Chapter Text
Three days after the training session, Ash Ketchum found himself thinking about Leon.
It wasn't something he had planned. Ash wasn't one to plan his thoughts; thoughts simply came to him, like ideas for new Pokémon moves or cravings for malasadas at three in the afternoon. But this was different. He was in the middle of a meeting with Professor Kukui, reviewing the details of his upcoming public appearance as Alola's Champion, when his mind drifted without warning toward the training field at Rose Stadium, toward the mid-morning sun, toward an imposing Charizard, and a purple-caped Champion who had told him that he fought with his heart.
"Ash?" Kukui's voice pulled him back to reality. "Are you listening?"
"Yeah, of course," Ash lied, straightening up in his chair. "I was... processing."
Kukui looked at him over the top of his sunglasses with that "I've known you since you came to Alola and I know exactly when you're lying" look that he had mastered so well.
"Processing," he repeated.
"Information. A lot of information."
"I asked if you wanted coffee."
"Ah." Ash blinked. "Then... yes?"
Kukui sighed, but he couldn't hide a smile. That was Ash: he could be in a serious meeting with official documents and event schedules, and suddenly his mind would wander somewhere else, to some place where there were probably wild Pokémon that needed help or friends who required his attention. Or, in this case, something completely different that Kukui hadn't identified yet, but was beginning to suspect.
"Everything alright?" the professor asked, pouring two cups of coffee. "You've been a bit... distracted lately."
Ash accepted the cup and took a sip before answering. The coffee was too hot and he burned his tongue slightly, but he didn't say anything.
"It's just that I met someone," he said.
Kukui raised an eyebrow.
"Someone?"
"A trainer. Well, a Champion. Leon, from Galar. We had a photoshoot a few days ago and then we trained together. It was incredible. He has an amazing Charizard and a super-fast Dragapult and..." Ash stopped, realizing he was talking too fast again. "And he's a good person. I think."
"Leon," Kukui repeated, a note of recognition in his voice. "The undefeated Champion of Galar?"
"Yeah. Do you know him?"
"By reputation. He's quite famous on the international circuit. He has a reputation for being unbeatable."
"Well, we tied," Ash said, unable to hide a hint of pride in his voice.
Kukui watched him for a moment. There was something in the way Ash spoke about this Leon—something that went beyond professional admiration or the excitement of having met an equal. Something that Kukui, as both a professor and a friend, decided to file away for later.
"I'm glad you're making connections," he said. "It's important for a Champion to have allies in other regions."
"Yeah, allies," Ash repeated, the word sounding strange in his mouth. Allies. Colleagues. Friends. Something.
The rest of the meeting went by without further distractions, but as Ash left Kukui's house and started his walk back home, with Pikachu trotting at his side, the thought returned.
I'd like to train with Leon again.
It was a simple thought. Harmless. The kind of thing any trainer would think after a good battle. Ash let it float in his mind without overthinking it, and by the time he reached home, he had already decided he would text him. Just like that. Why not? They had each other's numbers. The campaign coordinator had told them to keep in touch. It was normal.
He lay down on the sofa, with Pikachu curled up on his lap, and pulled out his phone.
Are you busy tomorrow?
He sent it without a second thought. Without checking his spelling, without asking himself if it was too direct, without considering whether a Champion should be more formal when addressing another. That was just how Ash was. Things were simple: if he wanted to see someone, he told them. If he felt like training, he asked. There were no ulterior motives, no hidden strategies.
The reply came in less than a minute.
No. Why?
Ash smiled. Pikachu raised an ear.
"I texted Leon," Ash explained, as if Pikachu needed the clarification.
"Pika."
"Yeah, the one from Galar. The one with Charizard."
"Pika-pika."
"No, it's not just because of Charizard. It's because of him, too. He's fun."
Pikachu tilted his head, but didn't comment further. Ash looked back at his phone and typed another reply.
It's just that Pikachu wants to see Charizard again.
