrating on cutting his vegetables, Rose silently readying the larger pot with water and some salt, adding his chopped potatoes and placing the whole thing on the stove, not wanting to commit another faux pas.

Peony looked up suddenly, making eye contact with his brother.

“You take care of that pool all by yourself?” he asked interestedly with an eyebrow raised, like that had been the thought on his mind this whole time.

Rose sighed, entertained by his brother’s query after such a long moment of awkward silence and relieved by the relaxed composure in which he asked it. “No,” he laughed, shaking his head, “I do still have my pool cleaner.”

Peony seemed satisfied, even a bit relieved, by that answer.

It was going to take some time for the food on the stove to boil, so in the meantime, Rose decided to wash the dirty skillet in the sink while waiting for the next step, for his brother’s next instruction. He turned the faucet back over to the other side of the sink.

“Wait!” Peony shouted suddenly, reaching out dramatically just as Rose’s hand hovered over the faucet handle.

Peony rushed over to Rose, resting a hand on his knee, panting like he was out of breath, like he had just finished running a marathon despite only taking a few steps to cross the room.

“No water…” he gasped, placing his other hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Rust…” It took him a moment to relax after almost witnessing Rose ruin the seasoned pan. “Use shortening.”

Rose withdrew his hand from the faucet, his eyes wide. He had no idea simple soap and water wasn’t how to clean the cast iron skillet. He had only known it couldn’t go in the dishwasher. He had nearly made another blunder, another mistake to add to all the things he kept mucking up.

He was grateful his brother was there to correct him.

He found the shortening in the pantry as well as a few spices and herbs Peony said mum always added to her shepherd’s pie. Fennel seeds, cumin, coriander, black pepper, curry powder, fenugreek leaves, garam masala. He had only remembered some of them in his attempt to recreate the dish. And he was certain he had used them incorrectly.

He cleaned the cast iron skillet properly, under his brother’s guidance and then waited near the stove, observing the boiling pots, occasionally stirring the contents inside.

Peony was pulling a strainer out from a cupboard.

“Saw your secretary recently,” he said unprompted, a seeming attempt to try and reignite light conversation.

Rose was taken off guard by the sudden comment, at first not even comprehending his brother’s words.

“My secretary?” he asked, bewildered by his younger brother’s offhand statement. “You mean Oleana?”

Oleana hadn’t been his secretary since he’d stepped down as president of Macro Cosmos, since he resigned as Chairman of the Pokémon League. He had neither seen nor spoken to her since he’d turned himself in to the police, since his arrest. His letter to her, unsurprisingly, given how much he’d wronged her, nearly made her culpable for his crimes, went unanswered. He hadn’t the foggiest idea how his brother could have possibly seen her. Unless it was at one of the press appearances she’d been making around the region in an attempt to save the name of the company after his scandal. But he was sure his brother had no interest in any of that.

“Yup,” Peony confirmed. “Ran into her wanderin’ the old cemetery out by us.”

Now, Rose remained silent, contemplating his brother’s words, a thousand questions running through his mind simultaneously. If she had family buried there, he never told her. In fact, she seemed to have kept most of her personal life a guarded secret, only ever acting professional in his presence, diligently doing her job and never much else. He was fully aware, however, of her not-so-secret desires for him, her romantic attraction. He was certain those feelings died the moment he betrayed her trust, awakened Eternatus, brought destruction to the region.

He was sure Peony knew he no longer had any relationship with her, professional or otherwise. Perhaps this was him trying to get a rise out of his older brother, start a long-awaited row. But something in his tone was off, like he was simply trying to tell his brother a story, not start an argument.

Rose continued to listen, watching as the lentils softened.

“Thought I was you,” his brother continued, going over to the stove, checking the boiling food for himself, seeing if the potatoes and lentils were ready, finished stewing in the water. “She was quite peeved by the mix up. Seemed she was tryin' to see if those silly rumours you’d fled to the Crown Tundra were true. Don’t know why she was lookin’ for you in the cemetery, though…”

Rose could only imagine the anger, the upset, she’d directed at whom she thought was him when she saw Peony. She probably wanted to see him for herself, shout him down to his face, yell at him directly. She was completely justified in doing so. She had no reason to forgive him, no reason not to be peeved at him after everything he’d done, roping her into his scheme to bring about the Darkest Day, nearly ruining her career and reputation in the process.

And he knew that Peony struggled with having to live with people often mistaking him for his much more successful, wealthier, influential brother, building more bitterness each time he looked in the mirror and saw those hints of Rose in the reflection, never seen for his own achievements. Former Champion Steel Peony. Former Steel Type Gym Leader. Husband to a supportive and beautiful wife. Father to two charming and lovely daughters. A successful family man.

No, he had to live his life in the shadow of his much shorter brother, constantly compared to Rose, the CEO, the Chairman.

