Chapter Text
Hop couldn't concentrate today.
It might have been the pleasant spring sun, filtering in through the window and bouncing off the laminated pages he was pursuing, compelling him to turn his attention to the window. The heat and the amusing scene of the frolicking Wooloo in the fields did a fine job of keeping his attention on anything but his work.
It also might have been the anticipation. Every now and then his gaze flickered to the clock on the wall. Gloria had a match today - only an exhibition one - but Hop always exulted in the prospect of watching her live. It was now 12:45 - the matches were due to start at 1 - he would take his lunch then and sit out in the grass in front of the lab to watch on his laptop.
He got up from his chair and shielded his eyes to peer at Sonia rifling through the shelves on the balcony above. Her back was to him and her humming as she concentrated was a soothing and familiar melody. It was hard to believe it had been 7 years since he had started working with her; they had fallen into a comfortable synchronicity so quickly there had barely been an adjustment period, and it was very early on in their professional relationship that Hop had felt he had been there forever.
"Sonia?" he called. Sonia's red ponytail bobbed as she snapped to attention, and she stood to come and peer over the railing at him.
"Hey Hop," she replied with a smile. "Everything alright?"
Hop grinned back. "Grand." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I was just letting you know I'm gonna take lunch in a few? Gloria has a tournament starting at 1 and I don't want to miss it - if I'm not there to take a call at the end and discuss every single detail she'll go spare." His grin widened at the memory of once having missed a tournament because himself and Sonia were out in the Wild Area on a work project. There was no signal out there, and Hop had forgotten to tell Gloria he would be away (of course he had the tournament recording for his return.) He had come back to Wedgehurst with 5 missed calls, several texts, and a disgruntled selfie asking whether he had died.
"Oh, wonderful! She has matches today?" Sonia threw up her hands in jubilation; to Hop's immense relief, she was not holding a book. "I would love to watch, too. It's been ages since I've settled in to watch a tournament and Nessa is always griping I never get round to watching any of her matches." Her smile became coy. "What do you say to taking an extended break and watching on a laptop in the garden? I can make some ice tea."
Hop nodded enthusiastically. "Sounds like a plan! I'll get the stream up and running." Sonia, to many people's surprise, had never had to be strict with Hop. Despite his reputation for impulsiveness and general air of chaos, he was focused and determined about things he had a passion for. Studiousness and discipline were two traits integral to a successful Pokémon Professor and not ones Hop was famed for, but he had proved himself with his diligence from the start. Hop did not always follow a straight line from A to B, but even with his many stops and detours along the way he almost always managed to produce work to a high standard. But Sonia had known this long before the day she had asked him to come on board as her assistant.
Hop grabbed his laptop from the gleaming countertop and made his way outside with a skip in his step, pausing only to pet Yamper who had weaved excitedly between his legs. It was difficult not to be in a good mood: the sun was shining, work was not too busy for him to steal some downtime, and he was about to settle in for an afternoon of quality battles. Even if he did not do so much of it himself anymore, his interest had not been quelled in the slightest. Gloria on the field was poetry in motion, and a fantastic learning opportunity – watching her direct her partners was a fully immersive lesson in how to draw out Pokémon’s full potential via flawless strategy and iron-clad bonds of trust. Hop set the laptop down on the garden table out back and opened the umbrella before settling down to bring up the livestream of the tournament. Sonia emerged a couple of minutes later, balancing a tray carrying a jug of peach ice tea and two glasses. Yamper trotted after her obediently, careful to avoid getting in the way. Once she had set the tray down and taken her seat, Yamper leapt into her lap as Sonia laughingly scratched behind her ears. “Learned your lesson after years of close calls involving mugs of tea, eh?” she cooed, and Yamper barked happily while Hop chuckled. “You’re not the only one, Yamper. Only recently, despite years of having being told, have I discovered the true perils of running indoors, especially in a tea-laden Sonia’s vicinity.”
