Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Every kid gets their own Pokemon at ten years old, it's basically a world renowned rule. Some people get theirs younger, if it's a family Pokemon, or an offspring of a Pokemon owned by a family member, or sometimes, a family member catches a Pokemon specifically for them. 

Tommy turns ten tomorrow, and he cannot wait to get his very own Pokemon. He hasn't stepped foot outside the orphanage in a while, maybe one of the caregivers will take him to the Professor─or, the Professor will come here and let him choose from Cyndaquil, Chikorita and Totodile, the region's very own designated starter Pokemon. 

Unless his caregivers take him out into the wild, and let him choose one of those Pokemon. It'll be more difficult, since it isn't tamed, but he'll enjoy the challenge. In case his caregivers have forgotten, with all of the kids ranging from younger than him to teenagers they have to take care of, he reminds them throughout the day, following them around like a ducklett to its mother.

"I don't know which one to get, Miss Puffy. They're all so cool, and cute! Which do you think?" He asks his favorite caregiver, who's somewhat new to the job. She's doing the washing, and is too kind to tell him to give her some space; it's a hard job, after all, with long hours.

"What are you talking about again, kid?" She asks with a heavy exhale, closing the washing machine and turning to him. She straightens her posture and sighs, brushing her curls out of her face and wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead.  

Tommy pouts, puffing out his cheeks and narrowing his eyes. "My starter Pokemon, for tomorrow! It'll be my birthday, and I don't know which Pokemon to choose!" He reminds her, talking like it's the end of the world and his decision is incredibly important. 

She blinks, and recollects her thoughts which have practically melted away in the unbearable heat. They have ice Pokemon acting as air conditioning, and she needs to get back to those areas as soon as possible. "Uh... Yeah, what are they again─Totodile? Yeah, he seems like a nice guy," she says, gently pushing him aside so she could walk past. 

He pondered on it for a moment. Totodile is a water type, he doesn't have a preference for types, Totodile is more cool than cute. All three of them have powerful evolutions, there's no wrong answer. 

He knows what to do; he'll ask every one of his caregivers for an answer, and whoever has the most votes, he'll choose!

So, he spent the rest of the day tracking down his caregivers and stopping them in the middle of their duties to ask a very important question. "Who should I pick as my starter?" And he'd show them a drawn tally of the three Pokemon, with badly drawn portraits in crayon. 

They couldn't say no. Sam chose Chikorita, so did Hannah. Foolish chose Totodile, Boomer picked Cyndaquil and so did Skeppy. In the end, the results were a three-way tie, leaving him without a clear answer.

"Oh, come on!" He ripped off the paper, rolled it into a ball, and threw it at the bin. 

He was alone in the bedroom, which other than right now, he didn't have all to himself. There were fifteen beds in total, yet he hadn't made a single friend in the ten whole years he's been here. It's fine, his starter Pokemon will be his first friend─which is why it matters so much. It's not just a Pokemon to train and to use to fight, it's a lifelong friend from the moment you meet, and you choose them, and they choose you.

That's it! He'll just go out and find his own Pokemon, and befriend them. Tomorrow, on his tenth birthday, he'll befriend his very own starter Pokemon, and he cannot wait to meet them. 

Of course, he tells everyone the great news. He starts with Puffy, who has collapsed on a chair underneath a Vanilluxe, fanning herself off. He shakes her chair, then tugs on her sleeve, but her eyes don't open. "Miss Puffy! I made my decision, I'm gonna venture into the wilderness, find my own Pokemon, and go on an adventure!"

That's what he's heard, at least, that ten year olds start their adventures as soon as their birthday. It's not the case nowadays, people are much more cautious about the world around them, especially parents. The standard has been raised to twelve and upwards, but that doesn't matter, he's strong enough, and even stronger with his Pokemon. 

Puffy has a wet cloth draped over her face, still recovering from the heat, she pays no mind to Tommy or his ramblings, which goes in one ear and straight out the other. "Alright, uh huh, you go do that, kid," she says, dismissively waving her hand. He takes that as her approval, and leaves her to rest.

As he bolts down the corridor, he passes Sam walking with his Herdier, Fran. "Sam! Sam!" He exclaims, skidding to a halt, he jumps about, practically bouncing off the walls. "I know what I'm gonna do, I'm gonna start my own adventure! Tomorrow, I'm leaving this place all on my own!" 

He's confused when Sam laughs at him, brushing it off as him simply being excited for his birthday. If he pulls a few strings, he could possibly get the Pokemon Professor to drop by, even though the orphans aren't allowed to have their own Pokemon. There have been instances when they've gotten Pokemon to be brought here for the day, and the kids are absolutely thrilled, but saddened when the day ends and the Pokemon have to leave.

It's why the caregivers have their own Pokemon out in the open so much, so that the kids can play with them. "Uh huh, that sounds great, Tommy, which Pokemon are you planning to get?"

"The first one I can find!" He exclaims, and runs off, disappearing around the corner. Sam laughs, he doesn't think for a single moment that he's being serious. He brushes it off, and resumes his duties. 

The day comes to an end, and Tommy can hardly contain his excitement. The other kids in his room are fast asleep, but he sits on his bed, wrapped up in his blanket, and stares out the window, admiring the starry night sky from afar. One day, he'll soar the sky with his Pokemon, and he'll touch a star. He always wondered what it felt like, or tasted like. He can already feel its sharp edges on his fingertips, he'll steal one for himself, no one will notice it's missing. 

He pans around the room of sleeping children. No one will notice him missing. There are kids far older than ten, who do not have their own Pokemon. If he wants one for himself, he'll have to catch it.

Morning comes with the smell of freshly cooked breakfast, and winged Pokemon of all kinds perched on the tree branches singing a harmonious tune. Sam makes his way to one of the many bedrooms in the orphanage, Fran walking right beside him. He cannot get Tommy his own Pokemon, he cannot go on his own adventure, but upon pulling a few strings with the help of his co-workers, he has convinced the Pokemon Professor to pay the orphanage a visit.

They do everything they can to keep the kids feeling content. They help train supporter Pokemon on some weekends, they play with the workers' Pokemon, andmthere have been a few instances where they've nursed a wild, injured Pokemon back to health and then released it into the wild. They even have teachers tell them everything to know about Pokemon. All to help fill the gap of not having their own, but in reality, the desire only increased.

Sam knocks on the door, he doesn't hear a reply, then pushes it open. He's surprised to see that all of the kids have left already, the room is empty. His eyes land on Tommy's bed, his name carved into the end of the bed and painted over in gold. He's sleeping in, as usual.

Sam clears his throat, reciting his words in his head as he approaches. "Tommy! I have great news, the Pokemon Professor is paying us a visit!" 

He doesn't get a response. Tommy's blanket is pulled over his head, he's not moving. "Come on, Tommy, aren't you excited about what he'll bring?" He waits patiently for him to get up, but again, he doesn't make a sound. Fran impatiently puts her two front paws on the bed frame, bites the blanket, and pulls it off. 

Sam is about to scold her, when he notices that instead of Tommy, there's a pillow on the bed. In fact, Tommy is nowhere in sight.

"Tommy?" He checks under the bed, in case he's playing a prank, it wouldn't be the first time. He isn't there, or anywhere else in the whole room; not in the wardrobes, or anyone else's bed. 

He brushes it off as him waking up early, perhaps he already knew about the surprise. He pays no mind to the window being left wide open, assuming someone else came in and opened it for some fresh air. "Come on, Fran," he decides to search the orphanage, just in case. 

He asks the other children, half of them don't even know who Tommy is, and none of them have any clue where he's gone. He continues to play it off as one of Tommy's pranks, he checks the garden, then the yard; it's wide, but there's no tall grass or anywhere for him to hide, and the entire orphanage is fenced off. 

Then, he finds a small hole in the wooden fence, one of the wooden planks is loose, and is easily lifted up to reveal a gap large enough for a child of Tommy's size to fit through. There's a red thread caught on the nail, not only the colour of his shirt, but his wool blanket. Fran sticks her head through the gap, and whines. Tommy is nowhere to be found. 

Onlookers murmur to each other as he dashes through the halls, Fran right behind him. His eyes lock onto Puffy, minding her own business, her Wooloo trotting alongside her. He skids to a halt, and grabs her by her shoulders. "Tommy's escaped," he says between breaths. It hasn't happened in years; the last times the kid was easily tracked down by air patroll, they sent out their best Pokemon to track them down by scent. Most times, kids left tracks. 

The murmurs grow louder, kids have paused whatever they were doing and shifted their attention to him. If word spreads, it could encourage more kids to flee, even though the vast majority are happy here, they seek adventure, something more to life. He should've caught on sooner, he just didn't think Tommy had the guts. 

Puffy places her hand on his and his shoulders fall. "Sam, are you sure? Last time he just fell asleep in the washing basket after playing hide-and-seek," she says with uncertainty. Sure, the thread could've belonged to someone else, he could be somewhere in the orphanage right now, minding his own business. 

"I've searched everywhere, Puffy," he tells her, breathless. There's clear panic in his expression, his hands are shaking. Out of everyone, why Tommy? He's ten, he may be tall for his age but he's fragile, he doesn't stand a chance. Realization settles in Puffy's face, followed by fear. "We have to find him, you have to help me." 

He couldn't have gone far, he must be in the town. Someone will hopefully notice a ten year old all on his own, not even a Pokemon to protect him. Hopefully they'll notice his golden badge with an engraving of the orphanage, and bring him back safely. One way or another, they'll find him.

"Whoa…" the town is stunning. He isn't allowed to visit the town, the closest he gets to is the backyard, wide paddocks and fresh crops, and it's great; but the town is even better. It's filled with people and their Pokemon, crossing the streets, entering stores, sitting outside of cafès, he adores how lively it is. 

He won't find his Pokemon here, though. He knows that the majority of wild Pokemon freely roam open fields, lakes and the depths of the ocean, and lurk in tall grass. They enjoy the wild. Sure, some enjoy the city life, and can be found in alleyways, in trees, or are simply exploring the city in awe, like he is. 

Peeking out of the alleyway behind him, is a Mew. It tilts its head, curiously looking him up and down. A human boy, wrapped up like a cocoon in a soft, red wool blanket. It ducks back into the alleyway, changes its form to a Riolu, and runs at him. 

"Hey!"

It snatches his blanket, and keeps running down the sidewalk, dragging it across the dirty ground. Tommy's horrified by the sight, more concerned for his blanket getting ruined than discovering a Riolu. "Give that back, thief!" So, he chases after it. 

He follows it through sharp turns, crowds of people, across the road; which results in him almost getting hit by a car. Water splashes over him and his badge detaches, falling into the puddle in the middle of the road. He doesn't stop, he refuses, he can't let Riolu get away with his blanket. "When I catch you, I'm gonna─" 

He successfully grabs the end of the blanket, just when his legs were starting to hurt and his lungs cried for air. The bright smile across his face doesn't last for long. He makes sure he has a strong grip, holding on with both his hands. He looks up at Riolu, about to tug the blanket out of its grip, when something impossible happens.

Riolu meets his eyes, snickers, and transforms into a Braviary. This was never mentioned in Pokemon class. It grabs the other end of the blanket with its talons, and takes off with him still holding on. 

He barely had enough time to register what he had seen, the next second he was suddenly in the air, clinging onto dear life. He screamed his lungs out, "help!!" This wasn't fun anymore. He wanted to go home, to the orphanage, he wanted to play with the Pokemon there, they were nice, and wouldn't try anything like this. 

Tears brimmed the corners of his eyes, he carefully climbed the blanket, and wrapped his arms around Braviary's neck. He cried, too afraid to look down. He closed his eyes and waited for someone to save him, or for the Braviary to land safely and he'll make a run for it. 

It squawks at him, he doesn't listen, it does it again. He reluctantly opens his eyes, and gasps. The town is even more beautiful from above, it leaves him speechless. Everyone looks so small... He laughs, blinking the tears away, his frown is replaced by a wide grin as he realizes he's actually flying. Just like he dreamed of. 

Suddenly, it isn't so scary anymore. He straightens his posture and outstretched his arms, feeling the wind blow through his hair. He's never done anything like this, he's been trapped behind doors, and fences for as long as he can remember, his whole life, probably. Now, more than ever, he feels alive. 

He doesn't get to ask Braviary to fly higher, so he can touch the clouds. Instead, it starts descending, and again he's clinging onto dear life, burying his head in its neck and feathers. He braces himself for landing, but his grip isn't tight enough, and following a sharp turn, he slides off. He doesn't realize it until he opens his eyes.

He screams as loud as he can and flails around. Braviary cries out, changes its direction and flies underneath him, allowing him to land on its back. He quickly holds on again, tighter this time, and can't help but laugh. He moves his hair out of his face, they're coming close to the ground now. 

In the middle of landing, a few inches off the ground, Braviary transforms into Goodra, and catches him, his blanket falling over him. Unless he missed something in class, regular Pokemon aren't supposed to change species at will. "What… are you?" 

Goodra smiles at him, then drops him and he lands with a thud. "Ow…" rubbing his back, his surroundings have changed. He's no longer inside the town, or any city, but a lush forest, he's surrounded by sunflowers and a large variety of beautiful flowers. They grow some flowers and crops at the orphanage, but nothing in comparison to this. 

He touches a sunflower, the ones at the orphanage aren't fully grown yet. They're gorgeous, and the same colour as his hair. He plucks it from the ground, it's too big to tuck behind his ear, so he holds it in his hands. "This is so cool! Why did you bring me here?" He turns to Goodra, catching it in the process of transforming again; it turns into a Pokemon he doesn't recognise. 

It's a pale pink, no wings, relatively small with a long, thin tail that broadens at the end. Its eyes are huge, they're blue, and it has a body shape somewhat like his; two long paws as feet, and two paws as ends, it floats standing upright. "What are you…?"

It responds with 'mew'! And he knows for a fact that all Pokemon respond with their names, or some iteration of it. He's never heard of such Pokemon before, especially not here, it must be rare. Changing into different Pokemon can't be common, either. "Hey! Did you wanna be my starter Pokemon?"

It tilts its head at him, puzzled. He digs through his pockets, and recalls he doesn't have any pokeballs, or anything to catch a Pokemon. So he extends out his hand, "please? You're so cool! I'm Tommy." 

Mew contemplates it for a moment, then takes his hand, and despite its small stature, it's surprisingly strong. It leads him through the fields. He has to shield his face as grass stems slap across his face, he almost trips over a few stones, and he can hear Pokemon rummaging around him. Once they've stopped, he opens his eyes.

They've reached a clearing; a large radius of tall grass was flattened by something. When he lifts his head and stares ahead, he finds the culprit. "Whoa!" It's another Pokemon he doesn't recognize. Either he fell asleep in class, or he keeps running into rare Pokemon. "You're huge!"

The Pokemon resembles a wingless dragon, its body is white with a grey underside. Its pointed feet are tipped with hooves, it has a long mane jutting away from its head. It turns to look at him, its face is grey, with green eyes and red pupils, and a green circular pattern below its eyes. It's knelt down, Mew flies straight towards it and though it can't talk English, it clearly wants him to follow. 

He cautiously does so, unable to resist the urge to touch its golden cross-like wheel attached to its body by its round abdomen; there are four jewels attached to it. Its lone, jagged tail slowly sways side to side, and then, it speaks. "A human boy? Mew, who is this?" It talks English in a low, masculine voice.

It's one thing for a Pokemon to transform into other species, it's another for one to speak English. He's starting to believe this could be a dream, it doesn't disappoint him too much, because this is one hell of a dream and he is living for it. In fact, he never wants to wake up. "You can talk!! I didn't think that was possible─what's your name?" 

He stands before Arceus, and has to tilt his head way back to meet its gaze. It's ginormous, the biggest Pokemon he has ever seen, or heard of. He is tiny in comparison to it. 

It ponders on its answer for a moment. It has never seen a human, let alone a child, up close in thousands of years. It questions what force, what fate brought him to it. "Arceus, my name is Arceus, and you are?"

He grins from ear-to-ear, his eyes lighting up, he tightly grips the sunflower in his hands. "Tommy, and I choose you!"

Chapter Text

Technoblade does not enjoy company. His time as the reigning champion has long left him, he relaxes in his humble abode atop a snowy mountain peak, and he is happy there, with his Pokemon. Phil visits now and again, they don't do much aside from talking about what each other have been up to, drink hot cocoa and discuss their Pokemon, whom they care for very much.

Aside from Phil, he doesn't see anybody else. There are often trainers who attempt to scale the mountain, and he has become a legend, a cryptid of sorts, because of this. They have spotted a silhouette in the distance, blurred by the snowstorm. He keeps his distance, or else the rumors would be disproven and he'd reveal himself as a human. 

He doesn't care about becoming a myth, he only found out about it when Phil came over, and showed him a recent article on his rotom phone about the 'mysterious silhouette at Frost's peak.' They had a small laugh about it, and every now and again, Phil keeps him up to date on the matter.

When he steps outside his house with his beloved Beartic, otherwise known as Steve, to take him on a walk and perhaps do some training, he expects to stumble upon a mountain climber, as per usual. They rarely reach the mountain's peak. It's more believable for him to be a mysterious Pokemon of sorts than a person who has made the mountain his home, and has adapted to its freezing temperatures and unpredictable weather.

It's home, nonetheless, and he would do anything to protect it, especially from strangers. He's yet to encounter a mountain climber face to face, on one instance somebody did approach him out of curiosity, but Steve took care of it, using ice beam as a warning; and the mountain climber took it. More people have taken to climbing the mountain, but only to catch a glimpse of him; if they freeze out here, that's their own fault. 

He spends roughly twenty minutes playing with Steve in the snow, and training both agility by running laps around him, and strength by grappling with him, and attacking boulders with both his claws and attacks such as ice beam. It goes well, until Steve notices something in the distance, and roars. 

Techno turns around, expecting the beginning of an avalanche, or a wild Pokemon, it isn't particularly common, but possible. At first, he assumes the blurry figure heading their way is indeed a Pokemon, a rather small one, and he prepares for a battle. Or, he could do it himself. As it draws nearer, he can't decipher its kind, and he's studied the Pokemon of not only this region, but all of them.

The mental dots in his mind connect, and he pieces two and two again when he sees a dark shade of red, and he realizes it isn't the shell of a Pokemon, but a blanket, and underneath it is a human. Not only that, but a child. 

The child lifts his head up from under the blanket, which acts as his only shield. His blonde hair is covered in snowflakes, he's shivering, his bright blue eyes are concealed between half-lidded eyelids, and his skin is as pale as the snow itself. It is one thing for an adult to be foolish enough to come unprepared, but this is a defenseless child who is no older than the age of twelve. 

He isn't alone, underneath the blanket draped over him is a Zigzagoon, and a Quilava, who's flame stretching from its forehead, down its neck, and its tail flame is barely visible, weakly flickering. He takes action immediately, the boy is too weak to resist. 

"Steve! Take the Pokemon," he instructs, scooping up the boy, who falls unconscious and limp in his arms. Unlike him, Techno is dressed for the cold, he feels no more than light tingles under the thick layer of clothing. He unhooks his cape and wraps it around the boy, his blanket is far beyond repair, it's covered in ice and torn. 

He leaves it behind in the snow, and retreats to his house. 

He sets the boy carefully down on the couch, which he moves closer to the fireplace. His cape is still wrapped around him, and Techno keeps a wary eye on him for the next half an hour, pacing back and forth as he contemplates calling Phil. He can't carry him down the mountain, it'll take far too long, and he doesn't know whether his current condition is dire or not. 

He's never encountered this situation before. It's even harder to differentiate in his anxious state, biting at his chipped fingernails. He's about to message Phil on his rotom phone, which was given in the case of emergencies and he hasn't used it once, when he hears a cough. 

He rushes over to the boy's side, watching as he coughs and his small, fragile body jolts following every wheeze and sharp intake of air. Then, the boy's eyes open and he sits up, the cape falling. The boy looks around, dazed, and mumbles to himself, "where the hell am I…"

Steve is just as thrilled to see him alive, he lets out a roar, which startles the boy. 

"Hey, it's okay─" Techno tries to reassure him, but as soon as the boy turns his head and they lock eyes, he lets out a blood-curdling scream that hurts Techno's ears.

"I've been kidnapped!" The boy shrieks, and tries to jump off the couch, but his feet get entangled in the cape, and he drops to the floor. He's unharmed, but in a panic as he rushes to free himself, only worsening it in the process. "Where are my Pokemon, freak! You better not have hurt them!" 

Techno deeply sighs, he pinches the bridge of his nose and braces himself for the ridiculous extent of this predicament. "Your Pokemon are fine, they're resting in the other room," he assures bluntly, gesturing to an open door leading to said room. He then approaches the boy to lend a helping hand, but when he attempts to free him, he does something unpredictable; he bites his hand.

If he were anything but a young, scared child, he would've immediately gotten revenge, but he stops himself from yelling, which would cause Steve to become defensive and attack in his honor. Instead, he takes in his situation, and how the boy must feel. 

"You better not have rabies or something," he mutters as he leaves to run his hand under cold water and wrap it in a bandage. There's a visible marking, but there's no blood. His skin is thick, rough, thanks to the cold climate that's hardened it. "Will you calm down for one second? I saved a kid and this is the respect I get." 

The boy scoffs. "Saved me? I was fine!"

Techno pauses, he turns off the tap, and glances at Tommy. "You were on the verge of death." 

He doesn't know whether it was his nonchalant tone that almost sounded cold, or his blank expression and face that could, and has been, described as frightening. Either way, the boy tenses up, as the realization settles in and Techno recognizes the expression that appears on his face; fear. 

"How are you feeling?" He asks, chiming the small bell on the kitchen counter, which notifies his Vulpix to come over. It jumpes into his arms, and lit the stovetop. Then, with the jerk of his head, it ran to the boy. "What's your name?"

The boy flinches at the sound of approaching footsteps. Vulpix sticks its head out around the corner of the couch, and a smile spreads across his face. It bites the cape, and helps remove it from him. Then, he cautiously reaches out his hand, and pets its head. "I'm feeling okay, a little lightheaded… My name is Tommy."

Techno hums, dropping pumpkin cubes and pouring liquid chicken stock into a stockpot and slid on the lid. "Why exactly are you up on a mountain, Tommy? You're what, twelve? Surely you had some sense of impending doom," he huffed, taking out bacon from the fridge. 

Tommy gently brushes Vulpix as it sits on his lap. "I'm on my adventure as a Pokemon trainer," he answers casually, stroking Vulpix's head. "I wanted to see what was at the top, and my Pokemon were with me the entire time, so I wasn't scared."

The diced bacon sizzles in a frying pan, once crisp, Techno lays it on a plate lined with paper towel, placed there by Steve. "I thought trainers start their journeys when they're older," he responds, genuinely puzzled. That's what Phil told him, after taking a long sip of his coffee. It was determined that it was too dangerous for a ten year old to travel the world on their own, even with partner Pokemon. 

"I was eight when I started mine," Phil had said, leaning back in his chair. He had begun his journey at an early age, too, it was his destiny, after all. The path was already laid out before him. As soon as his name was chosen, his future was determined. They had both been champions at some point, Phil still was at the time of their conversation, and he himself had recently stepped down. 

His white sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing the deep scarring on both his arms. He adds onion to the pan, and stirs it until soft, then added ground cumin to the mixture. "You're twelve, right? Or thirteen." 

Tommy hummed. "Yep, turned thirteen… I'm not sure how long ago." 

It's said that people don't properly mature until the age of twenty-five, most people don't move out until the age of eighteen. Up until that age, a parent is meant to care and teach their child the rights and wrongs of the world, it is their job to protect and nurture them. They were right, the world is a very dangerous place, Tommy would not be alive if not for him. 

What would his parents assume, once he doesn't come home. Years could pass, and they'd assume he's traveling the world, living out his wildest dreams. They would live in ignorant bliss, oblivious to the world's ice cold grip. 

"I got my first Pokemon when I turned ten," Tommy said, lifting Vulpix up, the tip of its tongue hanging out its mouth. "What about you, big guy?" He could smell the food, it made his stomach churn and rumble. It's been so long since he's had a warm cooked meal. 

Techno is about to answer, he removes the pot from the stove and adds the onion mixture. He begins blending it until smooth, there's a rumble from the other room that stops him from speaking up. From the corner of his eye, he watches the Zigzagoon and Quilava race out, and almost slip on the red carpet on their way to Tommy. 

Tommy laughs as they jump into his arms, making him almost drop Vulpix. "You're okay!" He exclaims, grinning from ear-to-ear, and hugs them tightly. 

"Of course they're okay. What, don't you trust me?" Techno says the last part jokingly, Steve helps him set the two bowls, and he pours the soup into them. He crumbles feta on top, sprinkles it with bacon, chickpeas and thyme, and it's finished. As for the Pokemon, he takes out the kibble, and pours it into three bowls. 

Steve helps carry them into the lounge room, Techno clears his throat. Tommy sniffs the air, then lifts the head, and his eyes widen. He jumps to his feet and sits on the couch, Quilava and Zigzagoon are about to jump up and sit beside him, but a gruff from Steve makes them second-guess, and they sit on the brown, fluffy mat. 

There are three bowls of kibble, one each for Zigzagoon, Quilava and Vulpix. Techno hands Tommy a bowl of soup and spoon, and he immediately digs in. He acts as if he hasn't eaten in days, he scoffs it down. He does look a little thin, but he's rather tall, though lanky. "So, Tommy, what's your plan now?"

In less than a minute, the bowl is empty. Tommy wipes his mouth with his sleeve, and looks up at Techno, and briefly, he sees himself in Tommy. "I'm gonna keep exploring, obviously!" 

Techno can't help but smile.

Twenty minutes later, Tommy is ready to leave. Techno does not let him leave so soon, especially while unprepared for the harsh climates which led him here in the first place. His red and white shirt is far too thin, he's extremely lucky he didn't catch frostbite. 

"Here," Techno says, stopping him. He takes out his old uniform, specifically tailored for the cold. It's a little old, and too small for him now. It consists of a deep blue cape held together at the front by a golden string, fur covering the collar. Underneath is a lighter blue jacket and a silver belt, with a blue crystal buckle. Lastly, white pants, and black boots with dark blue straps. 