Former CEO, Rose reminded himself. Former Chairman. With no husband or wife. No children. He thought of that boy, Bede, for only a moment. He thought of Leon. Of Oleana.

Peony turned off the burners and looked to his older brother. “You really ought to reach out to her sometime,” he said, grabbing some potholders. “She’s still completely smitten with you. Loyal to a fault.”

Rose stood there, dumbstruck. “But I thought you said she was peeved to see me?”

Peony laughed, tossing a couple of potholders to Rose, grabbing the pot of lentils and heading towards the sink. “She was peeved to see me,” he clarified, pouring them into the strainer, letting the steaming water rush down the drain. “She couldn’t quit praisin’ you. Said I lack your intelligence and grace. Said we’re nothing alike.” He waved his hand in an exaggerated flourish, imitating Oleana’s poshness while pouring the lentils back into the small pot and heading toward the stove, grabbing the skillet along the way. He didn’t seem the least bit put off recalling her insults, rather performing his playful impression with a toothy grin.

“I did write to her,” Rose admitted, unable to enjoy his brother’s antics with his mind swirling with confusion, wondering if he was interpreting his brother’s words correctly. That Oleana wasn’t cross with him, wasn’t angry at all.

He took the potatoes to the sink, straining them as well, then dumped the puffy slices back into the larger pot. He grabbed the masher and got to work, grinding the potatoes into soft, white fluff. “She didn’t respond. Thought she was done with me.”

Peony cast his brother a smirk. “Certainly wasn’t the impression I got when I saw her. Maybe she’s just been swamped. Or misplaced your letter.”

Rose thought to the time he had done just that, made that very mistake himself. A young boy at one of the children’s hospitals he did charity work for had written him a letter once, hand-delivered it even, asking to see Leon, attend the championship match. He had placed it down on Oleana’s desk and it got buried under paperwork, accidentally forgotten. He was shocked when the letter was found with only a few days to spare.

It was luck that made the boy realise his dream, attend the match and meet Leon, get his wish to see his hero in a Pokémon battle. Rose had been devastated when he discovered he had nearly broken the child’s heart, nearly caused him to miss the event. Almost another one of his victims, almost a part of the long list of people he had let down, people he had failed.

Maybe Peony was right. Maybe he ought to write Oleana again. Maybe his first letter just wasn’t received, undelivered, lost or misplaced. If his brother was being honest, if she’d really gone out of her way to fly to the Crown Tundra to search for him, if she clearly had desires to meet him, to speak with him, maybe there was a chance she could even forgive him.

Maybe…

“Have you got that butter mum always used?” Peony asked, readying his chopped onions and other ingredients. “What’s it called?”

“Ghee,” Rose answered, taking a break from his mashing, interrupting his thoughts, to retrieve the clarified butter from the pantry. He handed it to his brother who drizzled some onto the pan and began sautéing the onions.

“Thanks,” Peony said as Rose returned to his mashed potatoes. “Remember to add in bit of that butter and some yoghurt. And curry powder. Mum’s mash was always rather creamy with a bit of tang.”

Rose added a bit of milk to the mixture as well, again following his brother’s guidance in finalising the mashed potatoes. A bit of salt and pepper to make it perfect. And done. Just the way mum made it.

All thanks to Peony’s help.

His younger brother added the rest of the vegetables to the sautéed onions in the skillet, mixing in all sorts of spices and herbs. The aroma filling the room was absolutely mesmerising, a rich, spicy sting tickling their nostrils. Rose could remember two boys running through a tiny kitchen, chasing misbehaving Meowths, their mother hard at work preparing dinner, that same intoxicating smell permeating the walls of their small cottage.

His stomach let out another embarrassing moan.

“Halfway there, big bro,” Peony said laughing, adding some vegetable broth to the stew. He then put a lid over the whole thing and allowed it to sit and simmer.

“Halfway?” Rose exclaimed, his eyebrows raised in astonishment.

“And we’ve still got the sauce to make,” his brother said, grabbing the other small pot he’d gotten from the cupboard earlier. “It’ll need some flour,” he said, measuring out several spoonfuls of ghee.

Rose once again went into his pantry to retrieve the flour. He measured the proper amount his brother instructed, helping add it to the blend of cumin and fennel seeds swirling in the boiling butter while Peony returned once again to his vegetables.

Both brothers stood side by side at the stove, Peony guiding Rose in how much broth to put in the sauce, Rose pouring his finished mixture over Peony’s vegetables, the two of them working completely in tandem, like there was never a rift between them, never hostility, never animosity.

Rose added frozen peas into the skillet, Peony finally pouring in the waiting lentils. All that was left was to dollop on the mashed potatoes, smooth them out and bake.

