Archive of Our Own

"What about Green, then?" Blue asks. Six pairs of eyes turn their scrutiny on him, and Green tries not to sink deeper in his chair.

"Green looks like a Feraligatr to me," Gold says, slowly. His eyes are scrunched up as if he's imagining an actual Feraligatr sitting in Green's armchair. Silver rolls his eyes.

"A Feraligatr? Oh, come on. Green's too scrawny for that," Blue giggles. "Green's hair obviously makes him an Oddish."

"I dunno," Red says. His head is cocked to one side; he is apparently giving the question serious consideration. "Oddish leaves are kinda… Well, leafy, you know? Green's hair is more pointy. Besides, you can't reduce someone to just their hair."

Blue throws back her hair with trademark Blue flair. "You're one to talk. Your hair looks like it exploded from a Cyndaquil's back."

"Hey, hey!" Gold interjects, waving his hands and nearly knocking over his soda. "We already decided that I'm the one with Cyndaquil hair!"

"…That was you. You were the one who decided you had Cyndaquil hair," Crys says, exasperated, and carefully slides Gold's soda out of the danger zone created by his wild hand gestures.

Gold slides it right back. "You're just jealous 'cuz we can't find your Pokémon twin, Super Serious Gal!"

"Believe me, I'm good."

Green reaches for his glass of ginger ale and takes a long, deliberate sip. To Green's left, Gold and Crystal have descended into puerile squabbling over the merits of finding their Pokémon doppelgängers while Silver dodges Gold's flailing appendages with an expertise that can only come from far too much personal experience. Across from Green, Yellow has somehow escaped the chaos, scribbling away in her sketchbook. And on Green's right, Red and Blue are sharing a couch and a smile; but while Red's is content, Blue's spells mischief.

Gold had taken it upon himself to celebrate two years of "Kicking the Mask of Ice's Ass" (Gold's words) by hosting a party for the seven Dex Holders of Kanto and Johto. Green had never been a big fan of parties, and more importantly, putting Gold and Blue in the same room was a recipe for twelve different kinds of anarchy. Therefore, Green had remained a firm "no" through all of Gold's inviting, pleading, cajoling, and eventual begging, and when Gold finally hung up in a huff, Green assumed he'd washed his hands of the matter.

He should have known better. Not an hour later, Blue and Red both showed up at his door. Blue proclaimed that she was rescuing Green from wasting his life away in sheer boredom; Red dutifully reminded him that it was important to set a good example for the younger trainers. Before their combined onslaught, Green's lonely resistance crumbled to dust.

Green feels eyes on him. Sure enough, Gold is examining him, and Green feels a sinking in his gut as he watches a wolfish grin take over Gold's face. In fact, it is the same wolfish grin that Gold wore when Blue finally dragged Green in through Gold's front door. Green mentally prepares himself.

"I got it now!" Gold shouts, eyes gleaming. "Green's a Fearow!"

Green narrows his eyes and scowls.

"Yeah, just like that!" Gold grins. "You've both got the pointy hair and the angry eyes! And even the look! You know, like you're always ready to murder somebody!"

"Ohhhh," Red says. "I definitely see it now."

Green shoots him an accusatory glare. Red grins apologetically and sheepishly rubs the back of his head. Green still feels betrayed.

Blue bursts into laughter. "Oh, that's so Green!" she says, her whole body shaking. "And you know the way a Fearow flares out its wings to scare enemies? Well, guess what: Green used to wear a cape, and he'd unfurl it the exact same way, just to look intimidating!"

"He wore a cape?" Silver asks, a single eyebrow raised in silent judgment.

"He wore a cape," Yellow confirms.

"Now, now," Red says. "No need to pile on Green. I'm sure we've all made questionable choices in clothing before."

Green frowns. He likes capes.

"Speak for yourself. I always dress to impress," Blue says, and daintily lifts her mug of milk tea from the table. "Really, Green only has himself to blame."

"Sexy Chick's right —" Gold begins, before Silver cuffs him on the back of the head. Gold corrects course without pausing. "Blue's right. Green's entirely responsible for looking like a Fearow."

Blue raises her glass in a mock toast. "I'll drink to that, Cyndaquil Boy."

Gold looks as pleased as a Growlithe receiving head scratches.

"Did you hear about what happened in Hoenn?" Yellow mercifully pipes up. Green has to remember to send her a thank-you card. With flowers.

"You mean how the Pokémon of the land and the sea got into a great big fight?" Red asks.

Yellow nods. "I heard the whole thing started because one group wanted to expand the land, and another wanted to expand the sea."

"They're a bunch of morons," Crys says. "The balance between land and sea is delicate. Sudden changes would be devastating, not just for people but for the Pokémon that —"

"We don't need to hear the full lecture, Super Serious Gal." Gold mimes gagging by sticking a finger down his throat. He sticks it too far, though, and starts actually coughing. Silver whacks him on the back with more force than is probably necessary.

"Anyway," Crys carries on, taking the opportunity to move Gold's soda to safety again. "I'm glad that everything got sorted out. There's a bit of an odd coincidence, actually; Professor Oak told me that a boy and a girl his colleague gave Pokédexes to played a large role in resolving the crisis."

Green remembered his grandfather telling him that, too — Ruby and Sapphire, their names were. Somehow, at the ripe old age of eleven, they had managed to topple two separate criminal organizations, pacified the warring gods of land and sea, and returned harmony to the entire Hoenn region. Then again, he and Red and Blue had managed to subjugate a notorious criminal organization, too. Maybe it was a Pokédex thing.

"Are they just giving out Pokédexes like candy now?" Gold complains. "I had to work hard to get the professor to give me one!"

"That's not what Professor Oak told me," Crys replies, and Gold instantly clams up.

"What are their names?" Yellow asks.

"Ruby's the boy. He's the son of a gym leader; I don't know much more than that," Crys says. "But the girl — Sapphire — she's the daughter of Professor Birch, Professor Oak's colleague in the Hoenn region. According to him, she's a good Pokémon trainer. Apparently, she managed to defeat the Hoenn region's eight gym leaders in eighty days."

"Sapphire, huh?" Blue says, considering, and she leans back against the couch. "That's no small feat. If she's that good, she might even be the one to topple our old champion here!" Blue teasingly nudges Red with her elbow.

Red laughs good-naturedly. "Maybe," he smiles. "Defeating all of Kanto's gym leaders in eighty days — I couldn't do something like that."

"So what?" Gold shrugs. "Gym leaders are just glorified junior trainers, anyway."

Green frowns in disapproval, and is comforted when he sees Red and Yellow do the same.

"Gym leaders aren't just any trainers," Crys explains. "They're the best of the best. To come out on top of all eight of them — let alone in eighty days? That's not easy at all."

"I don't need to collect any badges, 'cuz I already know I'm better," Gold boasts. "Don't you remember what today is? It's the day I kicked the Mask of Ice's ass. And he was the strongest out of all the gym leaders. So it's the same thing as beating all the gym leaders, but I did it in one day." Gold finishes by taking a long swig of his soda, and by the time he sets the glass back down, Silver and Crys have added their own looks of disapproval to the mix.

"Oh ho! You're certainly confident! But I like that in a guy," Blue laughs. There's a twinkle in her eye that could be mistaken as flirtatious, but Green knows better.

"You have good taste, then." Gold winks back at her. Behind him, Silver looks ready to burst a vein.

Blue makes a show of inspecting her nails. "Of course I do. There's just something to like about guys who know what they're doing. The ones who spend all their time bragging but then can't follow through are the worst. I can't stand them."

Gold furiously nods in agreement, and Green thinks that Gold doesn't fully realize what he's agreeing to yet.

"After all, it's just like you said: any old trainer can get a gym badge. It shouldn't be too much trouble to get one."

Crys furrows her brow. "All due respect, but —"

Green nudges her leg with his foot, and when she turns a wondering glance at him, Green slowly shakes his head "no."

"Especially someone as strong as you are, Gold," Blue says. She tilts her head coquettishly. "I bet you could beat any old gym leader in no time flat."

Gold is enjoying the attention. He grins wide. "You know it! I could get a gym badge any time I wanted!"

"It's not like you have to convince me," Blue replies, layering on the syrup. Green fights the urge to roll his eyes. "But I'd hate to be wrong. Because I believe in you, Gold."

Gold thumps his chest. "No prob! I'll take down a gym leader, so don't worry about it!"

Hook, line, and sinker.

"Aw, thanks! I knew I could count on you," Blue grins.

Green's just watched Gold flip-flop in less than a minute from vowing not to collect gym badges to vowing to collect gym badges. Blue's good.

Crys looks dazed. "What… What just happened?" she murmurs.

"That," Green answers quietly, "is why it's never a good idea to piss Blue off."

"Good for you, Gold," Red says. "If you ever want to do more training on Mt. Silver, just let me know. I'm always ready for a hike into the mountains."

"Thanks, Red-Senpai, but there's no need. Because I'm Gold! From New Bark Town!" Gold proclaims, banging the table with his fists in what Gold probably considers a show of determination but is really just a way to cause property damage. "I'm gonna beat my first gym so fast the leader won't even know what hit him!"

Red politely applauds. Green decides to occupy himself through Gold's motivational speech by taking another sip of his ginger ale.

"…And I'm gonna start with Fearow-Hair's gym!"

Green spits the ginger ale out. "W-what?" he croaks.

"I told you already, you look like a Fearow! We decided that earlier. Everyone agrees with me!"

"No, not that," Green stammers out. "I mean, don't call me Fearow-Hair. But also, why me?"

Gold looks at him as if the answer is obvious. "'Cuz with Pryce gone, now you're the strongest leader! I beat you, and that's as good as beating everyone else!"

Leave it to Gold to find shortcuts for his own promises. "Maybe you should think about challenging a different gym leader first. To get the feel for what official league battles are like," Green demurs.

That was the wrong thing to say. Gold's hackles are raised now, and he looks even more fired-up than before. "Are you saying I can't do it?"

