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Circhester was unlike anything you had ever seen before.
Snowflakes drifted slowly from the sky, brushing over the city with a crispy new layer of snow. The cold nighttime air was serene, moving languidly over your exposed cheekbones and fingertips and leaving you slightly shuddering.
A hum of gentle music floated softy in the breeze, sounding quite melancholy and tearful.
You lean over the railing on the higher point of the city, eyes taking in the scene of the city of snow. The sensation of snowflakes grazes your skin with a soft nip, melting away and leaving you yearning for more than that gossamer touch.
You close your eyes to eternalize this memory, the sweet and delicate song echoing in the distance and the soft glow of nighttime snow flurries dancing before your eyes.
It is times like these, where you’re away from the crowds and cheering of fans, do you get the time to reflect on your journey.
The beginning of this trek seemed so long ago. The hazy memories of Postwick and its endless expanse of green fields leave you feeling bittersweet.
As much as you miss home and the feeling of waking up at home in your soft bed, the smell of freshly cooked omlettes wafting from the kitchen, you’ve been beginning to ponder the end of your journey.
The heights and lulls of your adventure fill you with purpose, and every morning you wake up with a mission in mind.
Other times, when the excitement dies down and the sun begins to dwindle behind the horizon, you can set up your tent and lay under the stars, counting the specks of light until the coos of your pokemon lull you to sleep.
That is something that, with all its glorious, warm sunshine and creaking cottage houses, Postwick cannot give you.
You watch as one by one, houses lining the streets illuminate with life from the inside. Families come together for supper, their shadows dancing across the cobblestone path lined with a thin layer of snow.
You wonder if you’re selfish for not wanting to return home- not wanting this chapter of your life to be over so soon.
Tomorrow was the day you were scheduled to battle Melony, the Ice type gym leader and sixth hurdle to completing your Pokemon Gym Challenge.
You think back to your first challenge against Milo, and wonder why you’re not feeling the same jittery feeling in your stomach.
The first night before your first gym battle, you were kept awake by the visions of battle and victory. You recall recounting the potential battle strategies you could use against the grass type leader in your sleep, which led to a night of tossing and turning in Bedew Hotel.
You sigh, your breath making small puffs of clouds in the air. You look down, clenching and unclenching your fists to get blood flowing back into your fingers.
There had been a lot you encountered in your travels, all of which would’ve never found had you stayed in your hometown.
You had the chance to step into the battle arena, the stadium pumped full of life and vivacity that made your ears ring and heart swell. The cries of millions watching from home set your soul ablaze, and the urge to pursue your dreams had never been stronger.
Amidst your challenge, you met many new and beautiful souls, both in battles and in passing. Each had their own stories and dreams to follow, burning with the passion of life.
Their voices rang in your ears as you crept through the dusty Galar mines and scaled the Turrfield ruins, the experiences lives bleeding into yours and coloring you with wonder and devotion.
Many days as you waded through the wild area, you wondered if the sun ever burned so bright back at home. With enough warmth to sear your skin, warm your bones and bleach the heavens with nothing but clear, blue skies.
Every night, you find yourself in awe that the starry night sky expanded so far over the horizon, deep, dark and heavy. You always question if it’s the same sky you see through your little window at home, hanging humbly over your desk in a wooden frame.
As the snow falls upon your face, you turn skyward, beholding the moon in all its lustrous, ephemeral beauty. It drips with tantalizing fullness, the light spilling over to speckle stars into the unfathomably darkening night. It hangs heavily in the inky blackness, as if even the skies aren’t large enough to hold it up.
You catch yourself thinking about who you were, and who you are. You wonder if the journey has allowed you to grow too much, too large for your modest little hometown.
The crisp sound of snow underfoot breaks the spell of silence, but you don’t need to look to know who it is.
A violet haired boy leans on the barristrade beside you, a relaxed smile stretching across his face and lighting his eyes.
“Fancy catching you out here,” He teases. “Pondering the mysteries of the universe?”
You see him staring at you from the periphery of your vision. You kick at the snow by the ledge, watching it fall into the fountain underneath.
“Not quite, but I was getting there before you came along.”
Hop laughed, and it was bold and rectifying. It echoed off the brick walls and concrete statues to warm your heart, and soon your cheeks.
“A right ruckus you are. How can you stand out here for so long and still have mysteries unsolved?”
You stutter, feeling quite abashed he had called you out on your glooming. “It hasn’t been that long! I was just… Admiring the view.”
Hop’s smile softens, and in the warm yellow light of the streetlamps, his eyes look like dark pools of swirling honey.
The way he carries himself is new, yet familiar. You know he’s the same Hop that left Postwick with you all those months ago, and yet seeing him like this reminds you that you have not been the only one growing.
His exuberant flame is still there, licking at the edges of his smile and playing at the corners of his eyes. But somehow, he seems more mellow, more willing to stop for a second before surging forwards like the freight engine you’ve always known.
They’re all small shifts, but bring you comfort nonetheless, knowing you’re not the only one who may feel out of place. Hop’s the one thing in your adventures that remained constant despite change, as sturdy as an anchor in the raging sea.