Send.
Pause.
Well, I want to see you too. I mean, train. Train with you.
Send.
I don't know if you have time.
Send.
"Do you think that was too many texts?" he asked Pikachu."
Pika."
"You're right. I'm sure he won't mind."
In Wyndon, several thousand kilometers away and in a completely different time zone, Leon received the messages while in the middle of an interview for local television.
The phone vibrated in his pocket.
He ignored it. He was a professional. He was live on air.
It vibrated again.
He continued to ignore it, though his hand moved instinctively toward his pocket.
"Leon?" the interviewer, a blonde woman with a perfectly rehearsed smile, looked at him with curiosity. "Is everything alright?"
"Perfectly," Leon said. "Go on."
The phone vibrated a third time.
"Do you want to check that? It seems important."
"It's nothing," Leon assured her, though inside he was dying of curiosity. "I'm sure it's... spam. Or the League. Or something."
The interview lasted fifteen minutes more. Fifteen minutes that Leon spent answering questions about his career, his upcoming battles, and his thoughts on the World Coronation Series, while his mind drifted far away from there, toward the plastic and glass rectangle throbbing in his pocket like a tiny heart.
When it finally ended, he excused himself to go to the bathroom and pulled out his phone with slightly trembling fingers.
Three messages. Sender: Ash Ketchum.
Are you busy tomorrow?
It's just that Pikachu wants to see Charizard again.
Well, I want to see you too. I mean, train. Train with you.
I don't know if you have time.
Leon read the messages. He re-read them. He read them a third time, as if the words might change meaning if he looked at them long enough.
"Pikachu wants to see Charizard again."
Okay. That was logical. Pokémon made friends too. Charizard and Pikachu had connected during training in their own quiet way, full of knowing looks. It made sense that they would want to meet up again.
"Well, I want to see you too."
Leon stared at that sentence for a considerable amount of time.
I want to see you too.
Not "train with you." He had added that afterward, like a hasty correction. First he had written "I want to see you too," just like that, without filters, without the layer of professionalism that normally wrapped all interactions between champions.
I want to see you too.
"Oh," Leon said softly, in the studio bathroom, with the hum of the fluorescent lights as his only company. "Oh, no."
Because his heart had just skipped a beat so violently that he was sure it could be heard from outside the bathroom. And because a huge, ridiculous smile, completely inappropriate for someone who had just finished a serious interview, was spreading across his face without him being able to do anything to stop it.
He looked at himself in the mirror.
"It's a normal message," he told his reflection. "He just wants to train. He mentioned Charizard. And Pikachu. It's a Pokémon meetup."
His reflection looked back at him skeptically.
"The 'I want to see you too' part is just a figure of speech. People say that. It's normal."
His reflection didn't look convinced.
"It doesn't mean anything."
Silence.
"Okay, it means something, but probably not what I think it means."
More silence.
"Or maybe it does. It could be. I don't know. I'm no expert in text messages."
He typed a response, trying to maintain a casual tone that in no way reflected the chaos reigning inside him.
I'm free tomorrow. Do you want to train again? Or would you prefer to do something else?
Send.
Ash's reply came almost immediately.
I found a restaurant that serves Alolan food in Wyndon. Do you want to go?
Leon blinked.
A restaurant.
Ash was asking him if he wanted to go to a restaurant.
With him.
To eat.
Together.
"It's a date," he said out loud, and then covered his mouth, horrified, because he was still in the studio bathroom and the walls were thin.
"Leon?" the interviewer's voice came from the hallway. "Are you alright in there?"
"Perfectly!" Leon yelled, his voice a pitch too high. "Just... hydrating!"
"In the bathroom."
"Yes!"
There was a pause.
"Well, when you're done, the production team wants to speak with you."
"Right away!"
He waited for the footsteps to fade away and then looked back at his phone. Ash's message was still there, innocent, bright, completely oblivious to the state of mental collapse it had caused.
