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A belly full of glittering wings that alight when she holds your hand — the tie between a body and mind.
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According to Gary, spring is the beginning of the butterfree migration in the Kanto Region. It takes a season for butterfree to find their mates, lay eggs, and cross the sea together. Gary insisted it was a beautiful ritual as he told Drew the story of Ash Ketchum, his first catch, and the pink mate. It’s a phenomenon that has existed before man and pokemon even connected; the butterfree, the sea, the sky, and their new beginning.
Gary, who has always seen into the cracks of the world, and Drew’s demeanor met him halfway. He understood when Drew never asked him to — there was no way that Drew could stomach releasing one of his own in such a matter.
“It’s nature, Drew,” Gary argued, his black shades blocking the sun. “Change is inevitable, but it’s up to you.”
Drew bit on the inside of his mouth, mentally preparing for a canker sore. Butterfree metamorphism was more straightforward regarding the progression of evolution than other pokemon, but Drew found it beautiful — there is beauty in simplicity. To begin your life as a squishy, meek creature to a hardened mass, and then finally, to evolve into a flying, sap-sipping wonder — Drew believed it was as close to resilience and hope one can get.
To let go of his own was difficult to accept, no matter how much Gary made sense. All Drew could do was imagine a forgotten butterfree, trailing behind the flock of silver-winged creatures basking under the sun. Instead, Drew’s butterfree floated around him, landing on his head, and began buzzing softly in his ear, soothing his trainer’s sympathetic heart. Butterfree’s song reminded him of hazy summer afternoons spent in the countryside with his grandparents — exchanging LaRousse City for a season of peace and hot springs.
Drew wondered if he could do what Ash Ketchum did — release your partner in the chance that they find happiness without you. Love was a universal thing, not limited to roses and sunsets — love could be found in the buzzing of a kind creature, a creature deserving of love itself.
. . .
‘I’m in Kanto for a month.
Are you still traveling with Gary?’
Drew stared at his rotomphone, his nails digging into his lavender gel case, expecting a text from Gary asking the daily ‘what should we do for dinner’ as his companion was on the other side of the city. Startled, Drew took a deep breath and reread the message.
Her name flashed across his screen; the contact image was a picture of them at ten years old. It was a photo taken by Harley on that obnoxious camera he carried around — recording blackmail, potential sabotage, and fucking around with his rivals. Drew was squinting in the photo, red dots hazy over his eyes, a younger him fighting off embarrassment; she smiled brightly, holding up a peace sign.
He stared at the screen, began to reply via text then quickly deleted his response. His finger hovered over her phone number — and with a shock of guts, he pressed call.
“Drew?”
His heart stammered at the sound of her voice.
“Hey, May.”
. . .
May found Drew. It was odd — how the wind took his silent plea, carried it to the girl his heart named, and made it so. She found him in the dirt against a mago berry tree, covered in grass stains. Drew peered up at her, his jade eyes clear, but his breathing fell short at the sight of her. He drank the image — quick to shut his eyes in the hope of retaining it — the picture taken in his mind: skin perfumed with Paldean oil — a mix of rose, amber, and sandalwood — chestnut hair pulled back with a silk ivory scarf twirling in the air, cherry lips pursed, her elbow scarred from when they plunged over a waterfall and she scraped herself on a jagged stone, and a digital camera attached to her hip. Golden, cherry drenched, but undeniably, her. She turned seventeen last April. And despite the inevitable passage of time, he will always recognize her.
It’s been a year since she left. Drew stomached four seasons with no sun. The leaves changed from emerald to gold, and flowers bloomed and wilted, but she wasn’t there.
“Took you long enough,” Drew joked.
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” May reasoned, kneeling beside him. Drew fidgeted, mentally bludgeoned by how close they were now; she placed a leaf over his nose and giggled as his nostrils flared.
It’s terrifying how her existence cleared the wild static itching in his brain. He almost laughed at his own expense, how he spent time lying to himself that the part of him that needed her had frozen over, but it was a comfort knowing that would never be true — Drew will always be the boy who pricked his fingers on thorned roses despite the scars for a girl who deserved them.