Tommy looks it up and down, as if he's crazy. "You're kidding, right?"

"Listen, kid, do you want to survive out there, or not?"

He soon gives in, and puts on the uniform. Techno wore it around his age, two years older, but they're relatively the same height. The jacket is a little baggy, and the cape is a bit long, but with some quick, minor adjustments, he's ready to go. 

Anyone would call him foolish for giving it away to a stranger, but he never cared for it. It served its use, and now, it's become useful to someone else. There is no reason for him to store it, it's been years since he's even touched it, it's been hanging up in the back of his closet, collecting dust. 

"Alright, now you can go. Shoo, I've already had enough company for one day," he says, opening the door for Tommy. He walks to it, his Pokemon beside him, but he pauses, right outside the door, and turns to face him.

"I didn't get your name."

He hasn't said his own name in who knows how long. It always comes out of Phil's mouth, he hasn't met anyone new in years, especially someone to befriend. Now that he thinks of it, he hasn't heard his name since Phil came over, and that was nearly three, no, four months ago. It feels unfamiliar on his tongue, he doesn't understand its meaning when he says it aloud.

"Techno, my name is Techno."

Yet, the way Tommy smiles, it's like he knows everything. "Alright, I'll see you later then, Techno!" He says happily, waving a hand, he walks backwards out the door. He disappears around the corner, and when he comes back into view, the same red blanket he was found with is draped over his shoulders. The snow has melted off, it looks as good as new. 

"Where… did you get that?" Techno asks, trying to wrap his mind around it. 

Tommy stares at him, puzzled. "It was just hanging off a splinter on your wall," he answered, as if it were so simple. He doesn't say anything else, he watches as Tommy treads through the mountain, dragging his feet through the thick layer of snow, leaving an unmistakable trail. Techno keeps an eye on him until he's out of sight, then he closes the door and resumes his daily activities.

Two weeks later, Phil pays a visit.

"So, you finally got rid of the old uniform," he suddenly says out of nowhere, as they're having their usual cup of hot cocoa. The statement, spoken so matter of factly, takes Techno aback a bit, but he doesn't express it. He's not sure how he knows, he didn't tell him. Phil hasn't been in his closet, it hasn't been brought out since it was put away. 

"Yeah… Finally found a use for it." 

Chapter Text

A harmonious, gentle tune echoes through the woods, the strumming of a ukulele originating from a young boy and his Pokemon, traversing through the thicket. He hums along, leaves crunching under his feet, his eyes are closed as he walks carefree. Alongside him is a Gogoat, and standing atop it, paws resting on its horns, is an Eevee wearing a red scarf.  

Sunlight peers in through the treetops, lighting up the dirt path. His Gogoat has a skip in its step, a matching red scarf around its neck, embroidered in gold is its name; Skip, which was better suited for its prior evolution, Skiddo, but it stuck. On Eevee's scarf was Pete, in gold. He has a scarf, too, but it isn't his name that's written on, but a close companion; Ranboo.

There isn't anything for him in the woods, but he enjoys the company of the Pokemon lurking in the shadows, and the treetops, peering down at him curiously. The real treasure is on the other side, and he either took a much longer, sturdier path, or traversed through the woods. This seemed like the better option, and he hadn't regretted it yet. He'd been warned of dangerous Pokemon, but he hadn't encountered any yet. 

It's rather disappointing, actually. He only had two Pokemon to his team, and although he loved them both dearly, he needed to befriend more if he wanted to become stronger. If he wanted to become a Gym Leader, heck, even a Champion one day, then he needed to be the best of the best; and you don't get there by only having two Pokemon. 

He doesn't care for types, but the vast majority of Pokemon found here will be grass, or bug types; which he doesn't mind, and quite like. If anything, he'd like to add a Combee to his team, a bug type. He'd say he's almost halfway there, maybe there'll be a Pokemon waiting for him up ahead.

The sky darkens ever so slightly, enough to make him stop in his tracks and glance up, glimpsing at the sky through gaps in the trees. "Aw, shit, it better not rain soon…" he mutters, he could've sworn the weather cast was sunny for the entire day. It can be unpredictable, he should know that by now due to the countless times he's been swept up by a sudden thunderstorm. 

"Come on," a new Pokemon can wait, he cannot get caught up in another storm. He's come prepared, a tent is folded up in his bag, but he needs a place to set it up, where he won't be bothered by the wildlife. He scoops up Pete under his arm, and kicks up the pace. All around him, he sees Pokemon running for cover; hiding inside hollow trees, under piles of fallen leaves and burrows in the ground. 

Then, a dark silhouette leaps out in front of him, forcing him to skid to a halt. It runs straight past him, and into the bushes. "What?" As his mind registers the sight, he concludes it was simply a Pokemon searching for shelter, as he is. Though, no more than a second later, another figure darts past him; this one, much larger.

"You little shit, come back!" A voice shouts. Tubbo catches a glimpse of the person before him; a young boy around his age, fourteen, with bright blonde hair, fair, scratched up skin covered in bandaids, and blue eyes. The unnamed boy doesn't notice him in the slightest, and chases his Pokemon into the bushes. 

Tubbo is stunned, unsure what to do for a few moments as he recollects his thoughts, then shakes his head. It's none of his business, but at the same time, the boy had no supplies on him, not even a pouch, nor a belt carrying his pokeballs. If you get off track, then you'll evidently lose yourself; an older trainer warned Tubbo at the entrance. He said, some people don't ever return.

"Hey! You need to stick to the track!" He calls out, and despite second guessing himself, runs after the stranger. There are grey clouds in the sky, a storm is certainly brewing, but he keeps running. The boy will not only be lost, seemingly without any Pokemon to protect him, but he'll have to endure a horrible storm ─ and he's only wearing a shirt and cargo pants that stop at his knees. 

No matter how fast Tubbo runs, he can't seem to catch up to the boy, who is far out of sight. "Hey─" his voice is cut off when he loses his balance. He looks down, and to his horror, he's walked off a ledge. There's no time to save himself, he slides down on his back and grabs a twig sticking out, but it snaps. He clutches Pete tight as he screams at the top of his lungs.

His feet touch the ground and he tumbles over onto his back. Pete and him are unharmed, Skip effortlessly slides down the slope and hurries to his aid. It lets out a cry and nudges him with its head, its horns poke into his ribs and he groans. "I'm okay, I'm okay," he assures, gently pushing its head away. He sits up and goes to return Pete to its pokeball, to avoid any more danger, when he spots the boy out of the corner of his eye.

Realizing he also fell down here, he could be injured. "Hey!"

The boy has his back turned to him and is kneeling. He's stroking a Linoone's head, and beside him is a Typhlosion. He turns to Tubbo, revealing a gnash on his right knee, which is bleeding a little. "What?" He asks, his tone blunt. 

Tubbo takes off his backpack and pulls out a small medkit. "You're bleeding!" He exclaims, and internally thanks Ranboo for pressuring him into carrying medical supplies, just in case. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

The boy raises a brow, puzzled. Then he looks down at his knee, having not noticed the injury before. "I'm fine," he says confidently, dismissively waving a hand he tries to stand, but recoils at the pain. "Totally fine," he repeats through clenched teeth, holding onto Typhlosion for support. 

Skip nudges Tubbo forward, and he approaches the boy, Pete perched atop his head. "I'm Tubbo," he introduces, "I just want to help." 

The boy scowls, turning away, but his two Pokemon snap at him; though they don't speak English, they're understood. The boy rolls his eyes, and looks at Tubbo, eyebrows narrowed. "I'm Tommy, and fine, if you insist…"

The injury is minor, all it needs is to be cleaned with some water, which Tubbo has in his bottle, and wrapped up in bandages. It takes no more than a few minutes. "There! See? Are you hurt anywhere else?" 

Tommy seems surprised, almost, examining the bandages. He shakes his head and settles into a more relaxed position, leaning back and propping himself up on his hands. "Nope, all good," he answers, and Tubbo is relieved at that.

Until a drop of rain lands on his cheek. "Oh no…" rain started falling around them, and his eyes darted to the Typhlosion; a fire type with open flames. "Quick! I have a tent, help me set it up!" He shouts, digging through his bag. What starts off as light spitter, becomes loud and heavy, crashing to the ground like bullets.

They're both wearing light clothing, they rush to set up the tent as water seeps through their clothes to their bones. There's panicked shouting as they fumble around, neither sure what they're doing, despite Tubbo having previously set up many tents on his own. "Get your Typhlosion back into its pokeball!"

"It doesn't have one!" The Pokemon in question is cowering underneath Tommy, despite the height difference between the two. His response catches Tubbo off guard; what does he mean it doesn't have a pokeball? Does it not belong to him?

At long last, the tent is finished, and they jump inside, zipping it up behind them. Inside, they catch their breaths, Typhlosion is unfazed, but the two of them are soaked. They turn to each other, water dripping off them; looking like a pair of wet Lillipups, they burst into laughter. 

They warm up near Typhlosion's flames, and use one of Tubbo's towels to dry their hair. They wait for the rain to stop, tit pitter patters against the thin roof, which holds up well. Then comes thunder and lightning, Tubbo returns Pete to its pokeball, it whimpered and hid as the storm raged on.

"So, Tommy," Tubbo starts, scratching Skip's head, "what brings you to the woods?" He assumes it's for the same reason as him, to reach the town on the other side. If not, then he's hoping to catch some Pokemon, but there are no pokeballs on him, nor has he returned his Linoone to its pokeball.

Tommy shrugs, crossing his hands behind his head, he leans back against the flimsy, paper thin wall. "Just passing through," he answers casually, "I'm on an adventure! And I'm just going wherever I please, whenever I please."

Tubbo quietly snorts, turning away, he mumbles; "well, you had terrible timing coming here."

Tommy abruptly sits up, causing Tubbo to stifle a laugh. "Hey, I heard that! How was I supposed to know there'd be a thunderstorm?" 

Tubbo didn't know either, so he has a point. "You said Typhlosion doesn't have a pokeball… why is that? Is it not yours?" The said Typhlosion has fallen asleep, curled up in the corner of the tent snoring quietly. It can't be wild, can it? It's so obedient and friendly, and Tommy would've tried to catch it by now.

"Of course he's mine!" Tommy argues, audibly offended. He glares at Tubbo, so intensely that it urges him to apologize. "I just didn't have any pokeballs when I found 'im! And I don't have any now, so he just stays by my side," he explains, as if it's no big deal. 

Tubbo hasn't heard of anyone doing that before, travelling alongside a befriended Pokemon without catching it in a pokeball first. In most cases, you gain the Pokemon's trust after successfully beating it in a battle and capturing it, yet Tommy has skipped that step completely. It's actually impressive. "Wait, so your Linoone doesn't have a pokeball either?"

Tommy shakes his head, and Tubbo's jaw drops. "Seriously?! You befriended two Pokemon without even catching them? You're kidding!"

His shocked tone brings a prideful grin to Tommy's face, curving the corner of his mouth. He hadn't known how much of an achievement it is, and now, Tubbo somewhat regrets bringing it up. "Yep, that's me! Tommy Innit, best Pokemon trainer of all time!" 

Tubbo can't help but snort, causing him to receive a mean look from Tommy, but he brushes it off. "Two can fight for that title," he remarks, a grin tugging at his lips. 

It takes a few seconds for Tommy to realize what he's getting at, then his eyes widen and he gapes at Tubbo; surprised. Before Tubbo could open his mouth, Tommy cuts him off with a wide, devious grin. "That makes you my rival, then!" The way he says it, he sounds so hopeful, his eyes are literally sparkling with excitement. 

Tubbo nods, holding out his hand. "I guess it does."

They shake on it. 

The rumble of thunder is ear-shattering, especially when the lightning strikes, but it fades into background noise. "So, how'd you get that?" Tubbo asks, pointing to his own right cheek, where Tommy had a blue bandaid. 

"A Pokemon fight," he answers nonchalantly, digging through Tubbo's backpack. 

Tubbo raises a brow, "aren't Pokemon supposed to do the fighting?"

Tommy rolls his eyes, pulling out a bag of marshmallows, he struggles to tear them open. "It was massive, huge! And incredibly strong, but we brought it down!" He insists, and the bag bursts open, sending the marshmallows flying everywhere. "Oh, whoops," is all Tommy has to say, chucking one into his mouth.

Tubbo sighs, swatting Skip away as it tries to eat one, he picks up a handful and shoves them into his mouth. He glances at Tommy's exposed arms, which are covered in cuts, some that don't have bandaids and are old and healed. When he smiles and laughs, he has a few missing teeth, and a slit eyebrow, something makes Tubbo believe it wasn't intentional.

He's been on his own journey for a little over a year, since the new law passed. His team may be small, but they're powerful, and he just hasn't come across a Pokemon he's felt the need for; Skip was his starter, a young, injured Skiddo he stumbled upon near his house. He knew at first sight that they were destined to meet, and after nursing it back to help, it became his first Pokemon. 

He's had Pete for a while, despite it having not evolved. He and Skip were minding their own business when in the distance he spotted an Eevee, standing atop a large rock as the sun rose behind it. He knew it was fate, and Pete thought so too, willingly joining his party after losing a fight. He hasn't had another encounter like it since, but soon enough, he will.

It makes him wonder how Tommy met his Pokemon, it's even more intriguing because he didn't catch them. What made them choose to follow him? They're loyal to him, and it makes him curious; would Skip and Pete have picked him if he didn't catch them?

Thirty, maybe fourty, minutes later, the rain eases. The two had become bored, talking about their favorite Pokemon quickly got old, and as Tubbo was about to ask where Tommy's hometown was, assuming he lived in the region, he jumped to his feet.

"It's stopped!" He exclaimed, and unzipped the tent, he poked his head out; only for a puddle of water that's been piling up on a leaf dropped on his head.

Tommy scowled, attempting to remove the water from his hair, he stepped outside, followed by his Pokemon and Tubbo. The sunlight peered through the treetops again, shining down on them. The storm was surprisingly short-lived, normally they go on for at least an hour, sometimes longer. They aren't complaining, though. 

Tubbo softly laughed, stretching his arms. "So, Tommy, you said you go wherever you please─do you have any idea where your next destination is?" It'd be a shame to part ways so soon, after clicking instantly. He slides his hand into his shorts pocket and grabs his rotom phone, just in case. 

Tommy ponders on it, then shrugs and answers 'eh'. He combs a hand through his hair and to his disappointment, Tubbo notices that he doesn't own a rotom phone, and slides his back into his pocket. "Not sure… where are you heading?"

"To the town, just at the end of the forest," he answers, then, a grim realization hits. He groans, sliding his hands down his face. "We went off the path! Now I have no idea where we are!" 

Neither of them have any flying types, they can't climb a tree high enough to get a good view. "Rotom!" At his command, his phone flies out of his pocket, startling Tommy, and floats in front of him. "Pull up a map!"

"What is that thing?!" Tommy shrieks, keeping his distance. He would've laughed if they were in a different situation, practically everyone owns a rotom phone. 

Tubbo gives him a strange look. "It's a rotom phone, you know, a Rotom─you know, the Pokemon, inside of a phone." It's weird enough that he doesn't have one, but even more strange that he's never seen one before. To his dismay, an error displays on the screen; it can't get a signal. "Come on!!"

Without a map, or any way to figure out where they are, they're going to have to wing it and try to find the dirt track. That means, first of all, they have to climb up the slippery slope they slid down. 

Tommy follows his gaze, staring at the dirt slope; which has turned to mud. They both grimace. "How are we supposed to get up there?" 

Tubbo looks down at Skip, specifically its hooves, and snaps his fingers. "I've got it!"

"This is a terrible idea!" Tommy calls from the ground, hands covering his mouth. He watches from afar as Tubbo attempts to scale the slope, riding Skip, clutching its horns for dear life. If they make one wrong move, then they'll roll straight back down─and he does not want to risk a 91kg Pokemon landing on him. "Come on, sturdy now, you can do it…"

Slowly, they climb, moving ever so slowly, inch by inch. His heart is racing, he resists the urge to look down. It's all up to Skip, he can't help in any way. He holds his breath as they near the top, and they make it. He collapses onto the fresh, white grass and lets out a deep breath, but it isn't over yet. 

"Okay, now for Tommy," he tells Skip, cupping its face, it nods and slides back down the slope. It'd be easier if Tommy could return his Pokemon to their pokeballs, but he can't. He carries Linoone on his shoulder, and Typhlosion attempts to climb the slope on its own, using its claws, but its whole paws disappear inside the mud. With the assistance of Tommy pushing it up, and Tubbo reaching down to grab onto it, Typhlosion reaches the top.

However, their two successful attempts have ruined the slope, and made it even harder to climb. Nonetheless, Tommy can't climb the slope on his own, it's too tall for him to jump and grab onto Tubbo; even Typhlosion had to climb before reaching Tubbo, and he does not want to be drenched in mud. 

"Ight, come on, buddy," he mutters to Skip, hopping onto its sturdy body, he tightly hangs onto its antlers. They move slowly, and have a rough start; it's even slippier than before, it doesn't help that Skip's hooves are covered in it. Though he is reluctant, Tommy sticks his feet into the mud and tries to assist. If they slip, he cannot hold up a whole Gogoat; his arms would snap. 

The entire way, Tommy is on edge, fearing the moment Skip's leg slips, and they inevitably tumble back to the ground. He wishes they took an alternative route, he doesn't care if this is the quickest way to the path, it's definitely the most dangerous one. "Nearly there… come on."

He reaches out his hand to Tubbo, and relief fills his heart as their fingers intertwine. But then, underneath him, Skip freezes. "No, no, no! Tubbo!" Tommy clings to dear life as Skip begins to slip.

Tubbo uses all of his strength to try and pull Tommy to the surface, but he's still holding onto Skip, and he can't lift both of them. Whilst Tubbo has his eyes closed and focuses, Linoone jumps off of Tommy's shoulder and in mid-air, transforms into a Machamp. It lands on the ground, and using its four strong arms, pushes Skip up the slope. 

"Come on!" Tubbo shouts, then loses his footing and falls onto his back. When he opens his eyes, Tommy and Skip are safe before him, and Linoone is still hanging onto Tommy's shoulder, he swears it's smiling. "We did it!" 

Tommy cheers and throws his hands up in the air, but to his dismay, his shoes are covered in mud. He clicks his tongue and slips the white sneakers off, leaving him in his white socks. "I just got these, too," he mutters, holding them up, he has nowhere to put them. 

"Wait," Tubbo says, stopping Tommy from moving, "there's mud everywhere, you can't get your socks ruined, too. Just keep riding Skip for now, it's fine, he doesn't mind, right bud?" The Pokemon nods its head in affirmation. "Now come on, the path should be this way!"

Tubbo leads them through the bushes and trees; the Pokemon have come out from hiding, he can hear them all around. He spots a few Caterpie in trees, and Pinsirs by the bushes. They're surrounded by wildlife, and he loves it so much. He looks back to Tommy, and he's in awe, jaw dropping as his eyes dart from one Pokemon to the next. 

Tubbo feels something in his pocket; a green scarf. He thought about mixing the colours up a bit, but he has a better idea. He holds the fabric out to Tommy, and recalls him asking why he and his Pokemon wore the matching accessory. "Here, I want you to have this." 

Tommy reluctantly takes it, and examines it as if he's never seen it before. "What?" 

"I have two more, you should give it to your Pokemon, and wear one for yourself," he says, pulling out two more scarves. "Since you don't have a Rotom phone, and we aren't heading in the same direction… this way, you have a way to remember me." 

Tommy smiles, and ties the scarf around his neck, it looks more like a bandanna. "This is so cool, having a rival is so cool!" He gushes, laughing. He takes the other scarves from Tubbo, and ties it around Linoone's neck, then Typhlosion's paw, as it doesn't fit around its neck. He pats their heads, and they lean into his touch.

From the corner of his eye, Tubbo spots something in the distance; a Combee. "Tommy, look!" He exclaims, but doesn't wait for a response. He chases after the Pokemon, changing direction from the path. 

"Hey, wait!" Tommy calls out, and without having to do anything, Skip runs after Tubbo; bringing him along for the ride. Linoone jumps into his arms, and Typhlosion manages to keep up the pace. "Tubbo!" 

He doesn't pay attention to where he's going, only the Pokemon. A pokeball in his hand, it enlarges and he throws it. "Pete, go!" His Eevee jumps out of the pokeball which falls back into his hand, and hunts down the Combee. "Quick attack!"

Pete follows his command, and bouncing off the trees, pounces and headbutts the Combee out of the air. It catches itself a few inches off the ground, and turns to them; the battle has commenced. Tubbo has another pokeball at his belt, ready for the right moment to throw it. "Alright, use bite!"

Pete charges and clamps its teeth down on the Combee, but is swiftly shaken off and launched into the air. It lands on its feet and skids, unharmed. He has to act quickly, in order to avoid the Combee escaping. "Swift!" An attack that never misses. Star-shaped rays are shot at the Combee as it tries to fly into the air, a clean shot. "Alright, again!"

"Tubbo!" Tommy yells, jumping off Skip, he runs through the mud to Tubbo and stands between Pete and the Combee, his arms open wide. 

It's too late. Before Tubbo can say a single word, Pete has proceeded to use swift, the stars cut through the air and hit Tommy dead-on. Tubbo gasps and his hands fly over his mouth as Tommy's knees buckle, but he stands his ground. Then he looks at Tubbo, furious. 

"What do you think you're doing?!" 

It takes him a second. "What? I'm… I'm trying to catch it─"

"You're hurting it!"

The Combee struggles to lift itself off the ground, its wings are damaged. Dread fills his stomach, guilt spins in his mind. "Oh…" is all he can manage to utter. This is not a fair fight at all, he was planning on capturing it when it was weakened, when it couldn't fight anymore. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize─"

He's cut off by a flamethrower heading his way, he narrowly dodges it in time. The flames hit a tree, lighting it on fire. "What the hell!" He screams, and locks eyes with Tommy's Typhlosion, who is furious. "I'm sorry! It doesn't mean you can attack me!"

Skip runs to his aid, it stares down the Typhlosion, and stomps its two front hooves. Tubbo has to hold Skip by its horns to prevent a fight from occurring. "Skip, stop it! I'm fine!" 

Likewise, Tommy calms down his Typhlosion by stroking its head, and whispering something to it. He then turns to Tubbo, glaring. "That's not how you catch Pokemon!" He shouts, gesturing to the Combee. "You're supposed to befriend them, make them want to join you!" 

He's right. He didn't battle Skip, and although he fought Pete; Pete was up for the challenge, and by the end of the battle, didn't faint, and willingly agreed into joining his team. He attacked Combee with brute force, it didn't even know he was chasing it. 

It physically pains him. He runs a hand through his hair and lowers his head. "Arceus, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize," he quietly apologizes. He's interrupted by rustling in the bushes, and he turns around to come face to face with a Noivern emerging from the trees, effortlessly pushing the burnt branches aside. It lets out an ear-piercing screech.

"Run!" He yells, turning tail, he sprints; but from the corner of his eye, he sees Combee, who is too weak to flee. It is alone, but can't escape on its own. He halts, and runs to it as the Noivern prepares a hyper beam, its gaze locked onto him. 

"Tubbo!"

He ducks, scooping up the Combee, he barely avoids the attack. "There you go," he whispers, setting the Combee down under the shade of a bush. "Stay here, okay?" 

The Noivern lets out another screech. Apologizing won't do anything, they can't possibly think of fighting it, they have no other choice but to make a run for it and hope for the best. Tommy, however, thinks otherwise. "You wanted a battle, Tubbo, here it is!" 

He's crazy. 

No doubt about it. "Boom boy, flamethrower!!" 

"You named it Boom boy?!"

"Now isn't the time! Are you helping or not?"

The Noivern swiftly avoids the attacks; causing more trees to be lit aflame. Tommy pays no attention to the growing destruction, solely focused on taking down Noivern despite his prior statements. When his attacks do successfully land, then it does some real damage. When it's knocked out of the air, Skip charges at it and headbutts it. Pete uses swift, and finally, they have the advantage.

That is, until their surroundings are consumed by fire. "Tommy!" Tubbo yells at the top of his lungs, catching his attention. Then, at last, he notices the trees around them burning. 

Tubbo runs to the Combee, which has yet to fly away, and cradles it in his arms. He returns his two Pokemon to their pokeballs, but Tommy can't do the same. Typhlosion is unfazed by the heat and smoke, but Tommy and Linoone aren't. "We have to get out of here!"

He runs to Tommy; but he freezes at the sound of cracking. An entire tree collapses in front of him, blocking him from reaching Tommy. He can't climb over it, it's consumed by the flames. They're trapped; he can't use his Rotom phone, there's no signal. They're surrounded by a thick ring of fire, there's smoke everywhere, reducing his sight. He covers his nose and mouth with his bandanna, and shields the Combee with his jacket. 

He tries to tell Tommy to do the same, but he can't hear his own voice over the crackling of open flames eating away at the ground and wood. How could he let this happen? There's no way to put out the fire, they can only hope someone; a park ranger, will notice the fire, and call for backup. But even then, it might be too late when they arrive.

Despite his best efforts, he breathes in the smoke, and his vision blurs. "Tommy..." his balance wavers, he stumbles, and collapses. He holds the Combee close, protecting it from the fire and the smoke. Through his half-lidded eyes, he sees Tommy and his two Pokemon. He coughs it up to his bad eyesight, but Linoone appears to glow; then, a Swampert takes its place, and extinguishes the flames. 

He has to be hallucinating. The fire on the tree is extinguished, then, the tree is lifted up by a Machamp, and tossed aside. "Tommy…" his head hurts. Tommy, Typhlosion and the Machamp run to him, Linoone and Swampert nowhere in sight. Then, he watches up close, as light engulfs Machamp, and it changes into a Charizard. 

"Come on─" he faintly makes out Tommy's voice, who is right beside him now, "─out of here." 

Then, it all goes dark.

He shoots up with a gasp of air, his chest ache as his lungs expand. There's a beeping noise and his head is throbbing. All around him is white; he's in a hospital room, sitting in a hospital bed. He slowly examines himself, his right forearm is heavily bandaged, and stings. He's hooked up to a few wires, and there's an oxygen mask over his face. 