Sure. Where and what time?
Send.
Tomorrow at twelve. It's called "Tapu Cuisine." It's near the harbor. I'll send you the address.
Perfect.
Awesome! See you there :)
Another emoticon. Another smiley face. Leon slipped the phone into his pocket, took three deep breaths, and stepped out of the bathroom with the expression of a man who had just received a death sentence and the greatest gift of his life, all at the same time.
"It's not a date."
Charizard huffed from the sofa.
"It's not. It's a hang-out between colleagues. Two Champions going out for food. That isn't a date."
Charizard raised a claw and started keeping tally on its fingers.
"Char. Char-char. Charizard."
"What are you doing?"
"Char."
"Are you counting the number of times I've checked the restaurant's address on the map?"
Charizard nodded slowly.
"That doesn't prove anything. It's a new place. I wanted to know where it was."
"Charizard."
"I looked at the reviews out of curiosity. Not for... other reasons."
Charizard raised another claw.
"Alright, I looked at the photos too. But only to see if the food looked good."
"Char-char."
"And I reserved a table. So what? It's a popular restaurant. I wouldn't want us to end up without a spot."
Charizard stopped counting and looked at him with an expression that blended exasperation, tenderness, and a touch of ancient resignation. It was the same expression it had worn during the photoshoot, during training, and basically every time Leon did anything related to Ash Ketchum.
"It's not a date," Leon repeated for the fifth time in the past hour, examining his wardrobe with an intensity normally reserved for championship finals.
He pulled out a shirt. Looked at it. Put it back.
Pulled out another. Too formal.
Another. Too casual.
Another. Was that the right color? Did it convey "casual hang-out between colleagues" or "I've spent forty-five minutes choosing clothes because this is extremely important to me"?
"What do you think?" he asked Charizard, holding up two t-shirts, one black and one blue. "Which one says 'I'm a professional Champion, but also a normal person who isn't overanalyzing every detail of this meeting'?"
Charizard pointed a claw toward the blue t-shirt.
"This one?"
Charizard shook its head and pointed again.
"The black one?"
Charizard shook its head once more. Then it pointed toward the entire wardrobe and back at Leon, in a gesture that clearly meant "it doesn't matter what you wear, you're going to make a fool of yourself anyway."
"Thanks for the support," Leon muttered, finally opting for a maroon t-shirt he hadn't worn in months and dark jeans. "You're a great friend. Unconditional support."
Charizard yawned.
Leon went to bed early, but didn't sleep well. He dreamed of a restaurant floating over the sea, with tables served by Pikachu waiters and a menu written in a language he couldn't understand. Ash was there, across the table, smiling, and whenever Leon tried to say something interesting, only random words came out of his mouth: "Charcuterie," "Pikachu is yellow," "Your eyes are like... eyes." He woke up at four in the morning, drenched in sweat, with Charizard snoring on the sofa and the feeling that the day ahead was going to be very, very long.
The restaurant was tucked away in a narrow alley near the Wyndon harbor, far from the tourist routes and large storefronts that characterized the city center. It was a small place with a brightly painted facade—yellow, orange, turquoise—and a carved wooden sign depicting the four guardian deities of Alola. A sweet, spicy aroma wafted from the kitchen, blending with the sea breeze, and through the windows, rustic wooden tables decorated with tropical flowers could be seen.
Leon arrived ten minutes before the agreed time. Because he always arrived early. Because he was a professional. Not because he was nervous.
"It's a restaurant," he told himself, stopping in front of the door. "I've been to hundreds of restaurants. This is no different."
But it was different. Because inside that restaurant, at some point in the next few minutes, Ash Ketchum was going to appear. And Leon was going to have to act like a functional human being for an entire meal, without saying anything about the color of Pikachus, without spilling water on himself, without staring at him like a complete idiot.
"I can do this," he muttered.
"Leon?"
He spun around so fast he nearly popped his shoulder out.