When you look at him in the dull glow of the moon, you feel like you have a fragment home in your hands. You see tanned skin and the sun-kissed freckles that faintly pepper his cheeks, a signature mark of a Postwick Wooloo herder. It contrasts greatly with the snow that has settled onto his hair and the fur lining his denim jacket, as Postwick doesn’t often have cold seasons.
“What are you doing out here, anyways?” You ask.
Hop peers over the rising, and then up at the sky. “I was looking for you.”
Your heart throbs at the way he speaks so candidly. “For me? Don’t you think I can handle myself, now?”
He chokes, and waves his hands. “No, that’s not what I meant! What I mean to say is…”
He places a hand on the nape of his neck, now his turn to feel embarrassed. “It’s a force of habit, I guess? It was always my job to fetch you before supper back in Postwick, before you got your first pokemon.”
You grin and give him a bit of a shove with your shoulder to let him know you were joking. He stumbles a tad, but recovers quickly with a mirthful smile, gladly settling back into his place next to you.
“It’s been a while, huh?” You say.
Hop leans heavily on the balustrade, crossing one long leg behind the other. “More than a while. I still remember how you cried when I caught my Wooloo, you were so worried I’d leave for the pokemon challenge without you.”
You laughed at the memory, but the distance between then and now makes you a bit teary-eyed.
“Would you have?”
Hop smiled at the thought, but shook his head. “No, I’ve always known I wanted to start the challenge with you as my rival. But I’ll admit, I really thought I was ready to take on the world at the time, just my level three Wooloo and me.”
You giggled and he reddened, though you were unsure if it was from the cold or being flustered.
“Thanks, Hop. That means a lot to me. I wouldn’t rather have anyone else by my side for this wild ride.”
He grins at you, taken aback and flattered all at once. “Oh, geez. I’m real glad to hear you say that, but don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you said that!”
“Drat, I thought flattery would work for sure this time.”
You roll your eyes and subconsciously lean into him a bit more for warmth, though it doesn’t go unnoticed by him.
He blushes, a deep red reaching the tips of his ears and sticking a lump in his throat. He swallows thickly, and doesn’t say anything for the longest time.
You watch as the moon silhouettes the lightpoles in the air, overtaking their light with its own. Hop notices your silence, gives you a small smile.
“What have you been thinking about?” He asks, breaking the stillness.
You pull back from him, and you think you see a flash of disappointment across his face, but it’s gone as soon as it came.
“What do you mean?”
Hop shakes his head at you, the snow in his hair catching the illumination of the moon and making him seem almost otherworldly. “You’ve been gone since we finished eating dinner with Sonia. There’s not much sightseeing to do here, especially after the sun sets.”
You look at the city again to confirm his words, and find that he’s right. You’ve been moping about on your lonesome in the drape of the night, thinking about the inevitable end to the story you’ve waited so long to experience.
You figure that if anyone else can understand you, it’s Hop, the boy who’s grown up beside you all your life.
“Do you ever not want this to end?” You ask, snowflakes catching on your eyelashes and melting away just as quickly.
Hop doesn’t speak, and you take this as a sign to continue.
“This is the most I’ve ever seen of the world, and it’s far more beautiful than anything I could’ve ever imagined. I want to keep feeling the wind in my hair when I take flying taxis to the next gym, and I want to always feel the sand brewing into a storm in the battle arena. I want to keep meeting new people, meeting new goals and making new aspirations. I don’t ever want to stop chasing this dream, but I know that I’m going to catch up to it one day. And what happens then? “
You turn to him, your eyes sparkling alongside all the stars in the sky. “I don’t know if I’ll ever belong in Postwick anymore, or anywhere at all for that matter. The stars reach too far, and the sun moves too quickly for me to just go home and watch them when I know I could be out here, running after them.”
You shudder, the cold air nipping at your skin through your thin jacket. “Every step forwards feels like a step backwards, too. The closer I get to finishing this challenge, the sooner I know I’ll have to go back home.”
Your shoulders slump, and you can’t help but sigh softly, dejectedly. Mist collects in the night air at your exhale, and evaporates.
You’re surprised to feel something thick and heavy descend upon your shoulders, cocooning you in warmth and the familiar scent of pine. You look up, and your cheek brushes worn Wooloo fur.
“Hop, you’ll catch a cold.” You say, moving to shrug off his denim jacket. But he places his hand on your back, firmly holding the jacket in place. He gives you a smile and it’s enough for you to drop your efforts.
“Keep it on, you’re shivering.”
You keep eye contact with him a beat too long, but he doesn’t say anything when you turn away.
For a long moment, you wonder if he would respond and feel silly for asking him these things. When he speaks again, his voice clear in the crisp snowfall, you’re taken by surprise.
“I think every adventure is richest with a definite ending. It means we achieved what we set out to do.” He says.
“But the most important part's gotta be finding new pieces of yourself to explore, and that’ll never expire. You’re right, we may be done with this part of our journey, but now we know what drives our hearts. Without going through this, we would never know how many more stories lie ahead, ready for us to learn from.”