Sitting on the bedside table is his scarf, torched at the ends, and three pokeballs. He reaches out to take one, when the curtains are drawn to reveal a nurse with a clipboard. "Tubbo! You're awake, how are you feeling? Do you remember what happened?"

He stares at the closed, dark blue curtain to the right of him, assuming Tommy is behind it. "I… was caught in a forest fire?" He swallows his nerves, there's no way they'll be able to tell it was caused by them. It was an accident. 

The nurse nods, she flips through her clipboard and writes something down. "Do you know how it started?"

He shakes his head, and looks back at the curtain. "How's Tommy?"

"Excuse me?"

He gives her a strange look, "Tommy, the other boy who was with me. Blonde hair, my age…" he trails off, and falls silent when she only stares at him in confusion.

She clicks the pen onto the clipboard and sets it down on a table. "I'm sorry… but you were the only person we found."

Chapter Text

The festival is bustling, as to be expected. It's a yearly occurrence that never fails to captivate and enthrall. There's music, stalls as far as the eye can see, prizes to be won; everything you could ever ask for, all packed into one, for one night only. Wilbur Soot never fails to show up, for a handful of reasons. One; he's an entertainer, this is the perfect opportunity to test out a few tunes, and he's become quite known for his yearly performances. So much so that people anticipate his arrival, and greet him with wide grins when that time comes.

Secondly, no one would be foolish enough to let the chance of a lifetime, or, year, pass by. Their region may not be the largest and at times, falls under the radar, but this festival has no doubt put them on the map in the recent years. Lastly, his lovely wife, Sally, who he met at this very location, helps out here, just like she did all those years ago. Of course he'd come pay her a visit. He got an old friend of his, Quackity, to look after Fundy for the night. 

This festival is everything and more. He met his wife here, he asked her out while handing her a stuffed plush he had won, and most importantly of all; he proposed to her after his first performance on stage. He wouldn't miss it for the world, and he never has. Every year since he was a little kid, he's came here. Sometimes he would run off on his own, despite being far too young, and would try to sneak on rides that were far too dangerous for someone his age. It worked, once, on the ferris wheel.

Arceus, just thinking about it makes him crack up, imagining Phil's horrified reaction upon spotting him on top of the ride, hands in the air. He was heavily scolded as soon as he got off, but it didn't make it any less worthwhile. He tried proposing to Sally there once, when they reached the very top and the ride stopped. Though, his hands were shaking and the carriage jerked as the ride started up again, causing the box, and ring, to slip from his hands and descend to the ground. He never did find it.

Sally burst out laughing when he told her, after proposing to her properly. He can't blame her, he laughed too. 

Fundy's going to have his very own Pokemon soon. He'll be ten in two weeks, but the Pokemon Professor is so far away; in fact, he rarely stays in one place. Some parents wait for their children to be a year or two older, nowadays. Though, there's no harm in giving a ten year old a baby Pokemon, all you have to do is make sure they don't run into tall grass on their own. When Fundy is ready, he'll be right beside him. 

He finds the new "rule", more so an unspoken one rather than established by a person of authority, silly. Pokemon have always been known to be dangerous, they're wild and fend for themselves, but with patience and care, they can easily be tamed. They aren't monsters, and though there have been a few… incidents, it's nothing major, nor life threatening. Those who speak about Pokemon in such terms are stupid, there's no nicer way to put it. 

He would run out into the tall grass when he was eight, without permission. It's how he got his starter Pokemon, he never ended up visiting the Professor. Sure, he's received a couple of minor injuries over the years, cuts and bruises, some scars, but nothing too painful. A few stitches, some cream, a bandaid or two, maybe some bandages, and he's as good as new. Some kids would crack jokes; saying that he was "revived", but he just had stronger bones than them.

He never feared strong Pokemon that were twice the size of him, he laughed in the faces of his classmates more times than he can count. Cowards, he'd call them, before getting charged head-on by a Tauros, or being swept up by a huge wave caused by a thrashing Gyrados. Cowards, they were. 

On second thought, he's beginning to understand why Sally would jokingly say she doesn't want Fundy to turn out like him. 

Not that she's any less of a daredevil. She took on the title of the water type Gym leader at a young age, and wears it proudly. She is known for being one of the strongest Gym leaders, and for good reason; she's won far more times than he has. He isn't embarrassed about it one bit, but proud, and lucky to have her as his wife when she could have chosen anyone else, someone with matching strength, but no. She chose him. 

The sky has darkened, the stars are coming out of hiding. The festival is full of bubbling laughter as kids run past, holding stuffed toys and snacks. As always, it's packed, and he has to politely navigate his way through the ever-growing crowd. It's great that business is booming, it brings in more money for the entirety of the region, which becomes funding for things such as orphanages, gyms, hospitals, and residential homes.

Still, he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss the old days. When there were only a handful of people running around, less stalls and definitely fewer rides; he doesn't even know the names of a vast majority, they have a new one every year. It wasn't as loud, too much for him to hear his own voice at times, let alone anyone else's. There were plenty of people, but things were calmer, and tame. There were quiet moments that he cherished, especially when he spent them with Sally. Now, there's not an ounce of silence for more than half a second.  

There's nowhere in the whole festival that you can spend alone. He can't sneak away with Sally behind a ride or stall; countless people have already thought of that. It's sad, he must admit, but it doesn't sadden him at all. He has hundreds of fond memories with Sally here, memories that'll never fade for as long as he lives. Sure, those times might've passed, the festival has changed over the years… but all things do.

He bumps shoulders with someone, snapping him out of his thoughts. "Hey," he says, turning around to catch a glimpse of bright blonde hair tied into a short, low ponytail. The kid, fourteen or so, turns around and narrows his eyes at Wilbur. In his arms is a Torchic. 

"What?" The boy snaps, the Torchic mimics his voice with an eager chirp. "I'm kinda busy here," he jerks his head, glaring.

Beside him is a Typhlosion, a green scarf around its neck. 

Wilbur shakes his head, it's nothing to get worked up over. "Nothing, just look where─" he lifts his head and the words die in his throat. The boy and his Pokemon have vanished into the crowd in the blink of an eye. He was rather tall for his age, but he disappeared so easily, it's impossible to make out a distinct face in the crowd. 

Wilbur shakes his head and turns away. He's on his way to meet Sally, she should be performing with her water Pokemon. He never used to think much of the ocean or its inhabitants, but after meeting her, he realized how gorgeous they are. Every single one of them, including the ocean itself. He'll never forget the first time she took him swimming, the seaweed and coral were so colorful, as were the Pokemon that swam by. 

He knows he's close by the sound of laughter and water splashing. The layout seems to change every year, it grows each time he comes here, and he's gotten lost more than he'd like to admit.

His heart does a somersault in his chest when he knows he's getting closer, and he picks up the pace. She should be just around the corner, he can hear the children laughing and faintly makes out her soothing voice as she announces her next trick. 

He rounds the corner, and she isn't there. Her Pokemon aren't on display in a large water tank, there's no bustling crowd… in fact, there isn't anyone, except the boy from before, standing on his own with his back turned. "What? How…" 

The boy turns to face him, and scoffs. "Seriously, you again?" He walks towards Wilbur, Linnone by his side and Torchic in his arms. "You need to wake up."

Wilbur opens his mouth to retort, but he can't utter a single word. The world starts to spin, he staggers backwards, hands clasping at his tightening chest. The young Torchic opens its mouth, and he catches a glimpse of the fumes in the back of its throat, before the flames shoot out and engulf his vision.

"Fuck!" He shoots up, catching his breath. Tightly clasping at his chest, he moves his hands up to his face, which is unharmed despite being hit by flamethrower head on. He blinks a couple times and scans his surroundings, they're… different from what he remembers. He's sat behind an unoccupied stall, alone, but the familiar sound of chatter fills his ears.

"Thank fuck that worked," a familiar voice murmurs from beside him. 

"You!" It's the boy, with the culprit nestled in his arms. "That damn Torchic of yours─it attacked me! It knocked me out!"

The boy stares at him as if he's grown two heads, then scoffs, stifling a laugh. The corner of his mouth curves into a smirk and he stands up, offering Wilbur a hand. "No, dumbass, I didn't knock you out. I did the opposite, I woke you up from that stupid dream you were having."

Wilbur rejects his hand and gets up on his own, though struggles a bit. The cogs in his mind slowly shift, trying to wrap around what the boy was saying. It hurts his head. He swats the boy's hand away and staggers back.

"No you didn't. I know what happened, what that little shit did," he says, referring to the Torchic, who blinks up at him innocently. 

The boy rolls his eyes. "Look around, notice anything different?"

Wilbur peers around the stall, and his heart stops. Something is different, but he can't quite place it. The crowd seems more lively… he can identify their faces, the individual stalls and what makes them unique from each other. Somehow, all of it feels more… real. "What the fuck is happening?"

A hand touches his shoulder, making him jump. His eyes dart to the young boy, his bright blue eyes pierce through him. "Like I said," he sighs, removing his hand, "you were in a dream. One of those fuckin' ghost Pokemon did it, they're hanging around this place like it's harvesting season time." He glances at Wilbur from the corner of his eye, and the look he gives him sends shivers down his spine. "And you, sir, are the harvest."

There's a smug undertone, but Wilbur brushes it off. "You're shitting me, right?"

The boy sticks his hands into his pockets and casually says; "nope," popping the 'p' as he looks elsewhere. Wilbur is almost convinced that this is a prank, that the boy owns ghost types and is behind this, pretending to be the 'hero' for attention. It reminds him why he dislikes kids, especially teenagers, so much.

"Right." He doesn't have time for this, Sally is waiting for him, if he takes too long he'll worry her for no reason. "Nice meeting ya, kid, good luck with that… ghost stuff," he pats the boy on the shoulder, ruffles his hair a bit, and walks off without looking back. He ignores the boy's shouting, blurring it into the background of cheering and a hundred other voices. He isn't going to let some brat ruin his perfect day.

He takes one step forward, the heel of his boot touches the dirt ground, and something changes. It felt like a wave crashed into him, nearly knocking him off his feet. Stumbling back, he hunches over and clutches his chest, staring at his reflection through a puddle at his feet.

Wait. That can't be right, it isn't raining.

He lifts his head to the sky, and rain falls. They hit the ground like bullets, but every single one misses him. The streets are filled with complaints as people hurry and duck for cover. Is this another dream? A figment of his imagination? It's… different than before, but something is still off. It's on the very tip of his tongue. 

He dismisses the thought, and keeps running. He isn't sure where he's going, there's twists and turns that make his head spin. It's raining, and yet there's not a single drop on him. The puddles make no sound nor movement as he dashes through them, and the passages start to look identical. There's no one in sight, it's complete silence.

A hand touches his shoulder, it's gentle. A single raindrop lands on his head as he glances over his shoulder, and finds sea green eyes staring back at him.

"Sally…" he whispers, turning to face her. She flashes him a warm smile, comforting him while the rain drenches him to the bone. But after all these years, he doesn't mind. 

She holds an umbrella over their heads, and caresses his cheek. "I told you it was going to rain."

He rests his hand on top of hers, leans into her touch, and kisses her palm. He sighs, "a shame, I only just got here." 

The raindrops bounce off the umbrella, it makes a pleasant sound. He pulls her close, a hand around her waist. He can't help but gaze at her face, at her beauty. She's only gotten more stunning over the years. 

There's a shadowy figure looming over her shoulder. He sees it for no more than a second, and then it's gone. He's not sure if it was there at all, or just his eyes playing tricks on him. He doesn't get a lot of time to think about it, Sally takes his hand in hers, recapturing his attention. 

"We could still ride the ferris wheel."

Anyone in their right mind would call them crazy, and maybe they were. Wilbur opened the door to the carriage for her and bowed, his lips curving into a smile as Sally chuckled and entered the carriage. He joined her, and the ride started up. The festival wasn't as packed as before, but some people still lurked, the rain wouldn't stop them from enjoying something that only happened once a year. They had umbrellas and raincoats. 

The carriage moves backwards, and rises into the air. He reminisces of their past encounters, for the first couple of years they never met outside the festival. It meant that no matter what, he couldn't miss the opportunity of seeing her, even though he didn't know much about her. He knew her name, that she was a gym leader, that she was beautiful, and that he loved her. What more did he need to convince him?

He was in love.

To this day, he still is. 

He sees things that… aren't really there, all around him. They vanish in the blink of an eye, ensuring him that it's just his imagination. Her smile keeps pulling him in, washing the uneasiness off him, with her he is safe. 

The carriage halts and jerks. They've reached the top, and the rain has stopped. It didn't last very long. 

His eyes lock onto a shadowy figure, it can't be a person; it's at the same height they are. Sally cups his face with both hands, forcing him to look at her. She leans forward, presses her lips to his, and he closes his eyes and melts into the kiss. Her lips taste of, they taste of…

What?

There's an undeniable throbbing pain in his head that makes his eyes snap open. The streets are full, and the sky is clear, as if it hadn't rained at all. He swears under his breath, running a hand through his hair. What the fuck is happening?

"Wow, you're like a lantern to a Mothim! These ghost types really like ya, huh?" He recognizes the chipper voice immediately. The boy, who he still does not know the name of, waltzes over, arms behind his head, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. If Wilbur had something to throw, he wouldn't have hesitated.

The boy lends a hand, and this time, he's too weak to reject it. He's helped to his feet and leans against the stall for support.

"Please tell me you have a plan to fix this." He's yet to see an actual ghost type with his own eyes, but there were those… shadowy figures, just in the corner of his vision. 

"I'm working on it," the boy says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I've been waiting to find a use for these all things."

Wilbur watches as the boy empties his pockets, and pokeballs clatter to the ground. He scoops them up and dumps them in Wilbur's arm without a hint of consideration. "You're gonna help me catch 'em! I don't normally like engaging in combat like this, but eh, can't think of any other way." 

Wilbur doesn't have a lot of Pokemon. He adores them, yes, when they belong to someone else. He's bonded with a few in the wild, but he left them there, running free. Of course he has his starter Pokemon, and a couple more… but people his age normally have a whole team, or more. He just brought his starter along, the rest are at home.

One singular Pokemon to help him out, he wouldn't have wanted it to be any other. "Alright… let's do this." 

It's difficult to track them down without falling back into the dreamstate. The boy, named Tommy, however, seems to know what he's doing. His name sounded familiar, but it's rather common. He explained that he spotted a few upon arriving at the festival, and one of his Pokemon; Bingus, had ran out to track them down. He's yet to re-encounter Bingus, but was confident it was fine, and could handle itself.

Minutes passed, and Wilbur much preferred being with Sally rather than ghost hunting with a random stranger. He had a choice in the matter, Tommy assured, but he couldn't let a kid deal with this on his own. It'd affected him enough, he couldn't just stand by and do nothing at the risk of it happening again. Yet, after ten whole minutes of searching the festival, they didn't find anything strange.

"So… Tommy, what brings you to the festival?" He asks, sick of the silence between them. His Torchic and Typhlosion weren't native to this region; he could be here on vacation to see the festival for himself. Most of the attendants are tourists. 

Tommy shrugs, staring off into the distance. "Just heard about it, and wanted to see what the big fuss was about. Haven't had much time to enjoy it, though." 

Wilbur stares up at the night sky, the stars twinkle and shine. "Well… the night's not over yet."

It's subtle, but a smile crosses Tommy's face. The crowd is blurred into the background, their voices faint and muffled, and at long last, there's a sense of peace amidst the chaos. It… does not last for long, they should have expected it. 

There's a blood curdling scream.

A ghost type, a Haunter specifically, flies overhead and the crowd erupts into a fleeing panic. A Haunter is nothing to be terrified of, it's the fact that there's a whole horde of them, along with Gengars and Ghastlys. Even worse, a Salamence swoops down. It looks like it's about to dive head first into the scattering crowd, but it suddenly disappears just before hitting the ground.

No, it didn't just vanish. A Lucario replaces it and disappears into the crowd. 

"There's Bingus!!" Tommy shouts with glee, and without warning, takes off. There's no time to process what he just witnessed, Wilbur is about to follow suit and prevent Tommy from endangering himself because sometimes Pokemon can be dangerous. He knows that better than anyone. 

"Tommy!"

"Wil?"

Oh, fuck. This isn't a dream, his mind is racing but he knows for a fact that this is real, judging by his previous experiences. There's no bitter taste in his mouth, there's no headache, and he can hear the frightened screams loud and clear. He can hear Sally, and see her, even clearer. The confusion and concern laced in her features, she takes one, two steps towards him. In any other given situation, he would've thrown his arms around her.

If he hadn't gotten caught up in this mess and bumped into Tommy, if he was witnessing this in an outsider's perspective, then he would've taken her and ran for the hills, like everyone else. He's torn between doing so, saving her first as he always has, and taking a risk; helping Tommy before he gets himself hurt. 

It physically pains him to back away from her. She immediately halts, he hates the way her brows furrow and she tilts her head at him. "Wil? What's going on, are you okay…?"

It takes every ounce of strength to not run to her, when she's so close. Tommy needs his help, and he can't bring himself to leave him for dead, stranger or not. "I'm… sorry, Sally. I'll be right back, I promise," his voice is quiet and shaky. He takes one last look at her, then bolts. 

He digs through his pockets for his premier ball, and throws it. A Sandslash rolls out, and trails behind him. "I need you to take care of the ghost Pokemon!" He instructs, and it nods. 

The crowd has evacuated; the only person left standing is Tommy, partnered by his Lucario. Wilbur watches as it's engulfed by light and changes shape, it isn't mega-evolving… it changes to a completely different Pokemon; a Charizard. It isn't a Ditto, even from here he can tell it has regular eyes, and not lines. It has to be either Zorua or Zoroark.

"Tommy!" 

He climbs onto the Charizard, and briefly locks eyes with Wilbur. No words are exchanged, the Charizard flies up into the air, with Tommy holding on tight. 

The festival is ruined. Every year for over ten years nothing has gone wrong, the whole night goes perfectly without fail. Why today? 

His Sandslash jumps in front of him, shielding him from an attack. A Haunter has challenged them to a battle, one he can't refuse. It's been so long since he's done this, he hasn't battled in years… Sally was always busy as a Gym leader, and he needed to take care of Fundy. "Let's do this, just like old times."

Tommy always hated fighting from the sky, not because he was afraid of heights… okay, maybe a little. But it was the best course of action, it'd prevent them from destroying any stalls for the most part, and kept the people out of harm's way, too. The rest of his Pokemon, Torchic and Typhlosion, are helping the people escape on the ground.

A shape shoots past him, he almost doesn't notice it. Before he knows it, he's surrounded by Ghastlys, Haunters and Gengars. He braces himself, ensuring his grip on Charizard is tight, and deeply exhales. "Let's do this, Bingus."

Flames light up the night sky. As the Pokemon descend to the ground, Wilbur tosses pokeballs to catch each and every one of them. Every single one of them succeeds, but they keep on coming. Twenty of them at least, maybe thirty. 

Charizard and Tommy are surrounded by a ring of fire, but spinning that much at such a high speed can't be easy. It works, though, and that's what matters. At this rate, there shouldn't be much more. 

He can hardly keep up, everywhere he looks there's a ghost Pokemon in a fight, or charging towards him. He almost feels bad, seeing how they drop, but they brought it upon themselves. It's a mystery why they came here in the first place, it could be anything; territory, just having a bit of fun, etc. Either way, they aren't welcome here. 

His Sandslash lets out a cry, causing him to skid to a halt. It isn't injured, but is pointing to the sky; where something is falling. It isn't another Pokemon, though that's what he assumes at first and readies another pokeball. No, it's a person; it's Tommy.

He can't run fast enough. His arms are open wide, he's running as fast as his legs will take him. If only Sandslash were larger, or could fly. There's no way he'll survive a drop from that height. He doesn't even thrash about, is he conscious? He's just letting himself fall. Then again, what is he meant to do?

"Tommy!!"

Tommy opens his eyes and tilts his head. He stares right at him, but doesn't utter a word, nor move a muscle. So strange… Wilbur is caring so much for a stranger. It reminds him of a certain somebody that makes him smile. Perhaps he'll pay him a visit sometime. He brings his fingers to his mouth, and whistles.

In less than two seconds, Bingus is at his aid. Transforming into a Pidgeotto, it swoops down and he lands on its back, the soft feathers are like a pillow. He hangs on tight, and buries his head in the crook of its neck. He closes his eyes as the Pokemon continue to swarm, one by one they're plucked off by Bingus. But as Wilbur's shout echoes in his head, he opens his eyes.

Wilbur is okay. He looks like he's about to drop dead at any given second, but he's alive and standing. He doesn't wait for Pidgeotto to land, once close enough to the ground he runs over, avoiding the scattered pokeballs. "Wil! That was awesome!" He says, despite not seeing Wilbur the entire time. Arms are thrown around him, and he's lifted off the ground. 

"You did great, Tommy!" 

The embrace is… nice. How long has it been since someone hugged him? He can't remember the last time, or how good it felt. He closes his eyes and cherishes it, but it doesn't last for very long. Wilbur lets go, and wraps his arms around someone more important; Sally. 

"Wilbur, what's going on─" 

He hushes her, cupping her face with both hands, their foreheads pressed together. "I'll explain later, I promise." He pecks her on the lips and smooths his thumb over her hand. Sandslash is by his feet, a little scratched up and out of breath, but doing alright. After all these years, it's a surprise it's still in tip top shape. Maybe they can start training again. 

He laughs, slicking his hair back. His forehead is sweaty, so are his palms. He needs a nice long rest, maybe some soda with ice. He's had enough of the festival for one year. 

He clears his throat. "Hey, Tommy, what do you think about─" his words cut off as he glances over his shoulder, and the color drains from his face. Tommy had been right behind him a mere second ago, but now, he's gone. The streets are empty, he should be easy to spot… yet, he's nowhere to be seen. He didn't even make a sound, no goodbye, or anything. 

Somehow, it doesn't surprise him.

He remembers where he heard his name. 

Chapter Text

Loud music fills the normally quaint, and peaceful cafè. It's doing the job; drawing in new customers, and even pleasing the usuals. Niki quite enjoys it herself, she picked it, after all. She can't help but hum along to the fast singing as she jumps from table to table, taking orders and delivering said orders. There hasn't been any trouble, yet. 

She jinxes herself. The bell chimes as the door swings open to reveal a young teenage boy with curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes; an almost unusually bright shade that sweeps over the full tables. He briefly locks eyes with Niki, then makes his way over to the counter where he takes a seat. Pokemon are allowed in the cafè; small ones, though people tend to keep them inside pokeballs while eating. 

A Pikachu is perched on his shoulder, and a discolored Zorua sits on his lap, putting its two front paws on the counter. Instead of having black fur and red patches, the majority of the Zorua's fur is grey, the tuft of fur on its head and around its neck is white with red patches. Niki has never seen anything like it before; she assumed the shiny version was blue. 

Today is unusually busy, so the boy waits for someone to take his order. He kicks his legs and takes in the nice interior, cream coloured and white wood plank flooring. For a second time, his eyes catch hers. He props his elbow on the counter and rests his head atop it, still staring at her.

Her fellow co-workers are all busy. She makes her way towards the boy, moves behind the counter and takes his order. "What will it be?"

The boy ponders on it, leaning back in his chair. The Zorua looks up at Niki, its eyes a bright yellow rather than the familiar blue. Its eyes look a little droopy, too, it appears somewhat tired. It's quite adorable, if she does say so herself. "Why, hello there, little one, would you like something, too?" They specialize in Pokémon treats as well. 

"I'll have some hot chocolate," the boy interrupts. His order catches her a little off guard; sure, winter is soon, but the weather has yet to cool down. Nonetheless, she doesn't protest. "A blueberry muffin, too, oh! And a small bag of puffins for the big guy here." 

The corner of her mouth curves into a smile at the unfitting, but cute nickname. "Of course, anything for such a cute little Pokemon," she responds, and the Zorua yips in response. 

The boy's eyes wander to the small television set up to the right of him, displaying a recording of Wilbur Soot's live performance. He cracks a grin and confidently says, "I thought I recognized that voice!" 

He scoots closer, hopping from one chair to the next to get a better view. His grin widens as he leans in closer, and laughs. "I didn't know he sang! What's his name again…"

"Wilbur," Niki answers, "do you know him?"

The boy's mouth hangs open for a few seconds, then closes. His grin shrinks into a small smile, and he says, "a bit. We met… uh, nearly a year ago? I think, at the annual festival in…" he drums his finger on the counter, and a few seconds of silence pass. He gives up, dismissively waving a hand. "I saved him from some ghost Pokemon, it's whatever."

It takes a minute for Niki to recall, but Wilbur had mentioned the festival and ghost Pokemon once before; a baffling occurrence that she didn't believe at first. He briefly brought up a kid who helped him, a teenage boy who fits the description of the one sitting before her. "Tommy?"

His grins return. "Yeah! That's me. Nice to know he remembers me! How's he doing?" 

Wilbur said he was a strange kid, someone he hoped to meet again but doubt he ever would. He told her that he remembered Tommy from somewhere; she believes he eventually ended up figuring out where and told her, but right now, she can't recall. 

She gestures to the television with a giggle and says, "amazing, as you can see." 

For having only met Wilbur once and for a short span of time, it was surprising how bright Tommy's eyes lit up, like they were old friends destined to reunite. 

To Niki's disappointment, when she returns with his order; he's grinning ear-to-ear, a familiar piece of paper in his hand. "Win a battle and get free food, huh?"

She thought they got rid of all those. The deal was popular at first; allowed only once per person, it's not like they won frequently. In fact, only a handful of trainers managed to defeat one of the workers, and even then, they wouldn't order too much. Eventually the deal died off, but apparently there are still a few papers hanging around.

They still haven't gotten rid of the field out the back, although it's normally rented by someone else. 

"That deal's over, actually, limited edition," she says, taking the paper from him and dropping it in the bin for him to see,

"Come on, Zoe's itching for a fight!" The said Zorua is napping on his lap, but his Pikachu, on the other hand, is raring to go. On his belt are five pokeballs, the same number on her team. There's no point in bothering any of her co-workers, they'll just say the same thing; that the deal is over. They'd rather serve customers than fight, well, most of them would. 