"No —"

"Or are you scared you're gonna lose?"

Green does roll his eyes at that. "Definitely not. I could beat you in a Pokémon battle any day of the week."

"Then prove it!" Gold challenges. "Or are you gonna back down now? A real man's gotta be able to back up what he says, just like Blue said!"

Green can't speak for a moment. Blue had baited Gold into a trap without him even realizing it, and now somehow Gold has managed to use Blue's words to turn the tables on Green? He turns his glare on Blue, who is looking altogether far too pleased with the night's developments.

"Well said, Gold," Blue giggles. The look in her eyes is devious. "I've never known Green to be one to back down from a fight."

Green is betrayed for the second time that night.

"Awright, it's decided!" Gold announces. "I'm going to the Viridian City Gym first thing in the morning!"

Green wonders if a red-eye flight out of Kanto is still available.

Crys places a comforting hand on Green's shoulder. "Good luck."

Green frowns. "I don't need luck to win."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Crys sighs.

"…And mark my words, I'm gonna keep coming back until I win, even if it takes me a year! You better get ready, Fearow-Hair!"

Green prays that Gold is joking.

Gold is not joking.

Green knows this because the very next morning Gold is standing outside his front door — not to the Viridian City Gym, but to his house. In Pallet Town.

"Why are you here," Green grumbles.

"A gym battle! Obviously!"

Green shuts the door in his face. But Gold is faster, and throws his body against the door, wedging his foot between the door and the frame. Gold's cheek is pressed up against the wood, and he's trying to maneuver his shoulder into the open space.

"Hey!" Gold protests. "I came all the way to Kanto and you're not gonna battle me?"

Green presses harder.

"Yeeouch — what's the big idea? You chickening out now?"

"I'm not," Green replies. "But that doesn't mean I have to let you into my house."

"Then how do you explain not being at the gym, huh?"

"It's being renovated," Green growls. He doesn't say, "As anyone with eyes could see." He thinks it, though.

"I didn't come all this way just to leave! I challenge you, right here, right now!"

"…You're not serious."

"Course I am! Me and my partners are raring to go!" Gold tries snaking his foot farther into the opening. Green steps on it. Gold's shoe retreats, but it's still propping the door open. One more well-placed slam and —

"Gold? Is that you?"

"Oh hey, Red-Senpai!"

Damn it.

"Gold! What are you doing here?" Green hears Red's voice from outside, and he knows the exact kind of disapproving look Red will give him if he sees that Green's been trying to kick Gold out. It's not like Green can pretend he never heard Gold, either, since the younger boy has his entire body weight pressed against Green's slightly ajar front door.

So Green does the next best thing: He swings the door open, and watches Gold yelp and then tumble into a fantastic heap onto the floor. That'll have to do for now.

"Green — you're home? I thought you'd be at the gym right now," Red says as he walks across the threshold and glances down curiously at Gold, who is picking himself up off the floor. Then his momentary confusion lifts. "Oh, the renovations, right?"

"Why didn't anybody tell me about this," Gold grumbles.

"It's been going on for a while, so it just kinda slipped my mind," Red laughs.

"No big deal," Gold says. He is finally upright and brushing wrinkles from his sweater. "I'll just challenge Fearow-Hair here!"

"Well, it is true that you can have an official gym battle outside of a gym…" Red muses. Green watches his last escape route vanish.

"If I win, will you go away?" Green finally says.

"Promise! But I'm not going to lose, so get ready!"

"That's right, Gold! Show me what you learned from our training!" Red chimes in.

"Fine," Green relents. "But we're not doing this here. There's a field a short walk away. We can use that."

"Sounds good to me!" Gold announces.

It takes them ten minutes to walk to the field. Five minutes after that, Gold is kneeling on the ground surrounded by his shattered dreams, Red is awkwardly trying to comfort him, and Green is very much looking forward to savoring every last second of his rightfully earned peace and quiet.

The renovations to the Viridian City Gym are completed the very next day.

When Green first took the title of gym leader, he had eschewed the gimmicks — swimming pools, invisible walls, pits of boiling magma (Green still wasn't sure how Clair got the Pokémon League to approve that one) — that every other gym leader seemed entirely too enamored with. Gyms were for testing trainers' aptitude and bonds with their Pokémon, after all. Whether one could answer trivia questions was really beside the point. But after hordes of unqualified challengers came streaming in with mountains of Rattata and Zubat, demanding a battle with the runner-up of the Ninth Pokémon League, Green was forced to concede that perhaps those gimmicks had a purpose.

Green kneels down and places an empty Poké Ball on the floor tile in front of him. The panel whirs to life, and he watches the Poké Ball zoom off to some far corner of the gym.

"Mr. Oak?"

One of the ace trainers — Laura, his deputy — has walked over from the gym's entrance hall.

Green stands up. "What is it?"

"There's a young trainer who just came in, and, well — he's very insistent on challenging you."

Green can't even bring himself to raise an eyebrow. "Tell him he has to go through the gym just like everybody else."

"I did," Laura sighs. "But he's blocking the door, and keeps insisting that he won't budge until he speaks with the gym leader. Should we throw him out?"

"…No," Green says, finally. "I'll do it personally."

Green storms out from the gym leader's chamber, prepared to put his foot down and kick out the idiot who thinks he's above the rules. Of course, the idiot happens to be Gold. Green is surprised that he's surprised.

"Yo! This is a real nice place! You design this all yourself?" Gold grins.

Green ignores the question. "What do you want," he demands.

"Oh, right!" Gold exclaims. He takes a deep breath, then jabs a finger in Green's direction. "Gym Leader, I challenge you to an official league battle!"

Green stares at him, nonplussed. Beside him, Laura's face has frozen into an incredulous, one-eyebrow-raised stare.

"What are you waiting for?" Gold demands with his usual excess of energy, hopping from one foot to another. "We gotta battle now!"

"…You really don't know how this works, do you?" Green remarks.

"What's there to know?" Gold answers. "I battle you, I win, I walk away with a shiny badge. That's how it goes, right?"

"Ignoring the fact that you got your ass handed to you yesterday," Green begins, and presses a hand to his forehead. "Gyms have rules. If you want a badge, you have to follow those rules. And in this gym, challengers must first battle and win against a series of gym trainers first — like Laura here." Green gestures to Laura, who is still regarding Gold skeptically, as if she can't quite decide whether the leftover food in the back of the fridge is still any good.

"What? That's not how it worked yesterday!"

"Yesterday was an exception. You want to challenge me? You have to go through the same process as everyone else."

"Come on! Can't you pull strings for your friends, Fearow-Hair?"

"Don't call me that," Green grimaces. He hears a snort from his right, and glances over at Laura, who is now very visibly trying to suppress laughter. "And if I ever hear that nickname again, remember that I do know how to make your life a living hell," Green adds. Laura's shoulders immediately stop shaking.

"Ugh, fine," Gold grumbles. He turns his attention to Laura. "You look like you'll be a good warm-up, so I'll take you on first!"

"Warm-up?" Laura repeats, offended. "Hmph, we'll see if you still have that attitude after I mop the floor with you."

"Normally I'm the one who gets the ladies on the floor, if you know what I mean," Gold grins, using what Green thinks is Gold's attempt at a ladykiller smile.

Laura's left eyebrow twitches. "You're toast," she declares, grabs his wrist, and yanks him behind her toward the battle arena.

"Watch it!" Gold quails. "I'm down to try all sorts of things, but violence is where I draw the line!"

Green watches the two go, Gold struggling to keep his balance as he tries to match Laura's furious pace. Hopefully she'll be able to keep Gold busy for a while, because Gold's reckless enthusiasm is inversely proportional to Green's patience for it.

The gym's sliding doors open, and Green hears an awestruck voice.

"Green, your gym looks fantastic!"

Green turns — it is Crys this time, thank all that is holy.

"I'm just happy that everything's finally finished," Green tells her. He spies a small package in her arms, and raises his eyebrows in a silent question.

"Delivery from Professor Oak," she explains, and hands him the parcel. "He also wants to know if he can have his report on divergent Pokémon macroevolution back — the one he gave to you a month ago. A colleague of his is interested in it."

"Of course," Green says. "I have it upstairs. Follow me."

Green heads for the stairwell, Crys following close behind. An explosion pulses through the air behind them. Green doesn't bother turning around. When you run a gym for nearly a year and challengers show up with all sorts of Pokémon (including somehow managing to create spatial distortions inside Green's gym), little things like explosions stop being surprising. Crys hasn't, though, so she jumps and turns to look for the cause.

"Is that…" She trails off, then releases a long-suffering sigh. "I should've known he'd be here."

Green only gives a grunt of acknowledgment as he begins ascending the staircase.

"He isn't bothering you, is he?" Crys asks. Then, because this is Gold they're talking about, amends, "He isn't bothering you too much, is he?"

"He showed up at my house yesterday," Green answers.

"Oh brother. He just doesn't…" Crys trails off again, and sighs again. "Sorry. He won't apologize, so I'll do it on his behalf."

Green hums and unlocks the door to his office. "You don't need to. He's not your responsibility."

Crys follows him inside, shaking her head. "I honestly wonder sometimes how he hasn't killed himself yet."

"I'd imagine Gold is the only one who hasn't wondered that."

Crys chuckles at that one.

"Anyway, give me a minute," Green says, moving over to his desk and depositing the package from his grandfather on top of it. "Feel free to sit down, or look through the bookshelves or anything." He begins rummaging through the left-hand drawer, but the report's not there, so he moves over to the file cabinet on his right. He rifles through the gym trainer applications, payroll sheets and renovation papers, past a congratulatory note from the chairman of the Pokémon League formally welcoming him as a gym leader and beyond a wrinkled letter from Chuck when he'd heard that Green got the position, and finally finds Divergent Pokémon Evolution: Climatic Patterns and Their Effect on Macroevolutionary Pokémon Variations.

