Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

No one takes him seriously at first.

As it will for the rest of his life, all that reaction does is make Blue puff his chest up and demand that he be taken seriously. He’s got a reputation already at ten years old for being loud, rude, and the kind of kid adults talk about in stage whispers where they know he can hear. They gossip about his schoolyard scuffles with the other boys (“I know I taught my son never to hit a girl, but that one...”) and his hair when Daisy cuts it short (“Samuel can’t approve of that. Her grandfather must be too busy at the lab these days.”) and his name. (“-calling herself Blue now. This wouldn’t be happening if her mother was still alive, poor thing.”)

Blue doesn’t really have a lot of friends. It’s hard to believe Daisy some days when she says that it’s their fault and not his. Daisy takes him seriously. She helps him swap out an entire wardrobe, cuts his hair when the barber won’t take it above his shoulders, and she’s called him Blue without hesitation since the day he came downstairs and announced it to the world. She’s the best sister in the world, even if he can’t just tell her that. She knows, though. She has to.

And then there’s Red.

Red’s not the kind of kid Blue thinks he would ever be friends with. Red isn’t quiet, he’s silent. He stares at Blue's shoulder instead of looking him in the eyes, and he rocks back and forth endlessly whenever they sit on the ground together to watch wild Rattata running around in the grass, and he doesn’t go to school anymore despite the fact that he knows nearly as much as Gramps, Blue’s sure. In short, Red is weird. And Blue is... Blue knows how to be a cool kid, how to walk the walk and talk the talk and snub his nose at the pedestrians on the playground, but it doesn’t work for him the way it works for the other boys. It’s not fair.

Red’s not the friend Blue would pick, but he’s kind of the only one Blue can have. Which makes Blue angry sometimes, which makes him too loud, which makes Red clap his hands over his ears and flinch back, which makes Blue feel guilty and angry at the guilt and- He’s learned it’s better to run away when things get heated. Put some distance between them. Apologize later, bringing a olive branch in the form of trading cards he knows Red doesn’t have yet (Red shows him his collection whenever he comes over) or news about Gramps’s research that Red usually doesn’t know yet (and when he does, it’s because he spends almost as much time at the lab as Blue does, more every week.) A few days will pass, and the wary look in Red’s eyes will go away, and things will be okay until the lid on Blue’s boiling pot of frustration blows again.

And yet. They do always end up back at each other’s heels. It’s dangerous to wander around in the tall grass alone, after all, and to a pair of boys who haven’t even hit eleven yet, the meager fields and forests outside Pallet Town are a jungle waiting to be uncovered. Blue will take Red’s hand (“So you don’t get lost! Hurry up!”) and tug him along until Red catches sight of something and ends up running ahead. (I thought I saw a Tauros, he’ll write in the mud later after a lengthy race leads to the not so disappointing discovery of a grumpy Raticate instead, and Blue will snort and shove his shoulder and call him a loser.)

The closer they get to eleven, the closer they get to their first Pokemon, and the more time Blue spends in class bouncing his leg and staring out the window, daydreaming about leaving this town behind. Red gets to spend those long hours working with Gramps, another thing so unfair that Blue snaps at him and doesn’t talk to him for three days, and then finally feels awful enough that he convinces Daisy to take him and Red to Viridian Forest to watch an amateur bug-catching contest. (The winner found a green Beedrill. Red was ecstatic, any argument forgotten. Blue researches Pokemon color variation just to talk his ear off about it and see Red’s eyes light up the way they did before.)

Blue could spend more time with Gramps, even outside of school. It’s not really fair to get mad at Red. Not when what he’s really mad about is...

“Er... What was her name again?”

It was funny the first time, maybe. Something Blue rolled his eyes at and corrected and forgave because not everyone could be as cool as his sister, not even Gramps, and besides, he was old. He forgot his own reading glasses were on his head sometimes. It wasn’t as funny the second. Or the third. Or the dozens after. It wasn’t funny when Blue started to realize that Gramps was making it into an excuse, waiting for the day Blue would say, actually, I went back to using the old one, so you don’t have to remember anymore.