She contemplates it. His order isn't large; they won't be losing a lot of money. Though it's been a minute since she's fought, she isn't exactly rusty; in fact, she's one of the strongest trainers working here. It'd be a nice change of pace, instead of working on such a busy day. 

"Alright, you're on, but you're not allowed to change your order."

"Deal."

She takes him out the back to the large field. There's a row of buildings ahead and behind, but far enough that there's no risk. The neighborhood is used to a ruckus, since the field is rented out so frequently and misfit kids freely use it to hold their own Pokemon battles. It'll be over before he knows it, anyways. 

"What's your name, by the way?" Tommy asks, standing on the opposite side of the field with a pokeball in hand. He's so confident; the last ones were, too, but were rendered speechless by the time she was done with them.

"Niki," she responds with a smile, taking out her own pokeball. She tosses it in the air and in a bolt of light, Flareon jumps out and into battle. This will be over in minutes. Faces peer out from the windows at the back of the cafè, watching with wide eyes and mouths agape; they didn't know this was a part of the cafè. 

Oh, Arceus, this is going to be a long day. 

"Well, Niki, let the better trainer win." He sends out Blaziken as his first Pokemon, and the battle officially begins. 

The entire cafè pauses in anticipation, both customers and workers captivated by the match that has only just begun. Afraid that if they blink they'll miss it, movement is slowed. How long has it been? Weeks, months. Secretly, they've been awaiting this day, for someone to uncover one of those slips and challenge one of them to a battle; it's been so long, they miss the feeling. The adrenaline rush, fear just when you're about to lose; and that sudden surge of strength flowing both you and your Pokemon. 

It's about time.

"Flareon, dodge!" The battle is off to a great start, their Pokemon already at each other's throats. Acting so quick, it appears there's no thought put into the moves called out; a trainer has to have quick reflexes and know the right time to strike. As Blaziken readies an attack, an opening arises.

"Now, use take down!"

Flareon charges at full speed and collides with Blaziken, who attempts to steady itself; planting its feet in the ground. Then, before Tommy can call out an attack; Blaziken knees Flareon and sends the small Pokemon flying. 

It acted completely on its own, without an order.

"Not bad, I might've underestimated you," Tommy says with a smug grin. His stance is strange, as if he's prepared to fight on his own. Without wasting another second, the fight resumes. "Quick, go for a thunder punch!"

She's given a couple seconds to make her decision, she can't keep her eyes on Blaziken; it's moving too fast. Before she knows it, it's right in front of Flareon, fist raised in the air; sparkling with electricity. 

Maybe she underestimated herself. She isn't fit for a Pokemon battle like this, at least not anymore. 

Wilbur's music blares from the cafè, audible even from here. Screaming the words with utmost confidence, singing to his heart's content. In his final breath, she can imagine him clutching the mic as he yells; "so give it your best shot!"

"Flareon, use smog!"

Blaziken's fist inches from Flareon's face, smoke engulfs the battleground. It's impossible to tell what's happening within; neither can call out any attacks, they have to depend on their Pokemon to carry on. 

Then, out of nowhere, stars slice through the smoke like knives; revealing the two Pokemon. Although scratched up, both remain standing. 

There are two ways she could go with this; defense or offense. Wilbur's music has died down a little, but the lingering eyes haven't left. Her friends and co-workers especially, are counting on her. This reminds her of her teenage days, challenging Gym leaders one after the other and earning a name for herself. Now, she's far from a Gym leader, but… she can't help but feel like one.

She digs her heels into the ground, steadying herself, and nods at Flareon. "Flare blitz!" She cries out, at the same time Tommy shouts his next attack.

"Solar beam!"

It's a race against the clock. Blaziken's entire body glows as it begins absorbing the harsh sunlight, one hit from that and it's over. They each have four more Pokemon left, and yet, this already feels like the end. 

"Now!" They shout in unison, their Pokemon colliding. 

The audience are stunned, faces pressed against the windows as the dust subsides. Gasps and whispers spread out, both Pokemon have collapsed; round one ends in a tie. Both trainers return their Pokemon to their pokeballs and prepare their next party member. 

There's something… strange about Tommy, though she wouldn't exactly call it unusual. She didn't quite get it when Wilbur described him; but now she understands. She watches as he takes out his next pokeball; a scratched up and worn premier ball. "I didn't expect there to be a tie," he said with a short laugh, running a hand through his hair.

A grin spreads across his face, and he tosses the pokeball into the air. "But I'm just getting started!" 

Niki stumbles back, the wind knocked out of her lungs with one fell swoop. The Tyranitar loomed over her and let out a spine-chilling roar that could be heard from miles away. She didn't expect someone like him to own such a Pokemon, especially in a region it doesn't inhabit. How is she supposed to counter this?

"Impressed?" Tommy asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

Releasing her breath, she chooses her next Pokemon. "You know what they say… the taller they are, the harder they fall!" 

She can hear her co-workers and customers sigh and complain; why would she pick Clefable? It's tiny in comparison, Tyranitar can simply stomp on it and end the battle right then and there. Even Tommy seems surprised, she dares him to make a comment. "Your choice," is all he says, as once again, he changes his stance.

Let round two begin.

Tyranitar makes the first move, not waiting for an order. Is it rebelling? No, Tommy is unfazed, letting it do whatever it pleases. With a loud roar, a shadow ball spins through the air and narrowly misses Clefable, crashing into the ground.

It shakes the ground beneath their feet, but she stands tall. "Clefable, moonblast!" 

Raising its arms to the sky, clouds block the sun's gaze and a miniature moon comes to light above Clefable's fingertips. Absorbing its light, a beam is shot at Tyranitar, who can't even hope to dodge. 

The attack does more damage than expected; crying out in anguish, Tyranitar nearly loses its balance; but luckily for the cafè, it finds the strength to stand. Upon second glance, it almost appears smaller. 

"Fury swipes─no, shadow ball again!" 

Something clicks. A smile curving the corner of her mouth, Niki shouts; "moonblast, again!" Tommy's concerned expression confirms her suspicions. He tries to speak, but it's too late to change now. Tyranitar readies another shadow ball, and fires directly at the beam of light. 

Clefable's moonblast overpowers and hits Tyranitar directly in the face; knocking it clean off its feet. Panicked shouts are heard from the small cafè, but before Tyranitar can crash into the building; its entire body turns purple, and shrinks into the young Zorua from earlier. 

"I knew it!" Niki exclaims, Clefable does a little twirl in victory, but Zoe is still standing. It's not enough to take down a Tyranitar, but she assumed it would've been more than powerful enough to defeat a mere Zoe. 

Tommy's hands are crossed in front of his face, his bandages come undone and drift to the ground. Niki doesn't get the chance to ask if he's alright, the bandages were covering both hands up to his elbows. Underneath are more scars than she can count, ranging in size and severity. 

Yet, he's smiling; a fire burning bright in his eyes. He grabs one of the dangling bandages and wraps it around his hand, then clenches his fist. Wilbur was definitely right, this boy is beyond strange. Who does he think he is?

"We haven't lost yet! Phantom force!" He shouts, and Niki's eyes flicker to where Zoe once stood, but is nowhere to be found. 

In the blink of an eye, Zoe reappears right behind Clefable, and the words get caught in her throat. "Clefable, look out─" 

Clefable tumbles through the long grass, and just as it's about to stand; "fury swipes!" It's knocked back down without a second to catch its breath. The previously thought cute Zoe claws mercilessly at Clefable's face, inflicting huge amounts of damage by the second. She needs to do something, and fast. 

She scrambles her brain for a solution, time is running out. But there's no use in panicking; Tommy's Pokemon fought on its own, attacking without being told what to do and when. How? Do they have that much trust in each other, or is it the opposite? 

"Clefable! Use snore, then lifedew!" By some stroke of luck, it works. Zoe falls asleep, allowing Clefable time to heal; but not much. 

"Come on, wake up! Zoe!" Despite having just been put to sleep, Zoe stirs. Kicking its legs, its eyes begin to flicker and no more than a few seconds later; open wide. Somehow, Zoe breaks through the status effect and stands. Its legs wobble, swaying side to side. It may be awake; but the drowsiness hasn't worn off.

Niki glances at Tommy and it must be a trick of the light; but his eyes seem brighter, almost as if they're glowing. She brushes it off and focuses on the battle at hand. "Alright, use life dew, then hit them with a moonblast!"

It had to be a trick of the light. "Quick, foul play! Let's finish this!"  

She ignores how the sunlight bounces off his curls, how it just doesn't look… right. Instead, she pays attention to the energy he puts into battling, and she's glad that out of anyone, he's the one to challenge her. He sure isn't making this easy. 

The Pokemon dance around the battlefield; skidding across the grass and lunging at each other. The hype inside the cafè has somewhat died down, work can't stop forever, after all. Though, as the workers resume taking and handing orders, they sneak glances outside and whisper words of encouragement. 

At first, it seems this will be another tie; but an opportunity shows itself. Niki isn't quick enough to catch it, fumbling over her words at the worst possible time. Clefable, on the other hand, somehow knowing exactly what to do; strikes. 

Typically, meteor beam needs time to charge, but with the help of a power herb…

The colour drains from Tommy's face, as a beam shoots out from Clefable's hands. There's no time to dodge, and yet, he screams; "watch out!" In genuine distress.

Zoe is sent soaring; crashing into the ground then flying into Tommy's welcoming embrace. Catching Zoe with his arm, he holds the Pokemon close; and confirms its fainting. He returns Zoe to its pokeballs, and the bandages around his fist come undone once more. 

They've yet again captured the audience's full attention. She takes a step forward and hesitantly raises a hand, but before the words can leave her mouth; "are you sure you want to keep going?" He raises his head.

Third pokeball in his hand, the light hasn't faded from his eyes; in fact, it's gotten brighter. "I haven't had this fun in nearly a year."

Round three begins in a flash; he sends out Lucario, and she has Granbull on her side. It ends in his victory; but she steals back the lead. With two wins under her belt and one to his name; there's one round left, both have only one Pokemon left on their team. If she wins, she's the victor, and if he wins, it's a tie. Either way, the odds aren't in his favor.

Nonetheless, there's no backing down. They each send out their last Pokemon; Pikachu and Volcarona. 

Some people have taken to standing outside to capture the true experience. The majority are chanting Niki's name; rather a beloved staff member they're familiar with than a stranger. If it affects Tommy, he doesn't show it. "You have quite the fan club, hey?" He calls out, but in no way mockingly. 

He kicks aside the bandages, embracing the scars painted across his pale arms; it's hard to see from this far, but they resemble lightning strikes. Overflowing with confidence, it's like he isn't aware of the odds stacked against him. Or, he's simply having too much fun to care. "Give it all you've got, Niki! Let's do this one last time!"

Oh, that's it. All throughout the battle, there was something… about him that caught her eye, and now she's figured it out. He's so similar to Wilbur it's uncanny, though they look nothing alike; his personality shines through, and it reminds her so much of Wilbur when he was his age. Young and always raring for adventure. He has scars, too, from getting into silly incidents and challenging powerful Pokemon; it's a wonder he isn't dead. 

If she has to guess, Tommy has probably been through a few predicaments of his own. "He was the strangest kid I have ever met, and that's saying something," Wilbur had told her, one late night at the cafè. "He feels like a damn fever dream, one minute he was right beside me and the next… gone, poof."

When the battle ends, will he disappear again? Perhaps he has places to be, things to see. 

Running a hand through his hair, with an exasperated look on his face Wilbur had said; "I don't know if I'll ever see him again. But I hope I do."

She can't wait to tell him.

Time flies by; minutes feel like seconds as the battle rages on. It's like they're in a stadium, like the ones in Galar during Gym battles; a roaring audience surrounds them, cheering to their heart's content. Even passersby and local residents have tuned in, enthralled by the match. There's nothing special about it, a different battle takes place every day, but there's something captivating about it. The rush of adrenaline, the excitement.

It's thrilling. She doesn't know why she stopped; she hasn't felt this good in ages. But if she were to keep this up every day, she'd be exhausted in no time. Tommy, however, seems like he can keep going on for hours. The battle is between their Pokemon, yet she's breaking a sweat just standing on the sidelines, shouting until her throat hurts. 

She wonders if Wilbur misses it, too. He never was one for battling, but he must think about it now and again; in between performances when he gets the chance to breathe. The few times he would battle was against her, those are some of her fondest memories. 

"It's funny, you made me love battling. I used to think of it as so boring and overused, why force Pokemon to fight each other? It sounded silly at the time, but…" with a smile on his face, he lifted his head and stared at her. "Seeing you get so excited over it, especially when you'd win, it changed my mind."

Tommy's Pikachu leaps into the air and before her very eyes, transforms into a Vaporeon. It has to be another Zorua, or Zoroark; it doesn't have Ditto's eyes. What's even more surprising is how it uses water gun; a move that she knows neither Zorua or Zoroark can learn under any circumstances. There aren't any other Pokemon with the ability to transform, are there? 

Caught off guard by the attack, she forgets to call out a move. Thankfully, Volcarona dodges on its own; just barely, also a little surprised. 

Just one more round left to go. "Come on, Volcarona! We can do this!" 

Bursts of fire shot across the battlefield, scorching the grass; it was due for a trim, anyways. There were about twenty people surrounding the battlefield, maybe more, still cheering as the battle neared an ending. They both fought on with determination, it feels like they've been going on for a handful of minutes; ten, maybe, or fifteen. 

Tommy's last Pokemon; whatever it is, continues to change. From a Pikachu to Vaporeon, a Swampert to a Flygon that masks the battlefield in a dust storm. A tornado rises up, capturing the two Pokemon inside; and a fire burns bright from within, consuming it and turning it a deep red. 

It was a sight to behold.

Then came a deafening explosion, splitting the tornado in half. Strong gusts of winds knocked everyone back, Niki struggled to stay standing. Through her fingers and the dust, she saw the blast tear off Tommy's bandaid.

Both Pokemon were flung aside, the audience hurried backwards as Flygon crashed into the ground. Volcarona, on the other hand, managed to regain control and floated mere inches off the ground. The battle had been won.

Tommy shakily raises a hand to his bleeding cheek, the blood running down his fingers. Unconscious, Flygon reverts to its original form, but returns to its pokeball before she could catch a glimpse. She does the same, but instead of congratulating Niki, the audience is silent.

"Tommy! Are you okay?!" She asks, and runs across the scorched grass. 

Before she can reach him, the shock fades from his face and he laughs. He laughs so hard that it forces her to halt, and stare at him in bewilderment. He's hurt, he's bleeding and yet he's bubbling with joy, laughing to his heart's content with the widest smile possible on his face. Then, with his eyes sparkling like gemstones and the wind gently combing through his hair, he says to her, 

"That was the most fun I've ever had! Thank you, Niki! Thank you!"

Tommy leans back and props his legs on the counter, but quickly removes them with a sheepish smile when Minx walks by. "So," he starts, swirling his hot chocolate like a glass of fine wine. "Is Wilbur coming by anytime soon? I can't wait to see him again!"

"I don't know," Niki answers with a shrug, stepping aside as Minx dashes past a second time. "He hasn't been in this area for a while, too busy with tours." She remembers it like it was yesterday; they were young teens, and he would play songs for her. She'd always tell him he'd be famous one day, but he'd always brush her off, insisting that she was too kind. 

Zoe indulges in her puffins, her head stuck in the paper bag. Niki giggles and scratches the top of Zoe's head, the fur is so soft but oddly cold. "Are you staying in the area? I could give him a call."

Placing his empty cup on the counter, Tommy shakes his head. A new bandaid covers his right cheek, and instead of bandages, long black gloves hide his scars. She was right, they really do resemble lightning bolts up close; or a tree with long branches stretching across his skin. Upon closer glance, his eyes aren't as bright, neither is his hair. It was simply a trick of the light, and her imagination.

He stands and scoops up Zoe, along with the half-empty paper bag. "I'm not, actually," he says in a rather disappointed voice, brushing a hand through Zoe's fur. "Tell him I said hi, though! I'm sure he misses me!"

Though reluctant, Niki eases into a smile and nods. "I'm sure he does."

The bell chimes as the door opens, and closes behind Tommy. His bright blonde hair still visible through the tinted glass, he slowly fades into the distance. 

Niki's phone rings.

She lifts her head at the familiar bell chime, and smiles as Wilbur enters the cafè, quietly closing the door behind him. The sky has darkened, the cafè is no longer illuminated by sunlight but dim light bulbs above their heads. Normally, the cafè would be closed around this time, but sometimes, she makes an exception. 

The cafè is empty beside the two of them, every sound; every footstep unusually loud. Wilbur takes a seat in front of the counter and the stool squeaks. He props his arm on the counter and rests his head on his palm. "The usual, please."

Niki can hardly contain her smile. She wants to throw her arms around him, tell him how much he was missed; it's been six months. She swears it's been well over a year, or two. "Coming right up."

She serves him his favorite brew, and slides the mug; his mug secretly stored up in the cabinet, towards him. The steam fogs up his glasses, he carefully takes them off, folds them and sets them aside. Then takes a nice, long sip.

"Tommy stopped by a few hours ago."

Wilbur nearly chokes on his coffee; he lowers it and coughs a bit, then calms down. In a croaky voice he asks, "he what?"

Staring at him with light caution, she began washing the dishes. "Yeah… I served him some coffee, and we had a battle; you know, a Pokemon battle, and he came so close to winning," she says fondly, and stifled a giggle. Wilbur's sitting in the exact same seat. "He wanted to know how you were doing. Where did you recognize him from? I couldn't remember."

The colour drains from Wilbur's face. He slowly sets the cup down, and when he speaks, his voice is heavy. "A missing poster, I recognized his name from a missing poster of a ten year old boy who fled from an orphanage. They remade it with what they think he looks like now and…"

Niki pauses, the glass nearly slipping from her grasp. What is she meant to say? She lowers the glass and sits down, her eyes glued to the floor. "He was just here and I didn't…"

"It's fine, Niki," Wilbur assures, but he sounds so tired. They haven't found him yet, how? 

"I didn't know. "

His face was so bright; his laughter was genuine and full of joy. But his hands were covered in old scars, there were even some on his face. He couldn't have been over the age of sixteen; she can't begin to wrap her mind around it. How could he survive on his own for six whole years? Is he alone, does he have someone to depend on other than his Pokemon? 

"I…"

"It's okay, Niki. You didn't know." 

Chapter Text

The city is bustling, as always. The streets are full of trainers and their Pokemon, even though there isn't a single Gym to be found. Nowadays, nowhere is safe from lively crowds, and although it's good for businesses, it's impossible to find peace and quiet. 

Tubbo eyes the passersby, leaning back in his chair with a milkshake in one hand. Thirty minutes ago, the street corner had been quiet, tucked away in a less popular part of the city. Now, there's twenty people walking past every minute. 

Ranboo, on the other hand, doesn't seem to mind much. He's too focused on feeding sweets to his partner Pokemon, Mimikyu, named "Mimi" for short. His back is turned to the onsweep of people, talking far too loudly in public. 

At the very least, no one has recognized him yet. Ranboo had called his disguise consisting of sunglasses, a cap and black face mask ridiculous, but it worked like a charm. Otherwise, they'd be even more crowded; it made him shiver just imagining it. If it weren't for broken air conditioning, they would've moved inside the restaurant.

"Did you want to go somewhere else?" Ranboo asked, handing another puffin to Mimikyu, who grabbed it with its black, ribbon-like hands. Tubbo almost pities him, he doesn't have to hide himself from adoring fans every time he leaves the damn house, or Gym. Sure, some days he doesn't mind signing autographs and meeting fans, but this is supposed to be their day. 

Just for one day, he wishes he could walk around freely without a care. There is the option of bodyguards, he can definitely afford them and they're an option for all Gym Leaders; but it'll be all over the newspapers. You'd think intimidating the fans a little would be a good thing, teach them about personal space, but no.

"If one person recognizes me, then yeah, we can move," Tubbo responds, setting his chair back down. At least Ranboo is unfazed, he blends right into the crowd; if you ignore his freakishly tall height and black and white hair. At least he'll never have to worry about losing him in the sea of fans.  

He sets his drink down and adjusts his glove. He matches with Ranboo, though his are brown while Ranboo's are black and white. Just like their scarves, which have each other's name embroidered in gold. "Sorry about this, boss man, I swore this place was gonna be different." 

The safest route is to hang at each other's houses, or someone else's, but it'd already become boring. Even dying his hair or cutting it won't change a thing, unless he has his face covered. The fans are like spearows, they'll spot him from a mile away and swoop. Some of them are downright insane. 

"It's fine, Tubbo, really. No one's come up to us, yet, and a few fans won't hurt," Ranboo responds with a light shrug, and flashes a smile. Tubbo can't help but smile back, but if even a few fans approach, it'll open a floodgate. He knows what to expect, it's gone out of hand before. 

"If things do go wrong, we can just go to my place, or see how Wil's doing." 

That's true, they haven't seen Wil in a while. He's been too busy with concerts and recording songs, but after months of being on the road, he's finally back home. In fact, his apartment isn't too far from here, just a thirty minute walk. "Yeah… we could."

Tubbo lingers on the thought, taking another long sip of his milkshake as he observes the crowd. The faces blur together, nobody in particular sticks out to him, their voices slur together into gibberish. Until his eyes land on a tall blonde boy who towers over the crowd like a lamppost, bright blonde hair that bounces off the sunlight, and blue eyes…

Wait a second.

His body moves on instinct. He jumps up from his chair, knocking the table and tipping over his milkshake. "Tommy?!" The name flies out of his mouth, the same way his hat falls to the ground. 

By some miracle, the boy, who appears around his age; sixteen to seventeen, freezes. Time slows down as the boy turns his head, and they lock eyes. He can't… he can't fucking believe it; it's been how long, two years? Three? 

Tommy's face has aged, it's covered in bandaids and old scars, more than he remembers. His hair is longer, and somehow even brighter; his eyes, too, like something out of this world. To seal the deal, he's wearing the same scarf, which still resembles a bandanna.

It's actually him, he wasn't a dream and he's alive after all this time.

Ignoring the other faces in the crowd who have stopped and turned, and are murmuring among themselves; "it's him! It's Tommy!" He doesn't bat an eye at Ranboo, either, as if he's invisible. All he can focus on is Tommy as he sprints, despite the small distance between them. 

He opens his arms wide and, "Tommy!" Throws them around him. Holding him tight, the realization hasn't properly settled in. He expects to be awkwardly shoved away and realize that it wasn't Tommy at all, but a confused stranger. 

That doesn't happen. Instead, the hug is returned and he hears; "it's good to see you again, Tubbo."

They relocate after the ordeal, and somehow escape the sea of fans chasing them through street corners and alleyways. At long last, they catch their breaths in a small, unoccupied park. It's not their ideal resort, but their lungs are begging for a break and there's not a single fan in sight, so they sit down.

"What the hell was that?" Tommy asks between breaths, hunched over on the bench. Sat in the hood of his jacket is a Pikachu, which didn't come to light until after they started running, and it clung to Tommy for dear life. 

His scars are clearer up close, they're definitely new. Faintly etched into the skin, but visible enough and large enough to cause concern. At the very least, as far as he can see, there aren't any burn scars. 

"My adoring fans," Tubbo answers, running a hand through his hair. Taking a water bottle from Ranboo, he downs half of it. "I was hiding under the radar, then you showed up."

Tommy scoffs and rolls his eyes, taking a few more seconds to catch his breath before finding the strength to stand. "You're the one who called out to me." He wipes the sweat from his forehead and brushes his curly hair back, then breaks out into a grin. "How long has it been? You're famous now, I would've never guessed."

"Yeah… a lot has changed in three years."

The shock that registers on Tommy's face is both hilarious, and painful. "Three years?" He repeats, his mouth hanging wide open. "I thought, I thought… it'd been two?"

Thinking back on it, it doesn't quite feel like three years; no, it feels a lot longer. Even so, he can still feel the raging flames inches from his face, breathing hot air down his neck. Even now, it sends shivers down his spine and his body tenses up. "Well, I was fourteen when we met, and I'm seventeen now, so…" 

He assumed Tommy was roughly the same age, or at least he appeared so. "You're seventeen too, right? Or sixteen, at least," he says somewhat jokingly. 

Tommy's response is delayed. Instead of answering confidently, he averts his gaze and scratches the back of his head, a sheepish smile crossing his lips. "Uh, yeah… I'm seventeen, my birthday was… two weeks ago."

He sounds the complete opposite of confident, and Ranboo notices it too, but both resist the urge to question it. 

Just as Tubbo is about to speak, the Pikachu on Tommy's shoulder leaps off and bolts across the park, forcing Tommy to go after it. "Uh, just give me a second," he said, and didn't wait for an answer.

As soon as he reached a certain distance, Ranboo took the opportunity to speak up. "Are you sure that's Tommy? I mean, he seems a little…"

"Strange?" Tubbo bluntly interrupts. He watches Tommy chase his Pikachu around the swingset,  cursing at the tiny Pokemon. "It's him, without a doubt. Trust me, he was weird when I met him." But he seems… different, Tubbo easily brushes it off. Anyone would change in the span of three years, especially while a teenager. 

He looks down at his gloved hands, and after a few seconds, removes them. Underneath the layer, his right hand up to his forearm is heavily scarred, the skin tight and pink. Ranboo stares, but doesn't say a word. "You know the story by now, I must've told you a thousand times."

Ranboo had been horrified when he saw the full extent, but it could've been a lot worse. He could've lost more than an arm if Tommy hadn't saved him, even if the fire would've never started if he didn't show up; or if they didn't argue. 

An idea comes to mind. "Hey, Tommy!" He calls out, jumping to his feet. Digging through his satchel, he tossed out a pokeball. It opened up, and the light faded to reveal Vespiquen. "Remember her?"

It was amazing seeing Tommy's face light up with pure joy. "You caught the Combee!!" He exclaims, running over. "You actually caught her─look at her! She's gorgeous!" He gestures to Vespiquen with both arms, a wide grin spreading from ear-to-ear.

To think, Tommy would've gotten more stuck-up over the years; but he hasn't, and by Arceus does he still adore Pokemon. There's one difference, though, there are pokeballs on his belt. What a hypocrite, even though he did have a point back then. It changed the way he caught Pokemon, and now they both have a full team.

Tommy has frozen in place, the joy has faded from his pale face. 