"Here it is," he announces, and plucks the stack of papers from the cabinet, dog-eared all over and pockmarked with Green's scribbled notes. He moves to hand them to Crys, but she is standing off to the side, focused on looking through the floor-to-ceiling windows at something on the first floor of the gym. Green follows her gaze downward, and finds himself watching Laura's Piloswine fend off Gold's Typhlosion.

Green frowns. Laura should know better. Sure, her Piloswine has access to Ground-type moves, but it has a fatal weakness to Gold's favorite Fire-type attacks. She should be battling with her Gyarados, which not only is much faster, it would cripple Gold's Typhlosion through a combination of its resistance to Fire-type moves and Intimidate ability. Green's frown deepens. Laura does know better — that's why she's his lieutenant. Which means the only other explanation is…

"I don't understand," Crys says. "Piloswine's weak to Fire-type attacks, and it's too slow to dodge effectively. Why did she send it out?"

"It's her last Pokémon," Green answers.

Gold's Typhlosion curls into a ball, flames pouring from its back until its entire body is a roiling inferno, and launches itself like a missile at Laura's Piloswine. Green can see Laura gesticulating furiously, face intent and eyes flashing, but Crys is right: Piloswine is too slow. Typhlosion's Flame Wheel slams into it, right between its pair of tusks, and it can do nothing but stagger backward at the impact. When it finally collapses to the ground, Laura recalls it with a shaking hand. She does not send out another Pokémon.

"How many gym trainers does a challenger have to beat before challenging you?" Crys asks.

"Four," Green says.

Crys checks her watch. "…You probably have about twenty minutes left, then. Before he battles against you."

"No trainer's ever been faster than forty," Green says skeptically. He returns his gaze back to the battlefield, where Gold is whooping and hollering and pumping his fist and hugging his Typhlosion, all while Laura does nothing but bite her lip. Gold brings his victory celebrations to a close by withdrawing Typhlosion into its ball, and dashes off, determination unflagging, to find the next gym trainer.

"I still have some field work to do around Route 22, so I better get a move on," Crys interrupts. She waits a moment, thinking. Then, she adds, "And good luck with the challenge."

Green thinks he understands Crys' meaning better than two nights ago. He hands her the stack of papers. "Thanks," he says, for more than one thing. "And tell Gramps I said hello."

Crys smiles, takes the proffered report, then retreats, closing Green's door quietly behind her.

Crys' prediction is, in fact, inaccurate. It does not take Gold twenty minutes to advance to the gym leader's chamber — it takes him sixteen. Green has no time to marvel at the speed record Gold's just set before he saunters in to face Green, giddy off of four straight victories. And in the end, Green supposes, whether Gold takes twenty minutes or two hundred minutes to reach him doesn't really matter. Because Green still wipes Gold out in five.

It is Day Three of Gold's campaign to defeat the Viridian City Gym. It is also the first day that the Viridian City Gym's spin panels are fully operational.

Gold does an exemplary job of testing them out.

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Gold yells. Green lifts his eyes from the book he's reading to watch Gold tumble across the floor, spin away from a wooden partition, and finally collide headlong into a wall. In terms of distance, Gold isn't actually that far from Green in the gym leader's chamber — maybe a half-dozen yards, at most. But with the spin panels dictating the path forward, Gold may as well be in Cerulean City. And given Gold's track record so far, it would probably take Gold less time to walk to Cerulean City than to make it to Green.

Gold groans. He leans against the wall for support at first, but then manages to stand on his own power. He glares at Green.

"So do you like torturing trainers? Is that it?" he shouts, hands balled into fists. "Because I'm pretty sure this is against the law!"

"The Pokémon League approved it," Green answers.

"When I get over there, I'm gonna approve an ass-whooping," Gold fumes. He turns his glare downward at the spin panels, head swiveling left to right as if burning holes into them with his eyes will magically reveal the path forward. He crosses his arms. He uncrosses them. He crosses them again. He throws them up in frustration.

"Come on! How is this even related to Pokémon battling?" Gold demands.

"Gym badges are meant to signify the prowess of a trainer and the bonds between them and their Pokémon," Green recites. "Battles showcase that bond; having the ability to reach the gym leader is a mark of a trainer's intelligence and adaptability."

"I'll show you adaptability," Gold grumbles, and reaches for a Poké Ball.

"If you destroy any of the panels, I won't hesitate to void your challenge," Green says. Gold jolts his arm away, as if he's been zapped by a shock collar.

"But doesn't having Pokémon help me when I'm stuck show how tight our bonds are?" Gold argues.

Green turns the page of his book.

Gold huffs. "Jeez. Why do you have to be such a rule-following goody-goody, Fearow-Hair?"

Green presses a button on his desk. An electronic beep rings out through the gym.

"H-huh? The panels changed direction!" Gold squawks. He's rubbing his eyes frantically as if this is a dream, and the panels will return to their previous state if he believes hard enough.

"I told you to stop calling me that," Green says.

"I almost had it figured out!" Gold wails. "You can't do this to me!"

"I just did."

"That's it, I'm gonna…!" Gold snarls. He advances toward Green to do something — what, exactly, Green isn't sure, because Gold steps on one of the spin panels and is sent careening all the way to the other end of the gym. Gold's cry of frustration and despair is loud enough to be heard even in Johto.

Green's Pokégear rings. He glances down at the name displayed on the screen and decides to pick up.

"This is entirely your fault," Green says into the receiver.

"My fault?" Blue objects melodramatically from the other end. "Oh, my dear Green, whatever are you talking about?"

Green rolls his eyes even though Blue isn't there to see him do it. It's a reflex at this point. "You know what I'm talking about. You're the reason Gold is challenging me to his third gym battle in three days."

Blue's laughter is so loud Green has to pull his head away from the receiver. "Am I now? That's an awful lot of credit you're giving me, you know. I didn't do that much, really. I just happened to, ah — nudge him in the right direction."

"You knew exactly what you were doing," Green interrupts.

"You bet I did," is Blue's easy reply.

"I could have said something."

"And you didn't, for which you have my eternal gratitude."

"You could have shown your eternal gratitude by keeping him out of my gym."

Green hears a crash and muffled swearing from the main hall. He glances up, confirms that Gold hasn't broken any bones, and promptly returns his attention to his Pokégear.

"He's going to cost the gym a fortune in repair bills," Green adds.

"Oh, boo hoo. You can afford it on your gym leader salary, and still have money left over to buy a girl a stunning new pair of heels."

Green jerks a hand to protect his wallet. That's a reflex, too. "I'm not buying you anything."

"Well, if you can't part with the money —"

"No stealing."

Blue tuts. "You're such a goody-goody. Always sticking to the rules."

"Don't think you're original. That's the second time I've heard that today."

"That's because it's true. You know, Gold can at least see when someone needs to get out more, even if he can't find his own way out of a wet paper bag. Just imagine if he was half as clever as I was."

Green contemplates this, but very briefly, because the idea of Blue and Gold being co-conspirators in some scheme is too terrifying to think about for long. There's more whirring, and then a vaguely Gold-shaped blur zooms past, and there's more screaming and more crashing.

"Sounds like he's making progress," Blue observes.

"You could call it that," Green says.

"That's the dry, humorless Fearow-Hair we all know and love!" Blue chirps back.

"Don't you start with that, either."

"It fits you so well, though!" Blue teases. "But if you insist, I'll stop."

"I insist."

"Oh well, it was fun while it lasted," Blue laments, as if she's the aggrieved one. It isn't long before she perks up again. "Anyway, none of this is why I called. Silver and I are meeting up tomorrow in Viridian, so I am letting you know that if you see a shifty-looking, red-headed boy with anger management issues loitering outside your gym, please do not arrest him."

"Do I have a reason to arrest him?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Actually, I would."

"It's an expression, Green," Blue sighs in faux exasperation. "I'm just telling you that we'll be in the neighborhood. That's all. I'd invite you to join us, but I know you prefer your life of solitude and boredom."

Green huffs. "I would prefer that. Instead, I'll probably be tied up at the gym, babysitting the challenger you saddled me with."

"A challenger I saddled you with because it's good for the both of you."

"Good for me?" Green questions. His tone has reached a critical mass of skepticism.

"Come on," Blue tuts, as if she's explaining something exceedingly simple to an impatient child. "You can't tell me you don't enjoy knocking him down a peg or two."

Green listens to Gold shout a curse at the "damn floor-spinny-things." Green allows himself the slightest of smiles.

He might be enjoying it. Just a little.

"Pesky girl."

Green toggles with the settings on the projector, then flicks the switch he thinks turns the contraption on. The blocky metal machine makes a series of clacking noises, and Green thinks for a moment that perhaps the thing will clank and clatter apart into a pile of screws and gears, but it finally groans and sprays a ray of light toward a spot on the floor three yards or so from Green, and Green is staring at a mirror image of himself.

"Welcome, challenging trainer," the hologram intones. "I am Green, the gym leader of Viridian City Gym."

Green raises his eyebrows, impressed. When he first accepted the post of gym leader, Green was under no illusions that it would be time-consuming. He now had a responsibility to the people of Viridian City to maintain peace and to traveling trainers everywhere to assess their strengths. It wasn't until after the Mask of Ice incident, when Green was needed in Ilex Forest and therefore had to leave the gym vacant for days on end, that Green realized that he might not be able to do both at the same time. Still, between his grandfather's errands and the daily grind of performing his duties as gym leader, Green had never found time to determine a solution. The renovation project finally provided a good opportunity to address the problem, and the result was the hologram projection system standing before him.

"I'm very sorry, but I'm currently out. But since you've taken the time to visit me, I am willing to accept your challenge," the image continues. Green passes a hand through it. It fizzles briefly, but reasserts itself as soon as Green withdraws his hand, and continues the speech Green had previously typed into the terminal. Green reminds himself to thank Bill later for building the device — and later means tomorrow night, since his sister has invited Bill over for dinner once again.

Satisfied, Green turns the machine off. The hologram of Green vanishes into the air with a barely audible pop.