They both laughed, then, and Sonia poured the ice tea as Hop hit play. The announcer’s voice first crackled and then boomed over the laptop speakers, and Hop felt the familiar rush of adrenaline course through him as the camera panned over the pitch. There were not many big names in the tournament today – just Gloria, Nessa and some random challengers. Gloria would make short work of them all, Hop had no doubt. Although he didn’t dare comment as such in front of Sonia.
First up were two of the random challengers –a young woman and an older gentleman. Hop and Sonia mostly chatted among themselves for the span of that battle, Yamper interjecting occasionally to demand one of the treats hidden in Sonia’s pockets. Hop watched from the corner of his eye as the young woman’s Manectric decimated the opponent’s Blastoise with a wicked Thunderbolt. “Solid,” he remarked, and Sonia looked up from checking her phone. “Mhmm,” she replied, sipping some ice tea. “Who’s up next?”
“Gloria and a challenger.” As he spoke, Hop had gotten out his own phone to shoot Gloria a quick ‘good luck’ text – not that she would need it, or even see it until the tournament was over. But, still – he wanted her to know he was thinking of her.
Gloria strolled out on the pitch as her number, 37, flashed up on the huge monitor behind her. Despite an occasional wave and smile to the roaring crowd her gaze was set ahead, eyes gleaming with steely determination. It had been 7 years since she had taken Leon’s place as Champion, but Hop had never quite gotten over the scale of the difference between them as battlers, both in style and presence on the pitch. Leon had been so flashy, posing and swishing his cape and blowing kisses, hamming it to the max. Gloria, regardless of who her opponent was, always stepped up with an air of aloofness to the crowd, her attention solely on the match before her. Hop always wondered if Rose’s presence and lack thereof during Gloria's reign had anything to do with that, but Leon never brought him up. Hop never asked.
He was pulled away from his thoughts by Sonia clapping excitedly as Gloria let out Saber, her Haxorus, to face her opponent’s Beartic. The camera panned over the man’s face for a moment and Hop noted a smug smile tracing his features. From the perspective of an untrained eye, it would appear as though he had an advantage. But Hop knew better – Gloria would make short work of him and not have to withdraw a single Pokémon.
Indeed, Saber demolished the Beartic with a single, well-aimed Close Combat move and the rest of the match flew by in a similar fashion. Hop couldn’t help but smile at Sonia’s rapt attention, her eyes fixed on the screen as she petted Yamper absentmindedly. It was easy to forget that Sonia had once been a fine battler, a rival even to Leon – Hop always meant to ask her if she ever missed it.
Gloria withdrew Saber and bowed with a flourish as the match ended. She crossed the field to shake her crestfallen opponent’s hand, and that was the last they saw before the pitch darkened again in preparation for the next battle. Sonia leaned back as the ad break started, her eyes shining. “My gosh, that was thrilling!” she remarked. “I really do need to try and watch these more often – that poor fellow couldn’t get a move in edgeways!”
“That’s Gloria,” replied Hop happily. He took a gulp of ice tea, as though it had just been him out working up a sweat. “She’s in a league of her own. The more I watch her, the more vindicated I feel in not being able to match her in battle – can definitely see her holding the title even longer than Leon did!” There was a smile on his face as he spoke, but Sonia’s gaze became pitying.
“Don’t say that.” She avoided meeting his eyes to look down at Yamper, who was now dozing peacefully in her lap. “About yourself, I mean. Being good with Pokémon isn’t all about battling.”