Gramps never remembers his name, and only remembers to introduce him as his grandson half of the time, and yeah, maybe Blue doesn’t spend as much time with the old man as he should anymore.

He’s not going to get a starter from anywhere else, though. Pallet Town doesn’t have a gym leader, so Professor Oak hands out the Pokemon to the fledgling trainers. The closer that day gets, the more the knot in his stomach grows. If he can just get past it, he’ll be all set. No one on his journey will ever have a reason to stumble over his name. It’ll be Blue’s Pokemon Journey, no one else’s, and he’ll prove that he has what it takes to make it all the way to the top. All the busybodies of Pallet and the stupid kids at school and even Oak will see that. They’ll see Blue.

A week before his journey begins, Daisy says his trainer ID has come in the mail. Blue tears open the envelope with gusto. He stares at it. Daisy grimaces when he looks back at her.

“Grandpa and I set it up for you,” she explains, “and... Legally, Blue...”

“Whatever,” he snaps. “I don’t care.” He shoves it in his pocket where he doesn’t have to look at it. He shoves his chair away from the table and pretends he isn’t fleeing. “Smell ya later!” Daisy opens her mouth as if to say something. He doesn’t hear it, whatever it is.

Red also has his trainer ID. He’s abuzz with excitement about it, hands flapping, and when he shows it to Blue, it’s perfect. A blank record where Red will record every badge, his unique ID number, and his name, printed front and center where everyone can see it. Red lets Blue hold it. Blue reads his name, once, twice, and his eyes start to sting.

He can’t even remember what they fought about. It was something stupid and petty that had nothing and everything to do with the fact that Red got to have his name on his ID and Blue’s own Grandpa couldn’t even remember his. They don’t talk for the rest of the week. Blue stubbornly camps out in his room and pretends to be sick for his last days of school. He doesn’t feel any better the day he’s meant to get his starter. He goes to Gramps’s lab, finds (Surprise!) no Gramps, and slouches in a chair in the corner, watching the lab aides type away into models Red would be able to explain easily. He doesn’t know what is so important that Gramps can’t even show up on time.

(“Whew... A Pokemon can appear anytime in tall grass.” Oak says, letting out an exhausted breath. Red tilts his head, eyes fixed on the Pokeball in the professor’s hand. He hasn’t seen a Pikachu around Pallet Town in... four months and two days, and it probably isn’t the same Pikachu. That one looked chubby and cheerful. This one had seemed irritated and runty. Professor Oak smiles at him. “I know how excited kids get these days, but you really shouldn’t go out alone.” Oak looks around, frowning. “That’s strange. Isn’t, er... what was her name again?”

Red’s hands shoot up like a cowboy’s quick draw. He doesn’t use sign language much, even though his mom thinks it would be useful, but he knows the words for this without even thinking. Blue, Red signs, his name is Blue. He fingerspells it slowly to make a point, and then signs boy, just to drive it in.

Blue is a jerk, but he’s still Blue.

“Erm. Well. Is he-”

B-L-U-E, Red signs again. Oak looks at him like he wasn’t even aware Red could get frustrated, like his silence keeps him from feeling anything other than placid acceptance.

“Isn’t Blue with you?” Oak finally says, and it sounds stilted. Red shakes his head, lets his hands fall back to his pockets and looks down at the ground.

Blue is still Blue, and Blue is a jerk.

Oak sighs. He smiles, and even Red can tell it’s forced. “Here,” he says, “come with me.” He leads Red back to the lab.)

He’s brought Red with him. Blue scowls. “Gramps!” he calls. Gramps jumps. “I’m fed up with waiting!” Red doesn’t look at him. His hat is pulled down, forcing his bangs over his eyes.

“Just... wait there.” Gramps says, clearly stalling. “Ah, Red, do you see that ball on the table?” Blue and Red both follow his gesture towards the singular Pokeball lying there. It’s bright red, and the table is only a few feet from Blue where Red is across the room. “It contains a Pokemon inside. Go on, take it!” Red takes a step forward, and Blue...

“No way, Red, I want this Pokemon!” Blue shoots up out of his chair and snatches the Pokeball up. Red freezes, steps back, expression hurt before he ducks his head even further and Blue can’t see it anymore. He grips the Pokeball he’s chosen (stolen) close to his chest.