"Mr. Oak…"

It's Laura again. But instead of her usual prim and professional demeanor, her lips are drawn into a tight line, her jaw rigid, and her eyes dull. Her shoulders slump as though they're carrying the weight of a Steelix on their shoulders.

"He's back again," is all she says.

Oh.

"And there's someone else with him — a shifty-looking, red-headed boy."

Green very nearly gives into the urge to bash his head against the nearest wall.

"They're arguing with each other. I tried speaking to them, but —"

"They're like that," Green explains. "Don't worry about it."

"Do you want me to —"

"No, I'll take care of it," Green says. He gives her a weak smile. "Why don't you take a break for now? It's almost lunchtime anyway."

She heaves a sigh and nods before trudging to the break room. Green heaves a sigh himself before setting off to find Gold and Silver.

It's not that hard. As soon as Green steps outside, he sees a cartoonish ball of violence, the pair of them tussling on the ground, scrabbling and kicking and scraping. Green is the gym leader. He should probably stop them. He clears his throat.

The pair freezes. Gold's hand is still yanking on Silver's hair, and Silver's fist is just moments away from crushing into Gold's jaw. Both of them mechanically rotate their heads to face Green. There is a moment of silence, with only the sound of wind rustling through the bushes.

"He started it," Gold whines, still flat on his back.

Silver lets his fist connect.

"Ow! Dammit, Silver, that hurt —"

Green doesn't bother letting Gold finish. "You know, I really don't care what the two of you do on your own time," he says, voice even and indifferent from years of practice dealing with upset gym challengers and Blue. "But if you insist on knocking each other out, at least do it away from my gym."

"I can't promise that I won't punch him again," Silver asserts through panting breaths.

"I'm not asking that," Green replies, and ignores Gold's indignant shout. "Just don't do it here."

Silver makes a noncommittal grunt, but releases Gold from his grip anyway and gets to his feet, brushing dirt from his shirt and readjusting the gloves on his hands. Gold scrambles upright, chest heaving with exertion. He disentangles his cap from the bush it is caught in and carefully sets it on his head. He flicks his sulky gaze back and forth between Green and Silver, seemingly unable to decide which of the two is more deserving of his ire.

"Good," Green announces, since neither will apologize (least of all to each other) and an uneasy silence is the best he's going to get. "I'm going back inside now."

The words are barely out of his mouth before Gold issues a protest.

"But you're already here! Let's just battle now!" Gold demands.

Green opens his mouth to respond, but Silver beats him to it.

"You're actually challenging him to a league battle?" Silver says, one eyebrow raised.

"I said I would, didn't I?"

"I didn't think you'd be enough of an idiot to actually fall for it."

Gold bristles. "Whaddya mean, 'fall for it'? I'm doing this 'cuz I wanna, not for anyone else!"

"Whatever you say," Silver shrugs.

"Fearow-Hair's the first leader I'm gonna beat!" Gold insists.

"Really. How's that going so far."

"I feel super pumped! Today's gonna be different — I can tell!"

"So your other attempts failed, then."

Green looks on blankly. He wonders if he is a part of this conversation. Maybe he can leave without Gold noticing.

"I was just testing the waters before," Gold answers. "Now I'm gonna battle for real."

"Right. You keep telling yourself that."

"You're one to talk," Gold snorts. "After all, you didn't win any gym badges. You stole them."

Green inches as imperceptibly as possible toward the door. The gym's sliding doors whoosh open, but Gold and Silver are too intent on continuing their bickering to notice.

"I did what I had to do to get into the Pokémon League," Silver retorts.

"And apparently you had to do that because you're not a good enough battler."

"Still better than you are."

Gold advances toward Silver. "Not when I beat the toughest gym leader in Kanto."

Silver juts his jaw toward Gold. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"You're about to get a front-row seat, then."

"A front-row seat? I can watch trainers kick your ass any day of the week."

Green is nearly inside the doorway.

"Not today, you're not!" Gold announces, and Green's escape is foiled when Gold clamps a hand on his shoulder and declares, "Fearow-Hair! I challenge you!"

Green sighs, counts to three in his head, and turns around. "We can't do this inside?"

"No way! I want Silver here to see my victory firsthand!" Gold jabs a finger in Silver's direction. Silver swats it away with a skeptical snort. "You can't hide behind your stupid whirly gizmos and junior trainers now, Fearow-Hair!"

Green defeats Gold in four minutes and thirty seconds just to prove a point.

"Why don't you let Gold win?"

Green lifts his eyes and lazily turns his head to glance at Yellow. "What makes you ask that?" he asks her, instead.

Yellow doesn't answer right away. Her eyes are tracing every bounce of her lure as it bobs along the current. "Today's the fifth day, isn't it?" she finally says, straightening her back before leaning against a sturdy Viridian Forest tree.

"It is," Green confirms. He maneuvers himself out of the slice of sunlight that's burning his arms until he's appropriately shaded by the branches and leaves. He settles back into his reclining position. A pair of Pidgey chirp back and forth in the boughs above him. He is normally partial to the cozy warmth of the sun, but for now he is content to lie in the shade and catch the bits of blue peeking through the verdant canopy. It's a welcome respite from the past week, which has featured too many flares of chaotic energy for Green's liking.

"So why don't you let him win?" Yellow asks again, languidly sending flicks down her fishing line. The lure jiggles in the stream. A small splash breaks against it.

"I'm a gym leader. I can't just let anybody who walks through the front door have a badge."

Yellow turns her gaze from the river for the first time since she's started fishing and fixes Green with an expression that he can't quite place. "I suppose so," she responds, and turns away from him again. Green watches her slowly draw the fishing line out of the water. She leans down and readjusts the bob at the end of the line, gives it a gentle tug, then flicks it back into the stream. It lands with a plop.

"Why?" Green asks. "Do you think I should just lie down and let Gold roll over me?"

Yellow shakes her head. "No, I don't think that," she says, and trails off. Her attention is captured by the fishing line again.

"But?" Green prompts her, after a long pause.

"I'm not sure," she says, slowly, considering her words. "Do you think I'd be worthy of the Earth Badge?"

"Of course."

Yellow hums in response. She moves her right hand down the length of the rod, for better leverage. She curls the fingers on her left around the line, drawing the lure closer to the shore. Then she uncurls them, and the lure floats back out to the middle of the river.

"If I battled you, do you think I'd win?"

Green is caught off-guard by her question.

"Not that I want to battle," Yellow adds. "Unless Chuchu and Kitty and all the others wanted to. If they did, though, would I win against you and your Pokémon?"

Green props himself up on his elbows. He's always prided himself on his ability to evaluate trainers' skills with only a glance. With trainer after trainer coming through the Viridian City Gym's doors, Green's had plenty of time to practice. And Yellow's no ordinary trainer. Green's seen her abilities up-close; he's tutored her himself near the craggy mountains of Rock Tunnel three years ago. He knows what she's capable of, because he's seen her fight off Lance atop the magma of Cerise Island with a team of Pokémon supercharged by her determination. But otherwise, if she's fighting when there's nothing but a gym badge at stake…

"I don't know," he lies. "Why?"

Yellow glances back at him with a frown. "Curiosity, I guess?" she says, then faces the river again. "But also —"

She cuts herself off. Green sees her grip on the rod tighten, and he realizes the fishing line's grown taut. Green follows the line down to the water, where the lure is splashing up and down in the river, whatever it is on the other end of the line struggling mightily and sending waves of water toward the riverbank.

"Hold on. I got something!" Yellow says breathlessly. She begins returning the line to the rod, bit by bit, and the frantic splashes move closer and closer to the shore. Yellow gives one tremendous yank, and a Goldeen emerges from the water, wriggling to and fro as it dangles helplessly from Yellow's line.

"Aw, don't worry, li'l fishy. Hang on," Yellow smiles, and reaches over to extricate the line from the Goldeen's mouth. She cradles the Goldeen close to herself, and for a moment, the Goldeen is bathed in a golden light. It's as warm and bright as the sun, and Green very nearly has to shield his eyes. Then Yellow returns the Goldeen to the water. The Goldeen wriggles a bit, seemingly readjusting to its watery environment, and turns toward the shore to look at Yellow. It's there for one, two seconds, and then disappears underneath the water, with barely even a ripple to indicate it'd ever been there.

Green looks on in awed silence. The trees above him breathe out a collective breath.

"Man, I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing that, Straw Hat Girl!"

Gold's gaudy clothing swaggers in front of Green. He plops down next to Yellow, apparently not noticing Green's existence, and spreads his limbs out in an enormous stretch. Yellow surreptitiously scoots a foot away with practiced ease, and Gold either doesn't notice or doesn't mind.

"You hook anything else, or was that the only one?" Gold asks her.

"Two Magikarp and a Krabby," Yellow answers, fiddling with her line. "What about you? Any luck?"

Gold sighs a frustrated sigh. "I wish. Fearow-Hair wasn't even there today — and I still lost."

Green makes a mental note to treat his team of reserve Pokémon.

"At least he shoulda had the decency to fight me in person!" Gold grouses. "Am I not that good of a challenge for him? Does he think he can just put up some stupid computer thing against me 'cuz I'm not worth his time?"

"'Computer thing'?" Yellow questions. "What's that?"

Gold waves his hand dismissively. "It's a fake Fearow-Hair, for when he's off doing whatever gym leader stuff he does to make himself feel important. Like, you go inside the gym and vwoosh," Gold says, fanning his hands outward and then waving them away from his body, "this picture of Fearow-Hair appears and says blah-di-blah whatever, let's battle. And then a bunch of Pokémon come out and beat my Pokémon up," he finishes, petulantly.

"…I don't get it," Yellow says.

Gold flops down on his back. "You'll have to ask Fearow-Hair, then, whenever he gets back from whatever's more important than being gym leader."

Yellow twists around. "Green, what's he talking about?" she asks.

"It's a hologram," Green answers.