Ash was there, less than two meters away, with Pikachu on his shoulder and a smile from ear to ear. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt patterned with palm trees and flowers—something that would have looked ridiculous on anyone else, but was strangely charming on him—and a pair of beige shorts. He smelled of sunscreen and that tropical scent Leon now irrevocably associated with him.
"You're early," Ash said, stepping closer.
"So are you."
"Well, I found this place a couple of days ago and I was dying to show it to you. I've been looking for Alolan food in Galar for weeks. I miss malasadas. And poi. And fresh fish. Have you ever tried poi?"
"No," Leon admitted.
"Really? You're gonna love it! Well, if you like sweet things. It's like a taro puree, but with coconut. Sounds weird, but it's super good. And the malasadas... ugh, I don't know if they make them right here, but if they do them like in Alola, you're gonna get addicted."
Leon listened to him talk as they went inside the restaurant, realizing that Ash was just like that: when he was excited about something, he talked non-stop, jumping from one topic to another, gesturing with his hands, and checking in with Pikachu as if the little Pokémon were his co-host. It wasn't chaotic, exactly. It was... alive. Full of energy. As if the world seemed far too interesting for him to keep his thoughts to himself.
The interior of the restaurant was as colorful as the facade. Flower garlands hung from the ceiling, the tables were covered in patterned cloth tablecloths, and in one corner, a huge aquarium housed several aquatic Pokémon Leon didn't recognize. An older woman with tanned skin and gray hair tied in a bun emerged from the kitchen and greeted them with a warm smile.
"Welcome!" she said, with a distinct Alolan accent. "Table for two?"
"Yes," Ash replied. "I have a reservation. Under Ketchum."
"Ah, the Champion." The woman's smile broadened. "An honor. Right this way, please."
Leon followed Ash to a table by the window. They sat across from each other. Pikachu jumped to the floor and settled onto an empty chair, while Charizard (whom Leon had released from his Poké Ball the moment they walked in, since the restaurant had a Pokémon-friendly policy) settled on the floor beside the table, taking up roughly the same space as a small car.
"This place is awesome," Ash said, looking around with bright eyes. "It reminds me of the restaurants in Hau'oli. There's one called 'The Gentle Fork' near the harbor that makes the best seafood on the whole island. Well, the best seafood after what Professor Kukui makes. Though the professor doesn't really cook; he usually orders takeout. But once he tried to make curry and almost set the lab on fire."
"Almost set it on fire?" Leon repeated.
"Yeah, it was a Magmar's fault. Or a Magby. I don't remember. Point is, we had to evacuate."
"That sounds... dangerous."
"It was a Tuesday. Tuesdays in Alola are always a little weird." Ash shrugged, as if that explained everything.
The waitress came over to take their drink order. Ash asked for a pinia juice—"it's an Alolan fruit, you gotta try it"—and Leon, who had no idea what a pinia was, nodded and said he'd have the same.
"Have you ever been to Alola?" Ash asked when the waitress left.
"No," Leon admitted. "I've always wanted to go, but I've never found the time. What with Champion duties and all that..."
"You should come. It's great. There are amazing beaches, the wild Pokémon are super friendly, and the weather is perfect all year round. Well, almost all year. Sometimes there are storms. But they're pretty storms, with lightning that lights up the whole sky. And then the rainbows come out."
Leon listened to him describe Alola over the next ten minutes while their drinks arrived and Ash took sips of his pinia juice between sentences. He talked about the Tapus, Ultra Wormholes, the Melemele Pokémon School, his friends, and his family in Pallet Town. He talked about Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, Unova, and Kalos. He talked about every place he had visited and every Pokémon he had met, doing so with a passion so genuine, so free of pretense, that Leon found himself completely absorbed.
It was fascinating. Not just what he said, but how he said it. Ash didn't tell his stories to impress; he told them because he loved them, because every adventure, every battle, every friendship was an important part of who he was. And by sharing them, he was inviting Leon to be a part of that world.