“Blue! What are you doing?” Gramps says. The first time he doesn’t so much as stutter, and it’s because Blue’s done something to disappoint him. Isn’t that fitting, the bitterest part of Blue whispers. He swallows and looks Gramps in the eye, not standing down even though even thinking about that hurt on Red’s face is making his heart do double-time.

“I want this one,” he repeats. He doesn’t even know what this one is, other than that it’s what Gramps was going to give to Red. Gramps gives in.

“Oh, all right then. That Pokemon is yours.” He turns to Red. “Here,” he reaches into his lab coat and pulls out another Pokeball. Red looks confused. “This is the Pokemon I caught earlier. You can have it. Be careful. It’s not tame yet, but I’m sure you’ll be able to handle the challenge.” Blue can’t watch as Red’s eyes light up and a smile finds its cautious way back onto his face. He hears the Pokeball click, and from across the room, there’s the extremely distinct squeak of a Pikachu. When Blue can bring himself to look again, Red’s holding the thing at arm’s length as it squirms and sparks, but his grin is so wide, it has to hurt. Blue squeezes the Pokeball in his hand.

“Hey! Red!” The other boy and the little yellow rat both turn to look at him. The Pikachu sparks again. Red’s shoulders draw up defensively. Blue doesn’t know what to say. They’re staring at him, Gramps is staring at him, even the aides are giving him weird looks, and he’s got to do something. “Let’s-” He stumbles. “My Pokemon looks a lot stronger than yours. I’ll take you on.” Red shakes his head, or starts to, but Blue’s already tossing his Pokeball to the ground.

That’s how he finds out the starter Gramps was saving for Red, on the same day that he’d be giving a starter to his own grandson, is an Eevee. A Pokemon so rare that Blue doesn’t even know where to find one in the wild. It shakes itself off and blinks up at him. Eevee mewls, confused. Blue gives it a nod that he hopes reads as confidence, control. The Eevee only looks more confused, raising one paw to scratch an ear. Blue meets Red’s eyes, and Red’s gaze darts away to the wall behind him. “Come on, Red! Scared you’ll lose?”

He knows that will work. Red’s mouth pinches. His Pikachu growls at Blue. Red sets it down, adjusts his hat, and accepts Blue’s challenge. Blue grins, and there’s nothing nice about it. Eevee squeaks.

Somehow, despite the fact that Red doesn’t even say anything to direct his Pikachu, he still wins. Red doesn’t even demand victory money. He just lets his Pikachu jump back into his arms and watches Blue. Blue sprays a potion over his tired Eevee, shouts something loud enough to cover any waver in his voice, and runs.

Chapter Text

His journey doesn’t feel much like a journey. More like a whirlwind that he’s barely keeping in the center of.

He starts to realize that in Viridian City, looking back at the Indigo Plateau. When he finally turns away from it, Red’s standing behind him, quietly gazing up at the Plateau with a sort of reverence. Blue should be surprised, but he isn’t, chalks it up to subconsciously hearing Red stomping through the grass behind them. Pikachu looks at him first, the rat balanced precariously on Red’s shoulder. It sparks at him. Blue’s Eevee mewls cheerfully at it, as though it’s a friendly face and not their rival. He reminds himself to teach Eevee to be more ferocious next time.

He cocks a grin at Red when the other boy finally looks over at him and challenges him to a battle. It goes about as well as last time, with Eevee licking at fur puffy with static electricity and Pidgey’s feathers ruffled up from a tussle with Red’s Spearow and Blue nursing his ego a second time. He digs some cash out of his wallet and shoves it into Red’s hands. Red holds the money gingerly, like he’s not sure what Blue wants him to do with it and Blue scoffs. “You just lucked out!" he claims without believing it for a second. He scoops up Eevee, who squeaks at him, and rushes past Red. “You should quit dawdling and get a move on!”

Maybe Red doesn’t follow him at that moment, but now Blue knows he will.

