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It’s days like these that Ritchie doesn’t understand how he’d gotten up to this point.
“Are you okay!?” he asked, because naturally that’s what you would ask someone stuck in a small ridge in the middle of the biggest cliffside in Hoenn. Or so the map suggested.
The small speck up there waved something that caught the sunlight, momentarily blinding him from his superior vantage point. “I’m not dead yet!” he called out in response, before pausing. “Would be nice if I could get down though!”
“…Can you?”
The silence proved a pretty good answer.
He sighed, rubbing his forehead and almost knocking off his hat. Sparky gave him a concerned squeak, so of course the headache had to give way for another plan in his head. “I’m going to get up to the top of the cliff, so don’t move, okay!?” And without missing a beat he set off, wondering once again just how does he get into these situations.
Turns out that flashy light was a camera. And that he just helped an aspiring ‘World’s Greatest Pokémon Photographer’ called Todd out after he shot an admittedly stunning view of migrating Altaria and Swablu. And that Todd nearly died at least three times while hanging there, not even counting the one time the rope slipped between them and the camera bag nearly fell down a very, very long way down and he dove off the side of the cliff.
(But they’re okay now. Seriously. Stop looking at me like that, Zippo.)
“How long were you stuck there?” he asked, untying the rope from the tree and wrapping it around his hands.
He shrugged in response, gently scratching the chirping Pikachu that curled up next to him as he flicked through the last few pictures on his camera roll. “Probably around five hours? I wasn’t really keeping track of time up there, but without you I just know I would’ve been camping out there for at least a day. So, thanks again!”
Ritchie watched him and his carefree expression, feeling the beginnings of a knot starting up in his stomach, unfamiliar and all too big for him to get out (it's been a while since he felt like this, missing something reminiscent of the past). “Glad I can help.” His voice trailed off as he thought about something, hands slowing down, and try as he might he just couldn’t shake the worry away. “You are okay, though, right?”
The photographer withdrew his hand from the content Pokémon and snapped the case shut before shooting him with the brightest grin, full blast Hyper Beam, and the trainer’s heart skipped a beat at the full force of it as his hands stopped completely. Sticking out a thumb up the former cheerily replied, “Hey, I’m here, aren’t I? And with all these pictures, I‘d say I’m even better! Honestly, if there is anything I can do to help—”
“N-No, don’t worry, I’m good.” More than good, too much of a good thing. If he were the type of person he would bet that this was the reason why both of them ended up in this situation—this want bordering on need when it comes to catching their dreams, to help others, the whole work. Even if he hasn’t stayed with anyone long enough to know how this will end up, he knows it wouldn’t be worth it. It's obvious that the only right answer is for him to just leave now—it would be so much more better if they weren’t entangled any more than they already were, except for the fact that this brand of recklessness felt so achingly familiar to him. “Anyways, I need to get going, so stay safe out there and please don’t give any more heart attacks to any of the other strangers you meet in your future travels.”
Todd barked out a surprised laugh, smile lines even more prominent as his eyes shone with admiration. “You’re a quick guy, huh? Well, the least I can do is come around with you, especially since it’s getting late and I know a pretty good diner out here. My treat.” And without missing a beat he shouldered his own bag and snatched his right out of his back, laughing as he dodged both trainer and electric mouse (who was jolted out of its sleepy state by his owner’s yelp of surprise) and ran off into the sunset.
Shaking his head in resignation, Ritchie called back his other Pokémon and chased after him, Sparky perched on his head and the sun framing his new acquaintance in shades of red and gold.
“So, you’re training to be a Pokémon Master?” Lying down on the top bunk bed, Todd yawned. “That sounds like someone I know. Maybe you’ve heard of him; he gets around a lot. A little bit like you, now that I think about it, especially with that pikachu.”
Ritchie paused, half-folded gloves nestled in his hands as the edges of his mouth raised up in a half smile. “You’ve been to Kanto and Johto, right?” Not really waiting for an answer, he let out a pent-up breath that whistled in the moonlit dorm and laid down the gloves. “It’s not the first time I’ve been told that, but I can’t say it isn’t nice to hear we still got it. It’s been a while since I last saw him, so all I got was word of mouth and whatever... thing that we have that somehow keeps us equal in life.”
A quietly tired laugh answered him. “The last time I saw him was clips from League playbacks, so I’m not that ahead of you. It’s been years since I have been around, and we never really stick around too long when we cross paths. Still nice to see him whenever we do, though; he really seems to be getting better, y’know? If you keep practicing, maybe you can rival him.” A hat hit his face, and he sputtered before tearing it off his face. “Okay, that’s definitely something he would pull.”
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” he pointedly asked, ignoring the dry comment as he closed the window and stretched his arms in the middle of the room, winding down and getting ready for the bed.