. . .
Mezagoza Times — Cafecito and Contests with the Princess of Hoenn:
With the sudden push for diversifying knowledge at Naranja Academy, the Paldea Region welcomes a new surge of students interested in the art and career of coordinating. As a result, the Paldea Contest Circuit has taken root in Paldea, with about fifteen contests ready to be hosted across the region. Created by legendary Top Coordinator Nando Arguilar, a former student of Leader Brassisus, and endorsed by Champion Geeta and the Paldea League, the circuit has caught the attention of seasoned coordinators and new trainers from not only Paldea but around the world.
May Mendoza, also famously known as the Princess of Hoenn, is one of the many contest stars of this year’s circuit. Originally from Petalburg City, May has traveled and participated in multiple contests over six years. With one Top Coordinator title under her belt, May emphasized she intends to keep the momentum and claim another trophy at the end of this season.
“Paldea is beautiful,” May told us over cafe con leches in Seabreeze Cafe in Mezagoza City. “I’ve only been here shortly, but I already feel connected to the spirit and the pokemon — everything and everyone here has a refreshing, almost bold energy that I rarely experience. Paldea used to be on my bucket list with your amazing food tours and endless ecosystems, but to be here for a new circuit is a privilege. I am also grateful for all my friends and teachers at the academy and hope to continue learning as much as possible.”
And on behalf of Paldea, we are grateful to have May.
When May isn’t participating in contests, she is also a student prefect at Naranga Academy. She frequents campus with her fidough and beautifly, hosting study sessions specifically for appeals and contest-style battling tips — the academy has verified her study sessions extra credit for their latest course addition — Contest 101: The History and Future of Contests.
Only time can tell this year’s winner with the Grand Festival months away, but one thing is for sure, Paldea has its eyes on you, princess.
. . .
Tucked away in Drew’s wallet is a folded magazine article, her smile plastered on the shiny paper and engrossed in his brain.
. . .
It took May and Drew an hour to leave the Saffron City outskirts, but eventually, they were deep in the forest, working their way uphill. Gary provided coordinators of where he expected the kaleidoscope of butterfree to meet around sundown — on a mountain cliffside overlooking the great Kanto plains.
“We’re lost.” May had her map app pulled up on her rotom phone. Drew almost wanted to comment on the cracked screen but decided against it.
“We aren’t lost. It isn’t necessarily a straightforward path. If anyone is familiar enough with Kanto, it’s Gary Oak.”
May’s doubtful expression broke into a pleased smile. “Drew, you’ve met your match.”
He simmered under her thoughtful stare, touching his pale neck, feeling the heat of slight embarrassment. He hid part of his face with his jacket collar. “He’s a good friend,” Drew replied eventually. “We get along alright.”
When you take six months off from your dream path, you don’t expect to fall into cahoots with someone that can relate to your plights. Drew met Gary at a time in his life when he began questioning himself and his goals deeply. Drew didn’t want to give up coordinating — but after winning a Grand Festival and seeing your rival win one right after you — you began questioning how much more there is to accomplish as an artist. Stunted, reliant on a shared dream, and fully ready to experience something new, Drew accepted Gary’s offer to travel together — and began his new source of inspiration: researching contest appeals and providing his data to the Interregional Federation of Contests. Unlike May, he was training for his future circuit but not actively participating. May was across the world, somewhere new without him, and Drew silently praised Paldea for treating her with such respect. The world sees May the way Drew has for years — they finally caught up just when he was finally ready to take steps in another direction. Drew had to laugh — the press always did call him a trendsetter.
Drew loved May first, after all.
Her hands were cuffed behind her back now, crossed together as she tilted forward with each step. “I’ve made a lot of friends in Paldea too.”
“That so?”
“They ask about you, but it always ends up with them teasing me.”
Drew hurried up, his feet relentless as he walked faster and faster.
“Drew, wait up!”