Hop turns to you, eyes gleaming, drawing you in.
“And I don’t know about you, but it means the world to me that I get to go on my first big adventure with my closest friend. It helped me realize that I have a lot to learn from other people, and a lot to learn from you, too.”
You feel your heart twinge and pulse quicken at the tone in his voice. You divert your eyes to the buildings behind Hop instead, unable to bear his intensity, and take in the lights dwindling with silhouettes of families ready to sleep. He presses on, voice bordering almost on a whisper now.
“I can’t wait to become the person I’m meant to be, (y/n). And I can’t wait to see the person you’ll become too. I really want to tell you all the things I know I’ll be amazed by in the future, but even more than that, I want you to be there beside me, like now, so we can both learn from it together. I know there’s so much more out there for the both of us.”
Your eyes prick with tears, and the moon and the stars and the streetlights all blur together into one large and glistening mosaic.
“Hop… Thank you. I don’t think you know how much I needed to hear that right now.”
You reach up and brush away your tears, blood rushing in your ears when you realized Hop’s hand never left your back.
“I’ve just been so worried about everything. The challenge, our sponsors, and that strange gigantamax energy showing up everywhere. But now that the end seems so close, I was worried I’d be left unfulfilled.”
Every inhale you take smells like him, and it’s calming and electrifying at the same time. The stars twinkling overhead seemed dull in comparison to the glint in hazel eyes, shining with endless ambition yet such patience.
“But?” He asked, a puff of cold mist trailing from his lips, beckoning.
“You were right. There is more for us out there, more than either of us could begin to imagine. And I can’t wait to see it all.”
He smiles again, softly. Dimples push at his cheeks, and you suddenly really want to hold his hand. So you do.
His fingers are rough from years of wrestling Wooloo, but his hands are still large and warm. When you slip your hand into his, he doesn’t hesitate to thread his fingers through yours, and it’s a perfect fit.
You sneak a glance up at him again, and this time it’s his turn to be abashed. His cheeks are tinged pink, and his gaze is directed towards the water, the soft rippling casting a calm glow on his frame.
“Hop?”
He startles at your voice, and you can barely hold back a chuckle.
“Hm? Yeah?”
“Did you mean what you said before? About us?”
He pulls his gaze back to you, face still flushed but voice thick with earnestness.
“Of course I meant it.”
The words swell a happiness in your stomach, and you look up at him, admiring the unruliness of his hair and the softness of his features basking in the nighttime sky, contrasted by a pair of sunny yellow eyes that speckled like amber in the dark.
Then you really looked at him.
You looked into his eyes and saw gold, as vivid and overflowing as the wheat fields back in Postwick you both spent years running up and down in autumn. You saw endless humid summers of climbing trees and splashing in lakes, you saw the boy who picked you up and carried you home when you slipped on the stairs just outside the village, and the boy who you got into a fist fight for because someone called his hair funny.
You looked at him and recounted all these memories, of the times you had laughed together, and cried together. When you looked at him, you saw your rock, your inspiration and your best friend- perhaps now, something even more.
You reached up to brush a hand against his cheek, skin cold then blossoming with warmth under your touch.
He leans into your palm, eyes burning and never leaving your own.
The moon hung low in the sky now, full and heavy with a pearlescent sheen that inked your shadows into the stone floor, standing closer now than ever before.
Hop whispered your name, the warm air washing over you and drawing goosebumps. You hummed in response, much too lost in your trance to respond with words.
“I'm really glad we're here right now.”
A knot closes in your throat and a gentle warmth spreads across your face at the sincerity of his words. You’re not sure how to respond, so you just draw yourself closer to him. He dips his head to meet you halfway, and in a single slow and blissful moment, the space between you and Hop dwindles down to zero.
His lips are soft and chaste, moving with a slow and tender languidness that made your legs wobble and knees buckle. You grip at his shirt for support and he responds by pulling you flush against him, arm looping around your waist and the other hand still sweetly holding onto yours.
When it ends, you’re both breathless and red in the cheeks.
He rests his forehead on yours and his eyes are deep and endless; pupils blown and hair askew, tickling your face and blushing your cheeks.
The snow nipping at your clasped hands is a reminder that the universe is moving everywhere around you. Yet time feels slowed and perfect, and the world, though large, seems to fit lovingly intertwined between your fingers.
Your bodies are languorous and barely want to untangle, but Hop laughs at the snow collected in your hair. You wonder how even in the cold night, his laughter is full and round and warm. You can feel his body, pressed against yours, trembling from the cold without his denim jacket. You tease him for this, but do it with a grateful smile while wrapped in the scent of Hop.
The night had grown long and with it came the dropping temperatures.
“Let’s head back to Ionia Hotel, we should get some rest before taking down Melony tomorrow, don't you reckon?” Hop asks cheekily, despite his tousled hair and labored breathing.
You want to poke fun at him some more, but bite your tongue. Instead, you nod and began your trek together with him, hands still linked and hearts ever pounding under the cape of the shimmering, expanding night sky, and look to the future.