It takes a moment to notice what he's staring at. His scars are out in the open. Tommy was there when it happened, the raging flames and lack of air; but he never saw the aftermath, the recovery and bandages. Where… Did he go that day?

Tubbo ruffles his hair, making it fall back into place and cover the right side of his face. "This is from the forest fire, remember? It doesn't hurt anymore. Sure, it's irritating sometimes…" the burns aren't severe, they could've been much worse. Although it's been years, his arm isn't quite the same; some movements are constricted, there was muscle and tissue damage, and he regularly applies lotion to prevent itchiness. He nearly had surgery to make it a little more… appealing, though it couldn't be removed completely.

His face, on the other hand, was a lot harder to manage the first couple of weeks. "I'm blind in this eye," he says internally, but wouldn't dare say aloud. Like his arm, cream helps, but...

"I… shit," Tommy mutters under his breath and stumbles back, clutching his head with one hand. "The fire got to you before I could save you, but I thought the doctors would fix it. I didn't think it'd leave a fucking scar, or one that bad. Can you even move it properly? Or, or see?!"

Thankfully, the surrounding area was empty, or else his shouting would've caused a scene. 

Reluctantly, Tubbo slips back on the glove and stands. He takes one step towards Tommy, then another. "It's fine, Tommy," he says, and dryly laughs before continuing. "You saved me, remember? If it weren't for you, things could've ended a lot worse."

Tommy's head snaps up and his eyes make Tubbo freeze in place. All those years ago, they used to be a deep blue; now, not only are they bluer than the ocean itself or the sky, but they're glowing. They're fucking glowing. 

It's enough to send Tubbo stumbling back and crashing into Ranboo, who holds him in place. People's eyes don't glow, now matter who they are. It wasn't merely a trick of the light, he wasn't seeing things. He's even more convinced when the clouds drift over the sun, and Tommy's eyes revert to normal. 

"I didn't save you," Tommy snaps, "I fucking failed to. If I saved you, you wouldn't have…" tears bubble up in his eyes, he quickly wipes them away. 

A silence befalls them as Tommy notices the atmosphere has changed, it's tense, suffocating; almost. A look of confusion crosses his face as he runs a hand through his hair, which is as gold as the sun above his head. "Ah, shit, I didn't… didn't mean to snap at ya. I just, I caused that fire and you ended up getting hurt because of it."

Although humans do not have glowing eyes, this is Tommy, without a doubt. This is the dear friend, his rival who he met and lost all those years ago; the one who both nearly brought him down and saved him in the end. Whether he has glowing eyes or not, that does not change that fact. He is not going to let Tommy disappear again only to reappear another five, ten years later. He is not losing him a second time.

Ranboo has a deathgrip, arms securely wrapped around Tubbo, preventing him from approaching Tommy. To Ranboo, he is a stranger; a peculiar one at that, who is possibly dangerous in his eyes.

With each passing second, Tommy's confusion grows. Smiling sheepishly, he chuckles and takes half a step back. "Guys? What's the matter, what are you two looking at?" It's only the three of them in this park, no people, no Pokemon.

"Are you sure about this?" Ranboo whispers, refusing to loosen his grip. "He might be dangerous, Tubbo."

Dangerous? Tommy? All he can recall is that fateful day, laughing in their tent as they waited for the rain to stop. Declaring each other rivals, friends even, forging an unbreakable bond that lasted far longer than one day. Despite hardly knowing Tommy, aside from his name and spending a few hours with him, he's his friend. His rival.

"It's fine," he answers, removing Ranboo's hands. He approaches Tommy with a smile, and extends a hand. "It's not your fault, Tommy. It was just… a little mistake."

There's clear reluctance, but ever so slowly, Tommy outstretches a shaky hand and clasps his. A wave of calmness washes over him, relieving the tension in his joints. He squeezes Tubbo's hands, and shakily exhales. "It's… good to see you again."

Tubbo breaks into a genuine smile, and chuckles. "It's good to see you too, bossman."

Watching from the sidelines, Ranboo exclaims, "hey! I thought that was my nickname!" To which they both laugh. 

"Sorry, Ranboo! You've been replaced!"

"Yeah, Ranboob!"

The tension has eased into nothingness, clearing the atmosphere. They remain in the park for a little longer as the sky begins to darken, but they pay no mind to the grey clouds above their heads. Instead they relax on the swingsets, swinging back and forth as their Pokemon play in the distance. 

Tubbo was correct, Tommy has a full team of Pokemon; pretty strong ones, too. He's kept Typhlosion (and it's ridiculous name) but his Linoone isn't with him today, or possibly at all. Whereas Pete and Skip have stayed close by Tubbo's side over the years. Since then, he's added four new Pokemon to the team.

"So," Tubbo starts, digging his feet into the sand, "you have pokeballs. What happened to your preach about 'befriending' and not capturing Pokemon?" 

Tommy continues to catch speed, swinging back and forth; he's not even sitting down in the first place. Instead of playing with the rest of their Pokemon, his Pikachu sits content on his shoulder, unfazed by the increasing velocity. "Okay… I figured carrying pokeballs instead of Pokemon that weigh more than me was a better option." 

Tubbo stifles a laugh, and propels himself backwards, continuing to swing. Instead of spending time with them, Ranboo allowed them to chat in private, occupying himself by chasing Pokemon around. It seems quite fun, actually, except when he gets stuck in the kids' slide.

In the middle of flying upwards, Tommy leaps and miraculously lands on his feet. "Speaking of new changes, you didn't tell me you replaced me! Mr. Ranboo over here stole my spot as your rival!" He exclaims, pointing an accusing finger at Ranboo, as he attempts to free himself from the clutches of the slide. 

It's near impossible to keep a straight face, let alone not burst out into laughter. Hell, tears brim the corner of his eyes. "Okay, you can't blame me for that one. It's been years, plus I knew Ranboo before meeting you. Where have you been all this time?"

Again, that look of hesitation. For a second time, Tommy averts his gaze and his voice changes, it gets lower. "You know… exploring and shit, travelling the world and making new friends," he murmurs, scratching Pikachi's chin. "Pokemon friends, I mean. Eh, maybe a few human ones, too…"

"And you accuse me of replacing you,"

"Hey! Come on, we're still rivals." Tommy slings an arm over his shoulder. "Best buds! Right?" 

Tubbo playfully pushes him away, causing him to rock side to side and crash back into him.  As they laugh and shove each other, Tubbo's eyes land on the many scars painting Tommy's fair skin. The ones on his hands are from lightning, he's seen it in a few cases; but how the hell did Tommy get struck by lightning?

Before he can look away, Tommy catches him staring. What he does next is surprising, in simple terms. He shrugs off his blue cardigan, leaving him in a red and white t-shirt that's an exact copy of the one he had on that day, but larger. Then, he raises an arm and it takes a second for Tubbo to see it, but when he does, his heart stops.

"I got a little scorched, too. I think of it as a reminder of that day." His left elbow is burnt, a little less severe than his and focused in a much smaller area, but it's there nonetheless. Doesn't matter that he didn't suffer the same consequences, he's scarred, too. 

Ranboo's cry for help cuts him off before he can find the words. "Uh, a little help here, guys!"

"Coming, Ranboo! Oh, Arceus, what the hell were you thinking?" Tubbo responds with a chuckle, getting up from the swing just as a flash of lightning splits open the sky, followed by the roar of thunder. Dark clouds have consumed the once pale blue sky, engulfing the sun in darkness. 

Just like that day.

There's no time to waste. As soon as Ranboo is freed; nearly breaking the slide in the first place, they collect their Pokemon and make a run for it. Crowds of people flood the streets, searching for anywhere to hide. Restaurants and stores fill up to full capacity, a bit of rain is one thing, but thunder and lightning is another.

It'd been such a beautiful, sunny day, too. 

On the other hand, stray water Pokemon are thriving; jumping into puddles, swimming through canoes or merely basking in the rain. One Vaporeon in particular sits in the middle of the road, its eyes closed and head tilted to the crying sky. It is oblivious to the oncoming car, even when its lights flicker on and a blaring horn rings out.

"I've got you!" The car screeches to a halt. At the last moment, Ranboo scoops up the Vaporeon, followed by Tommy and Tubbo who dart across the road. 

Ranboo safely sets down the Vaporeon on the other side of the street. "There you go, little buddy, watch out next time for cars, okay?" He says, patting its head. It mews in response, leaning into his touch.

It's… so cute, with those big, round eyes that stare into his soul. If it weren't for Tubbo tugging on his arm and dragging him down the street, who knows how long he would've stayed there, mesmerized. "Come on, come on!"

They race down corners and across busy roads without as much as a second of hesitance. They don't stop until eventually finding refuge under the canopy of a cafè, which is closed. Rain pitter patters against the thin, but strong material above their heads. If it breaks, which it likely won't, it'll be like a massive bucket was dumped on their heads.

"This sucks," Tommy mutters under his breath. He returned every one of his Pokemon, except for Pikachu, who hides in his hood, even while it's over his head. His Pikachu nods in agreement and says something along the lines of "yes".

Tubbo shrugs. "It's not so bad," he admits, if he weren't only saying that for the fact it's so familiar. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine the scenery; wet grass beneath his feet, mud sloshing as the two sprint through the forest and do their best to put up a tent.

Looking back at it, they were frightened at the time; Tommy had to protect Typhlosion, who was much larger than him, from the rain or else they'd be in big trouble. But now, he finds it quite humorous. 

Something paws at Ranboo's leg, to everyone's surprise; it's the Vaporeon from earlier. Ranboo doesn't happily scoop it up or take out a pokeball, no, he doesn't do either of those things. In fact, all he can manage to whisper is, "oh no. You've got to be kidding me."

He's been a trainer for five years, having started at age twelve; and yet, he doesn't have a full team. No, he has two Pokemon, and uses the excuse of; "well, I'm not going to be a Champion, Gym Leader or Professor," in order to get out of obtaining more. He can't back his way out of this one, however. 

Snickering, Tubbo elbows him. "It chose you, bossman. What are you gonna do, say no?"

"Yes," he says, exasperated. "Yes, I am going to reject it because I am not looking for anymore Pokemon." Despite his claims, he keeps his lips sealed, for he of all people doesn't have the heart to shoo away such a kind looking Pokemon.  

"Come on," Tommy budds in, "Tubbo's right. You can't reject such a cute little guy! Come on, Ranboob, don't be heartless."

Sighing in defeat, Ranboo crouches to near the Vaporeon's height. "Are you sure you want to come with me? Really? Just because I saved you from a car…?"

The Vaporeon mews, and gently headbutts his knee. By that declaration, he can't possibly say no. So, grumbling under his breath but making no real complaints, he picks up the Vaporeon who is more than happy to be held. "This has been the weirdest day so far. I don't think anything will ever top this."

Then, as he cradles Vaporeon like a baby, he turns to Tommy and says; "are you planning on staying here for a while? Because if so, I might have to take that back."

Whilst Tubbo bursts into a laughing fit, hunching over and clutching his stomach, Tommy is speechless. Not because he's offended, no, there's that look of hesitance again that dries out the laughter in the air and turns it cold. "I, well, uh…"

When he turns away, it feels like there are more than two eyes on him. Tubbo's specifically burn a hole through the side of his head, which fills with static mixed in with rainwater. Pitter patter, tapping on the cover above their heads. Not a single drop reaches him, yet he's cold to the bone.

A hand touches his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. Tubbo doesn't meet his gaze with frustration or concern, but a warm smile with a hint of sadness behind his eyes. "Just… promise we'll stay in touch this time. It won't take another five, or ten years to reunite."

Questions bubble up in Tubbo's head. Tommy will vanish after the rain clears, or even before then, now may be the last time to ask. Why were your eyes glowing? Where have you been? Are you okay, where did you get all those scars? But he knows deep down, that even if he were to ask, he wouldn't get a single solid answer. 

They've known each other for one day and three years, coming up to two days. Yet, it feels much longer than that; years longer, even though they haven't kept in touch and hell, for a small portion of those years Tubbo believed Tommy had died, or was a figment of his imagination. That he had hit his head or passed out from the smoke and conjured him up in his mind. Even Ranboo had his doubts, as much as he insisted otherwise.

Tears brim in the corners of his eyes and it's strange, to feel so close to a practical stranger. He knows his name and nothing else, other than that brief encounter. He's from everywhere and nowhere, so familiar yet unknown.

Tommy returns the smile. "I promise. I… might just stay in the city a little longer than planned."

The boy who's always travelling, someone who never stays in one place longer than a day, has planted his feet firmly in the ground and decided; "maybe I do belong somewhere."

Chapter Text

A day later, Tommy still hasn't left. He's never stayed in one place for this long, constantly hopping from town to city, typically ignoring anyone who crosses his path or sparing only a few seconds of his time. A select few he gets to know, but by the end of the day, he bids farewell and pushes onwards. Over the span of nearly seven years, he's seen all there is in this wonderful, but small region.

Lying on the disheveled bed, he raises a hand to the cracked ceiling and in the darkness, can almost make out stars. Tubbo and Ranboo slept soundly through the night, but he kept tossing and turning, the "soft" mattress was the opposite, too hard for his liking. The duvet was okay, but it was too soft and light, at times he forgot it was even there.

Overall, it was less than decent, nothing compared to a nest of leaves or a Wooloo's fluffy coat. He quickly got bored of the blank, white ceiling, when he could've been gazing up at the night sky instead. When he'd suggested the idea of sleeping outside, Ranboo and Tubbo were shocked, and dragged him to the nearest hotel. He was starting to regret letting them do so.

He glanced at Tubbo and Ranboo on their beds, snoring as they continued to sleep. He chose not to wake them, but get up on his own without making a sound. He slept in his regular clothes, except for a dark blue cardigan made from the wool of a Wooloo. He draped it over him and slipped on his green scarf, then adjusted the small braid hanging by his ear, and lastly tied his hair into a short, low ponytail.

Tubbo groaned and rolled over, causing one arm to hang over the bed. A few seconds of silence passed and he didn't make any more sudden movements, his snoring relieving the tension in Tommy's muscles. 

Tying the laces on his sneakers, Tommy fastened on his belt which held his pokeballs, and silently exited the room. Not bothering to check one more time, he closed the door behind him with a click, and his footsteps echoed down the hall. 

As Tubbo's snores filled the silence of the room, Ranboo slowly shifted under his covers. His unevenly split hair falling into his face, he deeply sighed and sat up. "I better not regret this, Tubbo," he mumbled in a groggy voice, rubbing his eyes while Tubbo laid across from him, smiling in his sleep.

Tommy whistled to himself as he skipped down the stairs, closing his eyes for a brief moment while he yawned. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he opened his eyes and stretched, then let out a high-pitched scream at the sight of Ranboo standing in front of him. 

A few heads were turned, which Tommy didn't pay attention to, instead repeatedly glancing over his shoulder and at Ranboo. "Where did you?!" He exclaimed, choosing not to finish his sentence as he gawked at Ranboo, who deeply sighed and rubbed his face.

"Where are you going?" He asked, clearly tired by his low voice and worn expression, which wasn't hidden behind a mask or glasses. "I mean, I know it's not really my business but… Tubbo was really happy to see you. It's been three years, and he hasn't forgotten you."

Tommy averts his gaze, fumbling with a Pikachu keychain in his hand. Three years felt like one, and one felt like a handful of months, or weeks sometimes. Time effortlessly slipped through his fingers like grains of sand, but his friends - if he could even call them that, were rocks, staying in the palm of his hand. 

Three whole years. He's waited that long, and for what? An uneventful day ruined by rainfall and awkward silence. He remembers their meeting like it was yesterday, and if not for how they've changed, he would've assumed not a week, let alone years, have passed. 

Ranboo's sigh interrupted his train of thought. "I'll tell him when he wakes up, that you…" 

That he made a promise to stay and ended it after one day? He never did give a time or date. As long as he makes sure to return under five years or at least one, it won't matter that much, right? A few days or weeks… 

But what will he be doing by then? He's explored every inch of this region, every well-known city and small town nestled in the unknown. He's even searched the skies, the very top of mountains that touched the clouds. There's nothing left for him here, aside from old friends who have likely forgotten him, viewing him as no more than a distant, hazy memory.

He releases the breath he was holding and flashes a smile, one Ranboo can't tell is real or forced. "One more day," Tommy says, "one more day, and I'm going to make it count. I'll make sure Tubbo never forgets it." Or me, he finishes in his head, his smile turning into a grin. 

Ranboo smiles back at him, looking past the scars to see a lonely, teenage boy. "Is that a promise?" 

Tommy hesitates, but his smile is quick to return. He nods. "Yeah, it's a promise."

Tubbo was ecstatic to hear the news. Normally he'd be at the gym, practicing and taking on challengers; he's already received a few phone calls about it. Despite his agent's insistence, he requested the gym to be closed, just for today, and assured that he'd be back to being a Gym Leader tomorrow. 

Today, however, he would be an ordinary seventeen year old boy enjoying the day out with his two friends. In fact, he had just the perfect idea planned for the three of them, and neither objected. Thus, the trio were sprinting out of the hotel and on their way to the sandy beach of the coastal town. 

"You need lifejackets," Tubbo insisted for the third time in the span of three minutes. Though he was a dedicated Bug Type trainer, he always enjoyed life by the sea, and went paddle boarding in his free time. He'd brought Ranboo along a few times, but it'd been a while, and the only reason he was refusing to wear a lifejacket was to spite him; along with Tommy.

While he knew Ranboo was decent enough at swimming and could handle himself on his own board, he's unsure if Tommy has ever stepped foot in the ocean before. 

"I'm a big man, I don't need no fucking life jacket," Tommy spat, all in good measure; but it was starting to get on his nerves. He sat with his arms crossed and eyes closed; he nearly toppled over when Tubbo threw a life jacket at him. He wasn't letting his best friend drown before the day even begins.

"Wear it!"

After a couple minutes of harmless bickering, both Ranboo and Tommy agreed to put their life jackets on, as not to end their trip early. The boards were long enough to fit two people and no Pokemon, unless perched on their shoulders, like Pikachu chose to do; jumping out of its pokeball without being told to. Which led Vaporeon to do the same, though Ranboo had room on his board, as Tommy would be joining Tubbo.

After ensuring the life jackets were secured, the boards were pushed into the water. Tubbo had no difficulty, and Ranboo shortly followed, the two standing close, but not too close to each other. Then, before drifting too far, Tubbo outreached his hand. "Come on, boss man!"

Hesitation stared back at Tubbo, Tommy's feet glued to the sand. His Pikachu, on the other hand, was fearless; launching off his shoulder and onto Tubbo's. It almost sounded like it was laughing at him, among other Pokemon speak, and if Tubbo didn't know any better, Tommy understood every word. 

"You little! I'm no coward!" He snapped and without thinking, jumped onto the board. He would've crashed straight into Tubbo and caused both of them to fall over if Tubbo hadn't stepped back. Even so, the board rocked and almost tipped over, but they managed to steady it just in time. 

Ranboo watched from a safe distance, Pikachu took cover on Tubbo's shoulder, pulling faces at Tommy and purposely agitating him. Poor Tubbo was unwillingly wedged between the two, struggling to calm Tommy down, fending him off with the paddle. The board rocked, adding to the chaos. "Tommy! You're gonna make us fall!"

In the end, thanks to a watergun from Vaporeon, only Tommy and his Pikachu ended up falling into the water. He was quickly dragged back onto the board before his Pikachu could thundershock him and the underwater wildlife into oblivion. He accompanied Ranboo from then on, Tubbo had already risked falling underwater too many times. 

Tommy didn't mind too much, having learnt his lesson, he was the only one dripping wet and soaked to the bone. Instead of standing and disrupting the balance, he sat with Pikachu in his lap, admiring the scenery. The ocean stretched out for as far as the eye can see, a beautiful blue glistening under the sun's gaze. 

They weren't alone, other boards and even large ships filled the ocean. Though, they were the odd ones out; as other surfers had water Pokemon pulling them along. Upon watching the people race each other with the help of their Pokemon, an idea sprung to mind.

"Hey, how about we do that?" Tommy suggested, eager to try it out. Before being given an answer, he sent out Zoroark, who landed on Tubbo's board and nearly sunk it immediately. In the blink of an eye, it transformed into a Dewgong and dived into the water. 

Now, they had lost their chance to decline. Tubbo politely waved over one of the surfers, who were lucky enough to be on break and kind enough to toss over their harnesses.  

Both Ranboo and Tubbo were handed one, and carefully put it over their Pokemon. Tightly holding onto the leash, they turned to each other and grinned. In the far distance were a series of buoys set up, which they would have to race through until they reached the two flags at the end. 

"Ready?"

Tommy weighed his options, and stayed on Ranboo's board. There was practically nothing to hold onto, but he refused to back out of this. If he fell off, then he wasn't allowed to complain to either of them. 

"Ready."

One of the surfers blew the whistle, and off they were. Without a second of hesitation, their Pokemon propelled themselves through the water, causing a small wave to hit the surfers. 

Having gravely underestimated Vaporeon's strength, Tommy clinged to Ranboo, or else he would've flown off at the very beginning. Despite his initial fear, the ripples underneath the board were thrilling. Ignoring the risk of falling off, he crouched down and dipped his fingers into the water, feeling it rush against him. 

He's never done anything like this before; the instances he swam alongside his Pokemon were short and relaxing. Having it be a race with other people, even if he wasn't exactly participating in it, was euphoric. He made the right decision, staying here, if only for another day. He'd keep his promise; they were already off to an amazing start. 

Catching his reflection in the water, his thoughts froze. He slowly brought a hand up to his face and realized just how much he had changed. He can't remember the last time he looked into a mirror, or saw a glimpse of his own face. His hair is an absolute mess of curls, but his braid and ponytail aren't so bad.

"Hold on!" Ranboo shouts, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

There was no time to brace himself. Tubbo passed through the first buoys and if Ranboo hadn't slowed down ever so slightly, they would've crashed. He followed right behind Tubbo and Tommy had to hold onto the board itself, too afraid he'd lose his balance upon standing up. By some miracle, he held on. 

They were second, but quickly catching speed. Despite being right behind him, Tubbo had the audacity to flip them off with a shit-eating grin. Still in the lead, he was approaching the second pair of buoys. 

Snickering to himself, Tommy dunked his head underwater and with his Pikachu, observed the hundreds of Pokemon minding their own business. His eyes glowing vibrantly, he opened his mouth and instead of air bubbles coming out and water filling his lungs, he spoke. "I need your help!"

He just managed to get the words out before Ranboo pulled him up by the helm of his shirt. "Tommy! What are you doing? We need to focus!" 

Drying his face with his shirt, he opened his eyes just in time to watch a Floatzel propell out of the water and jump straight in front of Tubbo's path. In an attempt to swerve out of the way, Tubbo lost his balance and slipped off his board, straight into the water, allowing Ranboo to surpass him and take the lead.

Tommy and Pikachu waved at Floatzel, who winked and dived back underwater before Zoe could attack. 

"Sucks to suck!" He called out, flipping off Tubbo, who glared and did the same. His victory was short-lived, however. Ranboo took a sharp corner in order to pass through the buoys, and by the time Tommy noticed, he and his Pikachu were already thrown off the board.

"Hey!" He shouted, the life jacket keeping him afloat. Pikachu mimicked his voice with anger, its fur dripping wet. Ranboo made no attempt to slow down or return for them, continuing at full speed ahead. 

"Sorry!" Apologizing was all he could do, before he was far out of Tommy's range, leaving him floating in the middle of the ocean.

In the middle of shouting for help, a wave caused by Tubbo shooting past crashed into Tommy. He coughed on the water that entered his mouth, his voice cracking when he yelled. "You fucking─"

Tubbo had no regrets, laughing loudly as he pursued Ranboo. "Sucks to suck!"

The surfers from earlier were on their way to collect him, there he'd have to watch from one of their boards or the beach. Either way, he'd be observing everything from a distance missing out on the action, the wind running through his hair and the adrenaline of fighting for first place. No, there's one thing about Tommy; and it's that he doesn't lose . 

He sighed. "Well… guess it's our turn, Bingus," he said with a grin, holding Pikachu in front of him. 

Ranboo remained in the lead, for now. On his way to passing through the third buoy, it meant he only had one more and then the finish line. If he could hold off until then, he'd be the victor. Although he wouldn't receive a prize or certificate, he had permission to rub it in Tubbo's face. 

Hearing waves crash behind him, he braced himself. He kept his eyes focused on the goals ahead, not willing to check just how close Tubbo was, or how far away Tommy was. He'd be fine, he could float, and he'll eventually forgive him for abandoning him in the middle of the race. It's not like he had any other choice. 

"What the fuck!" 

Breaking his concentration for just a moment, Ranboo had to investigate the commotion. To his surprise, Tommy was back in the race. He was without a board, riding on top of… A Lapras, which, as far as the two of them were aware of, was not a member of his team. 

"Where the fuck did he get a Lapras?!" 

Now, they could argue that this is anything but fair; he wasn't really participating in the first place, just tagging along for the ride. He doesn't even have a board, and they're half-way through the race, but past their initial shock, neither make any more complaints, and the surfers don't step in. This is all in good fun, after all, it's in no way an actual competition with any kind of prize awaiting them at the end, aside from lighthearted pride and fun.

So, the race continues normally. Aside from a bit of added tension, because now, Ranboo doesn't just have to look out for Tubbo, but Tommy, who is on a Pokemon more than twice the size of him. 

He's just befriended this Vaporeon, he hasn't even thought of a name yet; but he's putting so much trust into it. Somehow, it's pulling both the weight of the board and him on top, despite its small size. "Come on," he says, leaning forward and tightening his grip, "just a little further."

Tubbo has his life all figured out at seventeen. A young, talented trainer who happens to be a famous Gym Leader, even if he doesn't want to become the Champion, he has the strength to achieve the title. He enjoys being third, even though he could be so much more, but he waits, because he still has a long life ahead of him. 

He'll maintain the title for years to come, and he'll become stronger, more famous and loved; envied. People would kill to be in his position, so they train every day of their life to reach his status. Admittedly, if you challenged Tubbo for his title, he wouldn't bat an eye, he'd stare at you blankly and hand it over as if it were an object passed from person to person.