"...and then Pikachu climbed on top of Gyarados, and Gyarados wasn't very happy, so it started spinning, and Misty was yelling 'get down from there!' but Pikachu wouldn't get down, and I tried to climb up too because I wasn't gonna leave my partner alone, and..."
"Wait," Leon interrupted, a smile growing wider on his face throughout the meal. "You tried to climb onto an enraged Gyarados?"
"Well, it wasn't that enraged."
"It was a Gyarados."
"Yeah, but it was my Gyarados. Well, it wasn't mine yet. I caught it later. But at the time it was like... a friendly Gyarados. More or less."
Leon burst out laughing. It was a genuine, deep laugh, the kind that came from the stomach and made his abs ache. He hadn't laughed like that in a long time. In Galar, everyone treated him with deference, with respect, with that cautious distance reserved for celebrities. Ash treated him like a normal person. Like a friend.
"You're incredible," Leon said before he could stop himself.
Ash blinked.
"I am?"
"Yes. I mean..." Leon cleared his throat, aware that he had just said something he hadn't planned to. "The stories. The journeys. Everything you've done. It's incredible."
"Oh." Ash smiled, and this time there was something different about his smile. Something softer. "Thanks. But you must have awesome stories too. You're the undefeated Champion of Galar. You don't get that without going on a ton of adventures."
"I suppose."
"You suppose? I bet you have thousands. Tell me one."
And Leon, for the first time in a long time, relaxed.
It wasn't a sudden or dramatic change. It was gradual, like the spring thaw. He began to talk about his childhood in Postwick, how he had met Charmander, the first battles he had lost, and the ones he had won. He told him about Sonia, his childhood friend, and how they were always getting into trouble together. He talked about the pressure of being Champion, the expectations, the times he had felt he wasn't up to the task. And as he spoke, something in his posture shifted. His shoulders, usually held straight in a practiced pose, loosened. His expression, often controlled, became more open. His smile, usually professional and measured, broadened into a toothy grin.
It was Leon. The real Leon. The one who existed beneath the cape, the gloves, and the title of undefeated Champion.
Ash watched him closely as he spoke, and something stirred in his chest. It wasn't love—not yet, at least not consciously—but it was something. A recognition. A spark. The feeling of seeing something few people had the privilege to see.
"I like this Leon," he said softly, almost to himself.
Leon stopped mid-sentence about a battle against a wild Corviknight.
"This Leon?"
"Yeah." Ash smiled. "The one who laughs, who tells stories, who isn't posing for the cameras. I like this one."
Leon froze. Completely still. Entirely too still.
I like this Leon.
The sentence echoed in his head. This Leon. Did that mean there were other Leons? A Leon he didn't like? The Champion Leon, the professional Leon, the photoshoot Leon? Did he not like that one? Did he like this one, the relaxed one, the one who forgot to be Champion for a little while? And did "I like" mean "I like"? Or was it a generic "I like," the way someone might say "I like strawberry ice cream"?
"Leon?"
"Yes?"
"You froze."
"No. I'm fine. Perfectly fine. Great." Leon blinked several times in a row. "I was just... processing. The food. It's really good. That poi stuff. Very tasty. Very... poi-like."
Ash raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Pikachu, from his chair, emitted a soft "Pika" that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. Under the table, Charizard sighed so heavily that the tablecloths on neighboring tables fluttered.
"Well," Ash said, breaking the silence. "So what happened with the Corviknight?"
"Uh... I caught it."
"Really? Awesome! I didn't know you had a Corviknight."
"Yeah. Well, no. I mean, I have it, but... what were we saying?"
"The Corviknight."
"Ah, right. The Corviknight."
Leon spent the rest of the meal in a state of functional semi-consciousness. He kept talking, kept eating, kept interacting, but a part of his brain was trapped in an infinite loop, repeating the same four words over and over again:
I like this Leon.