It isn’t until Cerulean City that it really sinks in, though. Blue goes to Bill’s house (being the grandson of a famous professor has some perks) and lets Bill poke and prod at Eevee while the Pokemon looks up at Blue with a melodramatic expression of betrayal. Bill tells him about evolutionary stones and Eevee’s wild genetics and even shows him some more rare Pokemon, and Blue doesn’t even consider that the day might have been wasted until he’s on the bridge back to Cerulean and Red appears out of nowhere. Blue had been sure it would take him another day or so.

“Yo, Red!” He calls. Eevee squirms in his arms and looks up at him. “You’re still struggling along back here? How many badges do you have?” Red actually smiles when he sees him, which makes Blue feel... weird. He’s not sure what he’s done to deserve that. Red pulls out his badge case, and where Blue expects to see the shine of the Boulder Badge alone, he instead finds that and the Cascade Badge already secured in its spot. Blue’s own badge case suddenly feels far too light, and he doesn’t pull it out to show off. He just leans against the bridge. “I guess you’re not totally helpless after all.” Red rolls his eyes. “Come on, show me what you’ve caught in the meantime.”

Against a team that hasn’t faced Misty yet, Red predictably wins. Blue realizes what that means, that Red will move on to the next badge, leave Blue in the dust, and-

“Hey, guess what? I went to Bill’s,” he gestures behind him at the cottage barely visible in the distance, “and got him to show me his rare Pokemon.” Red’s busy feeding an oran berry to his fierce looking Spearow, the one that Blue almost thought would evolve mid-battle, but at the mention of rare Pokemon, his head snaps up and his eyes go wide. Hook, line, and sinker, and Blue doesn’t feel guilty about delaying him, he doesn’t. Red will get to see some awesome Pokemon. It’ll make his day, and just so happen to also give Blue time to get the Cascade Badge and skip town. “He even had some Pokemon not native to this region...” Blue lets the suspense rise, and Red hangs onto his every word. “Not that it was too surprising to me. Gramps has friends from all over the world with cool Pokemon. But still, a Bronzong, and a Spinda, and... Well, he said it was a Mareep, but aren’t Mareep supposed to be yellow, not pink?”

Hook. Line. Sinker. Red’s grin is wide and overjoyed and his hands are flapping and-

And he leaps at Blue and throws his arms around him in a hug.

Blue freezes. Red lets go. Adjusts his hat. Whistles for Pikachu.

And he’s gone.

Blue blinks.

Did the rat shock him? It feels like it shocked him.

Blue shakes it off and gets a move on. One step ahead of Red, that’s the plan.

Blue learns. Train fast and smart, fight faster and smarter. Abra becomes a force to be reckoned with once it evolves. Rattata follows it, and Pidgey grows next, a proud Pidgeotto. Eevee stays small, for now, because Blue’s still deciding on the right stone. They win against Misty the same day he meets Red on the bridge, and Blue gets moving, his eyes on Vermilion City. He heads for the gym the minute his team is healed up from the Pokemon Center, no hesitation. He spends an hour digging through trash for his efforts, and when he finally finds his way to Lt. Surge’s chamber, the man asks for his Trainer ID.

It’s standard procedure. Blue has had to do it twice. Brock and Misty barely glanced over it. Lt. Surge stops. He reads the ID carefully, then looks up at Blue, then back at the ID. After a minute, Blue feels his fists clench. He says, “What? There a problem here?” Lt. Surge can’t deny him a battle. Right? He can’t do that.

Lt. Surge laughs. It sounds a bit like cannons firing. Eevee jumps and nearly falls off of Blue’s shoulder where he’s taken to nestling himself. (Got the idea from Red’s Pikachu, no doubt, the terrible influence that it is, even if Blue is the one who lets Eevee stay out of his Pokeball.) Surge hands him his ID back. “You’ve got guts, kid. Good to know the next generation of trainers will be as tough as the last.” Blue’s not sure what to say to that, so instead, he pulls out Kadabra’s Pokeball.

“Don’t call me tough until I’ve beaten you,” he says. “I want to earn that.” If anything, that only makes Lt. Surge look even more proud. He hands his badge over when Blue wins and shakes his hand. “Keep going, kid! You’re a champion in the making!” And yeah, obviously, but Blue’s never had anyone actually tell him that before. It feels good.