Tossing it back, Todd had the distinct displeasure of hearing it plop on the ground. In equal parts deflection, comeback, and curiosity, he asked, “Where are you headed?”
“In the morning? To the Petalburg Gym, it’s been a while since I’ve actually gotten a badge and I’ve heard the Gym Leader was a pretty big deal there, so it’d be a pretty memorable match no matter how it goes.” Ritchie slid into the bed below and threw the blanket over himself, content as well as ready to let sleep claim in slow waves.
The other boy let out an appreciative hum in reply to what he just said, a bit soft and tapering off at the end. “Ooh, a journey!” he said, voice full of sleep. “If you don’t mind, can I hitch a ride along with you? I’ve heard about the Gym Leader there having a greenhouse full of Pokémon that I would love to catch in a picture, and I feel like that's the thing that would finally give me the new perspective that I've been looking for.”
The most it will take is a week. “The more the merrier,” he replied mechanically, already halfway into a deep sleep himself.
“See you tomorrow, then. And good night, of course.”
“Good night.”
Watching him take pictures of various Pokémon as they travelled, an idea popped in Ritchie’s head. He finally found the words for it after they settled down for lunch, vividly recalling the way he crouched in the grass and tiptoed around the subject of his point-of-view, catching the light and adjusting the lens and pod, his tongue sticking out as he focused with every bit of energy stored within him. “You know, you act a little bit like a Pokémon Watcher.”
Todd scratched his cheek in embarrassment, lowering the muffin he was eating. “Man, I’m not nearly as talented as those guys. All I do is angle the camera right and it takes the picture for me; they have to draw it all with their own hand. Also, they’re loads more smarter than me. Don’t a few of them become professors or sumthin’?”
Ritchie shook his head, gesturing with the rice ball in his hand. “Hey, don’t sell yourself short! Art is art, and you’re plenty smart as it is. And anyways, they have different strengths.”
“Huh?”
He tapped the bottom of his chin with his free hand, thinking. “Well, I’m not an expert or anything, but I’ve been around a few Watchers and they’re a lot more philosophical. They get what is there, but a lot of it is filling in the blanks and what they think about it all. But you capture the real deal, the truth, no matter how simple or complex. You use the world to lay what it says with nothing else attached, and to me that takes a lot of smarts.”
The photographer blushed and looked away. “You don’t have to stroke my ego, you know! I’m not saying I’m bad, just that…”
The trainer raised an eyebrow and took a bite out of his food, his pikachu mirroring him. Todd shook his head and did not bite his food, somehow defeated by a two-on-one battle before it truly began. He still tried to wave it off as dismissively as he could, if only for the sake of his very much present pride. “Come off it, or soon you’ll start regretting it when I start taking over the world with your bed hair plastered over every screen.”
He instinctively raised a hand to the top of his head, frowning in worry. “Look,” he said, shaking off that particular problem, “What I meant to say is, you both analyse a situation. You, for the most part, seem to know how to approach any Pokémon in their natural habitat and appreciate them in a way only you can. Both of you capture a moment in time and study all the small details and find a way to capture it the best way possible. In all my years of travelling, the one thing that I’ve never got bored of was the world around me, and anyone who can catch all of that in a picture? They’re amazing.”
Todd stood up and turned away so fast that the camera strapped over his neck jumped around, throwing his hands up before rubbing his own head, groaning all the while. “Arceus, is it my birthday today and you know it? Did you bump your head? Are you running a fever, because I’m sure there’s a Pokémon Centre somewhere here if you need it.”
The trainer laughed despite himself. “Hey, I’m just telling the truth. It’s a good day, and you’ve got good skills. Can’t I compliment a friend when I get the chance?”
“Not like that!”
He put one of his own hands up and stood up, dusting off his pants after he tied up the picnic blanket and hauled it over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, then. Next time I’ll just say that you’re the worst and that everyone should evacuate the area whenever you pull your bag up.”
He turned around to give him a stink eye. “You’re impossible.”
He gave him a wild grin, bed hair and all, and replied in one smooth go, “No, I’m just improbable.”
(Sparky just sent Todd a shrug, as if saying ‘What did you expect?’ and honestly, he deserved that.)
Holding up a registration sheet, Todd stood over him and said, “Aw, come on, don’t knock it until you try it.”
Ritchie raised an eyebrow, not looking up from the bag he was stuffing supplies into. “Knocking on wood relates to gaining blessing from Celebi according to Johtonians, so I very much will do that as much as I want to. And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a coordinator.”
He beamed, not even caring about the first statement as he gripped the piece of paper tightly with both hands. “Don’t you understand? It’s an unofficial one, which means that there’s no need for a pass, and it’s good practice for you! As they say, competition doesn’t beat itself.”
“What do you get out of it?”
“Couldn’t it be out of the goodness of my own heart?”