Hop fought the urge to scowl. “I know that.” Even after all this time, people seemed so delicate around in him relation to Gloria and her success. Gloria was his best friend, and he had let go the dream of defeating Leon and becoming Champion a long time ago. He knew Sonia didn’t appreciate when he was self-deprecating – because, she said, she valued his input and effort so much here with her. But it annoyed Hop that people seemed to think they would hurt his feelings if they joked about it with him: he wanted so badly to be rid of that legacy of being second-best to Gloria in the Gym Challenge. He walked a different path, now, one less glitzy but fulfilling and important all the same. They were silent as the show returned and the commentator announced Nessa and another challenger were up to bat. Hop’s temporary irritation dissipated as he watched Sonia zap to attention. Nessa was her best friend – Hop suspected she might be more. As he spent most of his days with Sonia, he was privy to details of her life that many others were not: even then, he wasn’t completely sure. But he knew what he saw. He observed them together whenever Nessa came to visit, or whenever Sonia returned from hanging out with her. She always spent the rest of the evening with cheeks flushed with happiness, texting constantly. It was nice to see.
Nessa defeated the challenger with ease, and before long it was the final.
Any air of disquiet that might have remained between them was chased away entirely when the announcement rang out that the final match between Nessa and Gloria was about to begin. Hop leaned forward in his chair, near vibrating with excitement. Sonia, too, was tensed eagerly as both combatants waved to the camera with the assured ease of those used to the eyes of the world being upon them. They crossed to the centre of the pitch to shake hands, keeping in line with the finalists’ tradition, then turned to take their places. Both of their gaits were stilted with determination, gazes set firmly ahead.
As Hop had predicted, it didn’t take long. Nessa was a fine trainer indeed, but still, like all of them, was nowhere near Gloria’s level. Gloria was well-prepared with her Bolthund, Lassie, and took down Nessa’s team with one well-aimed electric attack after another. Lassie moved as though she were an extension of Gloria herself, striking with precision in time with each of Gloria’s commands. Sonia raised a hand to cover her mouth as Nessa’s dynamaxed Drednaw came down in an explosion of light, and Gloria and Lassie celebrated in its wake.
“Ohhh,” the sound escaped Sonia in a long exhale. “Poor Nessa.” She shook her head. “I suppose we can’t be surprised though really, can we?” She chuckled. “Wow. I really enjoyed that! Be sure to wrangle me in next time there’s another tournament on. Nessa would be incredibly chuffed if I got into watching her matches more.”
“Would be my pleasure,” Hop replied cheerily. It had been fun to watch with Sonia – perhaps a few more matches and she would open up about her past rivalry with Leon. He would have loved to see her measured, cerebral approach applied on the battlefield. He stood, fingering his phone in his pocket, and Sonia grinned at him. “Off to make a call?” she asked.
“If you don’t mind.” His eyes drifted to watch the screen go dark as the commentator was signing off. “Need to get to unpacking what we’ve just seen, the usual.”
Sonia nodded and stood with her slumbering Yamper clasped to her chest. “Of course.” She turned towards the back door that was, thankfully, slightly ajar. “Send my best!”
“Always do,” Hop shot back, already turning to dial. He strolled over to the back wall and leaned over it, arm dangling over the side. Gloria answered on the second ring, breathless and slightly echoey in the changing room. “Hop!” she cried. “Thanks for the text!”
Hop laughed quietly. “You’re welcome. Not like you needed it.” He turned his eyes towards the sky. “Great match! The last one especially – Nessa’s going to have to employ more than a half-ground type as her wildcard to get anywhere near you.”
“Ah, she’s amazing.” Hop could clearly picture the self-effacing wave of her hand. “It’s always a pleasure to battle her. All the leaders have their own quirks and eccentricities – the fun is in figuring them out and how to get round them.”
Hop nodded. “Yeah,” he said, when he realised she couldn’t see that. “Like a puzzle. You’d think I’d have been better at it.” They both laughed, and Hop felt himself relax. It was so easy with her.
“Anyway,” she continued. “We’ll be getting in at around 8:30 – you’ll be there to meet us, won’t you?”
Hop froze. “Meet you? Where? Who’s we?” he asked.
There was a long pause at the other end of the line. “Um, myself and Bede? At the station?” She ventured at last. “We’ll be in Postwick tonight?”
“I’m sorry, what?” Hop took the phone away from his ear to speak directly into the microphone on the top. “What are you on about?”