Rose set the timer for twenty minutes as his brother slipped the pan into the oven. They were in the final stretch of remaking dinner. The room smelled superb, worlds better than when he’d made that abysmal attempt by himself. It was amazing how Peony could recall their mother’s recipe with ease, like it was something he made for his family often, had it memorised by heart.

Rose wondered if making his mother’s shepherd’s pie gave his younger brother the same memories as it gave him. If he recalled their youth, when things were good. When they were still close.

They began cleaning up while the shepherd’s pie was baking.

“Pen-pen got accepted into a private school abroad,” Peony said after a while, loading the dishwasher with the various pots and utensils they’d used during their prep work. Metal spoons, the whisk, the potato masher. “The Pokémon Academy out in Paldea.”

“That’s wonderful,” Rose said, excited for his niece. This was the first time all evening his brother was opening up to him, talking about his personal life, about his family. Though, he seemed more tense than joyful talking about his daughter’s accomplishment. Rose tried to remain encouraging, sincerely thrilled by the news. He grabbed as much as he could to return things to the pantry, calling to his brother from the small, connected room. “And by Pen-pen you mean—”

“Penstemona,” his younger brother replied tersely.

Rose could imagine his niece attending a prestigious school in another region, receiving an advanced education, gaining all the skills she’d need to be successful in the future. He had given a lecture at that very academy in Paldea a few years back, and it was a beautiful campus with extraordinarily skilled instructors. Penny would receive the best education, and she could hone her skills with electronics into something productive. He couldn’t tell why his brother seemed so reserved about the subject.

Unless…

Rose exited the pantry and looked to his brother, casting him an understanding grin. “If you need any financial assistance, I—”

“No,” Peony cut him off. He looked away, shutting the dishwasher. “It’s not that. It’s just…”

Rose grabbed more things off the counter, observing his brother’s sudden shift in behaviour, the upbeat attitude he’d surprisingly expressed throughout most of his visit morphing into a kind of sadness, a fear, like how Rose felt the moment he encountered Peony out on the terrace. There was worry, apprehension, on his brother’s face.

“Nia’s not gettin’ the same opportunity,” his younger brother continued, moving to the sink to clean what couldn’t be put in the dishwasher. “She’s gotta stay behind and continue with high school here. Pen-pen’ll be out there, makin’ new friends, receivin’ all these grand opportunities. She’ll get to be out in the world doin’ great things. Become a success.” He paused, midway through putting on a latex dishwashing glove. “I…I don’t want Peonia gettin’ jealous of her sis.” He turned to Rose. “I don’t want my daughters to turn out like us.”

Rose looked at his baby brother for a long moment.

“Peony,” he said slowly, his younger brother’s eyes locked on his, “I love you. And I never wanted things to turn out the way they did between us…” He absently placed the assorted pantry goods back on the counter, stepping around the island to stand closer to his younger brother. He put a hand in his pocket.

“When I was given the opportunity to take the position of League Chairman,” he continued, “I honestly thought it would be my chance to work together with my younger brother. For us to be side by side. The Champion and the Chairman. But I never once realised how I was actually treating you. That I was being an arrogant snob, acting superior, completely unapproachable. I was put in a position of authority over you, and I never once stopped to reflect on how my authority affected you. How I stripped you of your success, your chance to shine in the spotlight…And for all that, I’m sorry…”

Rose shifted his posture, letting his apology flow organically…sincerely…from his heart.

“I never wanted our lives to become some kind of contest. A battle where one triumphs over the other. But my behaviour, my attitude—I know—gave off a very different impression. And I’m truly, truly sorry for everything I’ve done to hurt you…I’m sorry for taking away your victories, not letting you celebrate your many amazing achievements…I’m sorry for being an absolute prick to you for all these years…I’m so, so sorry, baby brother.”

Rose watched as a tear slid down Peony’s cheek.

“You’re an amazing man with so many wonderful accomplishments,” Rose went on, growing more impassioned. “You were the bloody Champion, for Arceus’ sake. You’re an amazing Pokémon trainer. You were even a Gym Leader. You’re Steel Peony. And on top of that, you’re a brilliant husband and father. You have a very beautiful family, and your daughters’ll be successful no matter where their paths in life take them. Whether they go to some fancy school abroad or not. I think it’s important to just keep letting them know that. That they’re both incredible. And you should be very proud of them. And very proud of yourself.”

Peony looked away, nodding silently, absorbing his older brother’s words. Rose felt a tear run down his own cheek, catching in his moustache.

He hoped he had said the right thing, something helpful, something coherent. The words just sort of spilled out when he saw that look on Peony’s face, that deep concern for his daughters’ futures, that fear that one day their sisterly bond would break.