The trainer flashed him a flat look. The brown-haired boy flushed, scratching the side of his face with one finger. “Sheesh, okay! It also happens to be a perfect place to shoot some pictures; with all those performances, it’s sure to land me top-of-the-collection stuff for sure.”
Zipping up the bag, he snatched the paper and read it over. “Why couldn’t you just go in without me?” Ritchie asked, leaning forward despite himself.
“What did I just say?”
Rolling his eyes, he got up and slung the bag over his shoulder, forcing Todd to run after him. “Hey, wait, where are you going?”
“Well, I thought we all know that competition doesn’t beat itself.”
It took a few seconds for him to realise that— “Hey, you better not quote me in front of the whole crowd, okay?!” he yelled, chasing him into the bright morning ahead of them.
(Just what has he unleashed?)
“You’ve got that calculating look in your eye again.”
Ritchie let out a distracted ‘huh’, eyes darting around the waiting room as his Grovyle bristled, leaves standing on its ends. Todd blocked his vision, clicking his fingers three times as he bent down to his eye level. “Hey, don’t let it get to you. I know I said it’s good practice, but you need to really calm down a little if you want to continue breathing like a normal human being. It’s not only a battle, it’s also a performance—there’s a reason why they call the first round here in Hoenn the appeal stage. As long as you combine your experience with good style and efficiency, you’re all set.”
He shook his head, slumping a little before straightening up once more, crossing his arms on top of that as he plastered a stony expression on his face. “I’m not worried; I’m just measuring up the competition.”
He gave him a sceptical look in return, crossing his own arms. “Mmhm, and I’m a flaming Moltres. Look, don’t worry about them. You know and I know that you’re one of the best, so just go in and show ‘em that.”
“And now, presenting Ritchie!”
As he stood up, so fast it almost knocked the photographer off his feet, he still managed to land a gloved hand on his shoulder as he walked past; just enough time to hurriedly whisper, “So go and get them, champ,” before the entrance swallowed him up and a tiny figure of him appeared on the screen instead.
Just enough to make the one-time coordinator smile a little, despite himself.
“Okay, to take a picture, you first need to balance out the exposure triangle: ISO, aperture, and shutter speed. You see that F over there, that’s for how much light gets into our depth of field —get the F now? —or aperture… yeah, so since we’ve got a subject here, we’re gonna need a big number for it.”
“Is this enough?”
“Keep going just a bit… that’s great! Okay, next up is shutter speed— that helps control how long the shutter stays open, which affects how blurry the action can be. I’m sure Sparky doesn’t want to be lounging around in this general area for too long, so to match the Pokémon we can make it quick and snappy!”
“Is it the other—okay, yep, got it going.”
“…You can stop now; any more and the dial is gonna break. Hey, it’s amazing what you’re doing right now. Most beginners, and many people that I know, would just stick with automatic, so trust me that there is a reason why fiddling with these settings is pretty high-level.”
“There’s automatic?!”
“I figured you would like the challenge. Do you want to prove me wrong—okay! A very enthusiastic learner, we got on our hands. So last but certainly not least, we’ve got ISO, which is just a fancy term for this guy’s sensitivity to light… Yeah, it’s on settings, you see where it says ISO? We’ve got plenty of it around here, so let’s get a low number, around 110 would be nice.”
“Got it.”
“Indeed you have. Now you gotta hold it with both hands.”
“Like this?”
“Yeah, like that. Now, grip the right side of the camera with your right hand and place your left hand beneath the lens to support the weight of the camera… that’s good. Just move it a little over here… perfect! You’ve adjusted all the technical stuff, you’ve got the right pose—wait, just pull it a little closer to yourself, yep—so all we need is a good angle to catch this fella in. I already told you about rule of threes and anyways it's already there on the screen, so there's that taken care of. If you want to lean in, then you have to commit to it. Focus on the eyes, they’re always important. Think about the Pokémon, all the little things that make them up, all those moments that add up to the one right in front of you. You said this is all about the truth, and this is what we’re going to get… yes, now when it feels right go for it!”
Click.
Ritchie pushed the camera out of his face, blinking rapidly before zooming in himself and focusing on the end result. Todd grinned, watching his reaction instead as Sparky jumped onto his own shoulder to look over it as well, wanting to see the fruits of his labour.
“It’s… amazing! It almost looks like the real thing!”
The photographer winked at the childlike awe in his usually patient voice, rubbing the other’s auburn hair in joy as he grabbed the camera and lifted it up for the pikachu to see. Over the impressed cooing and the impatient hand-slapping, he replied, “Of course it is; you’ve just got schooled by a Master of Pokémon Photography, and you just got a taste of perfection.” Looking over it, he whistled. “But even by my standards, this is a very good shot you got here. Are you sure you weren’t a Master of the Snap in a past life? Because you really weren’t lying about the whole real thing though.”
“Isn’t your surname Snap?”