He sighed and obliged. “We might miss them if we keep up this pace,” he said, turning back to look at May — cherries distracting his mind. “I might need to rent a blimp to meet them at the next point of contact if I don’t meet them this evening.”
“Okay, Mr. Drama Pants. Anyway, I wanted to say,” she caught up beside him, knocking her shoulder into his, “—thank you for inviting me. Not every day you get to see a sea of butterfree in love. Ash told me that their migration looks like the sky is under an invasion!”
He knocked back into her. “That’s a frightening visual. But thank you for coming along. I don’t think I could’ve done this alone.”
“But are you sure you want to do this?”
He blinked, maneuvering a branch from out of their way. “I have to do it. I’ve thought about it, but following the natural path may be best for Butterfree. It’s up to him to decide, May. I’m telling him whether he stays or goes — I support him.”
“What about what’s best for you?”
Drew swallowed the lump in his throat, moved by her sincerity to the point he pushed ahead. “As long as my butterfree is happy, I’m happy. As long as those I care about make the right choice for them, then who am I to interfere?”
“It’s weird,” an underlying tone to her voice. “In my experience, you constantly interfered. The type who goes after what he wants.”
Stomaching her words, he breathed in deeply; his sight trailed above the melting clouds as the sun crept away from its spot in the sky. Finally, the sunset was approaching, leaving a cloudless sky and only a handful of minutes left.
“Not always,” he replied, offering her his hand with a shaky wrist. “It’s important to know when to step back. Let’s go — it’s getting late.”
“That’s rich coming from you.”
He lifted his brow, his cheeks a tinge of pink. Drew blinked as May giggled, visually pleased with herself, her energy warm and familiar. The same laugh that sent him down spirals late at night — forcing him to realize what it means to see someone and care for them. To care for someone so deeply that the thought of not following them felt as if you weren’t only abandoning them, you were abandoning yourself because who are you without them? In her laugh, Drew discovered mysteries about himself he never dreamed of unboxing — she pulled out the softest parts of him. “And what does that mean?”
“Nothing, nothing,” she shook her head, chest thudding with gee. “After you.” Accepting his hand firmly, she nodded and followed beside him. Skin to skin, awkwardly climbing together as they approached the clearing to the cliff. The scent of honey and bark was thick in the air.
They didn’t split apart — their hands joined together as the two approached the cliff carefully, the rocks under their feet frosted with lime-green moss; in awe of endless wings fluttering above them, they soaked the beauty in silently, nothing but whirlwinds enveloping the trainers. The butterfree danced towards the melted horizon — speckles of lavender and ruby against the watercolor sky—a pallet of violet, marigold, and the softest blue. One of many sunsets shared, but this time, Drew thought of his partner and reached into his pocket for him, full of grief that the end is near.
Butterfree’s pokeball was perfectly polished. Drew’s eyes began to water in memory of their first ribbon together — a gust, hypnosis, and a spectacle of poison brought them to victory.
“This is your stop, Butterfree,” Drew choked out and clicked on the ball — a brilliant cast of light welcoming his butterfree.
“Fr-free?” The bug-type vibrated, head twisted to the side in confusion.
Drew nodded toward the flock. “It’s your time to move on, friend. We made it just in time, so you should be able to catch up to them—“
“Fre!” Butterfree encircled Drew in distress, shaking his head and flapping his wings with vigor.
“What’s wrong? You don’t want to follow them?”
“Freeeee!” He sang.
The trainer frowned. “I don’t understand. But if you ever want to find a mate…”
“Drew,” May began, holding his hand tightly, “I think Butterfree wants to stay with you. Isn’t that right?”
Butterfree twirled and booped May’s nose with his — a sign of friendship and trust amongst the bug-type species. She wrinkled her nose in delight.
“Are you sure you want to stay?”
Butterfree booped Dre on the nose — nuzzling against him. Drew wiped the tears with the back of his free hand and smiled. “If that’s what you want. I promise I’ll always be there for you, old friend. But if you ever want to go and find love — I won’t stop you.”