“Oh wow.” Gloria cleared her throat. “Uh, okay – I figured you already knew, because Bede got onto Sonia first? But he’s coming to our neck of the woods to do some study about Fairy-types in the Slumbering Weald for a month or so, and he asked Sonia to help out with resources and stuff? He got in touch a couple of weeks ago.”
Hop was stunned into silence for a long moment, head spinning. Bede, here? In Postwick – in the Slumbering Weald himself and Gloria held so dear? His relationship with the fellow was complicated; they had managed to leave the past behind them to the extent that Hop didn’t pull a face at the mere sight of him anymore. Bede and Gloria were close friends – or as close as one could be to Bede – and so Hop often ended up spending more time with him than he ever would have of his own volition. Hop could manage that; could manage having a drink with him in a group of three or four and not going for the jugular when he said something arrogant or disparaging. He didn’t know if he could manage weeks with him one-on-one, watching him traipse around his hometown and poking into the secrets of the Slumbering Weald.
“Hop?” he was startled back to reality by Gloria, sounding a little concerned now. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you, like I said it’s something I assumed Sonia would have mentioned and it just never came up. He’s staying with my mum – we have a spare room and she’s always delighted to have company, so it’s not like he’ll be hanging around Wedgehurst in the evenings or anything.” Luckily, Hop no longer lived with his mother in Postwick; while he worked only just up the road from his childhood home, at 21 and with a full-time job it seemed about time he found a place of his own. He rented a one-bedroom apartment above the now-closed boutique in Wedgehurst. The previous owner had been the little old lady who had also run the shop; when she had grown too frail to live alone she had moved out to live with her daughter in Motostoke. The family had been happy to rent her previous lodgings to Hop at a reasonable price, him being a local they had known for years. The apartment was small, with only two rooms - a living room-cum-kitchen and a bedroom - and somewhat old-fashioned, with a deep red shag carpet and wooden panelling in the front room, but Hop loved the place. He had made it his own, with his faded Pokémon League posters on the walls and Wooloo-patterned bedding on the rickety single bed. It was home.
“Hop?” Gloria asked again, and Hop shook his head. He could be professional about this – if Bede was coming to study the Slumbering Weald, this was work for him. As long as they didn’t stray too far outside that scope they would be alright. He could do it, for Gloria and for Sonia.
“Sorry, sorry Gloria,” he replied at last, pressing a hand to his forehead. “It’s fine. Was just a bit taken by surprise, that’s all.” He sighed. “Look, I can’t say I’m thrilled at the prospect but it’s my job to be civil and help him out, isn’t it? Would be a pretty pants professor if I refused to lend a hand to someone in furthering their knowledge just because they got on my tits a bit, wouldn’t I?” His smile returned as he spoke. Honestly, Bede’s topic of study sounded pretty interesting; he was sure they would have plenty to discuss around it and would have no reason resort to petty squabbling as long as they both remembered why they were there.
“Oh, Hop, thank you.” He could hear the relieved sag of her shoulders in her tone. “You are the best professor ever.”
“Professor’s assistant, at least for now,” he corrected with a small laugh. “You don’t need to thank me, Gloria. I’ll behave myself provided Bede does too.”
“Oh, stop it. Of course he will. He’s a nice guy, you should give him more of a chance.” Hop opened his mouth, his lips forming the shape of a snarled retort, only to sigh instead. No point getting off on the wrong foot with this. “Sure,” he responded at last. “Anyway, what’s the plan tonight?”
“Well, we’ll be getting into Wedgehurst at around 8:30,” Gloria replied. “Then I said I would cook dinner at my place? Mum is away until tomorrow – using a package deal I got as a thank you for an endorsement from the Rose Hotel – so I’m going to crash at home with Bede and then head out early in the morning. He’s going to get up with me and head out to the lab to meet with you and Sonia to discuss what he wants to do.” She paused, allowing that to sink in. “Sorry I can’t stick around longer. Busy, busy.”