“…Really is a work of art you got here,” he whispered in a slightly lower tone as he tilted his head at the camera enraptured, almost full wrapped up in himself; and the thing is Ritchie couldn’t bring himself to take him out of it after all he’s done, so he just took Sparky back onto his lap and leaned back onto his palms and admired the view ahead of them.
Both of them seated on the forest floor, living out life one click at a time.
Ritchie was stuck in the line for pastries sculptured in likeness of a certain Gym Leader (to a very uncomfortable degree) when he realised that he lost Todd somewhere along the way.
“How could—” Spinning around on his spot, he then stuck his neck around looking for the photographer, shaking his head when he came up with nothing. He couldn’t just leave, not when there were only four people in front of him, and yet… “Hey, Sparky, can you go find Todd?”
The yellow rat, who was drooling over the sponge cakes sequestered nearby, gave him a glare and an angry ‘ pika-pi-KA ’ in response, gesturing towards the food for good measure. He shook his head, and gestured into the space between the stalls before miming taking a picture with a camera. His Pokemon, however, wasn’t interested and instead jumped down to take his place in the line, nudging him off with a threatening crackle of his whiskers.
Duly noted. Ritchie knew when he was beat, and anyways, he doubted it was going to be that good anyways.
His stomach grumbled as he wandered through the crowd, trying to spot curly brown hair or a flash of red and black stripes, and somwhere along the way the taste of static on his tongue became stronger and stronger, the feeling of need more energy, need more spark, hurt-hurt-hurts echoing in his head. He stopped still, finding himself at the opening of the nearby forest, the feelings overwhelming him so much he nearly flinched as he shook his head and continued following.
Tugging him forward, lightning-broken-sky , something that radiated from all those nicks and scratches over his arms and shoulders, an ancient power calling him (a darting shadow zipping from high above). Squinting forward, he venturned up the hill, rocks and crackling leaves underneath his shoes as he came closer to the source—
A Zapdos, curled up as much as it could and radiating energy, as potent as a battery leaking acid and yet almost just as flat.
The trainer let out a long breath, eying up the Legendary Pokemon. It’s not the first time since he has gone up against great powers, but considering how hurt it was, he definitely needed some supplies that he didn’t have at the moment. That’s not getting started on the problems anything electrical has been suffering lately in the town they have been staying at down below (how far has he wandered off to?), extending to even Pokemon themselves, which meant that he definitely needed to stay alert around it at all times for any other side effects.
Even if he was still hungry. Even if he hasn't found what he was actually looking for.
Creeping forward, the skill honed by catching Pokémon and perfected by spending time with his travelling friend, he crouched nearby and then whispered, “Hey there, Zapdos. I’m Ritchie, and I noticed that you seemed a little hurt there. If you would just let me treat you after I come back, I promise you’ll be feeling a lot better. How about it?”
The bird let out a low keen in response, weak sparks flickering from the edges of its wings. He hummed in response, before slowly getting up and walking away towards civilization, already running through his head what things he might need.
Sliding down the hill, he dropped down steeply before jumping over the flags and gates that was erected around the sides of the festive road and running forward, bumping into people and apologizing as often as he could. When he felt a hand touch his shoulder he flinched, turning around to hit the—
“Hey, where’s the big rush?”
Oh. It was just Todd. “You scared me there for a second, but this is no time to talk. Have you seen Sparky?”
The photographer grinned, holding a gift bag in front of him that had strange muching sounds emanating from it. Ritchie sighed, turning ahead to resume running as much as he could while thinking about the problem. “Of course. Maybe there’s a deeper reason for this type of behavior.”
“What do you mean? And you haven’t replied to my earlier question, you know!”
A Restore. A Full Heal. At the very least, a Potion. “I’ll explain everything later. Just make sure that you’re in a biking mood.”
He heard quick footfalls behind him, beating a statacco beat against the time they had left (until someone bad comes, until it tries to leave once more, until something much worse happens). “Aw man. My legs still haven’t recovered from the last time we did that. Biking roads should be the first thing abolished in every region, right after evil gangs and exorborant prices for any good piece of technology.”
Citrus berry. Sooth bell (just for a second). Magnet. “You can wait if you want. It might be too dangerous anyways, and I can handle it on my own.”
HP Up (why was it so close?). Herbal medicine (why did it call for me?). Good weather and no more trouble, except for the fact that it can’t be helped.
“Don't say that!"
They were just a few steps away from the start of the road, and yet his feet stopped for him as his brow furrowed in confusion. "It would be safer for you, especially since you don't have any—"
"I know I don't have any Pokémon or am a trainer myself, but I can help myself, y'know?" Todd bursted out, his breath too ragged to be completely due to the trek itself. "I can help, whatever this is. If it is as serious as you say it is, then I'm all for the assist, especially if it's dangerous as well. Don't you see the storm brewing? Don't you care what's could happen to you if..." He took a deep breath, reaching a hand to hover uncertainly over Ritchie's shoulder, a port in this eye of the storm (too calm, too used to throwing himself for others) before firmly landing (because he was just as stubborn too, and he knows, even if it a little bit). "Look, friends look after friends, okay? Even human ones, if you aren't aware. I'm going no matter what, so come on and let's get a move on before we get drenched."