Gold almost jumps out of his skin, leaping upright and contorting his body to face Green, hair raised like a Persian trapped in the corner of an alley.

"It's a computer, basically. I leave it with a team of reserve Pokémon, and it challenges trainers in my place for when I can't be in the gym," Green continues, sliding himself upright, so now he's standing at his full height. He watches a revolving door of emotions spin through Gold's face. "I decided to test it out today to ensure it could challenge trainers appropriately."

"Oh, I see," Yellow says.

Gold starts sputtering a stream of unintelligible garble. "Wh— You! I, I—! Wh— What are you doing here?" he finally manages to say. It's less of a question and more of a demand.

"Nice to see you, too," Green answers drily.

"Green's checking in on the Pokémon of Viridian Forest," Yellow explains to Gold. "Viridian City's so close that a bunch of upset Pokémon could really hurt people. So sometimes he comes by to make sure nothing's bothering them."

"It's part of my gym leader duties. The ones I do just to make myself feel important," Green adds, and fixes Gold with a stare that could freeze the magma in Clair's gym.

Unfortunately, Gold doesn't turn into an ice sculpture. "What about my gym challenge, huh?"

"What about it."

"Don't play dumb — you knew I was gonna challenge you, and you skipped out!"

"Shockingly, I have other responsibilities that don't involve beating you in five minutes flat."

"What?" Gold snarls. His fists are clenched and vibrating at his sides. "You think you can just — that, that some computer's good enough to beat me?"

Green lifts an eyebrow. "Evidently."

Gold twitches. Suddenly, he's crossed the distance between them and is less than a foot away from Green, raising himself as tall as he can, straight and solid as a stone slab, even if his eyes are only level with Green's chin. Up close, Green can see the purple bruising on his cheek from Silver's punch yesterday.

"Say that again," Gold demands, the sound of a blade glinting in the light.

"Excuse me?" Green responds, thoroughly unimpressed.

"You heard me," Gold growls, again, his steely tone low and threatening and a far cry from the indignant shouting and screeching earlier, and he shoves his leer farther into Green's space. "Say it again. I dare you. Tell me I'm —"

"No fighting." Yellow's voice snaps through Gold's words like a whip. Gold flinches. The river and wind and trees have all gone silent. Gold shuffles a step away from Green, but refuses to avert his glare for even a second. Green glares back.

Gold finally shifts his gaze to a tree somewhere to Green's left. "Whatever. I'm out of here," Gold scowls, then stalks off the way he came, grass and twigs crinkling and breaking under his feet, until the taut air slowly, excruciatingly, begins to untwine. The brook starts chattering again. The trees murmur to themselves.

"Give him some time," Yellow says. She gives one last look to the path Gold stomped away on, then sits down and returns her focus to adjusting the line of her fishing rod. Green doesn't recall seeing her stand up.

"He shouldn't need me to give him any," Green can't stop himself from saying. He kicks at the grass under his feet. Once he's satisfied the ground is dry enough that he won't leave with soggy pants, he carefully sets himself back down.

"Maybe," Yellow demurs. She casts her line into the river. "Time might not be what he's looking for."

Green stares at Yellow's back. The lure bobs once, twice in the river. Yellow clutches the fishing rod a bit tighter. The lure bobs once again. Then the ripples fade, and the lure is still.

"Oh," Yellow sighs. "It got away."

Green taps a pen listlessly against his desk. He is still staring at the first page of an article in Technology and Pokémon Today. During dinner conversation last night, Green had mentioned owning a Porygon2. That had been all it took for Bill to immediately dig through his bag and insist he lend the journal to Green.

By all accounts, the article should be interesting — it hypothesizes that Porygon2 can evolve further if discs containing specially developed evolutionary data are utilized — but Green can't bring himself to focus. He glances over at the clock: four-thirty. Green decides that there is little value in forcing himself to read the same sentence for the sixth consecutive time and flips the journal shut. When he announces to the gym trainers that they can leave early for the weekend, nobody is really surprised.

The only challengers were a young girl whose team was easily trounced by Tristan's Gengar, and a teenage boy who couldn't make it past Laura's Gyarados. Green took the opportunity to finish his examinations of the spin panel installation and make some final tweaks to the hologram machine that would face challengers in his absence. He was even able to tidy up the office, something he'd been putting off for weeks. All in all, it had been a productive day.

Green taps his foot against the floor. For some reason, he feels antsy.

"Mr. Oak, are you sure you'll be okay managing the gym on your own?" Laura asks. She's untied her hair. Her bangs have fallen to cover her left eye, but she makes no effort to brush them away.

"There's only another thirty minutes left until I lock up," Green answers. "I think I'll be able to handle anything that comes up."

"If you're sure, Mr. Oak," Laura recites. Then, almost as an afterthought, she adds, "Have a good weekend." She turns robotically and takes a few tentative steps toward the door before shuffling to a stop.

Green sees her hesitate. "You shouldn't beat yourself up too much."

Laura starts. "Huh? I shouldn't…" She trails off as she processes Green's words. She laughs weakly. "Am I that obvious?"

Green nods. "You haven't been yourself all week. It's not like you to get hung up over a single challenger."

"I know it's not," she sighs. Her face contorts. "But I can't help it. He's such a — such a —!"

"Brat?" Green offers.

"If you're being nice about it," Laura grimaces. "When he pranced inside the gym like he owned the place — I just wanted to knock that smug smile right off his face. And I was so sure I could do it!" She's silent for a moment. When she resumes, her tone is mournful. "It's bad enough that some rude, stuck-up idiot thinks he's better than you. It's worse that he's right."

Green isn't sure how to respond to that.

Laura turns inquiring eyes toward him. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"When you battle. His attitude doesn't seem to faze you at all. If anything, you're even more intense and focused than you usually are."

Green pauses. "He's actually not bad at battling," Green admits. "In spite of… everything else."

Laura shakes her head. "I don't know if I could do it. If it was me, I would've already tossed his body somewhere nobody'd ever find it."

"Sometimes I can't believe I haven't, yet."

"You know," she finally says. "Usually people who have a lot in common become friends. But you two… I never would have thought that someone like you would be friends with someone like him."

Green flicks his eyes toward the ground. He says nothing.

"I was half-expecting him to walk in every time I heard the door slide open. But he didn't show today, huh?"

"Apparently not," Green says. He can't decide on anything else to add, so he keeps his eyes fixed on the square tile at his feet.

"You're right, though. I shouldn't let this get to me," Laura announces. She nods, a single firm bob of the head. "Right. I'll be back on Monday, ready to knock your socks off."

"Good. I expect nothing less."

Laura smiles a small smile — small, but genuine. She turns to leave, and after the gym's sliding doors glide shut behind her, the only sound remaining in the gym is the staccato echo of Green's foot tapping against the tile floor.

Green steps over to the gym leader's chamber. He checks that the Pokémon healing machines are empty (they are), and presses the switch that turns off the spin panels. Friday afternoons are the least popular times for challengers. People are far too busy traveling to the more popular weekend destinations in Kanto, since Viridian City's nightlife could charitably be described as limited. The city attracts office workers who have been shunted out of Saffron, newlyweds looking to raise a family, and few others. In some senses, Viridian City is merely a larger, more populated Pallet Town. Green supposes that is part of the reason he likes it.

Green slides a chair out from under the nearby table and drops into it. It's here for times like these, when he still has duties to perform but challengers are either taking too long or absent entirely. He'd used it a lot today, especially since he hadn't needed to conduct a single official league battle. Instead, he made do with a practice bout against Tristan, who stuck to his original strategy long after Green's team had shot so many holes in it that it may as well have been swiss cheese. Green would have to give him additional tutoring on Monday.

He doesn't get the chance to battle to his full power, not like he used to. He could easily demolish any challenger who walked through the front door without breaking a sweat. But his job as gym leader isn't to crush challengers; it's merely to test them, and to give out badges to those who merit one. It's fulfilling, in its own way. Even so, he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss the excitement of a real battle — one that makes his pulse quicken, one that fills his body with tension until his skin is prickling, one that causes adrenaline and euphoria to rush through him like a cascading river tumbling down a waterfall.

Green stuffs his hands into his pockets, fishing for something to keep them busy, then withdraws them when he realizes there isn't anything there. He pats them against his pants. He realizes his foot is tapping against the floor again. Green forces himself to stop.

Something suddenly slams against Green's desk, and a pair of splayed-out hands appear across the table from him. Green looks up. Gold is standing there, features chiseled at crisp angles onto his face, and seeming just as immovable as thirty tons of granite protruding from his gym floor.

"Are you still taking challenges, or what," he demands.

Green glances at the clock on the wall. It is four fifty-two. Plenty of time.

"I am," Green says.

"Good," is all Gold says back, and he removes his hands from Green's desk but does not budge otherwise.

Green raises an eyebrow skeptically, although he's unsure whether it's because of Gold's sudden appearance right before closing, or his sudden appreciation for concise language, or both, or something else entirely.

"All right, then," Green says, and gets to his feet. "The gym trainers have all left for the day, so it's just you and me."

Green waits for Gold to respond with some biting remark, but Gold's mouth doesn't even twitch. When Green leads the way to the battle arena, the only sound is Gold's feet falling into step behind him. Green decides not to question Gold's taciturnity and enjoy it while it lasts.

"You've challenged me five times already," Green begins, as he takes his stance on his side of the battlefield. "But just to be formal: This will be a three-on-three battle. One Pokémon per trainer may be in battle at a time. If all three of a trainer's Pokémon become incapable of continuing, the other trainer will be declared the victor."

"Cut the crap and let's go already," is Gold's curt reply. His hand grips the billiard cue that he, unfathomably, has brought with him to all of his gym battles.

Green eyes Gold impassively. He retrieves his own Poké Ball from his belt.

The two Poké Balls are launched into the battlefield simultaneously.

"Let's go, Aibo!"

"Scizor!"

Gold barks out the first command. "Aibo! Double Team!"

