Chapter Text
If there’s one thing Dawn can say about her friend Lucas, it’s that he lives under a giant fucking rock.
Now, don’t get her wrong, Lucas is plenty knowledgeable — about Pokémon and only Pokémon. And a bit about technology, she guesses, given how many times he’s had to help Barry troubleshoot after the latter had gotten into accidents that should have, by all means, destroyed his Pokédex at least five times over, and ended up merely crashing it instead. Why can’t phones be this durable? (Rest in peace, Dawn’s Galactic Note 7, met its end when it used a certain Normal-type move with 250 base power that Azelf can also learn.)
At any rate, Lucas’ vast knowledge somehow does not extend to other important things, such as famous people. He’s barely able to name all 8 gym leaders in Sinnoh, much less the Elite 4. He only knows Cynthia from History Channel. The first time they’d stayed over at Barry’s place, poor Uncle Palmer was only recognised as “Barry’s really loud dad” and nothing else. And don’t even get her started on his various Metronome of Fortune guesses.
Whatever. Ignorance is bliss, people say. And frankly? Dawn thinks they may be right, because she really envies Lucas right now, being able to sleep soundly when around the world, celebrities are getting into accidents and controversies abound. She’s scouring Chatter, Mewtube, even fucking Hazebook for every little bit of information, every post, every new twist; meanwhile, Lucas is scouring the grass on every route for every species of Pokémon, chasing every swarm, every piece of data. He doesn’t worry about Grimsley’s retirement, or Sabrina’s newest movie, or Nessa’s shipping drama. All he worries about is finding a shiny after running out of Pokéballs.
Different priorities, she supposes. Doesn’t change the fact that they’re both 15, trainers, and kinda broke for completely different reasons. Maybe Lucas didn’t need to spend his salary from Professor Rowan on 50 Ultra Balls. And maybe she didn’t need to spend her battle earnings on fan merch for her villa in the Resort Area, especially given how unappreciative Lucas is of the new decor.
“Dawn, why do you even have a poster of some guy taking a selfie on your ceiling?”
“That’s Raihan, and he's a Galarian Gym Leader. At least put some respect on his name!”
“Why are three guys posing beside your guest table?”
“Oh, Luc. Please tell me you remember the Striaton Trio. Cress, Chili and Cilan. You know, your ‘calibrary cuffs’— ”
“Okay, fine, I remember them! Then why’s there a picture of some lady with weird sleeves on the ceiling right above your bed?”
“Sweet Arceus, Luc, you don’t know who Diantha is? Champion of Kalos, movie actress, acted in the Amaurbius remake, we watched it literally last week over Gliscord— ”
“And why’s it above your bed?”
“I thought you knew I swing both ways?”
“That —that’s not the point! Dawn, no offence, but you're, uh, down bad...”
“Fine, it's mostly there for a joke. Admiring the pinnacle of female charm and all. Can’t you at least appreciate that Diantha is pretty?”
“Then what about these two people beside the bed?” Lucas asks, pointing to one of the most expensive posters, pasted proudly on the wall in its full-size glory. “Why do you have two guys pointing at your bed and why are they so big?”
“Don’t insult the Subway Bosses on my watch, Luc, I’ll have to kick you out if you do,” Dawn threatens. Hey, she’d paid 120,000 Poké and had to fight feral railway fans for that limited-edition poster, and she sure as all hell is not going to let her spoils of war be dragged through the mud like that. “I think you’re the one with poor taste here.”
“No, but why are they beside the bed?” Lucas’ voice is tinged with horror. “Who even are these people and why are they pointing towards the bed? And why do they look exactly the same? Is it some mirror image symbolism thing?”
Lucas is definitely in need of some education, because who doesn’t know the Subway Bosses? Only this poor soul. Exactly. “Well, Terumoto, I’m glad you asked. Let me convince you…”
By the end of her explanation, Lucas’ eyes have glazed over, and he is staring instead at the TV, which isn’t even on. Dawn sighs. Guess her plan to induct Lucas into the fandom had failed before it even had begun. Such is the experience of befriending probably the least culturally aware person on the planet. Sometimes she can’t even believe he has a phone. Maybe that explains why he still capitalises the start of all his sentences when texting— she and Barry are trying to convert him to all-lowercase. “Anyway, I’m surprised you questioned that poster of all things and not the statue.”
“Uh — what statue?” Lucas startles, broken out of his trance. Then his eyes land on one of the biggest scams Dawn has ever paid for in her life, and that includes the “sturdy comfort” guest table over to the side (now slightly cracked after a particularly violent round of Mario Party, thanks Barry).
“What the actual fuck is that?”
Oooh, actual swearing, he’s truly horrified. “Ah, yes, that’s the Multi Train statue.” Said sculpture sits on top of the table, in full view for anyone walking through the door to see. Maybe she wasn’t thinking that much when she did her second round of interior design.
“That’s not a train, that’s…that’s a…Palkia’s head and shoulders…”
“Yeah, I got scammed. Goes to show why you should be careful when buying merch online,” Dawn replies casually. “It was supposed to be a leaping train with clouds of dust, if it helps.”
“With how suspiciously shaped it is, I’d be surprised if it was even meant to be that,” Lucas turns away from the monstrosity, the logo of the Battle Subway haphazardly scribbled on its side. “Seriously. Every day, we stray further away from Arceus.”
“Oh, this is barely the tip of the Avalugg, you innocent soul. The world of fan merch is a dark, dark place. This villa is probably one of the less crazy collections out there.” The look on Lucas’ face is absolutely priceless. Though, now Dawn feels slightly bad for him…nah, he didn’t actually have to see the market for celebrity body pillows himself. Now that is a mortifying experience she will never wish upon anyone. Maybe that’s why Arceus stays in heaven or something, too scared of what humanity dares to create.
“Fans of celebrities are weird,” Lucas decides. “Sometimes I’m glad to be just a simple researcher. Seriously, why are people so obsessed with these guys? Like, two train conductors, seriously?”
Oh, so he’d at least learnt something from her presentation. That’s slightly reassuring. Still… “It’s a thing, Lucas. They’re famous facility heads. What’s so strange about it?”
Lucas shakes his head, muttering something about “crazy competitive trainers”. Whatever. To each their own.
Weeks later, when they actually get to meet Subway Boss Ingo in person (!) while climbing Mount Coronet, it turns out that Lucas has already forgotten her entire explanation. It’s been less than 3 months. She and Barry take lots and lots of pictures, dragging a disgruntled Lucas into many of them, who later grumbles about how she and Barry are absolute maniacs for practically dropping everything for “some train guy”.
…That’s the last time she will ever see Lucas, the last pictures she will ever take with him, the last thing they will argue about. Because the day after, he’s gone.
(Ingo is reported missing shortly after as well. She doesn’t care anymore.)