And in a few minutes, Ritchie (who couldn't argue with that logic) found himself running towards to the bike shop with him, a spare raincoat covering him as the cycling road winded in front of them.
Half an hour, they managed to find a Revive hidden in some grassy patch and a Full Heal in another, just when the sky started to spit.
Another twenty minutes (after Todd was forced to poke an Oddish away from himself with his collasped but fully extended tripod seconds before it denotated its stun spore everywhere and Ritchie found himself getting another crick in the neck from dodging a curious Wingull), and they were back on the path when the question was asked. "So, what did you find? Must be something big for you to get this much healing supplies."
He gave him a look before looking away with a sigh. "It's a Zapdos. I don't know how, but it's hurt badly and I'm not sure if whatever attacked it is gonna come back."
"An actual Zapdos?" A nod. Todd tilted his head while scrubbing orange powder off the tripod with a wipe. "Wait, so something attacked it?"
"Well, there were signs of struggle around the area, like broken tree branches. And there were marks on it that couldn't have been self-inflected or an accident, and especially the way the electricity from it seemed sucked away." Ritchie shrugged, pushing away some of the shrubbery to climb on top of a large rock. "I don't know how to explain it, but it's there if you look for yourself."
"Woah, I'm not doubting you, I'm just making sure that we don't get attacked from the same thing. But still, that's pretty smart of you, to figure it out and plan a way to help it so fast; I haven't even noticed there was so many items around the road like that!"
The trainer shook his head, waiting for him to catch up before continuing on. "It's a thing lots of people would've noticed on many different routes, especially if they are going from battle to battle. Honestly I have no idea if some of it counts as litering or not, but I take what I need and leave the rest for others, just in case. And anyone would've helped, I'm sure."
"A Zapdos?" He snorted, punctuating his disbelief by wielding his tripod as a baseball bat against low-hanging tree branches. "I've seen an Articuno up close and even took a picture of it, but lemme tell you, I was absolutely terrified for my life back then and still can't believe I'm actually alive afterwards. Legendary Pokémon don't come for just anyone, y'know, even when hurt. You're something special, buddy."
Feeling the tips of his ear pinken, Richie pointed up ahead. "Be careful, it's just a few steps ahead." Tugging at the raincoat's hoodie to cover his face when the pelting rain changed directions, he crossed the distance into the field, spotting the legendary bird lying in the middle of it and slowing down as a result.
Todd came up after him, rubbing at one of his arms while looking around wearily. "I dunno about you, but I feel like I'm being watched."
Ritchie nodded, one hand drifting close to his Pokéballs as he went across the field, watching around as Todd followed from behind and held the tripod near himself. Zapdos was asleep, as much as the trainer could tell anyways, conserving its energy and maybe waiting for a stray lightning strike to rejuvenate its power stores. As it was, a strange clear patch of sky was above them instead, covered in dancing lights and a view of distant stars, even though it was nowhere near nightfall. Rubbing its back and trying to ignore that little fact, he sprayed the Full Heal over its wounds before giving it the Revive, posture still alert for any incoming intruders even as time passed by and nothing changed.
From behind him, he heard an awed, "Oh." and despite everything, he still turns to look at him before following his gaze upwards.
And maybe it's too late to say it now, but look: he's no chosen one. He's not anything more or less than your average Pokémon Trainer, and honestly some days he finds himself drifting across a region, getting caught up in things he's really not up for. He's time-travelled, dealt with too many encounters with evil mobs, met more Legendaries than a collective town would see in a couple of lifetimes. There's probably lots more weird encounters on the horizon, and he doesn't really know what to think about all of that, especially with his goal of being the best Pokémon Master out there coming hand in hand with his never-ending curiousity, but sometimes, and maybe even more times than not, he finds himself coming to them instead of them coming to him.
(shouting it over a lake with a kindred spirit, having lost but somehow also winning because they were together)
So when he looks up himself and sees a [Deoxys, the DNA Pokémon] watching them curiously as it floated above them, he reaches a hand that was still coated in Revive dust and basked in the alien feel of it all, the strange giddy feeling of coming in contact with a legend.
(maybe a little bit like now)
Click.
"Hey, there," Ritchie said, because what else do you say? He thought before a bit, before something clicked in his mind. "Did you have a fight with Zapdos before? Is it because it thought you were in its territory?"