“Rose,” Peony said after a moment, turning to his brother, wiping his eyes with his thumb, his voice calm, uncharacteristically quiet, “I love you, too, big bro. And I’m sorry for bein’ jealous of you for all these years. For not listenin’ when you tried to explain yourself in the past. For bein’ a bit of an arsehole to you all this time. ‘M sorry it’s taken me ‘til now to finally forgive you.”

Rose cast his brother a warm smile which Peony returned. They stood there, frozen, neither one knowing who should make the first move, who should hold his arms open for the other to embrace.

Right as Rose removed his hand from his pocket, as Peony tossed aside the dishwashing gloves, both about to reach out to give each other an inevitable hug, the kitchen timer suddenly started to chime.

~🌹❤🌹~

The shepherd’s pie came out perfectly.

They all gathered in the dining room, anxious to enjoy the meal, the long-awaited dinner finally ready. The conversation remained light and positive as they ate. He shared a few of the stories of his Adven-tours out in the Crown Tundra, telling his older brother about his search for legendary Pokémon. Rose seemed genuinely fascinated, encouraging him to tell more, to hear about his brother’s life, wanting to catch up on so many years apart.

Peonia spent most of the time badgering her uncle with questions about his extravagant lifestyle, what he did with all his dosh. How many yachts he had? None. Private jets? None. Holiday homes? None.

Rose looked humoured by his niece’s queries into his lavish existence, seeming to grow more entertained as her face fell each time he disappointed her with his answer. Despite his brother’s extreme wealth, it didn’t appear he lived in upsettingly obscene excess. Only a bit of obscene excess, Peony clearly observed. Though, there was a strange humbleness to it all, despite appearances.

Rose retrieved Petunia’s apple crumble from the fridge for dessert, doling messy spoonfuls onto plates for his family to enjoy. Peony, like always, was utterly amazed by his wife’s cooking, and, of course, told her as much.

The night went on in high spirits, laughing and joking continuing well past dessert. They all shared a cuppa before the night’s end, relaxing and reminiscing about days gone by.

It almost felt too soon when the Corviknight Taxi arrived to take them home.

His daughters said their farewells to their uncle, Peonia assuring him she’d be back to use that pool, Penny softly saying goodbye and giving him a small hug. Petunia kissed Rose on the cheek and thanked him for the lovely night, for inviting them over, for reaching out after so long, entering the taxi behind her daughters, a container of leftovers in hand.

Now only he remained, facing his older brother, both of them standing there, each with a hand in their pocket. Rose was twisting his curl of hair.

“I really want to thank you, Peony,” his older brother began. “For answering my letter.”

“Took a bit of convincin’, to be honest,” Peony admitted, grinning. “But, you know…’M glad I did.”

Rose smiled back. “And I want to thank you again for helping with dinner. I really couldn’t have done it without you.”

“It was Petunia’s idea.” Peony gestured with his thumb toward the taxi, glancing at his wife talking to the girls inside.

“Well then,” Rose chuckled, “thank her for giving us that little nudge we needed.” He let his curl of hair bounce back into place. “It was nice having you over, your wife, the girls. I feel like I have a family again. That I’m not alone. That I have my baby brother back in my life. I hope we can continue to have things be this way.”

Peony gave his older brother a nod. “I’d like that, too.”

“And I’ll expect you back to use the pool,” Rose said playfully.

“Of course,” Peony assured. “We’ll probably be spendin’ the whole summer holiday here.”

“Good thing I’m not going anywhere,” his older brother laughed, alluding to his current legal confinement. “I really do hope to see you again soon.”

“You will. I promise. We’ll keep in contact.”

Peony watched his brother wipe another tear from his eye. Saying goodbye was hard after reconnecting with one another, co-operating after years of quarreling, apologising and forgiving decades of misunderstandings. Even his own eyes felt like they were growing wetter.

Almost simultaneously, they removed their hands from their pockets and approached one another, embracing.

Peony felt his brother sob against his shoulder. “I love you, Peony,” he said softly.

“I love you, too, Rose.”

The hug only lasted a moment. Rose wiped his eyes as they separated, taking a step back to clear the landing. Peony entered the taxi to join his wife and daughters.

He looked out the small window, watching his older brother wave to them as the Corviknight began its ascent, his daughters waving back until their uncle was only a speck.

“So,” Petunia said, resting her hand atop her husband's, “did everything work out all right tonight?”

It was Petunia who had persuaded him to send that message to his brother, those two short sentences that paved the way to him finally forgiving Rose, for dissolving all that anger he harboured in his heart. It was her idea to remake dinner, for him to help his older brother, to put aside the past and work together. She had encouraged him at every moment, told him to stay calm, to listen and not jump headfirst into arguing. She had helped make restoring his relationship with Rose a reality.

He turned his hand around, lacing his fingers with hers. She smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Yup,” Peony stated, closing his eyes. “It worked out just like you said.”

The End