Red shows up on the S. S. Anne. Blue’s not even sure how he got there. He doesn’t look all that good, shoulders hunched and Pikachu in his arms instead of on his shoulder, the little rat clearly not quite comfortable with how tight Red is holding it but letting him do it anyway. Blue’s got a whole speech prepared, about the Pokemon he’s noting down in his dex, about his team, about getting the Thunder Badge (which surely Red doesn’t have yet.) He gets as far as, “Bonjour!” Red flinches. Blue shuts up.

“You know, there’s empty rooms on this ship,” he tries. “I can stand watch outside if you...” Red looks up at him, and Blue can see the stubborn glint in his eyes that will only lead to ruin. That’s not going to be pretty. Blue really doesn’t think the guests on the S. S. Anne are the understanding kind, and he doesn’t want Red to get thrown off the ship because of an outburst he can’t control. “If your Pokemon,” he says instead, because Red obviously cares more about them than about himself, idiot, “need some rest.” Red hesitates. “I don’t want a battle if you- If they’re not shipshape.”

Red makes a face at him. Blue grins. Red relents to taking a minute in one of the empty rooms, and Blue leans on the door from the outside and glares at people who walk past. Eevee growls, too. He’s getting better at acting like he’s not a tiny ball of fluff and sweetness. He still looks up at Blue every time he does it like he’s real proud of himself, and Blue rolls his eyes and tosses him a treat. Just one. Can’t have Eevee getting too spoiled.

Eventually, Red opens the door from the inside. Blue nearly topples over but catches himself. Red doesn’t look... better, per say. He looks more focused, less like he’ll run screaming at the next loud noise. His eyes are pink-rimmed, and he rubs at one before shaking himself off. Blue’s completely forgotten about the offer he made to get Red in there in the first place until Red’s holding out a Pokeball and silently demanding a fight. It’s not like Blue’s going to deny him. He’s still itching to prove he’s better.

Blue loses. Again. And Red has somehow managed to acquire a Charmeleon and an Ivysaur in the time since Blue last saw him, which is just unfair. Kadabra holds out the longest, but a quick slam from Pikachu knocks his spoon out of his hand when he goes down. Blue takes note of that. The rat might be annoying, but electric types are notoriously fast. When he picks Eevee up again and gives Red a customary, “Smell ya later,” there’s a plan forming in his head.

A plan completely ruined by the checkpoint outside of Celadon City.

“Sorry, little Miss,” the guard says as he hands Blue’s ID back. Blue bristles. Eevee growls. “We’re not letting anyone past this point. There’s been rumors of Team Rocket lurking about. It’s safer this way.” Blue’s about to stomp his way out, but that’s when a commotion starts up from behind him. A brown shell rockets through the checkpoint at lightning speed, and hard on its heel is another officer, shouting for help to catch that damn Squirtle! The guard behind the desk shoots up and runs after her and the Squirtle, Blue completely forgotten about. For a moment, Blue stands there, a little shocked. Then, Eevee bites at his pant leg and tugs on him to get him moving again.

Celadon City is huge. Its department store dwarfs anything Blue’s ever seen, and it’s exactly what he needs. Water Stones, Fire Stones, Leaf Stones, Blue brushes past them all until he comes upon a green gem with a telltale lightning vein running through it. It costs half of what’s in his wallet. He doesn’t even blink twice.

On the top of the Celadon Department Store with the clouds drifting lazily overhead, Blue lays back on one of the tables set up on the roof. He holds the Thunder Stone up to the beams of light escaping the clouds. Inside, the sharp vein glows brighter. Eevee puts his front paws on Blue’s forehead, messing up his hair when Eevee leans on him, sniffing at the stone. Blue turns the stone over in his hands.

“I...” He stops. This is the plan. Stay ahead of Red, become the Champion, prove himself, and to do that, he needs the best team. His plan for the best team requires a Jolteon. Only, that feels... “I should have asked you,” he finds himself saying. “Maybe you’d rather be a Vapoereon. Or an Espeon. Or stay an Eevee.”