A wave of Aipom materializes from the air, too many for Green to count, and they all strike out in different directions, one climbing up the wall on Green's left, another circuitously weaving its way toward Scizor, another leaping back and forth in front of Gold, another dashing straight forward in a kamikaze bum rush. Scizor jumps to one side to avoid the Aipom leaping at it; a second runs straight toward Scizor, before it's intercepted by one of Scizor's claws and fizzles apart. Scizor is frantically dodging and attacking as it fends off the illusory horde, and Gold grins victoriously as a trio of Aipom launch themselves at Scizor from three different directions. Gold must be hoping that Scizor won't be able to ferret out the real deal among the impostors. Too bad for him.

"Now," Green commands.

With a gleam in its eye, Scizor cuts at the Aipom on the left. It recoils in pain, and the other two Aipom dissipate into the air like the illusions they are.

"Follow with Brick Break."

Scizor complies, laying into the only remaining Aipom with another strike from its claws. Aipom is tossed like a rag doll into the air, then crashes down onto the gym floor. It struggles to lift itself up. Gold looks on, stupefied.

"Aerial Ace. It never misses," Green explains. Scizor clicks its claws, menacing the Aipom beneath it.

Aipom gives one final, futile effort to pull itself off the floor before collapsing. Gold recalls it into its ball. He grits his teeth.

"Your turn, Exbo!"

Typhlosion appears from the ball with a roar. The ring of flames around its back bursts like a geyser. Scizor eyes it cautiously.

Green does the same. Gold's Aipom is quick, but not very powerful. It's not about landing a knockout blow; it's about biding time until the opponent lets its guard down. Gold's Typhlosion is not. It is his powerhouse. It is just as quick as Aipom, and its sheer strength would render it dangerous even if Scizor wasn't at a type disadvantage. Aipom's skills center on trickery and deception. Typhlosion is all brute force.

"Give it a Flame Wheel!" Gold commands, and a fountain of flames begins pouring from Typhlosion's back. Green's seen this play out before with Laura and her Piloswine. Unfortunately for Gold, Scizor is a great deal faster than Piloswine.

"Agility." Scizor tenses its body, then leaps out of the way just as Typhlosion rockets past. Typhlosion doesn't stop, though, and Green realizes with a start that he's about to be flattened if he doesn't move. He dives to the ground only seconds before Typhlosion barrels over the tile and slams straight into the wall. But instead of screeching to a halt, Typhlosion rebounds from the impact, its momentum carrying it with renewed intensity back onto the battlefield.

"Out of the way, Scizor!" Green shouts, and Scizor is sufficiently aware to narrowly avoid the spinning ball of fire. It's Gold's turn to scamper out of Typhlosion's path now, and when Typhlosion bounces off yet another wall and shows no signs of stopping, Green realizes that Gold is trying to turn the battle into a game of dodgeball.

"Keep it up, Exbo!" Gold calls out, as Scizor manages to dodge for the third time. "Knock that Scizor flat!"

Exbo's pace accelerates. Green feels sweat start to percolate on his forehead. He instinctively flicks it away. Green has to stop Typhlosion soon. Even Scizor won't be able to dodge effectively once Typhlosion's path becomes too fast to foresee. If Green has his way, Gold won't get that chance.

Typhlosion rockets past Scizor again. Green sees Scizor stumble. Gold sees it, too. "Awright, time for the knockout blow!" Gold announces, and Typhlosion kicks off the wall and hurtles toward Scizor like a runaway train. Scizor whirls around to face it, but Typhlosion is approaching too rapidly for Scizor to dodge.

There's a terrific crash, and a spray of tile and other bits of the gym floor is launched into the air as Typhlosion forces Scizor back, obscuring the two Pokémon behind a veil of smoke and debris. The dust stings Green's eyes. When it finally fades and Green can peer past the cloud, Scizor is injured, but still standing. Typhlosion is lying limp on the floor.

"H-huh? B-but… That was a direct hit!" Gold sputters, looking very much as though he'd reached for the last cookie, only for Green to swipe it away from under his nose.

"It was — for Scizor," Green replies cooly.

Gold gapes.

"Every time Typhlosion rolled past, Scizor's been landing one False Swipe after another. On their own, they're not worth much. But by the time Typhlosion finally got up to speed, a single blow was enough to take Typhlosion out."

Green expects to hear some asinine protest from Gold, but he wordlessly summons Typhlosion back. His face is grim as he fumbles for his third — his final — Poké Ball.

Based on their previous battles, Gold is most likely to call out his Politoed. Gold and Politoed are perceptibly close, and Sunflora and Sudowoodo both have clear type disadvantages against Scizor without any corresponding attack power to compensate. Not that it matters. Scizor's more than capable of knocking down any of Gold's Pokémon like bowling pins — and, in a minute from now, ending the battle entirely. Right on schedule.

Gold, face set in a thin line, apparently makes up his mind. He sets his last Poké Ball down on the floor. There's a clack as he launches it into the air with his billiard cue, and then the pop of the Poké Ball opening, and then the usual flash of white light materializing into the form of a Pokémon.

Green is sure there must be some mistake.

"…A Pichu?" Green says aloud, and though he keeps his voice measured, he can't help it if his eyebrows shoot up past his hairline.

"What, never seen one before?" Gold shoots back, and the Pichu, all of ten inches tall, seems affronted by Green's skepticism.

"Not in a gym battle, at any rate."

"Well, you'll remember this time! Let's do this, Pibu!" Pichu nods. The ridiculous tuft of hair on its head flounces.

Green shrugs. "Scizor, you know what to do."

And Scizor does, zooming straight toward Pichu as if it hadn't been injured by Typhlosion's attacks in the least, and slams a claw into the ground where Pichu had been standing just moments before. Pichu vanishes in a blur, then reappears a half-dozen feet away, and Scizor darts after it, swiping and clawing at the small yellow Pokémon that seems always just out of its reach.

Green frowns. He watches Gold shout encouragement at Pichu as it bobs and weaves almost effortlessly to avoid strike after strike. Green's never seen Gold's Pichu in battle before, so he can only guess at its abilities. But from what he's seen so far, Gold's trying to wait Scizor out. Pichu's speed is self-evident; additionally, its tiny size makes it a difficult target. It has to be: a single clean hit from Scizor would probably be enough to knock out the baby Pokémon.

Still, Pokémon battles can't be won by dodging alone. If Gold wants victory, at some point Pichu will have to go on offense — but when? Green watches Pichu squirm and dodge, seemingly content to wait and wait, never launching an attack of its own. He feels his temper flare. Is Gold not taking this seriously? Well, fine. It'll only make it easier for Green to crush him.

A boom reverberates through the chamber from Green's right, where Scizor has just launched a punch straight through the wall, and whose claw is now caught in the hole. While Scizor struggles in frustration to extricate its claw, Pichu is crouched down behind it, completely unharmed and sporting a diabolical grin that wouldn't have been out of place on Gold's own face. Green feels a headache coming on.

"Pibu! Thundershock!" Gold commands.

Pichu launches a pulse of electricity at Scizor. It's not very strong, but it's strong enough to make Scizor flinch before it manages to yank its claw free. Scizor instantly lurches at its attacker in a headlong tackle, but Pichu wags its tail with a playful smirk, then darts away just as Scizor crashes into the ground, missing entirely.

Green clicks his tongue. He can feel Scizor's mounting irritation from his side of the battlefield, not least because Green's irritation is starting to simmer, too. Pichu's running circles around the both of them, literally. But it doesn't have the strength to land a knockout blow. All it's doing is running out the clock — and making Green's life difficult. He's already let the battle go on for longer than it should. It's past time to wrap things up.

"Bullet Punch, now!" he barks out. Scizor obliges, sending a lightning-quick punch toward Pichu. Green feels no small amount of schadenfreude when he hears it collide, stopping Pichu dead in its tracks and launching it like a cannonball into the air —

And through the hole in the wall created by Scizor's punch earlier.

"Pibu!" Gold cries out, and sprints after Pichu, into the wide hall connecting the battlefield with the rest of the gym.

Green grunts in annoyance, then dashes after him and beckons for Scizor to follow. Scizor is all too eager to pursue, and when they trail Gold around the corner, Pichu is there, looking a bit worse for wear, but standing.

"Pibu still wants to keep going!" Gold announces from Pichu's side. Pichu chimes in with a deafening chirp. Sparks dance from its cheeks defiantly. The tuft of hair flops over its face again. It sticks out its tongue. The resemblance to Gold is truly uncanny.

"Are you going to take the battle seriously?" Green growls. "Because if you're not —"

Green doesn't get to finish. Pichu leaps away, and before Green realizes what's happening, Scizor is no longer beside him, but in front of him with its claw embedded in the floor, then tugging it free and chasing after Pichu into the depths of the gym.

"Scizor —!" Green calls out. But Scizor seems wholly focused on hunting Pichu down, and either doesn't hear or doesn't respond.

"At least Scizor takes us seriously," Gold retorts, his determined gaze alternating between watching Green's face and watching Scizor haplessly run after Pichu.

"Scizor knows how to take care of itself," Green answers. He lets the battle continue. Sweat is beading on his forehead. He can feel his blood pounding in his ears. In a haze of adrenaline, he watches Pichu scamper all the way to the floor of spin panels without so much as a scratch, a yellow bundle of impish glee prancing about. But surely it knows that its luck can't last forever. It's already suffered one major blow. Sooner or later, it'll take another, no matter how fast it can run, and that'll be game, set, and match. Green sets his jaw. He's not about to let Gold win. He's not about to let Gold even come close.

Scizor is watching Pichu intensely. It clicks its claws. Pichu smirks, then waves its own hands in the air in a mocking imitation. That does it. Scizor lunges toward Pichu, and for a brief second Green thinks that maybe its hit has landed, but Pichu emerges from underneath Scizor's legs, that omnipresent cockiness still firmly in place, and Scizor's momentum carries it forward, past Pichu and past the tile floor. Green's eyes widen.