It made a strange sound, a vibration that was not of this earth. It sounded like a yes, to him anyways. The Zapdos started to awaken, crackling energy, and Ritchie turned to face it. Maybe it was because it was already hurt and wanted to get away to recharge the rest of the way up (Revive only restores half of a Pokémon's health), or maybe it noticed that the Deoxys did not attack it, even when down, but the electric bird gaze both trainer and fellow sky-traveller a nod before taking off, arcing in the vast stormy grey like a reverse lightning bolt. The other Pokémon twisted around him, eyes always watching before snapping its head up and shooting off in the opposite direction.
Click. Click.
Ritchie collasped onto the ground behind him, ground hitting damp grass right when the sky suddenly cleared. "Wow," he gasped, not realising how he was holding his breath until the area was cleared itself. The sky swirled with colours that followed where Deoxys has gone, flickering in bright colours before fading out. "I didn't expect to see that today."
A minute of silence before a chocked out laugh. "Oh, man, what were you expecting? Rayquaza or something?"
"Hey, I didn't say anything about you when you were streching around Cycling Road before picking up anything like some old man."
A flick on his head for that. "Excuse me for not being in peak physical shape, Mr Legendary."
He sighed. "I'm not going to live that one down, aren't I?"
His stomach growled in response, and Todd leaned in front of him with a grin. "Come on, I know you haven't eaten anything yet, so let's go down and get something. I'm sure this time Sparky won't eat all of them this time, with the problem solved and his belly full from all those samples I was saving up."
Ritchie offered up a hand and got the gift bag, complete with a blissed-out Pikachu surrounded by crumbs. Shaking his head he got up and shook off the rain, getting an earful from Todd who was sprayed with wet grass, leading to a talk about something or another on their road to a town unknowingly saved from harm.
Feeling a little different and a little better for it, like one does after an experience like that.
"You took what?!"
It really did say something that Todd was barely fazed when a Pokéball hit him on the face, knocking him onto his back as it snug squarely between his eyes.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I thought you would actually catch it… with your hands I mean—” He heard footsteps behind him, and he slightly groaned as he sat up straight, rubbing his head where the round object had rolled by the base of his entwined shoes. Dimly, he realised that there was a hand extended towards him and he blindly grabbed it, pulling himself up as one of his hands were held over his nose. Ritchie was standing in front of him, apology evident in his eyes even as he muttered something underneath his breath and rubbed the front of his head with the base of his other hand. “Are you okay?”
“’M fim,” Todd replied, voice muffled by his own hand. He then winced, taking it away and checking it before covering that up with as much pep as he could muster. “Seriously; it would take a lot more than that to knock this guy off his feet!”
The trainer in front of him gave him a bemused look, letting go of their mutual grasp on each other’s arms in the process. “What’s with you and knocking?”
He put his hands on his hips, tipping his head at an angle and raising his eyebrows at the question. “So, I can’t be polite anymore? That would make sense for a trainer, barging unannounced into buildings and other peoples’ homes.”
“You say that as if paparazzi doesn’t exist!”
He stuck a hand out, effectively stopping the conversation in its tracks. “Okay, now that we got that out of the way—” a confused snort— “What were you planning to do with that Pokéball?”
Picking it up and tossing it with one hand, Ritchie gave him a warm smile. “I need a battle partner, and you need to gain a new perspective.”
Matching his energy, he smirked as he took his camera bag off his shoulders and laid them beside a nearby tree, rolling them as the heavy weight evaporated (because of course he noticed that the last few days were slow). “Oh, really?”
Lobbing the item over to him, a lot more gentle this time, he replied, “I switched up the ‘balls, so it should be as even as it gets when it comes to choice. And I know that you know most of the attacks of my Pokémon, if not all of them, so all that’s left is you.”
And the thing is, this is the first time that Todd has held a Pokéball. It’s the first time he has actually battled with one, even if he knew the attacks from first- and second-hand experience, and it’s the first time he’s been challenged—on purpose, not just by some mistaken person with a bone to pick. A friend, in his hand and in front of him, both raring to go, and this time he’s not behind the scenes.
So maybe he could be excused for staring at it for a bit, thumb rubbing the sticker on its surface (a mark from its owner), weighing up the feel of it from one gloved hand to another as he watched the other take up his space on the battlefield before throwing it above him and unleashing a bright flash of light.
(Because this time?)
He couldn’t help grinning as his voice melded with his rival over the field with the sun arcing over them, twin attacks crashing into each other in response.
He’s the action.
“Can’t sleep?”
He shrugged, watching the outline of the city below, awash in electric lights under the starry moon. “Tomorrow’s the day.”
A hand on his shoulder, one that he was slowly starting to get used to. “You’ll do great.”
He gave a light-hearted huff, closing his eyes. ‘That’s not what I’m worried about’ laid deep within him, that same knot ever since one of them started to plummet into deserted golden sand, and yet he still couldn’t say it. So level-headed, and yet being alone with someone like him over all this time still left him blindfolded and unbalanced and way too small. “And so will you.”