Tubbo Underscore has his whole life planned, neatly laid out before him like a map, and no matter how many times he complains in a blunt, matter-of-fact voice, Ranboo's thoughts don't change. He'd do anything to be in his spot, to have the faintest clue where you're going in life, and some control over your future. 

Not a day goes by where he doesn't wonder what it's like. 

Whilst he got lost in his thoughts, Tubbo passed Tommy and exceeded Ranboo, passing through the third buoys before him. Their boards were inches from crashing together, a close call that snapped Ranboo out of his head and back into the race. "Crud, come on, Vaporeon!" 

No, he can't let Tubbo win this. Tommy, maybe, but it can't be Tubbo; who excels in everything, a child prodigy who sits bored at the top of a mountain, waiting for something new. Something different to bring change into his life.

After passing through the last set of buoys at practically the same time, there is only the finish line left. He pays no mind to how Vaporeon begins to slow down, only how Zoe begins to do the same. It isn't used to being a Dewgong or swimming for such long periods of time. At this rate, they'll be lucky if either one of them makes it to the finish.

But Vaporeon pushes on, paddling through the water. It'd be humiliating to drop out now, when they're so close they can practically taste the victory. Neither of them think of Tommy, too focused on the shortening distance between them and the two flags signalling the end. 

Ranboo and Tubbo are neck to neck, both Pokemon desperately racing for the final cut. And then, when they're seconds away from the end, Ranboo glances at Tubbo and his heart stops. If he weren't paying such close attention, he would've brushed it off and claimed the victory as his.

But just before he passed through the flags and cheers rang out, Tubbo looked at him and smiled, and stopped. Not because he was afraid they'd crash, he could've easily surpassed him in the last second, even by just an inch. No, he physically pulled on the reins, forcing Zoe to a halt and allowing Ranboo to slip past, giving him the win.

Well, he would've won, if Tommy hadn't leaped right over their heads at the very last second. He didn't think a Lapras could fly, let alone jump a few inches off the water's surface before today. Yet, with some burst of strength, Tommy succeeded, landing just past the finish line, sending a horrifically tall wave their way.

Throwing his arms in the air, Tommy rejoiced. Upon noticing how soaked Tubbo and Ranboo were, he couldn't help but laugh hysterically, hunching over and clutching his stomach. "Look at you two! You're like wet Lillipups!"

Frankly, Ranboo couldn't care less about his failure, or Tommy's antics. His eyes were focused on Tubbo as he slicked back his dripping hair, and then, met his gaze. 

Ranboo could only ask, "why?"

And as an answer, Tubbo smiled.

They thanked the surfers for their generosity and returned the equipment, then dried themselves on the shore. Zoe turned back into a Zoroark and the Lapras had disappeared, vanishing into thin air. They both knew every Pokemon on Tommy's team, but neither commented on it. 

The trio took to the streets, pondering on their next thrilling activity; the city was full of them. They could visit a cafè or museum, the cinemas or the theatre, there were more options than they had fingers. How were they ever going to pick? It couldn't all fit into one day, they already spent well over an hour at the beach.

Tommy trailed behind Ranboo and Tubbo as the two discussed their next plan. Pikachu still on his shoulder, he listened to the ins and outs of the bustling city; the cars driving past and bicycles close behind, strangers chatting nearby and the clinking of cutlery outside restaurants. Everywhere he looked, there was something happening.

"And if you saw this boy, Tommy, today ─ seven years later, you'd recognize him?" A voice as clear as day spoke, coming from the large tv screen beside Tommy, concealed behind glass in a store. It was an interview, between a young woman and…

"I'd know the boy I raised." 

In the past seven years, Sam is still recognizable. He hasn't changed too much, aside from physically growing taller and muscular as he aged. His hair remained a dark green and even during the interview, he wore a custom mask that resembled a gas mask. 

He's right, out of every caretaker, most memories are of Sam. Every so often, he'd be told the same story of how he was found on the orphanage's doorstep by Sam. No more than a few months old, he laid in a basket with a red and white blanket over him. 

Multiple caretakers helped take care of him. Up until then, the kids they took care of were toddlers and older, thus some days they struggled. But Sam wouldn't give up. 

"He promised to take care of you and find you a loving home one day," Puffy had recalled, telling it with a smile on her face. Sometimes Sam acted like an older brother, playing games like hide and seek with Tommy or helping him scare the caretakers every Halloween, dressed in white sheets. 

Other instances he felt more like a father figure, such as when he'd tend to his wounds from being too reckless, or scold him for causing trouble. In every memory, he's there. 

"After all these years, why are you searching for him now?" The woman asks, and there's something about her blunt, uncaring tone that makes Tommy seethe. "Why wait seven years?"

He grumbles under his breath, but he can't tear his eyes away. His mind instructs him to keep moving before he's left behind, whilst his heart asks him to stay, just a little longer. Curiosity forces him to stand still, it whispers in his ear and says 'but what if. Don't you want to know, too?'

And so he waits, and Sam speaks in a calm, unfazed tone.

"I've never stopped looking for him. I know he's out there, somewhere. I just need to know he's okay." Towards the end of his sentence, it might've been Tommy's imagination, but Sam's voice cracks ever so slightly.  

And, at that realization, Tommy's heart cracks a little, too.

"Tommy! What are you waiting for?" Tubbo calls out, only now noticing his absence after they've crossed the road. 

Tommy's eyes linger on the screen for a little longer, but an ad interrupts the interview. Cursing under his breath, he scratches Pikachu's chin, who nuzzles against his face. "Coming!" Turning on his heel, he runs after his friends.

Friends.

"Look out!"

The car screeches to a halt mere inches away from Tommy. He's frozen in place as Ranboo and Tubbo rush to his aid, his joints stiff and stuck in position when they shove him out of the way. 

Ranboo stands with Tommy off to the side, whereas Tubbo blocks the car's path, ignoring Ranboo. To their surprise, the car doesn't honk at him or try to drive around him, in fact it turns off and the driver steps out. 

"Unbelievable…" they mumble, as if their car was damaged in the act. A red mask covers most of their face, except for their eyes. "Kid, did your parents not teach you to look both ways before crossing the road?" 

Vaporeon suddenly leaps out of Ranboo's arm and runs to the stranger, purring as she claws at their legs. Ranboo doesn't get the chance to speak up, as the stranger bends over and picks her up. "Dixie! This is where you've been? You had me worried sick, girl!"

Ranboo chokes on thin air, and his own words as he tries to speak. "Is, is she… your Pokemon?" He asks, stuttering. 

The stranger's expression softens, they handle Dixie with care, stroking her head as she leans into their touch. "Eh, you can say that? More of a patient, you know?"

The three boys exchange puzzled looks, forgetting about the near death incident. Deeply sighing, the stranger gestures for them to follow as they climb back into the car. "Come on, I'll explain it on the way." 

Not a single one of the boys move, their feet glued to the road. 

The stranger groans, muttering something under their breath, then says; "chill out, it's just to the Pokemon sanctuary around the corner. You can walk, alright? Not enough room in here, anyways," they say, sliding into the car and closing the door. The kids wait until they wind down the window before making a move.

"You wanna see where Dixie escaped from or not? I'll gladly just take her off your hands."

Albeit some of the tension has faded, the kids are reluctant. Dixie pokes her head out of the window, looking as happy as either and mewls at Ranboo, her tail wagging. It's the last thing to push Ranboo over the edge, the first one to speak up and confirm their decision without asking either of his friends.

"Fine. Lead the way."

Chapter Text

Nothing could have prepared the trio for what lies behind those doors. It made their hearts stop and they had to physically pause in order to take it all in. This was a Pokemon's heaven, it was massive and had an area formatted for each type, closely resembling their wild habitats.

The glass dome ceiling was accustomed to flying types, given them plenty of room to soar. Perches and swings hung from the ceiling, which was strong enough to support the largest of Pokemon. Similarly, the tallest trees were customized for their entertainment.

No one understood the system of tunnels looping around trees and all over the sanctuary until they saw a Furret race down it, followed by a Nickit. Their strong grip allowed them to climb steep curves of the tunnel, so they could reach the ceiling with the flying types. Likewise, boards were built into the trees, letting nimble Pokemon climb up and stare at the trio from above.

Dixie leaped from Ponk's arms and raced to the pool, where a large variety of water types relaxed, including other Vaporeons. If she's so happy here, then why run away?

"You run this place by yourself?" Tubbo was the first to speak up, whilst Tommy and Ranboo were rendered speechless. Everywhere they looked, Pokemon freely explored. There were too many to count, some were hiding just out of plain sight. If they had to guess, there was at the minimum; fifty, maybe sixty. Far too many for a single person to take care of.

Ponk stopped and turned to face them, a wonderland for Pokemon behind him. He shrugged. "I'm the head of this place! But yeah, I'm not the only person working here. I love Pokemon, but not enough to handle three hundred of them by myself."

Three hundred?

"I have a couple of people help out, but I do most of the hard work," Ponk flaunts, though the trio are too busy admiring the scenery to pay attention. 

It isn't a Pokemon that has Tommy distracted. By the trees making up a small forest is a person, who'd blend right in if not for the dark purple hoodie. Splitting up from Tubbo and Ranboo, he quietly approaches the person, who has dirty blonde hair and has their back turned to him. Upon drawing closer, a Pokemon in the boy's hands became visible; an Espurr.

"Don't let them boss you around, alright? Stand up for yourself and kick their asses. I'd help more but, I don't think Ponk would like that," the boy went on, addressing the Espurr, which tilted its head. "You understood all that, didn't you? Of course you did."

Pikachu jumped down from Tommy's shoulder, and landed in a pile of leaves; informing the unnamed boy of their presence. Tommy only had enough time to grab Pikachu, and when he staggered back, he locked eyes with the boy.

Something clicked inside his head and the words slipped out. "Purpled."

The boy's eyes matched his hoodie, an all too familiar dark purple. He stared back at Tommy, rendered speechless and frozen in place for a couple of seconds, until Espurr shifted in his grasp and purred at him. His mouth curving into an odd smile, his eyes wide, he quickly set Espurr down and faced Tommy.

"You're kidding," he said with a laugh, though he didn't sound happy. "Tommy? No, am I imagining things? Seven years later and you show up here, of all places. Honestly, I was expecting..."

Without missing a beat, Tommy replied; "me to be dead?"

Purpled's smile turning more genuine, he laughed bitterly. "Kind of, yeah. Kinda disappointing that you aren't." Espurr hugged his head like a lost child, cowering when Pikachu drew near. Noticing this, Purpled picked up Espurr, who buried its head in his chest.

Looking Tommy up and down, he quirked a brow. "Arceus, you've had it rough. Would love to see what beat you up," he teased, his smile changing into a smirk. "An Eevee? No, let me guess, Caterpie."

Tommy scoffed, rolling his eyes. The moment he tried to defend himself, Tubbo came barging in. "Tommy, there you are!"

Purpled's reaction was priceless, he had to take a step back. Tommy held back snickers when he stumbled over his words. "Tubbo? What, what in the world are you doing here?" 

Better yet, Tubbo didn't cheerfully greet him or offer to give him an autograph; he seemed just as surprised as Purpled. He stared straight through Purpled as if he were a ghost, and if he did plan on saying something, Ranboo interrupted it by joining the trio. 

"Tubbo, Tommy, uh, is everything alright?" He asked, glancing between the two until his eyes locked onto Purpled, who glared back at him. "Oh."

Purpled turned away and scoffed, holding Espurr close. "Nice to see you're still alive, Toms," he grumbled, glancing at Tommy from the corner of his eye. Then, without another word, he turned away and delved deep into the forests, a few Pokemon coming out of hiding and trailing behind him discouraged others from following. 

After a long silence, Ranboo cleared his throat and asked, "you know him?"

In unison, Tommy and Tubbo both replied; "yeah." 

The two gawked at one another, neither saying a word until Ranboo wedged himself between them. "Okay… can we focus on why we came here─oh, come on!" In the middle of his sentence, Tommy broke into a sprint and pursued Purpled, who had vanished from sight. 

Albeit watching him leave, neither Tubbo or Ranboo made any attempts to follow. "Do we… go after him?"

It took a moment for Tubbo to respond, observing Tommy silently until he too, left their line of sight. Only then did he half-heartedly shrug and turn his back to the forest, and walk away. "He'll be fine. Come on, I wanna see if they have a Salamence!" Grabbing Ranboo's hand, he drags him away from the forest. 

It doesn't take long to find Purpled, nestled within the trees and throwing some berries to nearby Pokemon, who run off as Tommy comes into view. His cover thrown, instead of hiding, Tommy stands in plain sight right behind Purpled, an innocent smile on his face. 

Groaning, Purpled faced him and glared. "Now what do you want?"

"Come on, we haven't seen each other in seven years and you're already sick of me?" 

Purpled wastes no time, strolling through the shrubbery in hopes of escaping this torture, but to his demise, Tommy is close behind. "Still haven't changed, I see," he calls out despite their distance, not daring to glance over his shoulder. Espurr did that for him, watching Tommy with her big, round eyes that stared into his soul. 

Tommy had to admit, it was sort of off-putting, but not quite intimidating. "Still a prick, I see. Will that ever change?"

"Nope."

From every corner, curious Pokemon watched their every move. Peeking through the bushes and perched on tree branches, they studied in silence, occasionally tilting heads at the two's consistent banter, insults thrown back and forth. How strange they were, talking so loudly that the Pokemon couldn't help but eavesdrop, even if the concept was foreign to them. 

It became blatantly clear even to them, the audience, that more than the eye could see lurks between the two. A friendship, or rivalry better said, had once flourished like a fresh flower, now decayed and lost petals every year. 

Nonetheless, whether strained or genuine, Tommy wore an apparent smile, whereas Purpled did not. "Come on, you can't say you didn't miss me just a tiny bit. Admit it, we were rivals! You don't just forget rivals."

Purpled slows to a stop, but doesn't turn around. He stays quiet, and listens to Tommy's ramblings.

"Do you remember the time we got into that fight over who won a Pokemon battle and Sam had to─"

While Tommy recalled the fond memories, which were vibrant inside his mind despite the frustration and resentment they represented, Purpled cut him off. 

"I mean, you kinda just… fucked off," he said bluntly, shrugging his shoulders. "For a while, I tried to figure out why you left, I guess it did get boring at times. You were trapped inside those bland walls, when a whole world was waiting just outside, one that so many kids who ended up luckier than you got to explore to their heart's contents."

The few instances they did get along were when they'd gush about Pokemon and one day exploring the region, and many others, as trainers. Or whether they'd be Gym leaders, Professors or Champions. Of course, it always devolved into them arguing who deserved the title of 'Champion' more.

It seems neither got their wish.

Purpled continues as he throws puffins to nearby Pokemon, talking so casually like it's no big deal. "Most surprising this is how you managed to escape. I did it too, three years later; but if I hadn't bumped into Punz, who agreed to take me under his wing, I would've been dragged back to that place."

Pokemon slowly crossed into his line of vision, reaching for the apples and puffins. Some are injured; Sawsbuck has one antler instead of two, and Deerling's left front leg is wrapped in bandages. This is a safe place for Pokemon, where they can rest and heal from their wounds, then return into the wild. 

"There were some good moments," Purpled admits, kneeling down to adjust Deerling's bandages while it feeds on an apple. "The caretakers weren't that bad, neither were the kids, but Arceus… the idea of staying there for the rest of your childhood was terrifying. No matter how happy everyone was and how charming it seemed. Of course, you already knew that─it's why you left, isn't it?"

Purpled glances at him and waits for an answer, but Tommy's jaw is clamped shut and he doesn't move a muscle. Sighing, Purpled picks up the basket of treats, and walks a little deeper into the forest, continuing to toss food to the Pokemon. 

"You know they're looking for you. Yeah, shocked me too. Sam popped up on TV earlier today, scared the shit out of me when I heard your name. Thought your story had ended, you nicked off, an inspiration to all the kids… until you were never heard from again, that is. I'm not the only one who thought you died to a Gyrados or something." 

Purpled pauses, he looks Tommy up and down, slender eyes lingering on the scars. "I was close enough."

That gets a response out of Tommy, a scoff and a roll of his eyes. "I've fought plenty of Gyrados, never left a scratch on me." 

Snickering, Purpled walks away with a smirk on his face. "Duh, your Pokemon do all the fighting." 

Everyone tried so hard to make them get along, but they agreed on one thing; they were rivals; not friends, not quite enemies. Every great trainer needed a rival, a training dummy of sorts, someone to strengthen your bond with your Pokemon by working together to defeat said rival. The two planned their future together, they'd leave the orphanage, obtain their very own Pokemon and begin their adventure. Not friends, and not quite enemies. 

"Looks like neither of us ended up where he wanted." As much as Tommy explored the vast region and planned to sail into others, he didn't have a single Gym badge to his name, and had no plans on becoming Champion. He supposes he's a little late for that, the youngest Champion ever was only eleven.

"Tell that to yourself, I have a stable job, a brother and a roof over my head. You probably live in an old, abandoned house that stinks and is full of Rattatas."

It takes a second longer for Tommy to cough up a reply. "Oh, very mature."

"Look who's talking."

From age ten to fifteen, trainers are on their journey to collect Gym badges, take on the Champion and many more challenges. Once past that age, they typically settle down into a career. Whether it be Champion of the region, Professor, a Gym Leader, or the few in-between. A select few do continue travelling, but not many. He's an exception. 

Even Purpled has settled down, albeit it isn't one of the major careers; it's not bad, so to say. Not with such beautiful scenery and a wide variety of Pokemon to take care of. Sort of like an orphanage, but for Pokemon. Tommy wouldn't mind working here, just for a bit. But as Purpled said; "no, we aren't hiring. If you join, I'll get you fired before I even think about quitting. I don't need to see you for another seven years."

A crying shame, but trainers, specifically travelers, were never known for being rich. It makes him wonder where the other kids ended up; although, aside from Purpled and Eryn, he never really got along with anyone. Can he still call Eryn a friend? After abandoning him out of the blue. It's not like he has a way of contacting him.

"Where… did you go?" Purpled suddenly asks, causing Tommy to stop dead in his tracks. He waits a few seconds, unsure if he heard correctly or if Purpled said anything at all. His answer comes in the form of Purpled peering over his shoulder, and narrowing his eyes.

All Tommy can fester is a dry chuckle and; "it's a long story."

"Hey, I've got all day. Not literally, my shift ends in two hours, but whatever. You'll probably fuck off after this, anyways. Fine by me, see you in another seven years." Purpled dismissively waved a hand, too busy focusing on plucking berry bushes and feeding approaching Pokemon, who were awfully comfortable around him.

A thought crosses Tommy's mind, and a smile crosses his face. He contemplates it briefly, informing Purpled of his wildest adventures, the unbelievable people he's met, and don't get him started on the magnificent Pokemon he's stumbled upon. Pikachu prompts him to do so, tapping his head and jerking its head towards Purpled, who delicately plucks a yellow rose and hands it to a Florges.

"It's crazy, you wouldn't believe me." The image is vivid in his head, as if he's actually there. The gorgeous meadow stretches on as far as the eye can see, filled with the prettiest of flowers, and flat rocks to lay on as not to damage them. It's a place held close to his heart, that he misses every day. Somewhere he wouldn't mind spending the rest of his life.

"I've seen some crazy shit in my life," Purpled retorts, clicking his tongue as he removed the last of the berries. From all corners, Pokemon hoped to steal some, but Espurr warded them off. 

"Heard some, too, everything from encountering undiscovered Pokemon to dreaming of Arceus. You know, the god of all Pokemon. I'll believe it when I see it. Which, mind you, I never will─and that's a good thing." He laughs, brushing his hair out of his face as he stands. 

Exhaling through his nose, Tommy's smile became somewhat sad. "Like I said, you won't believe a word I say."

Purpled doesn't protest, nor pry. Tommy brushes the feeling off as relief, but it dimmers when Pikachu hits him on the back of his head. "Fine, have it your way. Probably a boring story, anyways. You never left the region, still an orphan living in an old, abandoned house."

It's good to know Purpled hasn't changed one bit. Sure, he doesn't complain nearly as much, but he's kept a sharp tongue and ever meaner look. It comes as a relief, Tommy doesn't know what he'd do if Purpled changed; became nicer, sweeter and no longer a prick. His world would come crashing down.

He opens his mouth to speak, but the words don't come out. He reluctantly closes it, and a different thought comes to mind. His smile a little less genuine, he asks, "how do you know Tubbo?"

Purpled doesn't spare a glance, strolling through the forest with Tommy on his tail. "He's a Gym leader, everyone knows him."

"That's it? Come on, I know when you're lying. Your ears flush."

This time, he gets a satisfying reaction. "Fuck off, I'm not falling for that dumh trick again. Keep prying and I'll have Espurr blast your fucking face off." Purpled warns, and just like he said, Espurr rushes to his aid and stares at Tommy with her soulless, round eyes. 

Not frightened in the slightest, Tommy laughs. "That tiny thing? It's a baby."

"Don't underestimate her, you'll regret it."

Her purple fur is so soft and curly, a red rose tucked behind her ear. She doesn't even reach his knees, what harm can a little fluff ball like her do? Aside from staring right into his soul with those eyes, which he used to think were cute. 

"Oh, sure." As soon as he says that, Espurr's eyes glow a bright blue and the same glow surrounds his bandanna around his wrist, untying it and causing it to float in the air. "Hey!" Luckily, he snatches it back.

"What, and your yellow rat is a god?" Purpled asks, raising a brow. No more than a second later, Pikachu transforms into an Espurr and jumps down from Tommy's shoulder. "Zorua, figures. Suits you." 

Whilst they bicker, the two Espurr circle each other, copying expressions. If not for the rose, it'd be impossible to tell them apart. It cycles until Tommy picks up his, which transforms into a male Meowstic. "I'm taking that as a compliment. Do you even own that thing, or?" 

"Watch your mouth," Purpled scowls, picking up his Espurr. "She is not a thing, and will gladly rip you apart. She isn't, but these two are." His lips curving into a smirk, he gestures behind him. An Elgyem and Reuniclus burst through the trees, causing Tommy to stumble back.

Neither makes any attempt to attack, vacantly floating on either side of Purpled, who grins like a mad man at Tommy's startled expression. However, he's quick to make a comeback, although Pikachu warns him not to, he persists.

"Figures. Thought you'd be more of a bug type kind of guy, you know, weak and─"

"Don't finish that sentence."

"Puny."

As soon as the word leaves his mouth, Elgyem fires an attack, which Bingus blocks by changing into a Scizor. In the distance, Ponk can be heard warning them not to damage anything or upset the wildlife, or it's coming out of Purpled's paycheck.

"He's the one messing shit up!" Purpled calls back, audibly irritated. The anger from his face vanishes when he looks back at Tommy, who is accompanied by a Mew floating above his shoulder. He has to do a double take, no way in hell is that what he thinks it is.

There's no time to register the thought, he blinks and a Staraptor has replaced the Mew, if there was one in the first place. Without an explanation, Tommy climbs onto its back and it spreads its wings. 

He's unable to move from his position, as if his feet are glued to the ground. "Hey! Get back here! What the hell did I just see!" He shouts.

The sly grin that crosses Tommy's face reignites the spark from their childhood, a burning rivalry he assumed had died off. "I don't know, a Pokemon?" Tommy shouts, before blasting off into the air and soaring out of sight. 

It isn't with frustration that he shouts at him, nor associated with any bad feelings. An eager smile has replaced his prior frown, the fire in his chest burning bright. Years felt like centuries, he bid farewell to a body never found and buried old promises and burdens. Now, it's time he digs them up, for they were never dead in the first place. "Very funny, dickhead!"

Ranboo and Tubbo can only imagine what Tommy is up to, hearing faint remnants of his voice and another's, one which Tubbo recognizes very well, but Ranboo doesn't. Neither are surprised when Tommy is seen flying overhead on a Staraptor, a Pokemon he certainly doesn't own, but they don't tell Ponk that. 

Speaking of Ponk, their tour has come to an end. After seeing each domain; rock types have rocky plains and cliffsides, similar to ground types, but lacking sand. In the end, they were pulled towards the water types, which had to be the prettiest aside from the forest. 

The landscape looked so natural, even the cliff and waterfall, which Pokemon happily jumped off of, splashing the trio with water upon landing. Tubbo couldn't distinguish Dixie from the hoard of Vaporeon, other than a couple minor differences; bandages, scars, they were identical. 

Ranboo disagreed, not only could he easily spot Dixie resting by the rocks on her own, but he argued that each Vaporeon was distinct in appearance. Even Ponk acted surprised, telling him he had a keen eye for Pokemon, which Tubbo had to agree with.

Another thing they pointed out was; "Dixie's never really gotten along with people, doesn't exactly have the best history with them. Some days, she doesn't even like me!" Then, they turned to Ranboo and, genuinely curious, asked; "so, how did you get her to like you so much?"

Ranboo struggled to reply. He fumbled over his words, running a hand through his long hair. "Uh… I don't, I don't know? I saved her from getting run over and she just, decided to follow me for some reason." 

Ranboo had planned to say more, but Ponk cut him off, saying something about making sure Purpled hadn't damaged anything, and ran off. If something had gone wrong, hopefully Tommy wasn't involved; or they'd get lumped into it, too.  

"Why don't you work here? You'll get to see Dixie," Tubbo half-heartedly suggested, elbowing Ranboo. It wasn't until he saw Ranboo's face fall that he noticed the weight of his words, but struggled to come up with an apology. 

"How do you know that guy, Purpled?" Ranboo asks, his voice quiet. Sitting on the edge of the water, his hand resting on the cold stone, he observes Dixie from a distance. She sunbathes on the smooth rocks, watching fellow Vaporeons play, and talk to them in a language Ranboo can't begin to comprehend.

Tubbo shrugs and sits down beside him, pulling his knees to his chest. The water sparkles under sunlight, as do the scales on some Pokemon who briefly surface before disappearing again. Sometimes, he wishes he was a water-type Gym leader instead, or at the very least, a combination of the two─if that were allowed. 

"Eh, we sorta knew each other a few years ago. But when I became a Gym leader, things got kinda messy─no hard feelings between us, just haven't seen him in a while. Why?"

"Just curious."