Scizor lands on a spin panel.

Before Green can even breathe, he hears the gym's mechanisms whirring to life. There's a second when Scizor shakes its head in confusion, and then it's whisked away by the maze of panels into a far-off corner of the gym, where it crashes into the wall and stumbles around, disoriented, before collapsing onto another spin panel, and whooshes away yet again.

"Not so fun when you're the one being turned around, is it?" Gold taunts.

"…I turned those off earlier today," Green says.

Gold shrugs. "I guess they didn't stay off, huh?"

"That switch is off-limits to challengers," Green snaps.

"Man, you don't give Pibu enough credit! This was all the li'l guy!"

Green tries to swallow his anger and focus on analyzing the situation. Setting aside how exactly Gold has managed to do it, with the spin panels activated, Scizor's current field of movement has been severely restricted. Meanwhile, Pichu has managed to stay clear of the spin panels entirely. If Pichu was intending to launch a close-up attack, it would have followed Scizor into the labyrinth; Pichu must therefore be ready to launch a ranged attack. But all Scizor would need to do to avoid it would be to step onto one of the spin panels and allow itself to be pulled away. Pichu doesn't seem to have much battle experience, and not even the most experienced Pokémon could know in advance where Scizor would end up.

Scizor is trapped and can't strike; Pichu is too far away to land a strike of its own. It's a stalemate. Is that what Gold's been pushing toward this entire time?

Green feels his pulse quicken. No, Gold doesn't do moral victories. He plays to win. Green is missing something.

"Scizor, get out of there!" Green cries out, eyes darting back and forth over the battlefield, searching for the danger, unsure of what the danger is, but sure the danger is there all the same.

Gold's smile is predatory. "It's too late for that, you know. Pibu — it's time!"

Pichu chirps its agreement. Scizor seems unsure of what to do, wary of inadvertently stepping on a spin panel but clearly not eager to be a sitting duck for whatever attack Pichu's about to launch. Sweat percolates on Green's clenched palms, tension grips every muscle in his body, blood pulses through him like adrenaline in a way he'd forgotten he could feel. Green can only watch as Pichu's cheeks crackle, and then Pichu fires a Thunderbolt straight at Scizor. Scizor evades just in time, and is sent off to a spot several yards away from the impact site.

Green's first reaction is relief. That relief immediately turns into terror when he realizes that Pichu's Thunderbolt has electrified the entire mechanical section of the floor — the floor Scizor is currently standing on.

A screech pierces through the gym. Green resists the urge to cover his ears. He whirls to see Scizor shrieking in pain, blue plasma cracking as it arcs from tile to tile, connecting with Scizor's body, its claws and feet and wings and head spasming with the current pumping through its body, a cacophony of pained cries and crackling electric bolts rampaging inside the gym, until after seconds that feel like days, Scizor crumples in a heap onto the ground.

Judging from all of their battles so far, Gold has no predetermined strategy; there are only moments of spontaneous improvisation using whatever tools Gold chances upon. His only rule is that anything goes. Gym battles, however, are heavily regulated. Only one Pokémon on the field at a time. All of a gym leader's Pokémon must become unable to battle. A standardized environment. Gym battles expressly ban the methods Gold prefers. They remove Gold's biggest strengths and exacerbate his biggest weaknesses.

Green stares in angry disbelief at Scizor, unmoving on the floor. He's playing by Gold's rules now.

"Good work, Pibu!" Gold grins, relishing his triumph. "How's that, Fearow-Hair? Ready to — hey, you hear that?"

There's a low, electronic thrumming — and then the lights go dark. Green's blood, rushing through him in the heat of the battle, seems to stop all at once as he realizes the gym's electricity has been cut.

"What happened to the lights?" Gold's voice demands, echoing around the cavernous gym.

"Pichu's Thunderbolt shorted the gym's electricity," Green grinds out. His eyes are frantically searching for Scizor, impatient to return it to the safety of its ball, and he's growing more irritated with every second it takes for his eyes to adjust.

"Huh." Gold's voice sounds genuinely surprised. "Don't you got, like, a safety thing in place?"

"I wasn't expecting someone crazy enough to risk electrocution," Green retorts, in the direction he thinks Gold's voice is coming from.

"It's not crazy if it worked!"

"They're not mutually exclusive," Green replies, with more flare in his voice than he intended. He reaches for Charizard's Poké Ball. "Charizard, give me some light."

Charizard materializes from the Poké Ball, grunts, and then Green feels the warmth of a crackling flame as Charizard maneuvers its tail to provide as much light as possible. Green peers through the blackness, searching for Scizor, and breathes a relieved sigh when he finally spies its telltale rusty color in the gloom. He breathes another one when he recalls it.

His respite is short-lived.

A blue pulse of electricity sparks through the air and strikes Charizard. Charizard releases a startled growl. It rears its head back, prepared to launch a fireball toward where Gold and Pichu are presumably standing, but snorts and seems to think better of it, settling for flapping its wings in annoyance. Another bolt emerges from the gloom, but Charizard is prepared this time, and evades effortlessly.

"Cut it out, Gold!" Green barks.

"Whaddya talking about?" Gold's voice answers back.

"The battle's over! So tell Pichu to quit attacking Charizard already!"

There's a brief pause. "So you forfeit, then?"

"What? No."

"Then we'll keep going!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Green demands.

"Pibu's still got tons of energy left — we're gonna finish what we started!"

Green feels his fists clench. If Charizard had used its Flamethrower on Gold, Green's not sure he would have told Charizard to stop. "It's already finished. You took out the gym's electricity! We're not continuing."

"Why the hell not?" Gold's voice shouts, frustrated. "You don't need electricity for a Pokémon battle!"

"Because if you stopped and thought about it for even a second, this isn't just about some battle!" Green snaps. "If there had been anybody on that floor, they'd be seriously injured right now —"

"You already told me there wasn't anybody!" Gold interjects, defensive.

"— and even if there wasn't, the electricity does more things than just keep the spin panels running. It controls the locks on the gym's doors. It's hooked up to the healing machines for hurt Pokémon — Pokémon that could die if the machine breaks down."

"Well, are there any?" Gold demands.

"Thankfully, there aren't," Green says, icy.

"Then what's your problem?"

"Exactly that: you didn't know."

"What?" Gold screeches. "How'm I supposed t' —"

"You didn't know one way or the other," Green interrupts. "So when you cut the electricity, for all you knew, there were Pokémon at risk. And you did it anyway. For what? Just so you could beat me?" Green seethes. It's taking all of Green's willpower to keep his voice steady and even and calm, and not to betray the blazing rage burning through his body.

There is no response from beyond the shadow, only the occasional crackle from the flame on Charizard's tail. There is only Green, Charizard, and the darkness that surrounds them like a wall. For a second, Green can see something other than shadow, can imagine he's standing in a different world, one where Scizor hadn't fainted and Gold hadn't entered his gym.

The clatter of harsh footsteps echoes in the gym, growing closer, and Gold stomps into the flickering light, the darkness peeling away around him like oil from water, until he is standing directly in front of Green. Unlike Green, Gold evidently has no problem with letting his own anger show, because his jaw is set and his mouth is tight and everything in his body is sharp angles and straight lines.

"That's bullshit," Gold snarls into Green's face. Pichu clutches Gold's leg with wide eyes. "We battled for a week, and you rubbed every single one of your victories in my face. But the one time I get the upper hand, you call the whole thing off?"

"You cut the electricity," Green repeats, with added emphasis, because Gold can't seem to get that fact and its implications through his dense skull. "Do you need me to tell you again, since you evidently didn't hear me the first time?"

"Scizor punched Pibu through a wall and you kept going!"

"Those are nothing alike."

"And you didn't say a word when Exbo and Scizor were tearing up the floor! The only difference this time is that we knocked Scizor out!"

"The difference is that your reckless actions before only endangered yourself," Green says, and his voice cracks in his fury, but Green can't bring himself to care about professionalism anymore. "That may be stupid, but I assume that's a risk you were willing to take. I draw the line at hurting others. Pichu's Thunderbolt could have hurt someone, or worse. And you never gave that a second thought. I don't give the Earth Badge to trainers like you," Green finishes, glaring down at Gold.

Gold doesn't say anything for a moment. He finally raises his eyes to meet Green's. They're distant and peering into the nothingness behind Green.

"…You never were gonna give me the Earth Badge," Gold exhales. The spitfire that once burst from his mouth is now a smoldering ember. He scans Green's face, searching for something like an answer. Green refuses to budge.

"What's it like?" Gold finally asks. His grip on his billiard cue tightens. "To be that full of shit," he spits, and the fire bursts into a blaze again.

"You never were gonna give me the Earth Badge," Gold repeats, drawing strength from it like a mantra, his eyes alight, two furious embers burning holes into Green. "You decided that even before our first battle. You've been going out of your way to flatten me, just to show that you can. You think I didn't notice? You could have called off today's battle when Scizor punched Pibu out of the battle arena. But no — you decided to keep going. You wanted to crush me. That was the whole point. This entire time, all you wanted was to humiliate me. You did it in front of Red, and Yellow, and Silver. And even if I did win, you already decided that wasn't good enough." He pauses, tasting the words on his tongue. "All you wanted from the very start was to put me in my place."

"And what if I did?" Green responds.

Gold doesn't seem to anticipate that answer and gapes for a moment, but he pulls himself together quickly. "Then you're even more of an asshole than I gave you credit for," he shoots back.

"I suppose responsibility can look that way to someone who doesn't have a clue what it means to be responsible."

"What part of responsibility means stringing me along for a week, just so you could laugh when you kicked me into the mud?"

"The part where you insulted the hard work and duty of gym leaders."

"And you think that gives you the right to treat my challenge like crap? That's not responsibility! It's revenge. Who died and made you king? What gives you the right to act so high and mighty?" Gold rages, and he flings out his billiard cue threateningly, pointing it at Green's neck, as if it's a sword.