Eevee butts his head against Blue’s, and Blue drops the stone onto his chest so that he can scratch behind Eevee’s ear. Eevee squeaks happily. He can hear his tail thumping against the wood of the table.

“I can figure out a new team.” Eevee butts his head with another squeak and then crawls over Blue, despite his sputtering about the tiny paws clambering over his face and the end of a tail that ends up in his mouth. Eevee ignores him and sniffs at the Thunder Stone again. He looks back at Blue and playfully smacks his trainer with his tail one last time before pressing his nose to the stone. The stone glows, Eevee glows, and in less time than it takes Blue to sneeze from Eevee’s fur, there isn’t an Eevee there anymore. There’s a bright, sparking Jolteon shaking himself off, fur sticking out wildly like it used to after a bout against Red’s Pikachu. Blue hugs Jolteon. It makes his hair stand on end like a mad scientist, and he’s definitely not crying into Jolteon’s fur because one of them got to change everything with just a stone.

Blue’s refitting his team. He still needs a water type. He considers Gyrados for a minute, but that’s when he runs into a Squirtle on the outskirts of Celadon. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s the same one from before, from how it’s trying to hide under a bush. Blue nudges it out with the toe of his shoe, and the Squirtle bites his foot. Not hard, it’s still just a Squirtle, but hard enough that Blue yelps and shakes it off. Jolteon jumps forward and tackles Squirtle, knocking it over. Squirtle retreats into its shell. Blue considers it.

“Hey, buddy,” he starts, “I owe you one. What do you say to joining my team? No more cops on your trail, and we’re going all the way to the top.” Squirtle doesn’t come out of its shell. “Think about it. Fame, fortune, and all the Pokemon treats money can buy.” That gets a reaction. Squirtle’s head pops out, and it croaks questioningly up at Blue. Blue holds out an empty Pokeball. “The offer’s going once. Twice. Three times...” Squirtle pops up and headbutts the ball. It doesn’t even rattle before confirming the catch. “Sold!” Blue fist pumps.

He fights Red at Pokemon Tower, and loses. He fights Red at Silph Co., and loses. He has no idea how Red keeps getting himself mixed up in Rocket stuff, but it’s worrying to say the least. Yeah, Blue’s there, too, but Blue knows he seeks out trouble wherever he goes. Red isn’t that kind of kid. He seems to think he’s the kind of kid who can take on an entire terrorist organization and win. The worst, or maybe best, part is? As far as Blue can tell, Red is completely right. People call him a hero.

Maybe Blue should have been there, too. Maybe Blue should have helped.

But he didn’t, and it’s over now, and there’s more important things to worry about. Gym badges, for one. He’s collecting them like candy, one after the other. His team is a well-oiled machine, ‘an absolute monster to take on’ to quote Blaine. Blue takes it in stride.

Viridian’s Gym is... weird.

It’s weird because Blue feels out of place. Giovanni fights him, but it doesn’t feel right. It feels like the man is going through the motions. Like he sees Blue, but he doesn’t really register that Blue is there. His eyes keep drifting to the door to the Gym even as Blue’s Blastoise tears into his Nidoking. When he hands Blue the Earth Badge, it feels like a dismissal. “Well done, young lady,” he says, and Blue doesn’t even bother to correct him. It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s got his badges. He’s going to the League. Who cares what some third-rate Gym Leader thinks?

Route 22. Staring up at Indigo Plateau. Blue has been here before.

He gazes up, assured now in what he’s going to do, and he turns around.

Red’s not there.

Blue frowns. He crosses his arms. So now he decides to be late? After everything? After dogging Blue’s heels this entire time? Blue settles in. He has time. The League’s not going anywhere.

When Red arrives, he looks shaken. He doesn’t look up at Indigo Plateau this time, just keeps his eyes on his shoes as he walks, Pikachu padding alongside him. He’d probably have missed Blue entirely if Blue hadn’t called after him. “Hey! Red! What a surprise to see you here!” Red looks up. It takes a moment, but he does smile when he sees Blue. Jolteon bounds over to Pikachu and knocks his head against hers. Pikachu sparks at him, but that hasn’t done much to dissuade Jolteon since he evolved. “You collected all your badges?” Red’s smile falters for a moment, but he ducks his head into a nod to hide it and pulls out his badge case. Blue reaches for his as well. They trade. The newer badges are shiny while the older ones seem a little dulled from sitting in the case for so long. They’ve both got eight now. “Cool.” Blue hands Red back his badges, takes his in return.