Ranboo's captivated by Dixie, whether he's aware of it or not, he can't take his eyes off her. He hasn't known her for more than a day and a half, they randomly bump into each other─but that's how all trainers meet their Pokemon, by accident. He didn't even get to name her.

"Come on, man, there's plenty of Pokemon in the wild. I can help you find one," Tubbo offers, elbowing him again, gentler than last time. "Come on, there's literally hundreds. You met Mimikyu the same way, right? You're quite the hero."

It's almost funny, he saved Mimikyu from a hunter. It sends a shiver down his spine whenever he recalls the incident, he's lucky to have escaped with no more than a scar on his right hand. It was too injured to flee, so he reluctantly took it in as his very first Pokemon at age thirteen; he'd been afraid of them beforehand. 

An accident, he got Mimikyu through an accident, when it investigated one of his pokeballs left lying around. It didn't mean to be caught, but stuck around with him, anyways. In fear of getting hurt again, most likely. 

He shook his head and sighed, burying his head in his hands. "No, no, it's fine. I don't need a whole team, remember? It'd get bored with me. Pokemon like adventure, battles─" in the middle of standing up, his foot slipped on the wet rocks. No time to react, he fell into the deep blue lake, submerged in the blink of an eye.

Black glasses floated to the water's surface. Before Tubbo could consider jumping in, a school of Vaporeon appeared, holding up Ranboo.  

"I've got you, bossman!" Tubbo reached for Ranboo, but a Vaporeon grabbed his hand instead, biting his sleeve and pulled him into the lake. He clung to the rocks, keeping himself afloat he shooed away the Vaporeons and grabbed Ranboo. The Pokemon watched from a distance, tilting their heads and wearing mischievous grins. Tricksters, they were. Neither have a second pair of clothes on hand, and they're soaked.

Whatever Tubbo had to say, he never got the chance to. From the corner of his vision, a familiar figure shot by, and collided with a tree. Tommy scrambled to catch himself, but like his Pokemon, he descended to the ground and vanished under the treetops and shrubbery.

Tubbo couldn't move fast enough, his clothes weighed him down. "Tommy!" He ran like his life depended on it, Ranboo following shortly behind. 

Through the trees, they caught glimpses of Tommy lying atop a leaf pile. Instead of Staraptor, a small pink Pokemon flies around him, poking his face with its tiny paws. A tree snaps under Tubbo's foot, and the unknown Pokemon darts into the sky. 

Curious Pokemon peek out from the bushes, and cautiously approach Tommy, just as Tubbo and Ranboo break through. "Tommy!"

Ranboo grabs Tubbo by his hood, pulling him behind him. "Watch out!"

A small group of Pokemon stand between them and Tommy, snarling and digging their hooves into the ground. There's no opening to run past and grab Tommy, but these Pokemon are under protection and Ponk will no doubt kick them out if they participate in a battle. 

Despite the risk, Tubbo reaches for a pokeball, his eyes locked onto Tommy's unconscious body. Surely, Ponk will understand. 

Sawsbuck paws at the ground and lowers its head, but before it can charge at Tubbo head-on, Tommy rolls onto his side. Only one eye half open, he claws at the ground and sneers, his deep voice freezing every Pokemon in place. "Don't you dare take another step."

His eyes are glowing, brighter than last time. He wears a look that could kill, and it chills Tubbo to the bone. Questions fill his mind, but he doesn't dare say a single one. 

Lowering its head with a low huff, Sawsbuck and the other Pokemon retreat into the trees. Soon, they disappear and Tubbo runs to Tommy's aid, helping him to his feet. "You took quite the fall, bossman, what were you even doing?"

Tommy laughs like it's no big deal, brushing off leaves and removing twigs in his hair. "Having fun," he says, and pulls away from Tubbo. Albeit stumbling for a few seconds and nearly losing his balance, he succeeds in standing on his own. "I'm fine, see?" He spreads his arms out wide, only to fall backwards and would've landed on the ground if Tubbo hadn't caught him. 

Both are unaware of the Pokemon hiding in the treetops, keeping a close eye on Tommy, its form changes. 

"Why are your clothes so wet?"

"I think it's about time we leave," Tubbo suggests, changing the topic. An arm sling over Tommy's shoulder, he walks past Ranboo without saying a word, turning a blind eye to his deepening frown and heavy heart. 

It's all too obvious, Ranboo silently trails behind and sneaks glances towards the lake. He already has a Pokemon, Mimikyu, and didn't expect to add another to the team. He doesn't need anyone else, Dixie was just… an accident, that's all. 

It would've been nice to stay a little longer, see more of the Pokemon, some of which they've never seen in real life. But, there's no point in staying when they're drenched. They can always return another day, the sanctuary isn't going anywhere.

Upon reaching the entrance, Ponk returns, running up to the trio with a familiar Pokemon in their arms. "Hey, where do you think you're going?!" They shout.

Ranboo's heart jumps into his throat, he stands there in a daze. In Ponk's arms is Dixie, tail swinging side to side. He can't understand a word she says, but the wide smile and gleam in her eyes is impossible to miss as she calls out to him.

"Dixie's taken a liking to you, I don't think I could take her back if I tried. She's all yours now," Ponk assures, and with that, he gently sets Dixie down. She wastes no time breaking into a sprint and leaping into Ranboo's open arms. 

His heart explodes with color, he cradled Dixie who leaned into his touch and purred. For some reason, which he can't begin to comprehend, she chose him. She wasn't coerced into it after losing a battle, weakened and too injured to fight back. She wasn't picked by him as a starter, and forced to travel by his side. No, she chose him to be her trainer, her long-time friend and carer. It's... hard to wrap his mind around. They won't travel far together, or defeat many trainers and Gym leaders, but still, she's happy to stay by his side. 

"Hey, congrats!" Tommy laughed, throwing an arm over Ranboo's shoulder. However, he quickly let go when Pikachu came running towards him. It jumped onto his shoulder, slapping him in the face with its tail. "There you are, where did you run off to?" 

It ignores his questions, climbing atop his head, its tail dangling in front of his face. He removes it and attempts to grab Pikachu, who uses its tail to swat his hands away. "Oh, come on, what's put you in a bad mood?"

Purpled stands behind a tree, peering over his shoulder. Nothing to say, he doesn't flash a smile nor glare. 

Laughter swirls in Tommy's mind, accompanied by banter and arguments. Years are centuries, yet minutes and months at the same time. From the moment they met at the orphanage, both young and unaware of what fate had in store for them, they knew their friendship would span for decades. 

So, Tommy smiles, for he knows this isn't the end. Whether it be seven or two years, or a couple of months later, he'll find his way back. He always does. He waves, and what he receives is the smallest smile. An acknowledgement, this isn't the end. Merely a new beginning.

See you later, rival.

Chapter Text

Sat in a flower field was a young boy with hair as bright as the sun and eyes the colour of the ocean, body littered with scars; some years old, others fresh and still healing. Patches of discoloured skin, little details invisible at first glance. He goes by many names, but none of them quite fit, like wrong-sized clothes; so baggy it's heavy, or so small and tight that it's suffocating.

Only one of them fits, yet it's the one heard the least. Tommy, a nickname belonging to a preteen or younger, not a teenager coming onto an adult. However, no matter what was suggested to him, he'd decline the offer of a new name; one to suit the new, developing him. But if that were the case, he'd have to get a new name every couple of years.

Tommy stuck with him through the years, no matter where he went; travelling all over the vast region with a wide variety of companions, both people and Pokemon. Wherever he went, the end result didn't change; eventually he would return to the blossoming fields and lay in the sunflowers and daisies. A strange, native combination nestled amongst the marigolds and hydrangea, which came in an array of colours. 

Days would pass, rarely weeks, but he'd always come back to rest in solitude. Sleeping under the beaming sun and starry night sky, until heading out again on a new, thrilling adventure. One where he'd befriend someone new, whether Pokemon or human, it didn't really matter. But, one of the two had a longer lifespan. 

He'd sleep in the day, sun hat shielding his face from the unbearable rays that'd tan his skin, then wander at night with nothing but the moon's light to guide him. It'd continue for days, weeks, until he knew where to go next and set off; bidding a temporary farewell to the safehaven's sole resident and the wildlife.

Wherever he went, no matter how far; even if he were to cross to the other side of the world, his guardian would never leave his side. 

And that was a promise.

Tommy strolled along the street with Tubbo and Ranboo, despite his own doubt; he stayed by their side and slowly, the day was coming to an end. Though, it hadn't ended just yet; so if they hurried with a decision, then they could squeeze in one more activity, or two; depending on how late they wanted to stay up.

"Dixie really likes you, congrats, man! But do you really not have any other Pokemon?" Tommy commented, scratching Bingus' head.  

"No, no, I have one." Taking out a pokeball inside his pocket, Ranboo casually throws it out and out comes a Mimikyu. The last thing Tommy expected to see, yet somewhat suited Ranboo. With its cute, lopsided smile and tilted head, he couldn't help but wonder what lurked behind its disguise. 

"Ohhh sweet, a Mimikyu!" Bingus doesn't hesitate, leaping off Tommy's shoulder, it sniffs the air then happily greets Mimikyu. However, Mimikyu backs away and sneers, glaring despite its painted on face not changing. 

Ranboo clears his throat and wedges his foot between the two Pokemon. "Uh, Mimikyu doesn't really like Pikachus much, despite dressing like one…"

In the blink of an eye, Bingus transforms into a Zorua, surprising everyone; including Ranboo and Tubbo. Mimikyu, on the other hand, seemed rather pleased and tensions quickly eased. It extended a ribbon-like hand that shook Bingus' paw.

"Just how many Zoruas do you have?" Tubbo asks, taken aback. "You're telling me Pikachu was a Zorua this whole time?"

Tommy stifles a laugh, swallowing it he crosses his hands behind his head. "What can I say, it was fun to play along. Your reactions at the beach were hilarious─"

"The Lapras was Pikachu?! Or, Zorua─I don't know!" 

Tommy burst into laughter, unaware of Bingus transforming back into a Pikachu and standing on its two hind legs. Gazing off into the distance, it bolts off without notice, crossing the busy road and vanishing from sight. 

"Are any more of your Pokemon Zoruas? Do you just have a full team of Zoruas?!" Tubbo snapped, playfully shaking Tommy by his shoulders. The laughter began dying down, and ceased immediately at the sudden absence of Bingus. 

He looked up and down the street, a few passersby had Pikachus and more were hanging by the rooftops, aimlessly wandering around. Anyone, especially such a small Pokemon, would easily get lost in the bustling crowd. "Bingus! Where'd you go?"

Tubbo's and Ranboo's voices became background noise, even their comforting touches were ignored and hardly noticed. His eyes scanned their surroundings, cars racing past, crowds of chatter and laughter, all filling his head to the brink.

A calm voice effortlessly cut through the noise, solely heard within his mind. "Tommy." 

His heart skipped a beat, nearly leaping out of his chest; and without giving it any thought, he broke into a sprint across the road amidst traffic. Paying no mind to the car that nearly collided with him, he abandoned his friends and sped down the street. 

He ran through alleyways and jumped over discarded rubbish bins, forcing his way through ignorant crowds. He searched everywhere for Bingus. The serene, familiar yet distant voice didn't return, but his mind lingered on it. What now? What did it want now? 

Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw it. Skidding to a halt, he made a sharp turn and ran towards a lone man sticking out within the crowded pavement. His back turned to Tommy, he was oblivious to him approaching until the very last second. If he waited any longer to turn around, they would've collided.

"I believe this little one belongs to you?"

Bingus jumped straight into his arms, causing him to stagger back a little. Like that, all at once, sound returned to his surroundings; footsteps against pavement, lively chatter and cars driving past. Tommy deeply sighed, holding Bingus close. "Yeah… thanks, sir." 

The man had chin length blonde hair, blue eyes and for one reason or another, felt… familiar. Surely they had met before, whether having bumped into each other on the street or somewhere else, yet he couldn't recall a name. Then, as he tried to speak, the man interrupted him. 

"Wait, you're Tommy, right? Wil's told me a lot about you, Techno too. Mind if we have a chat?" 

The offer came as a surprise, nonetheless. Wilbur's image came to mind immediately, singing on the stage, guitar in hand and shredding away. Techno, however… it took a second for Tommy to remember him, from his appearance to deep, gruff voice and blank stare. He would've never considered the two were connected. 

Tubbo and Ranboo are likely searching for him and Bingus, calling out their names and running up and down the street, looking everywhere for them. He contemplates it, looking the unnamed man up and down… still unable to pinpoint his sense of familiarity, and nods.

"Sure, why not. If you're a friend of theirs, you're a friend of mine." 

If anything went wrong, Bingus would have his back.

The two sat outside a small restaurant, a supposedly popular one, but Tommy's never heard of it. Then again, he never was one for eating out. Rather than find a table inside, they sit outside under an umbrella, right in front of the public's view. Bingus maintains its Pikachu form, sat on Tommy's lap and eyes glued to the man, who's name is Phil. 

After ordering their food; a black coffee and cheesecake for Phil, coke and hot chips for Tommy, they begin their conversation. 

"I recognize you."

If Phil had his drink, he would've choked on it. His eyes widen and he stammers out; "you do?"

Tommy hums, resting his chin on his palm. Like Bingus, his eyes burn through Phil's skull. "Yeah, from the interview about the new rule." 

"Oh, that one…" Phil chuckles, easing back into his chair.

It'd been a while since the interview came on, broadcasted live. A couple of months or so, possibly even a year; but it'd been him, alright. He called the new 'world renowned' rule silly and unnecessary, as trainers as young as ten have been travelling the region for years. All it took were a few concerned parents to ruin it; if parents wanted to keep their children a little longer, then fine. But making it a rule for every kid in the region was ridiculous.

"What, it was good. You had a point, too, what age did you start your adventure?"

Not even attempting to be sneaky, he leaned to the side to check for a belt of pokeballs, but saw nothing. Were they in the satchel he carried, or one of his pockets?

Phil cleared his throat, causing Tommy to pry his eyes away and straighten his posture. Arms loosely crossed over his chest, Phil wore a sly smile and quirked a brow. "Had a Pokemon since I was eight, left when I was ten. What about you?"

"Same as you. Well, I left on the day of my tenth birthday."

"Really?"

"What?"

Phil paused for a moment, as if carefully selecting his following words, then chuckled and shook his head. Resting an arm on the glass table, Tommy's eyes flicker to the odd bracelet around his wrist. More of a black band, a few pokeballs dangled from it in their miniature forms. 

"Nothing, I just thought since the rule's been in place for a while, and you're just a teen… how long have you been on your journey?"

"Seven years."

The waitress returns with their orders, setting down the two drinks and cheesecake then returning inside. Tommy digs in immediately, taking a long sip of his coke and talking before Phil could even think of a response.

"So, Techno! When was the last time I saw him… a year ago, two? And Wilbur… I've looped his music, it's great, but I've never been able to catch it live."

Phil hums, drinking from his cup and cutting into his cheesecake. "That's Wilbur for ya, he's all over the place. Now more than ever with that band of his."

"Are you…"

Phil laughs. "His dad, yeah. Not Techno's, though, just an old family friend."

That made sense. If he squinted, he could see some resemblance between Wil and him, although they had different hair and eye colours. Frankly, he only saw similarities because of the reveal, but Techno on the other hand, was obvious. He was obviously older than Wil by a bit and closer to Phil's age. Heck, he had the build of a Beartic. If Phil said they were related, he would've had a heart attack.

For the next handful of minutes, neither said much. Eating in silence and cracking jokes about their friends; Phil shared a few memories from Wil's childhood, such as the time he got swept up by a wave caused by a Gyrados because he wanted to impress his friends, or when he visibly agitated a Tauros and barely escaped with his life. He could go on and on for hours.

He had a few stories of Techno, but they weren't nearly as entertaining. Although, he did mention that Techno used to be a champion, and retired not that long ago; only seven years. Before that, Phil had been champion─and that's where Tommy recognized him. He looked so much younger then, longer hair that shined under the sunlight and eyes that glowed with victory and determination.

His matches were one of the few things Purpled and him could agree on, temporarily settling their disputes to sit down and tune into one of his live performances. Every time without fail he'd wipe the floor with a challenger, and everyone, including them, would chant his name. Until he didn't.

They called him an angel. A beacon of hope in spite of how many dreams he crushed, the flames were never extinguished; merely temporarily weakened after facing loss viewed by thousands, it would strengthen over time. Techno won, Phil described it as 'passing on the torch' and that his time had ended. 

Purpled and him were devastated that day, and didn't watch a single one of Techno's matches. Yet, the other children would chant his name, calling him 'The Blade' and insisting he bested Phil. That was given, he had won, after all, but many thought their angel had gone easy on him, in hopes of one day returning for the throne after a break. He never did. 

Anyone in his situation would be gushing over their idol, asking a million questions and wanting to know the ins-and-outs of his life after passing on the title. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity, but no one stops and stares, no one bats an eye. It's been years, if Tommy were to ask, he'd likely be told; "it's been years, mate. It's all in the past." 

Just like how the days at the orphanage are long lost, the bickering between Purpled and him about who'd defeat Phil first and claim his crown. He never used to ponder on it, the memories were locked away in the darkest corner of his mind and forgotten. Now, they're overflowing and spilling into his mind, forcing him to notice them for once. 

"They're still looking for you, you know. Even though it's been what, six years?"

He sputters, drink spilling over the glass table. Still coughing, he scrambles to clean it up with a napkin. "W-Who is? I haven't done anything illegal…" He mumbles, then pauses. "Does ambushing poachers count? Breaking a few bones?"

Phil laughs, a little startled. "No, I meant the orphanage. The one you escaped from, mate."

Tommy flinches. Why use the term 'escaped'? As if he'd been captive against his will. Admittedly he didn't leave the grounds, a high fence stood in the way; and he didn't exactly have the option to leave unless adopted, but the word made his stomach twist and churn. He wouldn't call his achievement escaping, but he couldn't think of a different term.

"But you're practically an adult now, so it doesn't matter, I don't see the point in it," Phil says half-heartedly, finishing the last of his cheesecake. "Kinda curious how you survived this long, you have a nice place to stay, right? After six or seven years on your own, you must have a job by now." 

"Of course I do," Tommy blurts out, eyes mesmerised by the spotless table, he can just about catch his reflection. "But I don't stay in one place, I explore. That's the whole point of being a Pokemon trainer."

Phil said something along those lines in his interview. How every child, no matter how old or inexperienced, had the desire to explore. Whether it be to far off regions or through a forest and some shrubbery, a hunger for adventure stringed them along. There are two categories of trainers; those who settle for easy jobs, such as Purpled, and those who will never be satisfied. Not until every stretch of land has been explored, not until every gym leader and champion is defeated and every battle won.

Tommy will never be satisfied.

He scratches the back of Bingus' head, who hasn't made a sound, nor blinked in the last minute. Just as his lips part, a voice bellows inside his head. "Tommy." It makes him flinch, his hand freezing. His eyes narrow and his brows furrow, but luckily, it goes unnoticed. 

"So what's your end goal?"

"What?" If he hadn't wasted the last of his coke, he would've spat out the rest. 

Phil seems a bit perplexed by his astonishment, raising a brow. "You know. Do you want to become the next Champion," he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest, an imaginary crown embedded with jewels sat atop his head, "a gym leader, or maybe even a professor in a far-off region… what's your dream?"

Purpled wanted to become a champion or at the very least, a gym leader if Tommy beat him to it. Nowadays he works in a Pokemon sanctuary, which isn't so bad, but it's leagues away from his childhood dream; an unachievable aspiration. There's no telling if he even attempted the gym challenge, and strived for his dream. 

He himself used to strive for all three things; depending on if being champion worked out or not, he would try his luck at the remainder. Similarly, he ended up without a single one. 

"I'm not sure… I left the orphanage and haven't really thought about it since. Just explored and made companions," he answers, keeping his gaze fixated on the glass. Again, the voice beckons. His fingers curl into a clenched fist. 

"Why'd you leave, was it that bad?"  

Tommy sighs, shaking his head. From the corner of his eye, he sees Bingus, who slowly moves from its position, having held it for nearly five minutes. It climbs up his arm and onto one shoulder, then onto the other. "No, I just… wanted to explore. Chase my dreams. We weren't allowed any Pokemon of our own, on occasion we'd meet some from the outside world, but just for the day or a couple."

He opens his mouth, then clamps it shut. The voice doesn't return, and after a few beats of silence, he speaks. "I didn't think anyone would miss me, honestly. Didn't put much thought into it. I was just one kid out of a hundred, maybe not that many, but it felt like it." Hundreds of blank faces, tuned out voices and snarky remarks. Where are they now, could one be champion? He hasn't been paying attention to the latest gossip or news, it changes so frequently.

A moment of silence passes, but it's not really quiet; everything is too lively. From clinking of cutlery to the music playing inside the restaurant, they may be silent but the world refuses to be. And so, the moment of silence shared between them doesn't last very long. The voice returns, louder this time, it makes him jump. 

"Tommy."

If he weren't so certain, it sounded like the voice came from right beside him, speaking sternly and holding so much volume that it caused his ears to ring afterwards. His hands instinctively fly up to his ears, as if that'd change anything.

His eyes shut tight, they snap open as someone touches his shoulder. It's Phil, of course it's him, his face laced with concern and words teetering on the tip of his tongue. Humans eyes aren't meant to glow. "Tommy─"

They could settle it like civilised people, brush this off and resume their lovely conversation. But Bingus running off took the final straw, Tommy clambered past Phil and still wasn't fast enough, just narrowly missing Bingus. "Wait, wait!"

Shoving Phil aside, Tommy chases after Bingus, who continuously transforms into a new form in the blink of an eye. Why now? He made a promise, and he came so close to fulfilling it. The day is nearly over, just a few more hours before the moon takes its place in the sky and his promise is accomplished. He just needs a little more time.

"I said wait!" He yells at the top of his lungs, and wraps an arm around Bingus, who has reverted into mew. "Why now?! Every time, you have the worst timing, you know that?! For one day, can't you just leave me alone?!"

Bingus tilts its head at him, mewling. Big round eyes stare up at him, floating between his clenched hands. Anger bubbles in his throat, but when he opens his mouth to scream and shout, it refuses to be heard. 

So he lowers his head in shame. "Just… get it over with already."

"Tommy!" The voice doesn't belong to it, but Phil, who is running towards him. Why does he look so… scared?

A horn blares, ringing out in Tommy's head. Bright headlights contrasting against the darkening sky shine on him. He doesn't run or shout for Phil, instead, he throws his arms around Bingus and closes his eyes. 

The truck screeches to a halt, the driver jumping out and running in front of his vehicle. Phil stands on the pavement, using all of his strength not to drop to his knees or shout. He blinked, he closed his eyes for half a second as a bright light consumed his vision, and then, Tommy was gone. 

In the blink of an eye, he had vanished into thin air. 

"Tommy… if you do find him, keep an eye on him. He… has the habit of running away in the nick of time. So if─if you do manage to find him, Phil, please, whatever you do─don't let him out of your sights."

Fuck.

A sweet scent of berries and nectar fills his nostrils, his eyes slowly flutter open and green fills his vision. He's surrounded by colours, bright yellow sunflowers that face the open sky, tall green grass that reaches his elbows and red berry bushes. He stands in a flower field that stretches on for miles, flat plains and not a single Pokemon in sight; aside from Bingus, who circles him and flies in front of him. 

Realisation settling in, Tommy glares and pushes Bingus away, strutting through the stunning meadow he would hide in. Like wind chimes, childish laughter from distant memories fill his ears, but he tunes it out, along with the memories popping into his mind. "Why now, were you getting lonely or some stupid shit?"

His glowing eyes lock onto the large Pokemon resting on the crushed flowers, sat in between two oak trees and a wall of berry bushes. It stares Tommy down and cocks its head, proceeding to speak without a mouth. Its voice echoes inside his mind, unheard by the world. "You said you'd return yesterday, and yet, you stayed."

Scowling under his breath, Tommy averted his gaze, his shoulders hunched. "I… made plans. Stuff came up, it's only one day!"

"One day added onto a week." 

Not meeting its gaze didn't matter, every word echoed in his head and drove him insane. It sounded awfully human, but if you listen closely, the words stretch and bounce off the walls of his skull. What stands before him is the farthest thing from a human.

Lifting his head, he clenched his fists and stared deep into its crimson red eyes. "I want to leave."

A moment passed, before it responded in an equally calm voice. "But why would you want to leave?"

This is different, despite giving no clarification; it's clear. He departs every so often, temporarily travelling the world until he is eventually called back here, back home. This isn't the same. 

Digging his heels into the ground, Tommy raises his voice. "I've made friends! People care about me."

As much as it burns, maintaining eye contact for so long, Tommy doesn't dare turn away, doesn't succumb and admit defeat. No, for once, he is fighting back with a goal in mind. A prize to be won at the price of victory. It wracks his brain, gives him a headache, but he stands his ground. 

And to his relief, which he does his best not to express, Arceus stands. He knows its words before they leave its mouth, yet he's still surprised. "Fine, I'll allow it. But only if you defeat me in battle. Then, you can leave forever."

Seven whole years have passed, flying by like weeks, months, seconds. In the snap of a finger he had grown from a naive ten year old boy to a capable teenager, steadily becoming an adult. As quick as the years went by, he has no shortage of fond memories held close to his heart. "What?!"

His balance wavers, his knees buckle; but he doesn't look away. "What?! Hang on, no! I don't want to leave forever! I still want to come back and see you!" His composure beginning to break, it all shattered when Bingus flew in front of him, gave an apologetic whine and flew towards Arceus before he could reach out one last time.

Arceus' gaze harshened, setting his body aflame from the inside, its words drilling through his head. Though his eyes were closed, he could see Arceus standing before him, towering over him. As a child, he would hug its pillar-like legs and catch a ride, or attempt to climb its body; but the air would always get too thin and he'd fall.

He winces as laughter, his laughter swirls around his head, overflowing with so much joy. He'd sleep by its side, on the smushed sunflowers and cotton, and awake to a different kind of flower to start the new day.

"It's your choice. Us, or them."

Chapter Text

Tv static and cigarette smoke fills the apartment, swirling around in their heads. Sighing, Wilbur stands by the balcony, peering out into the hazy, darkening sky as the sun takes its leave. Inside the room, Sam paces back and forth, muttering to himself. 