Charizard swats it into the darkness with a flick of its tail.

"The authority vested in me by the Pokémon League, as Viridian City's official gym leader," Green booms, voice reverberating throughout the vacant gym, drowning out the clattering of the cue landing somewhere on the tile. He places himself right in front of Gold, so Gold has no choice but to look Green in the eye, and for the first time since the week began, Green sees something like uncertainty flash across Gold's face.

"I have a duty to protect this city's people and Pokémon. I take that duty seriously. That's why I only grant the Earth Badge to deserving trainers. Whatever your skill may be, you're reckless. You're obstinate. You don't think about the consequences of your actions. Someday that's going to bite you in the ass. Even if you somehow defeated me, I still wouldn't give you the Earth Badge. Only trainers who have the character and skill to help others deserve one," Green says sharply. "I won't waste one on you."

Gold jerks his neck back, as if he had been hanging on Green's words, only to find that Green's words were rope. He looks away from Green, away from Charizard, away from the Pichu clinging to his left leg the entire time, into the pooling darkness on the floor. The flickering light totters nervously across his face. Charizard's flame pops.

"Fine. I get it," Gold finally rumbles out, and even if the menace is gone, the bite is still there. "I'm good enough to beat all your gym trainers in record time. I'm good enough to give you a good fight. But I'm still not good enough for you. I'm never good enough.

"You can think whatever you want about me. I don't care. But at least Oak had the decency to give me a shot and prove him wrong," and now Gold lifts his head, and his eyes bore into Green's. "You couldn't even do that."

Somehow, Gold's words cut deeper than Green thinks they should.

"Let's go, Pibu," Gold says. Pichu whines and nods its head, releasing Gold's leg and darting into the darkness beyond Charizard's flame. Gold follows, and the shadows pour into the empty space he leaves behind until it's as if Gold was never there. He doesn't look back.

The next week at Viridian City Gym proceeds normally, or as normally as possible with the gym leader on a hair-trigger temper. The group of electricians who are summoned to fix the gym's wiring receive the brunt of Green's ire, but Green also makes time to snarl at Tristan, who still can't seem to grasp the concept of changing strategies on the fly, even after Green provides him with intensive training. Green wipes the floor with every challenger he faces; a young boy is sent out, crying, after his Sunflora receives a particularly brutal thrashing. Laura asks, once, if she should expect to see the boy with the exploding hair again, but the glare Green shoots her is so intense that she immediately flees to the break room and doesn't dare bring it up again.

Green can't even bring himself to look forward to the weekend. Bill's visiting his seaside cottage again, and he's made it a point to invite the Oak family over for the weekend. In spite of Green's reservations, he and Daisy and their grandfather go anyway, even though Green is more taciturn than usual, spending most of his time alone in the room he's borrowing or watching the sea from the cape.

Daisy knows, somehow, even if Green doesn't say anything and Daisy doesn't ask, because on the last day of their visit, she meets Green out on Cerulean Cape with two cartons of still-steaming rice and pork, a bottle of iced green tea (for her), and a can of ginger ale (for him). Green doesn't have to force a smile, this time. She's too kind to him.

"Our grandfather's a fine person, Green," Daisy says, pouring the tea from the bottle and into the porcelain cup she always carries with her for teatime. "But you're not him. And he's not you. Don't worry so much about comparing yourself to him."

Green jabs at a grain of rice with his chopsticks.

"He's proud of you because you've grown so much as your own person. He trusts you to make your own decisions."

"Even if I make the wrong decision?"

"As if he's never made a mistake in his life, either," Daisy answers easily, setting her cup down on her lap. "Not every decision he's made is right. Not every decision you've made is wrong. And even if you both make different decisions, they could both be the right ones. Because you're different people."

Green raises a skeptical eyebrow.

"People change, you know. You're not the same person as you were five years ago."

"Don't remind me."

"Probably even a better person," Daisy teases, ruffling his hair.

"You're optimistic," Green mutters, trying to pluck the last stubborn piece of pork from the side of the carton.

"Not optimistic. It's the truth," Daisy corrects him. "Nobody's perfect, of course. But we all learn and grow from our experiences. And I don't just mean you or our grandfather. That goes for everybody. They change, too."

Green stops chewing and stares at Daisy. Daisy looks back at him significantly.

"Hm," is all Green says, and yet his words seem to fill the space in the empty carton.

Green and his grandfather leave the next day (Daisy stays behind, and Green by now has a pretty good idea why). Green takes the long road back to Viridian City — he's already given Laura permission to open the gym on Monday — and his Pokémon seem to appreciate the detour. The long, dirt roads that lead only to the horizon and the nostalgic scent of the tall grass remind him of all the time he spent on the road when he was younger, before Charmander was a Charizard, before Green met Red, before Green took up the mantle of gym leader.

When he does return to Viridian City, it's Tuesday, and Laura and the other gym trainers greet him with wide smiles. There's not much time for courtesies, though — the gym is swarmed with challengers, and yet Green's never been more thankful to be kept on his feet all day. By the end of the day, Green ends up awarding two trainers with Earth Badges. He's even more pleased to see that his gym trainers have all been making progress, even while he's gone; Tristan's gotten better at adjusting strategies mid-battle, and Laura, too, has redoubled her training efforts since last week, practicing a technique that combines two of Piloswine's moves, and would surely wreak havoc once it was mastered. He often catches the gym trainers sneaking furtive glances at him, and they all seem in a more buoyant mood than usual, but Laura assures him that they're all just happy to have him back. By the time he sends everyone home for the day and climbs the steps to his office to finish locking up, there's a small smile on his face.

Green nudges his office door open with his shoulder. The first thing he sees is Gold spinning lazy circles in Green's desk chair.

"Oh! Welcome back, Fearow-Hair!" Gold chirps. He kicks his foot off the floor. Green's chair begins its rotation anew.

"What are you doing here," Green says. It's a demand, not a question.

"Nice to see you, too," Gold says, and sticks a foot against Green's desk. Green's chair immediately stops spinning.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Jeez, can't a guy relax while he's waiting for the gym leader?" Gold bounces upright and out of the chair, then trots around the desk so there's nothing but the carpet in between the two of them. "You were taking so long, so I let myself in. Hope you don't mind."

"The door was locked," Green observes.

"Wasn't for long!" Gold grins. Green remains unimpressed. Gold sobers. "Man, Fearow-Hair, you don't gotta look so serious all the time. What else was I supposed to do? You were busy all day, and I wasn't gonna bother with your stupid spin traps again."

"I'm not accepting challenges from you right now."

There's a flare of anger on Gold's face, but Gold quickly buries it under an indifferent shrug. "Well, that doesn't matter to me. I'm not here for a battle, anyway."

"Then why are you here?"

"Just wondering if you have my pool cue. You know, from when I left it in the gym a couple weeks ago," Gold says, casually, as though the two of them had done nothing more interesting than share lunch, and Gold hadn't shorted the gym's entire electrical system.

Green grunts an acknowledgement. "I do," he says. He eyes Gold cautiously as he maneuvers around the desk and unlocks the bottom drawer, taking the cue from inside and handing it to Gold.

"Aw, great!" Gold says, grinning ear-to-ear. He clicks a button on the end, and the cue instantly extends to its full length. "Just like I remember! I tried throwing the Poké Balls for the first couple of days, but it just wasn't the same, you know?"

"I don't."

"That's 'cuz you're so boring, Fearow-Hair. You even have this fancy office and everything, and you just got bunches of papers and books lying around. Where's the fun in that?"

Green frowns. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to figure out that there's nothing interesting in here at all. And to see you give out a badge to a couple of trainers," he answers. Then he adds, almost as an afterthought, "You didn't go all-out against them."

"I didn't," Green agrees.

Gold turns away from Green and stares out the glass to the vacant gym floor. Green does the same. "Good for them," Gold finally says.

Green finds himself examining the floor of spin panels. The electricians had reworked the network so they operated on their own independent circuit and could be isolated from the remainder of the gym's wiring. In the event that something went wrong, the floor would automatically shut down in order to permit everything else to function. In the flood of trainers that came in today, Green hadn't had an opportunity to witness whether the adjustments worked or not — but Laura assured him that everything was working just as intended.

"I'm not gonna apologize for Friday," Gold announces, and Green pulls himself away from the window. Gold's gaze is still fixed firmly on the empty space behind the glass, steadfastly refusing to look at Green.

"I wasn't expecting you to," Green replies.

Gold frowns, seemingly working his way through all the implications of Green's words, but doesn't protest.

"I will beat you, someday," Gold states matter-of-factly, and he finally turns to face Green. His face is determined. "But I'm not gonna play by your stupid league rules. I'm gonna do it my way."

Green hums. "I'll be waiting," he says.

Gold nods once. "Then I'll see you then, I guess," he says. He grips his cue and makes his way over to the door. "See you later, Fearow-Hair!" he announces, an amused, wolfish grin on his face, then disappears out the door.

Green stares after him, furrowing his brow. He's seen that look on Gold's face before. Quite often. If Green thinks about it, the last time was probably when Gold came up with the moniker "Fearow-Hair."

Green swears under his breath, then bolts down the stairs as fast as he can.

"Gold! Dammit, what did you do?"

Gold's nowhere in sight on the main floor of the gym, and by the time the gym's sliding doors allow Green outside, panting, Gold is long gone. Green returns inside, frowning. He's sure Gold has done something, and Green's eyes rove over the spin panels, the stairwell, the tile floor, the battle arena, the hologram machine…

Green's eyes widen.

He rushes over to the machine and flicks it on. A faded, translucent Green appears from the air. It speaks.

"I am Fearow-Hair, the gym leader of Viridian City Gym."

Green stares at it. He suddenly knows why all the gym trainers were smiling at him today.

"I'm very sorry, but I've got a huge stick up my ass —"

Green curses and kicks the machine. All the gym trainers get extra training tomorrow. And the next time Gold shows up in Green's gym, Gold is dead meat.