Red’s the one whose hand strays to his Pokeballs first, in clear challenge. Blue’s lost to him every time, but every one of the last few battles has been close and they both know it. He snaps his fingers, and Jolteon bounces back into a fighting stance. “A warm-up, huh? I guess I better make sure you’re ready to take on the Elite Four.” Red sends out his Ivysaur.

Blue loses. It doesn’t sting that badly. It hasn’t for a while now. The thrill of the battle is the more important, how good he’s getting at reading Red’s silent commands so that he knows how to counterattack, the wild matchups they throw against each other. By the end, both teams are exhausted. Both trainers are far too keyed up to really care who won or lost. Blue knocks his shoulder against Red’s. “I don’t know. I’m ready, but I think you might need more practice.” Red bumps him back. “See you at the end of Victory Road?” Red nods.

Victory Road is too easy compared to his fights with Red. It almost feels like cheating to battle a trainer who calls out their Pokemon’s commands loud enough for half the cavern to hear compared to carefully reading Red’s movements. He rolls up to Indigo Plateau a tad overconfident, but given his track record, he thinks he’s earned it.

He should send Lt. Surge a postcard. “Greetings from Indigo Plateau.”

Maybe after he’s claimed the Champion title.

They ask for his ID again, and Blue’s too keyed up to even care.

“Welcome to the Pokemon League. I am Lorelei of the Elite Four,” greets his first opponent. She squints at him from behind her glasses, pauses. “And you are?”

“Blue Oak,” he says, unclipping Arcanine’s Pokeball from his belt. Lorelei nods.

“Are you ready?” He scoffs.

“Would I be here if I wasn’t?” Lorelei is tougher than expected, but in the end, he succeeds.

Bruno is next, doesn’t ask his name but does call him ‘trainer’. It’s an acceptable middle ground, especially when Blue trounces him even easier than Lorelei. The man takes it in stride and lets Blue move on to the next Elite Four member.

“Oh ho!” Blue doesn’t recognize the old woman, knows Agatha by her status as an Elite Four member but nothing more, but she looks at him with a wry smirk. “So it’s true. Oak’s granddaughter is taking us on. I never thought I’d see the day.” Blue snorts.

“Grandson, actually! And I’m not just ‘taking you on’. I’m winning!” Agatha cackles.

“I bet that shocked the old duff quite a bit!” Blue scowls. “Well, why don’t we see if you’re made of the same stuff your grandfather was when he was a trainer?” When Blue beats her, she waves her cane at him. “Run along, boy. You’ve got things to prove, after all.” Blue swears he can still hear her cackling behind him as he enters the final chamber.

The current Champion, Lance, is the only person left standing in his way.

“Ah! I’ve heard about you, Blue Oak. Lorelei said I should prepare for you. A truly promising challenger.” Blue’s cocks an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“I’m afraid that challenge will end here, however. You don’t stand a chance against my mythical dragons!” Lance has a cape. Blue’s sure it’s meant to be imposing. Mostly, it looks kind of dorky. Blue whistles for Jolteon, who mostly sat those previous fights out. Jolteon readies himself, sparks flying.

“Bring it on!” Blue calls.

Blue wins.

He’s made it.

It doesn’t feel real. Lance walks him to the Champion’s room. The machine that will inscribe him and his Pokemon into the Hall of Fame sits waiting. Jolteon, roughed up from his battle but still going strong, bows his head and goes back into his Pokeball. Blue places his down first, then Alakazam’s, Blastoise’s, Arcanine’s, Rhydon’s, and Pidgeot’s. He’s made it. They’ve made it. He’s-

Please insert Trainer ID to confirm Hall of Fame entry.

