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Marnie is easy to beat.
It sounds rude when he puts it like that, but her strategy is predictable, and Victor’s ensured his team is as good as it’s ever gonna get. She seems to know it’s over as soon as he takes out her Scrafty. Grimmsnarl is a bit of a snag in his plan, but once his Dynamax is finished the match is finished, and Victor -- as usual -- heads back to the locker room, victorious.
There is one more match in the semi-finals of the Champion Cup. It’s the only match that has put persistent, fluttering butterflies in Victor’s stomach. The time in the locker room is a blur, accompanied by a case of the shakes -- seriously, when did his hands start shaking? -- and then he’s heading back out for the second round, trying not to trip over his own feet as he crosses the turf.
He can already see the headlines. Gym Challenge semi-finalist defeated by biggest rival, gravity. Champion Cup match cut short by impromptu ambulance ride. TOP TEN MOST EMBARRASSING BATTLE MOMENTS (NOT CLICKBAIT) (GONE WRONG). He can also see Bede’s profile picture in the comments section, and that’s enough motivation to keep him on his feet -- at least for now.
It feels like an eternity crossing to the center of the pitch, meeting Hop in the center, willing his hands to please stop shaking before Hop makes a comment about how nervous he must be about losing. The idea is enough to bring a smile to his face.
“Nervous?” Hop says, as a greeting, and Victor realizes he’s done a piss poor job of hiding it.
“Why would I be nervous?” Victor replies, steadying himself, gripping a Pokeball in one hand and shoving the other deep in the pocket of his uniform. “There’s only the whole world watching. Not a big deal at all.”
Hop laughs. Victor allows himself to envy, for a second, exactly how composed his rival is. The roar of the crowd is still far from background noise, and he thinks he might lose his hearing by the end of the match if they continue at this volume. He almost misses Hop’s response. “Exactly, mate. And the whole world will be watching you lose to my new strategy. So you’d better be ready!”
Victor isn’t sure he’s ever going to be ready, but the time for deliberation has passed, and they retreat to the outer rings of the battlefield. He takes a slow, deep breath and takes a moment to soak it in.
He feels, no matter how cliche it sounds, like they are on the cusp of something brilliant here. Something that will go down in legends. Two trainers from quaint Postwick facing off in front of thousands, both endorsed by the Champion, both with eight badges and something to prove. Now -- the stands filled with cheering fans, anticipation thrumming through every nerve in his body -- the world is watching. And somehow this match feels more weighty than facing the Champion himself.
But when he thinks about it, really thinks about it, he thinks maybe he never wanted to be Champion in the first place.
This is a poor time for introspection; the Pokeball is smooth in his hand, ready for the throw, the signal to begin the match. Still, it rings true. He loves his Pokemon, loves everything about Pokemon, but he’s never dreamed of earning the title like Hop has.
Battling comes easy to Victor. Maybe too easily. He’s never had to work for much, suffered a single defeat at the hands of Kabu and none since, and the path to the championship always felt set out. It was only logical, that someone of his talents pursue it. It was only logical that he push himself to his limits and find his own worth.
Victor knows he’s good; his team is good, too. All the time spent wandering Galar hasn’t been wasted, nor have all those adventures out in the Wild Area and battles with trainers and Gym Leaders alike. Still, there’s always been one thing at the end of it, and it’s never been a title or a trophy or even the fleeting satisfaction of defeating Galar’s unbeatable champion. It’s always been Hop at the end of the road. Ready to catch up as if they never parted. To talk on and on about all the things he’s done and seen, while Victor stays quiet and lets him shine, until Hop catches him staring and Victor feels his face flush as he dismisses it, jokingly, as nothing.
Maybe he’s earned a few badges earlier, or caught a few Pokemon earlier, but Victor still feels like he’s always been chasing Hop, running to catch up with the same person he’s been trying to catch up with since childhood. Letting himself take the sidelines in favor of just watching .
He’s always admired Hop’s easy confidence, determination, even his recklessness, a willingness to charge right in that Victor hasn’t ever had. He’s pretty sure that Hop could do anything he set his mind to if given enough time. That’s what really sets them apart, Pokemon aside, championship aside. Hop gets back up, every single time, to make another attempt. Hop takes things to heart but doesn’t let them take him down. Hop puts himself back together and puts the smile back on his face and tries again, determined to fight his way out of Leon’s shadow no matter what it takes.
Hop was his friend first, and then his rival, and maybe now something more, if he lets himself be really, truly honest with himself. Hop is the one Victor wanted to run to every single time he earned a new gym badge or caught a rare Pokemon or won a particularly tough battle. Hop is the one he thinks he could listen to talk for hours.
He wishes now that they had spent more time just wandering together, slowed their mad dash for the next town and maybe camped out in the middle of a Route somewhere.
Victor can see it now. Made curry, and hunted for new Pokemon in patches of tall grass, and maybe if their hands happened to conveniently brush at some point, Victor wouldn’t mind it too much. They could’ve talked by the fire or caught up in a Battle Cafe or fished by the Lake of Outrage -- well, maybe not the last one. Pulling up a furious Gyarados on a fishing rod doesn’t sound like the most romantic time.
But there’ll be time for all of that later, once the battle is over and the Finals are over and someone is walking out with a brand new title. Victor is determined to make time for it. They have all the time in the world.
Victor doesn’t deserve this win, nor this championship. Nor does he really want it. It’s always been Hop. He’ll battle his best -- he always battles his best, in these matches, in the intoxicating thrill of the arena -- but if Hop ends up the one walking away with the victory, he’ll be the one who deserves it. If there’s anyone who deserves it, it’s Hop.
When Hop locks eyes with him from across the turf, Pokeball in hand, sporting a brilliant grin, Victor thinks that losing to him wouldn’t be so bad after all. No; losing to him would be an honor, is what Victor decides, returning Hop’s grin with one of the most genuine smiles he’s managed in a while. Maybe, if Victor lets himself get maybe a little too hopeful, they could even grab dinner together afterwards. No matter what the outcome is, and no matter what the rest of their night holds.
And with that final, perfect thought in mind, their battle begins.