“Nah, sure what would you be doing? I get it.” He had to smile at her apologetic tone – he knew if she could stay and supervise to ensure they made an effort to get along, she absolutely would. Hop knew she would love if he and Bede were to become friends – perhaps this was fate.
“Anyway,” Gloria broke the silence, obviously aware Hop had drifted into his own thoughts again. “See you tonight?”
“Yeah,” Hop replied. “See you tonight.”
***
The sun was just beginning to set when Hop headed out to the station. It was always a breathtaking sight, the rolling hills of Wedgehurst and Postwick dark blotches against the majesty of the glowing pink-orange sky. Hop paused to observe it, hands jammed in his pockets. Just down the hill he could make out the neon lights of the station glowing ominously, lying in wait. He shivered, in both the cool evening breeze and anticipation of what was to come, and pulled out his phone to check the time – 20:24. No point being late, he would only be delaying the inevitable and invoking Gloria’s wrath. He had even gotten off from work early – he suspected Sonia felt guilty for forgetting that his former nemesis would be around town for a few weeks starting tomorrow. She had been so flustered when he had told her. She had been so busy when he had called, she’d said, and once the conversation had finished her promise had gone right out of head. Hop had been magnanimous: he had had time to accept that it was happening and there was nothing that could be done. He was determined to be mature about the whole thing.
As he made his way down the cobblestone street, he could see the lights of the train approaching in the distance. He was struck with the picture of Gloria and Bede sitting opposite one another, chatting and showing each other stupid shite on their phones, the same way himself and Gloria had so very long ago on that first trip to Motostoke. He ground his teeth together, annoyed at the prick of jealousy that accompanied that image. Don’t be stupid. Bede’s friendship with Gloria would never be as deep as the bond Hop and her shared. Getting territorial would not prove a warm welcome.
He headed into the swinging gates at the entrance just at the train pulled up to the platform. The station was fairly empty, as always, save for the handful of people waiting in the reception area. Passengers trickled out, into the arms of loved ones or hurrying on their respective ways. Hop strained until he caught sight of a flash of white-blond. He barely had time to register it as Bede before Gloria was in his line of vision, waving wildly before careening into his arms.
“Hey Gloria,” he greeted, wrapping his arms around her. The moment was so supremely normal that for a second, he forgot completely about the bizarre situation he was in and just enjoyed holding his best friend.
That couldn’t last, however, and eventually he had to release her and step back to regard Bede lingering behind her. Even when not bound to his gym uniform, he tended towards pink – Opal’s legacy, Hop supposed. Tonight, he donned a rose-coloured jumper and pale blue jeans, his long, white-blond hair brushed back into a loose ponytail. The single diamond earring he wore, dangling on a golden chain, glimmered in the fluorescent lighting of the station interior. Hop realised with a jolt he had not even begun to consider how stark and strange Bede would appear against the pastel greens and greys of his hometown. He was surreal, an accidental splotch of electric pink on a careless artist’s quaint countryside watercolour.
“Hop.” Bede moved forward, his hand extended in greeting. Hop shook himself from his reverie to grasp it, careful to meet Bede’s eyes and ignore Gloria’s stern look.
“Hiya, Bede,” he replied, shaking his hand before returning his own to his pockets. “Good… good to see you.”
“Likewise.” Bede’s lip curled, as though enjoying some private joke, and Hop had to bite back a snide retort. Give him a chance. Like he hadn’t given him ample chances already – it had been 7 years, and Hop was still unable to warm to him. That had to mean something. They stood for a moment, sizing each other up, before Gloria took Bede’s arm and gestured towards the doorway with her free hand.
“Come on you two,” she insisted, tugging on Bede’s sleeve. “I don’t know about you Bede, but I’m beat. Let’s get some food on and settle in.”
Bede smiled angelically back at her. “Sounds heavenly.” Hop supressed the urge to roll his eyes at that contrived posh accent and dug his hands deeper into his pockets to trail after them towards Postwick.
It was going to be a long month.