Blue feels his stomach drop. He wants to turn back to Lance, ask if there’s a way around this, but the man has already left. Blue’s alone, with the machine demanding he hand over a slip of plastic without a hint of himself on it in order to claim what he fought for, what he earned, what he trained his team for months to achieve. Blue did all of this, and he doesn’t even get to put his own name on it.

For a moment, he even considers taking his Pokemon and leaving. It’s that thought, that his Pokemon are also waiting, that he promised them they would get to be remembered in the Hall of Fame, too, that pushes him forward.

He slips the ID into the machine and closes his eyes.

In the end, it doesn’t really matter all that much. It takes twenty-seven minutes for Red to show up, and Blue to become the shortest lived Champion in Kanto history. It takes twenty-seven minutes for everything he proved to stop mattering, for Gramps to come in and scold him for not doing better, for Red to get pats on the back and praise and Oak leading him to help him work the Champion machine, as if Red isn’t smart enough to do it on his own. Red looks back at him, just once.

He looks as uncomfortable as Blue has felt this entire time.

He wants to exist in that moment between when Red walked into the room and when Red beat him. He wants to stay right there, tossing commands to his Pokemon as Red does the same, matching each other move for move. He wants to be able to look at Red from across that arena believing that they were equals, no matter how many times he’d lost before, because they had always been close.

One loss too many. There’s no more battles now. Nowhere left to go. Nothing left to fight towards. Blue feels hollow. He leaves the Indigo Plateau, passes news crews who hound him for a statement, and flies Pidgeot back home. Daisy is there. She takes one look at her little brother and hugs him tight.

Red doesn’t come back to Pallet Town. Blue tells himself that he doesn’t miss him anyway.

(Being the Champion is too much. Red hates it. He hates everything he’s expected to do, expected to be. He got here by battling, and he’s good at that, at battles and Pokemon and everything related, but the Champion is expected to work with people. Red’s not good with people. Not with any of them.

Except for Blue and he’s-

He knows they’re talking about it, the rest of the Elite Four, that they’re debating whether eleven, now twelve is too young for Champion duties, if they should send Red home. If he would just lose, this wouldn’t be a problem, but he won’t throw a fight and none of the few challengers who’ve reached him have been able to beat him yet.

He spends more time than he wants to admit to in the room they’ve given him, face buried in Pikachu’s fur, Charizard curled around him like a living furnace, trying not to cry because it’s too much. Too loud and too alien and too chaotic and too lonely and too wrong. His journey was stressful, but there were respites, the familiar layouts of Pokemon Centers and the friendly Gym Leaders and Blue showing up where he least expected. He doesn’t want to be Champion. He’s not sure he ever did. To beat the Champion, yes, to prove that he could, but to be that? To be a figurehead and a legend and a leader all in one?

Red wants to go home.

He can’t, though. He can’t leave because the Champion can’t leave. The Champion is known to everyone in the region. His face is everywhere. If he goes back to Pallet Town, it’ll follow him there, and then Pallet Town will feel like the League, corrupted by Red’s return.

“There’s been some trouble in Cerulean Cave,” Lance says, one day. “I figured you might want to take a look.” Red knows it’s meant to be kind. It’s meant to be a break. Red stares at his hands. He nods.

Before he leaves, he goes into the Hall of Fame records. He looks at his own, at his team, and he is proud of that, still. He’s proud of making it there, even if the result isn’t what he wanted. He flips through to the previous file, the one before his, and nearly skips over it because the name isn’t right and he’s looking for Blue, not-

Oh.

Red reads the file. Blue’s team is there, all bright and brilliant and powerful as he remembers. Pikachu climbs up into Red’s lap as he reads, and Red absently rubs her head. This isn’t right. Blue’s not Champion, not anymore, but he was, even if only for half an hour, and he deserves to be there just like Red is. Red clicks around. He’s Champion. That has to be good for something. It takes a while, but eventually, he finds out that he can edit some parts of the record. It takes him another minute to navigate back to Blue’s file. He rewrites it, Blue Oak, in huge, obvious lettering so that there will be no doubt.

They both made it. Let the record show.

Red leaves for Cerulean Cave. That’s what he tells everyone.

He doesn’t come back.)