"You're telling me he's been in this region the whole time?" 

Taking one last look at the cloudy sky, Wilbur steps inside and drops his cigarette into the ashtray. "He probably wouldn't be able to afford a flight, and It's too far to fly via Pokemon," he answers in a blunt tone, brushing loose strands of hair from his face, he falls back onto a chair. "He seemed alright when I met him, if you told me he ran away with nothing, not even a backpack of supplies, at age ten─ I would've called you blind, stupid."

A moment of silence passes, neither make eye contact. They've been bickering back and forth for hours, or at least, it feels like it. They haven't gotten anywhere, it's starting to feel pointless. "Who knows, maybe he made a living for himself, how else would he have survived?"

Sam stops dead in his tracks. "With no education, no… nothing. He was ten, Wilbur. What ten year old can survive on their own?"

Wilbur shrugs. "That's it, maybe he found someone to take him in." The idea has popped up a few times in their conversation, but quickly dismissed. Sam argued that this new 'guardian' would've seen the missing posters or interview by now and made contact. All the lines are dead, just prank calls and mistaken identity. It's repeating again. They're too late.

Sighing and adjusting his glasses, Wilbur stands. "It's getting late, I have stuff to do."

"It's six."

Removing his glasses, Wilbur narrows his eyes. "Fundy expects me home. I promised him I'd be back by five."

Sam doesn't say anything, just backs away from the door. Only when Wilbur walks by and reaches for the door does he speak, in a quiet, pleading voice. "If you find anything, let me know."

Wilbur's hand hovers above the doorknob. He doesn't turn to face him when he speaks, his voice tired and groggy. "Look, I want to find him as much as you do, Sam, but it's been years since either of us saw him. He's a tough kid, I'm sure he's fine."

The door creaks open, and as he steps outside into the long hallway, he speaks again, this time looking Sam in the eyes. "If I find anything, if Niki or somebody happens to bump into him─I'll let you know." 

A small smile curves the corner of Sam's mouth, lighting up his tired, sullen face, and he nods. "Thank you, Wil."

"No problem." Then, the door slowly creaks shut and after hours of back and forth talking and brainstorming, Sam is left alone in his apartment. It's not a welcomed feeling, but one he should be used to by now. He isn't.

Techno isn't expecting any visitors when someone knocks on his door. Not that he has any way of knowing beforehand, no phone-lines reach this far and Phil only sends letters when they're important, and they're delivered by Pokemon, not people. 

His first thought is a hiker. Someone who's managed to climb this far and stumbled upon his little cabin, nestled in the snow and invisible at first glance. Any brave person would approach it out of curiosity, since what kind of madman would live all the way up here? Isolated from the whole world. They must think it's abandoned, yet knock anyway. 

On second thought, he knows that's unlikely, near impossible. In all his years of residing here, only two people have come knocking at his door. Others don't make it this far, or don't dare approach his cabin. Which leaves only one possibility.

"Phil?" As he expected, when he opens the door, he's greeted by Phil, his face almost entirely hidden to shield him from the cold and hail. Techno lets him inside and immediately he starts shedding, removing his heavy hood and coat, then mask and gloves and warms up by the fireplace. No matter how many times he travels here, always on foot due to his Pokemon being unable to withstand the cold, he can never get used to it.

"I don't see how you do it," he says with a laugh, rubbing his hands by the fire. He got frostbite the first few times, but overtime gained thicker skin and heavier clothing. "Seriously, mate, I'd die if I were you. I wouldn't last a day out here." It's true, he's never stayed longer than a day.

Techno chuckles, watching his Pokemon eagerly run to Phil's side. After all, it's been months since he's visited, and those months either feel like days or years. Sometimes he just decides to stop by, "I missed ya, mate," other occasions he has news to deliver, too important to be delivered by letter. 

And as much as Techno enjoys his company and at times, wishes he could stay for longer, live with him even; like the good old days, the question lurks in the back of his mind. So loud that he can't go another second without an answer. "So, what is it this time? More news on the rule?" He asks, not prying too much as he boils a kettle for tea.

Mostly, it's simple things that fascinate Techno and are worth informing in person. Such as the forming of Wil's band or the success of their first album and concert. Which were one of the few things he left the mountain for, he couldn't resist congratulating him in person. 

Unfortunately, plenty of people recognized him and they only found solitude in a hotel room. It's been years since then, yet he remembers every song by heart. How many albums have they released now? Phil assures him they're as popular as ever. Which comes as no surprise. 

Phil's response is oddly delayed. Slipping off his boots, he baby-talks Floof, even though she's a ninetales now, and Steve. As if he didn't hear Techno's question, but there's no way he didn't. 

"Uh, Phil?" 

He pauses, and falls silent. Ruffling the fur on Floof's head, he stands and faces Techno with a sad smile that gets his heart and mind racing with terrible thoughts. What's happened? It could be a million things─a controversy on Wil's band that ruined their reputation or endangered him, or something about Fundy. 

This situation, that look on Phil's face, reminds him of when he heard Wil and Sally broke up after so many years of marriage and adoration. Making Wil a single parent, taking care of Fundy by himself whilst Sally continued her role as a Gym leader. It's been consensual, they both agreed to it and yet… 

"It's not about Wil," Phil reassures, but his tone doesn't lighten, "or Fundy."

"Then… who, what else?"

Techno scrambles his brain for names, but nothing comes up. There's Ranboo, an old family friend who he hasn't seen in years, close to a decade even, but that can't be it. Niki is quickly ruled out as a possibility, a close friend he met through Wilbur, he doesn't even want to consider her being in danger. 

Phil sighs, and Techno watches him trying to get the words out, but as he gestures with his hands and stares at the ground, it just won't work. Finally, after what felt like minutes of waiting, he managed to speak. "It's… you know the kid who visited you all those years ago? Tommy. He's, uh… how do I put this…" 

"Dead?"

Phil jumps, and Techno feels the colour drain from his face, only for Phil to practically shout; "no! No! Not dead." 

But clearly, he's not in good shape, either. 

"He's… missing. But also, not. He ran away from the orphanage at age ten and has been popping up since─Wil's met him, Niki too, but he always… vanishes before people can get answers. No one can pinpoint his location, and right now, nobody has any idea where he is. Seven years he's been missing for, Techno. Seven years."

How can somebody be missing, but not at the same time? How can they be certain the person they met was Tommy? When was he last seen, weeks, months, years ago?

It's been that long, huh. Somedays it feels like just yesterday he carried him to the couch with a blanket and cooked him soup, other days he realises it's been years, and he… wonders if he'll ever see him again. 

At last his aimless thoughts are answered. He knew Tommy for no more than a day, not even that; and yet, he remembers every detail. The young face of a boy who's been through so much when his life hasn't properly begun, his reluctance that melted so quickly, and his smile. What does he look like now? Surviving on his own for so long… is his body littered with scars, does he get enough to eat or is his body malnourished?

So many questions swirling around in his brain, it's going to drive him insane. 

"I'm sure they'll find him, I think. Niki saw him not that long ago, Wilbur said he's probably still in the area─Techno?!" The words die in Phil's throat as Techno rushes past him, throwing on his coat and returning his Pokemon to their pokeballs. In the blink of an eye, he's opening the door, letting in the cold air and snow that slumps at his feet. "Techno!"

"Look, Phil, they're still looking for him, aren't they?" Throwing on his hood, he glances over his shoulder. "I'm going to help them. If he is still here, then… I'll find him, and you don't have to help me, but."

Before he can finish, Phil is already slipping on his boots and everything, smiling at Techno before pulling up his mask. "But you know I will. Come on, mate, there's no time to waste." 

He ventures outside every morning and afternoon, yet when he closes the door behind him and wind blows into his face, something feels different.

The streets Wilbur walks down have never seemed more lifeless. It's a cold day, rain is expected, so people start heading inside, leaving the streets rather empty. He strolls through the street, hood over his head to avoid being recognized, and pulls out a cigarette from his pocket and lights it.

He hates how he keeps checking his surroundings, glancing off to the side or over his shoulder like it's second nature. He despises the hope burning in his chest, that is practically dead, dimly flickering and losing life. 

There's no guarantee he's here, lurking around the streets or in an apartment. Perhaps he did make a living for himself and has a job, or he's taken a risk and decided to fly across the ocean via the help of his Pokemon, or just maybe, he has enough money to afford a flight to a distant region. He could be there right now, relaxing or exploring a different region, living his life with newfound family or alone, while they're lingering on the past memories and fears of his shortcomings. 

This could all be for nothing, and if so, he'll laugh. His chest will heave with relief and finally, he can move on. Because for someone he's only met once, and didn't know for more than a day that happened many years ago, Tommy's someone he just can't forget. And it's stupid, he knows, but after learning more from Sam and Niki about how much he's grown and how he's still just am ambitious, smart-ass kid… He just wants to see it for himself.

But supposedly, it's too much to ask. Years have passed, he's changed a lot─way too much, has Tommy? Or is he lost in time, aimlessly wandering the world and waiting to be found.

He's just getting to his head again.

"Tommy! Arceus, where'd you go?!" A familiar voice shouts, rapid footsteps approach Wilbur, causing him to snap out of his thoughts. He catches two familiar boys running towards him in a panic, both shouting… Tommy.

But it has to be someone else, Wilbur doesn't let it get to him. "Hey! Tubbo, Ranboo, are you two okay?" 

Immediately they turn to face him, and bolt to his side. As they draw closer, he sharply inhales, taking in a breath of smoke that causes him to cough a bit. There's at least a million Tommys in the world and if they had encountered him earlier, prior to losing him, then they would've told him. Right? 

But seeing Tubbo's panicked expression gives him second thoughts. 

"It's Tommy─" he sputters, catching his breath as he stops in front of him. "We found Tommy, we bumped into him yesterday and I swear I planned on telling you, I swear, but I just─we were having so much fun that I forgot, Wil."

The cogs in Wilbur's brain screech to a halt. "You… you found him?"

Tubbo talks in between rigid breaths, Arceus, how long has he been running for? "Yes! And we were just, hanging out all day yesterday and today. Things were going okay until his Pikachu suddenly ran off and he chased after it! It's been nearly two hours!"

It took a few moments for Wilbur to register his words, his mind lingering on the fact that they had found Tommy. Astonishment filled his veins, then excitement─this was their chance. He had to go tell Sam! But then it dawned on him. Tommy isn't with them, they lost him almost two hours ago.

Who knows where he is now, and if they aren't quick enough, he'll be gone again. Like grains of sand, just out of his, their reach. No, he hasn't waited years just to miss another opportunity. 

They'll find him, they have to.

"Where did it happen?"

As soon as Techno surrounds himself with people and cafes and life, everything just feels… Right. He hasn't been here in ages, he came here last with Wilbur and discussed… well, everything. Mainly how his band took off and dealing with the popularity and fame, but the conversation quickly derailed into whatever they could think of. Casual day-to-day life, Fundy, their favourite songs and restaurants… of which they visited quite a few. 

He remembers each one they visited, and what they ordered. Ramen at one place, chicken and rice at another, classic fries and burger at another… the day felt much longer than a day. Much, much longer, and so long ago. Yet after all these years, aside from one place shutting down, nothing has changed. 

If he were to suggest another meet up, for no reason in particular─just to hang out, as normal friends do, would he agree? Would they visit these places like that day and laugh at each other's jokes for hours, or will they sit in silence outside a cheap restaurant and avoid eye contact. The end result is so scary and uncertain, he almost doesn't want to ask.

Phil nudged him and pointed ahead, to nowhere in particular, a sidewalk by plain buildings. Then, he waved a hand in the air and called out; "hey, Wil!"

And then Techno saw it, him. Appearance wise he hasn't changed at all, the same brown hair, glasses and beanie. It's bound to be the same with his personality, carefree as ever and humorous. He hasn't particularly changed, either.

When they cross eyes, there's no doubt in his mind, they're here for the same reason. Wilbur's reaction brings a smile from his face, going from glum to wide-eyed and mouth agape. Turning on his heel, Wilbur runs to him, as if It's been─

Years…

"Techno? What are you doing here?!" He exclaims and throws his arms around him. He used to joke they were brothers, looking up to Techno as an older brother figure, despite looking nothing alike. Hell, they don't even have the same body shape, but Wilbur did dye his hair bright pink as a child to match.

And like that, the fear unravels and the tension in Techno's shoulders fade. Wilbur pulls away before he can return the hug, and he hesitates before speaking, rubbing his neck. "I… the same reason as you, I presume."

The colour drains from Wilbur's already pale face, and his eyes flicker to Phil. "What? But how did you…"

"I bumped into him, too," Phil admits with a heavy voice. "Not long ago. Recognized him from your description and in the middle of our conversation, he just… ran after his Pikachu, couldn't catch up to him."

Despite clearly having something to say, a comment to make, Wilbur kept his mouth shut and covered his face with his hands. "Is it even worth it? He's just… he's just a kid. Clearly, he's doing fine on his own!"

A kid who's practically a stranger, but not to Sam. To him, he's a child he failed to protect; it was every caretakers' job to keep an eye on him or to look for him when he escaped, and yet the blame is on him and only him. Seven years later and he still hasn't given up, the burden will increase on his shoulders until it breaks them.

And he fears that he's reached that point. 

"We can split up, cover ground faster," Phil suggests, biting his tongue at his own thoughts. No one would've stayed in the same area after two whole hours, he's long gone. But there's fear in Tubbo's eyes, and he tightly clutches his arm. It pushes Phil to ruffle his hair and lie. "Hey, we'll find him." 

But Tubbo, of all people, are smarter than that.

He's known Tommy the longest, although there was a gap between their encounters and friendship. They clicked it off instantly and from that day forward, despite not seeing each other for ages, they were friends. Even if they would never see each other again, they were friends. 

Although Ranboo came later, he knows just as much about Tommy, which isn't a lot. Eager and brave, albeit somewhat naive and careless, and shrouded in mystery. Back then, his eyes didn't glow… did they? No, he would've remembered something so strange. So… unusual. Just remembering it, his piercing gaze, sends a chill down his spine. He tugs at the scarf around his neck, and shakily sighs.

What happened to you, Tommy?

And so with that, they split up.

He's been everywhere already. Questioning shopkeepers and random passersby, giving detailed descriptions of Tommy and every single one shakes their head. Nothing to give other than a shake of their head, not even a 'no', or 'sorry'. No good luck. 

He wishes he was at his gym, solely for the purpose of punching something. With or without gloves, whether it be a punching bag or a person, just something to unleash this anger at. Tommy doesn't get to do this, to make friends and connections just to drop them out of the blue. And he hates to admit it, but if they don't find him and years later he returns, he'll probably welcome him back with open arms.

"We'll find him," Ranboo reassured, resting a hand on his shoulder. "He wouldn't just, leave without a goodbye. He'll come back."

Tubbo dryly chuckles, the corners of his mouth curving into a small smile. "That's the thing, Ranboo. He's done this so, so many times before… He'll come back, yeah, in five years." 

And maybe, by then, it won't be worth it anymore.

A Latios cuts through the grey clouds, soaring just out of view. Tommy holds on with the last of his strength, his head low as they fly through the clouds. A bruised hand resting limp on Latios' wing, he lays his head against its neck and lets his eyes drift close, just for a second. They have to be close.

When he opens his eyes, he's falling. He descends through clouds and as he nears the ground, his eyes drift close. Latios spiralling towards him is the last thing he sees.

And when he opens his eyes again, they crash into a tree on the sidewalk. His hold on Latios slipping, he lands in a bush. It's surprisingly comfy, like a cloud… but his nap is interrupted by a startled voice that hurts his ears. "Tommy? What the hell?!"

Groaning, he forces his eyes open and after his vision clears, he sees Purpled looming over him, and his reaction is priceless. He tries to laugh, but it sends a wave of pain through his body and he rolls onto the ground. "Surprise…"

He glances back at the tree, and Latios has vanished without a trance, no evidence of it being there in the first place, aside from a broken branch. 

Purpled follows his gaze, and finds nothing. "Where the hell did you come from? The sky?" He asks, and Tommy can't help but chuckle, although it's strained and he winces. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you."

Tommy gives a thumbs up, and is helped to his feet by Purpled, an arm slung over his shoulder. "I'm taking you to a hospital."

Tommy hums, feeling his belt, which has one pokeball less. "Would it kill you to make a quick detour?"

"No, but it might kill you. Seriously, what the hell happened to you?" It's hard to differentiate between new and old wounds, though none are serious or covered by band aids. Purple and blue bruises decorate his pale skin from elbow to wrist, and there's a swelling bruise on his right cheek, spreading to his cut lip. 

"What'd you do, fight a Pokemon in hand-to-hand combat?" 

They both fall silent and Tommy halts. He's limping, one pant leg rolled up to expose more bruising and a cut. Nothing too concerning, but enough to concern Purpled. He stares at Tommy, his eyes burning a whole through the side of his head and yet he doesn't dare look him in the eyes. Behind those band aids and messy blonde hair in dire need of a haircut is a childhood friend and rival, who he promised to always stay with; whether friend or enemy, or anywhere in between.

And he ran after him that day, in fear of that promise breaking. He ran as fast as his short legs would take him, but it wasn't enough. He got caught and no matter how loud he yelled, "I need to find him! Let me go!" They wouldn't listen and dragged him back inside. Only then, from that moment onwards did it feel like a prison, despite the genuine laughter and smiles and joy surrounding him. It wasn't the same after that day.

Maybe it's a good thing he didn't succeed. Or else he'd be just as beat up and worn out, lost in the wide world that could sometimes seem too small. Or by chance, if they were in this together and Tommy had someone to lean on, they'd both be fine.

There's no way to tell, and there's no point in reminiscing. 

"Where did you say you were heading?" 

The smallest smile crosses Tommy's face, and it's enough to make him smile back.

Perhaps what remains of their friendship and rivalry, a weak, flickering flame, can still be saved and can grow again. Maybe… It's not too late. But only time will tell.

Seconds pass in the blink of an eye, and although his shoulder is starting to ache and Tommy nearly trips up a few times, neither take a break, nor even suggest it. They keep walking down the street, ignoring the weird looks they receive from strangers and kindly declining offers for help. It's clear they don't need it, because even though Tommy can hardly stand on his own, they're both laughing at the most ridiculous jokes and memories. 

"What about Puffy, do you know where she is now?" Tommy asks, beginning to walk alongside Purpled, instead of letting his feet drag along. 

Purpled ponders on it for a moment, then answers; "she works at a diner now, Captain Puffy's, she calls it. Didn't give us credit for the name, though." 

They often refer to her as 'Captain' Puffy because of how she'd dress, and how she literally dressed up as a pirate for Halloween. From then on she frequently brought her captain hat to work, and sometimes let kids wear it. Practically everyone began using the nickname, but he and Tommy were the first to come up with it. 

Skeppy still lives with his friend, Bad, the same guy everyone used to joke he was dating. Hannah and Boomer were rather young when they started working at the orphanage, and as far as he remembers, one is a water or fairy type gym leader and the other still helps kids and is taking life slow, living peacefully. 

There were other caretakers, but those are the ones they both recall fondly, and were the closest to. They've moved on with their lives, as has everyone, plenty of kids from the orphanage were adopted and found loving homes over the years. Such as him, but…

Anyone would be curious. A stranger would have little hesitancy asking away, but he can't say anything at all. Is it any of his business? They aren't strangers, but are close enough. In the middle of a fine line between strangers and friends. 

"You know… I'm glad I bumped into you. I was wondering how you were doing, how… everyone was, but I never actually thought that I'd see you again. Or that you'd be where you are now," Tommy admits, tilting his head to the sky. 

Why is he being so sappy all of a sudden? 

A shit-eating grin spreads across his face, and Purpled already knows what to expect. "To be honest, I thought you'd be way worse off."

"Speak for yourself!"

The words slip out before he can register them, and his mouth clamps shut. Tommy's face softens and he lowers his head, but a weak smile remains. 

"Yeah… it hasn't been the best couple of years, but I think that's obvious. I'm doing better, though."

"Oh, sure. Can you even walk?"

"Of course I can!" He raises his voice, then pauses. "But uh… I don't want to. It's much easier just having you drag me along," he admits, and lets his body go limp, equalling more work for Purpled. Heck, he almost dropped him. 

"Is that so? On second thought, you can help yourself," Purpled threatens, but before he can completely let go of Tommy so he collapses on the concrete sidewalk, arms wrap around him. 

"Don't even think about it, bitch!"

The two tussle, Purpled, trying to pry Tommy off him as he clings to him and loudly announces what great friends they are and that he'd be betraying years of fun memories if he were to do this. It simply fuels his eagerness to do so. Yet, despite how rough they are, they both break into laughter. 

Until it stops. Tommy's arms go limp, and it takes Purpled a second to realise he's distracted, staring off into the distance. Where multiple people stood, loudly discussing something─arguing. He recognizes two people immediately; Tubbo and Wilbur, the lead singer of a famous band.

Then, he noticed Tommy leaving his side, sprinting to the group. Multiple instances he came close to falling flat on his face, he stumbles but keeps running. "Tubbo! Ranboo! Wil!" He screams, and collides with Tubbo, then Ranboo. 

Purpled watches from afar. They laugh and hug, Tubbo effortlessly lifts Tommy off the ground, holding him so tight that his spine might break. "Don't ever do that again!" He shouts while laughing.

As soon as he lets go, which takes a while, Tommy's attention is stolen by another. "Holy shit… I, I can't believe this. Tommy?" 

Tommy throws himself at Wilbur, and whilst he clings to him, high-level Techno. "You too?! It's been ages, man!" He greets, before launching himself off Wilbur and latching onto Techno's back, arms around his neck. He climbs onto his shoulder. 

"Alright, alright, I know it's been─what, four, five years? But that's a bit much," Techno jokes, lifting Tommy off his shoulders and back onto the ground. He ruffles his hair, and cracks a grin. "But, eh, it is nice to see you again. But you haven't really changed much, appearance-wise."

"Excuse you! I was like, up to your waist last time we met!" Tommy yaps, literally bouncing around. "Don't give me that shit, Techno! I'll grow to be taller than you!"

"I'm pretty sure you stop growing at, what, seventeen? How old are you?"

Running a hand through his hair, Purpled observed the group converse and take turns interacting with Tommy, everything from hugging him, ruffling his hair, and as Tubbo did─slapping him on the face. "That's for running off all of a sudden! You had us worried sick!" Before realising how bruised his face already is, and threatening to take care of the bastard who did this.

"Aw, you were worried for me." 

"Yeah, worried you'd piss off and ghost us for the next five years!"

Nobody noticed Purpled taking a step back, and turning away. He'll be able to find Tommy again, if not today then tomorrow, or the day after. Something tells him that he isn't going away anytime soon. 

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" A hand touches his shoulder, causing him to halt. 

He turns to face Tubbo, who smiles at him. It renders him speechless, his mouth agape but not a single word coming out. It's… strange, seeing his eyes when his hair used to hide them. And the scar on his face, covering the whole right side. It feels almost… wrong to see it, when he always hid it and never brought it up. 

"Thanks for bringing him back. I was about to lose my mind, seriously."

The tension in his shoulders eases, Purpled sighs and lets them fall. "Hey, don't worry about it, he found me. Just make sure he won't run off again."

Tubbo peers over his shoulder, at Tommy slinging an arm over Ranboo's shoulder; forcing him to hunch over, and at Floof jumping out of her pokeball to greet him, which made him jump five feet into Ranboo's arms. "Oh, don't worry, I will. He's not going anywhere anytime soon."

Shaking his head, he looks back at Purpled. "Come on, why don't you join us? It's about time we catch up," he suggests, playfully punching his shoulder. 

He stops himself just before responding. He contemplates it for a moment, really contemplates it, and as he does so, his eyes wander to Tommy. Who notices his gaze instantly, and with the widest possible grin across his scarred and bruised face, waves.

"Sure, why not."

The bell chimes as the door to the quiet cafè opens, allowing Sam to step inside a mere hour before its closing. He nods to Niki at the counter, and waves. "Just the usual, thanks," he says and makes his way over to his regular table, sitting down with a heavy sigh.

Pulling out his phone, Wilbur's name and picture is displayed as it rings. He denies the call and turns it off, then slips it back into his pocket. Leaning back in his chair, he drapes an arm over his eyes. 

"Wow, you really haven't changed," a voice pipes up from across the table, and Sam flinches. "I mean, I thought you'd look a little different after what, seven years? Is that what you said? Sheesh, can't believe It's been that long. Feels like just yesterday I was following you around the orphanage… okay, that's a lie."

His heart jumping into his throat, Sam flails in his chair and stumbles to his feet, staring wide-eyed at the blonde boy sitting right in front of him with a raised eyebrow. As if this is a casual conversation, nothing out of the ordinary. It can't be─but it is. Seven long years later and he still recognizes him. 

"Tommy? I… it's really you…" he looks at Niki, who's fighting back a smile and winks before resuming preparing their orders. "I can't believe it…" 

When Niki walks over with their orders; black coffee for him and cheesecake for Tommy , he sits back down. He can't take his eyes off him, unable to blink in fear that when he opens his eyes, he'll be gone. Just like how everyone said. 

"Don't worry," Tommy says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his hands behind his head. "I'm not going anywhere. Not anymore."

First, he takes in the similarities; blond hair and blue eyes, though they appear unnaturally bright under the light that shines in through the windows behind him. Then, he becomes more aware of the… newer features. Bruises, bandages, band aids and old scars that could be years old. What kind of life has he been living?

Reluctantly, he thanks Niki and takes his coffee, then stares into the dark liquid. He sees his own reflection in the small ripples, he sees how worn and tired he is from arguing with Wilbur and endlessly searching all these weeks, months, years. And now, he can finally relax. 

He's finally found him. Or, it's more of the other way around. 

"You…" running a hand through his hair, he laughs. "I don't even know where to begin. Where, where have you been all this time? Who has been taking care of you?"

Tommy chuckles, he too looks at peace, despite the state he's in. He couldn't be any calmer. As the world outside darkens and the moon takes its place in the sky, moonlight shines in through the windows and illuminates Tommy from behind, giving his eyes a… distinct glow. 

"You wouldn't believe me if I tried."