How many Leons were there? Two? Three? An uncountable number, like the stars in the sky? Was there a Leon he liked and another he didn't? The morning Leon, the afternoon Leon, the photoshoot Leon, the battle Leon? Which one was "this" one? The one sitting right here, mouth full of poi and brain completely fried?
"...and then Pikachu zapped the whole gym. It was epic."
"Epic," Leon repeated, having not heard a single word.
"Leon?"
"Yes?"
"I'm telling you about the time I almost destroyed an entire gym and you're telling me 'epic' like I'm talking about the weather."
"I'm sorry. It's just..." Leon ran a hand through his hair. "I'm a little distracted."
"Because of the Corviknight?"
"Yeah. Exactly. The Corviknight. It has me worried."
"Is it sick?"
"No, it's fine. Just... Corviknight. You know."
Ash didn't know. It was obvious he didn't know. But instead of pressing, he simply smiled—he was always smiling—and took another sip of his pinia juice.
"We can talk about it whenever you want," he said. "Sometimes talking helps."
Leon nodded weakly. Talking. Sure. How do you talk about something like that? "Hey Ash, I'm a little distracted because you said you like 'this Leon' and I've spent the last ten minutes trying to figure out what that means, and whether I should change things about myself to be more 'this' one and less 'that other' one you probably don't like as much."
No. Definitely not.
The meal wrapped up shortly after. Ash paid the bill—he insisted, saying he had invited Leon and wanted to support the restaurant since it was the only Alolan place in the city—and they walked out together into the street, where the afternoon sun was beginning to paint the sky in shades of orange.
"Thanks for coming," Ash said as Pikachu climbed back onto his shoulder. "I had a great time."
"Me too," Leon said. And this time it wasn't a rehearsed line. It was true.
"See? This Leon. The one who laughs and tells the truth. I like him."
And he left. With his Hawaiian shirt, his Pikachu on his shoulder, and that light step Leon could already recognize anywhere.
Leon stood at the restaurant doorway, watching his silhouette fade down the harbor alley. Charizard came out of its Poké Ball unprompted—again—and stood beside him, looking in the same direction.
"He said 'I like,'" Leon muttered. "Again. Twice. In one meal."
"Char."
"Do you think it's a sign?"
Charizard looked at him with that "I've been telling you for years" expression that was its specialty.
"But he didn't say 'I like you.' He said 'I like this Leon.' That's different."
"Charizard."
"It is. It's an important distinction. 'I like you' implies a personal interest. 'I like this Leon' could refer to... a specific version of me. A concrete iteration of my personality. An aspect of my character that is pleasant in a social context. Not necessarily..."
Charizard nudged his head gently with the tip of its tail. Soft, but firm enough to interrupt the monologue.
"You're right," Leon admitted, rubbing his head. "I'm overthinking it."
Charizard nodded.
"I just can't help it."
Charizard nodded again, this time more emphatically.
"I'm going to spend all night thinking about this, aren't I?"
Charizard nodded a third time and let out a growl that sounded strangely satisfied, as if saying, "Finally, you're starting to understand how this works."
Leon didn't sleep.
Well, he slept a little. Fits and starts. Mostly, he spent the night awake, staring at the ceiling of his room while his brain dissected the phrase "I like this Leon" from every possible angle.
Linguistic Analysis:
I like. Verb to like. First person singular. Expresses affection, attraction, or preference toward something or someone. Inherent ambiguity. Affection as a friend? Attraction as something more? A comparative preference relative to other Leons?
This. Demonstrative pronoun. Indicates closeness, proximity, immediate presence. Did it mean Ash preferred the present Leon, the one right in front of him, as opposed to an absent or distant Leon? Was it a veiled critique of the professional Leon, the camera-ready Leon, the Leon who posed and smiled without feeling?
Leon. His name. His identity. But how many Leons were inside him? How many versions of himself did he present to the world? And which one was real? The one Ash said he liked?
At three in the morning, he turned on his phone and searched the internet: "what does it mean when someone says i like this you."