“Bree-free! Bree!”
Drew blinked.
May whispered in Drew’s ear. “He seems a little frazzled…”
“Yeah…I don’t—“
Butterfree paid no mind to May’s personal space as he quickly sniffed around and bit around the fanny pack strap around her waist, pulling on it. “Woah! Wait—“
“Butterfree!” Drew panicked. One of May’s pokeballs hit the ground and sprung a wave of white light. “Beautifly?” They questioned in unison, completely confused by the outburst on Butterfree’s end.
“Bree!! Bree-free!”
“Beauuuuut-fly?”
In a swift burst of energy, Drew’s butterfree pressed his face against May’s beautifly and danced around her. It took Beautifly a moment before accepting the confession then she flapped closer to Butterfree, knocking their heads together. The pair began to dance together until they were spinning in harmonious sync. They were tethered together, riding a cyclone — reaching higher and higher with no mind to the other butterfree. Butterfree’s heart belonged to another.
Untouched by law and land, the lovers left dust sprinkles in their wake — washing over their trainers in a haze. Sparks fly, and they make up for the distance and time spent away from each other.
“May,” Drew said, fully in awe at the sparks above them, “I really had no idea….”
“Neither did I,” she admitted. “Despite all the times they’ve competed against each other….”
“Butterfree loved Beautifly. Wow.” Drew’s heart swelled with laughter — blood racing within the veins — their spirit was infectious. “No wonder he helped pick out so many roses. He must’ve really thought they were for her.”
May pulled at his hand and laced their fingers together — skin calloused at the fingertips, with thorn-shaped scars, but she accepted every imperfection as she grazed her thumb against his thumb. “They weren’t for her? Funny.”
Drew shook his head. His grip tightened as he led them closer to the edge — keeping her safety in mind with every cautious step. It is in blind faith that Drew took another step; it is in May’s warmth that Drew found peace; it is in foolish hope that Drew ignored the fear of rejection pooling in the gut; it is in—
“You know I’m in love with you, right?” A breathless sigh escaped as his bottom lip quivered — yet his voice was low and steady. “I’ve always been in love with you.”
They stood in silence. He could hear the brush of air through the treetops and see the crookedness of her eyeliner. Drew didn’t dare look away, and she remained as beautiful as the last day he saw her. This time there was no moonlight - May was dripping in the sunset glow, a blazed; her chestnut hair waving in the wind, and in the nick of time, he caught her silk scarf with his free hand. Her eyes snapped open and closed repeatedly - flecks of azure shining, all honey-eyed — she looked as if her heart attempted to crawl out of her chest the way she clutched it. Cheeks reddened, lips parted—
It looked like his words gave her a new burst of life.
And in a quick motion, she curled her fingers into his hair and dragged her palm down, grasping his face in wild desperation; she seemed in disbelief that he was tangible, vulnerable, but more than anything, that he was hers.
She bit out, “I missed you. I missed you — and the way you were. Always a constant for me, no matter the time or place. Knowing you were around the corner gave me strength, whether you meant to or not. I missed the way we were — to be able to look across a room, see you and the green of your eyes, and know that everything will be okay. Why? Because you’re there, Drew. You’re the only one—“
“Everything will be okay,” he swore, bringing his hand over hers as she cupped his face even tighter. She was really laughing then. At that, Drew had swallowed audibly and began laughing with her, feeling his shoulders ease.
“It’s going to take some time,” she told him, wiping the tears from under his crystal eyes. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to meet you halfway anytime soon.”
Under her touch, how could he care? He would wait for her, no matter how far apart they were or how long it took — she didn’t even need to give him a reason. When it comes to them, everything will be okay. It’s a truth he held onto — since the first time they both lost their first Grand Festival.
Life insists on it — that they will always come together. As frequently as a rose blooms, they will meet again and again.
“And just so you know,” May quipped, pressing a kiss to the side of his face, “I love you, too.”
Safe in each other’s hands, hearts a flutter, they bloom.
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