He beamed, now looking over the same city. “Oh, yeah, I forgot! Can’t wait to get some of that action after your gym battle.”
Why did that feel like getting hit by Surf in slow motion? “Huh. I just realised that you’ve never really watched one live, haven’t you?”
“It’s always good to start off with the best, don’tcha think?”
He could almost feel the wink and turned into his folded arms, the warmed bars beneath it supporting the weight of his head. “I would’ve thought payback’s underneath a guy like you.”
A nonchalant hum. “I’m just saying it as it is.”
(How many people has he left behind? How many left him? What about this makes it any different?)
He still tried to answer with all the brightness he could muster, with everything that was left. “You better show me those pictures when you’re done.”
“Uh-uh-uh. Never rush perfection.”
He let out a non-committal sound. The other leaned over him, worry starting to tinge his usually upbeat aura as he tried to look at him. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just thinking.”
“You’re always thinking.” A few beats of silence passed them. “You know, it always takes a lot of photos to get the right one. It doesn’t mean that the others are bad, even if that last one was the only one everyone else gets to see. And I never throw out my other pictures, even afterwards, especially if they are a bit wonky. Wanna use all the thinking power in that brain of yours to figure it out?”
“…” How does he do this?
(How does he know which buttons to press, what to say, how to stay and keep staying even with the end destination in front of them?)
“Lemme tell you myself; it’s because they’re part of my journey. They help me get better, just like I help them. Just like you and your Pokemon, and just like everyone else we meet along the way.”
(He felt him look, all softened up by the shade of darkness and the lightness around them, and still continued.)
“Whether you win or lose, whether I get those pictures or not, and whether we part ways, I hope you understand that this was the most amount of fun I’ve had ever since I started on my own journey. And I hope that no matter what, you understand that we’re always gonna be buddies, right through you winning the league and being a Champion alongside me, Master Photographer. And if you want, I can mail you all the wonky pictures, just so you know I’m still alive and not hanging off cliffs.”
“…You can be so annoying, you know.”
He laughed, sudden and loud in wake of that tired sentence. “Maybe a little bit of sleep will get some of my philosophical nature out of me and some of that party-pooper attitude out of you. Come on, the beds are calling.”
And despite that want bordering on need, the itchy feeling signalling the end, that inability to truly spit out that knot, he still followed him back into the comforts of the Pokémon Centre room—one of the many things they shared along this journey.
A place of connection, from your heart to mine.
“Hey, a pikachu! You look a lot like… Oh, hello there.”
Ritchie gave a polite smile, holding his hand out in a small wave as Todd fiddled with his equipment behind him. “Hello to you too. I’m here for a gym battle, so if you can direct me to the gym leader, then that would be a big help.”
The boy in front of him nudged his glasses upwards, scrutinising him as he got up from patting Sparky. “You look familiar…” After squinting at him and looking around, he perked up and snapped his fingers. “Hey, you’re the guy who beat Ash in the Indigo League and got top eight, yeah? Ritchie, I think. So cool to meet you!”
“Oh, uh…” The trainer tried his best to not look too bewildered, especially with the photographer laughing behind him. “It’s nice to meet you too…”
“Oh, it’s Max. And my dad is inside, so come on in!” As they followed him inside, they heard the boy murmur, “This is gonna be one of the best battles in a long time!” and Todd nudged him, giving him an ‘I-told-you’ look paired with a smug smile. Ritchie shook his head, moving aside to let Sparky scamper ahead of him; his head already too full of strategies to deploy to think about that little jab—the battle can start any minute now! —and he released a big breath as he stepped into the gym itself.
Todd whistled as he looked at the layout, already holding his camera up and adjusting the settings as soon as he saw the gym leader come out. Max rolled his eyes and started to drag him up the bleachers by his arm. “What’s your deal anyways?” the kid muttered, switching his focus from glaring ahead to tugging his arm insistently when he wouldn’t go up the stairs. “Somehow you’re the second weirdest guy I’ve met, not counting those people on the other side of town.”
The older boy snapped out of it and chuckled, straightening his back from the crouch he instinctively got into as he went up the stairs. “Well, you see, I’m a Pokémon Photographer, and if it's any consolation, my name is Todd. Me and Ritchie have been travelling for a bit since we've been heading in the same destination, and I’ve heard that your father is not only an amazing gym leader but also has a greenhouse where he lets his Pokémon live as naturally as they can.”
“So what if he does?” he questioned, trace amounts of suspicion in his voice even with that superior lilt to it.
Todd gave him a pacifying gesture with his hands, gently letting go of the camera so that it hung by his neck. “If you haven’t figured it out yet, I really wanted to take some pictures of them. That type of thing—it’s super rare in big cities like these, and especially ones from a Gym Leader… the photos would be amazing!”