The results were not illuminating.
At four, he searched: "i like this you psychological meaning."
Neither was that.
At five, he searched: "i am a pokemon champion and i think i am falling in love with another champion what do i do."
He closed the tab before it finished loading.
At six, he gave up and went to the kitchen to make coffee. Charizard, who had slept soundly on the sofa all night, watched him with half-closed eyes as he fumbled clumsily with the coffee maker.
"I've been doing some research," Leon said, as if Charizard had asked.
Charizard yawned.
"The phrase 'I like this Leon' can be interpreted in several ways."
Charizard yawned again. Longer.
"The most favorable interpretation suggests that Ash enjoys my company when I'm relaxed and acting naturally, which implies he perceives a positive difference between my public persona and my private persona, and that the latter is... pleasant to him."
Charizard got up from the sofa, walked slowly into the kitchen, and gently but firmly took the coffee maker out of his hands. Then it set it on the counter and nudged Leon toward the table with its head.
"Are you forcing me to sit down?"
"Char."
"Because I've been awake all night and I need to eat something that isn't obsessive thoughts?"
"Charizard."
"Okay. Fair enough."
Leon sat down. Charizard, with the patience only a Pokémon with years of experience dealing with humans could possess, opened the fridge, pulled out eggs, bread, and fruit, and placed them in front of its trainer. Then it started the coffee maker itself, operating the buttons with a surprisingly deft claw.
"You're a better cook than I am," Leon muttered.
Charizard huffed, as if to say, "That's not hard."
Breakfast proceeded in relative silence. Leon ate without much of an appetite, his mind still turning the phrase over. But something had shifted. He didn't know what, exactly, but the simple fact of having spent a sleepless night dwelling on it had made him realize something important:
He didn't want to be "this Leon" or "that Leon" or any other fragmented version of himself. He wanted to be him. The real one. The one who laughed, who told stories, who didn't pose for cameras. The one Ash said he liked.
And if he liked Ash—and at this point, he couldn't deny it anymore, no matter how hard he had tried—then the only thing left to do was keep being that Leon. The real one. And see what happened.
The phone vibrated on the table.
Leon snatched it up so fast he nearly knocked it to the floor.
A message from Ash.
Are you free the day after tomorrow? There's an exhibit at the Wyndon Pokémon Museum. Dragon types. Thought you might like it.
Leon read the text. Re-read it. And this time, instead of overanalyzing, he simply smiled.
Sure. What time?
Eleven? We can get lunch after.
Perfect.
Awesome! :)
Leon set the phone back on the table and looked at Charizard.
"He asked me to a museum."
Charizard nodded.
"Dragon types."
Another nod.
"Said he thought I might like it."
Charizard let out a low, almost guttural sound. Its equivalent of "Obviously."
"I'm not going to overanalyze it," Leon announced, feeling strangely proud of himself. "I'm going to the museum, I'm going to look at dragons, I'm going to have lunch with Ash, and I'm going to be myself. No filters. No poses. The real Leon."
Charizard raised a claw and clapped him on the back. It was a clumsy gesture, but surprisingly affectionate. A silent "Finally."
"Well, maybe I'll analyze a little," Leon admitted. "But less. Much less."
Charizard rolled its eyes. Literally. Its reptilian eyes rotated in their sockets in a way that shouldn't have been physically possible.
"I promise," Leon insisted. "Less analysis. More action. More being myself."
Charizard snorted. A puff of smoke, again. But this time, Leon could catch a different nuance in the sound. It wasn't exasperation. It wasn't resignation.
It was hope.
Because Charizard had seen its trainer win championships, defeat rivals, and overcome impossible challenges. But it had never seen him act like this for anyone. It had never seen him so nervous, so clumsy, so ridiculous... and so happy.
And if Charizard knew one thing after all those years, it was that Leon deserved to be happy.
Even if getting there meant rolling its eyes a few more times.