Max shook his head, walking into one of the seats and sitting down. “I don’t really care what you do, since it’s my dad who you have to ask. But I want to see some of your more recent works, if you’re really as good as they say.”
Sitting down himself, he gave him a bemused look. “As who say?”
He yelped as a massive book overtook his view, the kid flicking through it after summoning it from thin air. He tried to look at it from above before he got slapped with the turn of the pages, finding his face pressed against a familiar picture. "This is yours right? Did you actually take a picture of a Legendary and how? How do you get pictures these good anyways? Do you have any of your own or—"
Raising an eyebrow as best as he could, he said, “If you wanted my autograph so badly, then why didn’t you ask?”
A bang interrupted their chat right before he was probably going to get what he deserved, the battle underway and going strong. "Look, we can talk all about it after this, okay? I really been waiting a while to see this in action, and I'm not going to pass this chance up."
"Suit yourself," Max said, shrugging as he put the book next to himself. "It's not like he can beat my dad anyways, so all I'm here for is some good entertainment."
Todd gasped, shooting him an affronted look. "I bet you that Ritchie will wipe the floor with him!"
"Yeah, yeah, anyone can say anything, you know? But if you're so sure, then why don't we bet on this?" Flashing a sliver badge, he grinned and held his hand out. "Deal?"
A firm handshake in response. "If you want, I can even record the loss for you. As a commemorative gift, from deep within my heart."
The kid shushed him, and the older teen couldn't hold a grin back as he saw a thunderbolt light up the room, reflected in the glasses near him and the windows all around.
(It would be at the end of the battle when he realised that was the badge typically awarded to winning trainers, which resulted in him chasing a big stinking no-good liar and colliding with a very big Pokémon because of course he was set up—)
(Ritchie did not know what to make of Todd being sat on by a Slaking, but something in his intuition told him that Max was to blame for it.)
(Max did not regret it, even if he was stuck with cleaning up the battlefield for the rest of the evening as punishment. What? How do you travel with a Pokémon trainer and not know what a badge was? It's, like, basic knowledge!)
And there they were, hanging around inside an arboretum, one of them snapping pictures while the other lagged behind and watched.
The last leg of their journey together.
“I’m glad, you know.”
Todd crouched around some shrubbery, adjusting the lens of his camera while giving out a distracted, “What do you mean?”
Ritchie closed his eyes as he stayed where he was, leaning against a large tree that allowed light to dapple through its leaves. “Can’t I be happy without needing a reason?” he said, and in a way that was true. He was happy, and there wasn’t one reason for it but rather an amalgam of possibilities, bubbling and shining just like the sunlight above them, too many to name and point out.
Not that he needed to.
“Honestly?” A quiet click . “I feel ya. With the way today was going, if I were a Grass-type I would definitely think I was under the sunniest day in history.”
Underneath his slanted hat, a smile started to blossom. “If I was a Rotom possessing a camera, the photos would definitely come out overexposed.”
“Hey! I said something nice, not traumatising.”
“Sorry.” Ritchie felt fluffy tips whisk over his face and he cracked open an eyelid, seeing a skitty perch on his knees and starting to knead. He petted it, starting to drift off again until he heard another click, much closer this time. “Did you just take a picture of me?”
“Can’t you be natural for a second of your life?” was the exasperated reply, but there was definitely a glimmer of light-hearted teasing in his voice. “You literally have a skitty on your lap and all you had to do was sleep still!”
He wanted to argue that no, he was not sleeping , he was just napping, but that felt like missing the point. “At this point, I’m willing to accept that I literally smell like Ash, and that’s why this little one felt so comfortable with me.”
He could already envision Todd jerking away, instictively pinching his nose with one of his hands while also managing to stick out an accusatory finger with the same one. “Aww, no, now you’ve done it! How can you make something so cute so weird like that? And with a straight face… no, you’re smiling! You monster!”
“There’s no need to overreact,” he tried to say with a level voice, “I’m not the one who kept yelling for us to get out of the hot spring early.”
“That was only one time, and you know it was because it was getting way too hot.”
“You know what they say about cold hands.”
“You’re impossible,” he said, but he was laughing too, letting his camera rest to take his hat away from his face. “C’mon, I’ve got enough snaps for an album, and a champion deserves to rest on a real bed.”
He made an unintelligible noise as he got up, snatching his hat back to put it in its right place before dusting himself off. “Only if you’re paying.”
“Man, what a slouch. Somehow you’re even more lazier than a slaking.”
That spurred him to walk even faster than him, which allowed him to throw a teasing look at the raised eyebrow he copped up and a hasty, “And you’re more negative than an x-ray.” He heard a rapid tap behind him coming up with a vengence and turned around, almost squeaking at the way the photographer was running towards him with his hands outstretched as he tried to grab him, and the trainer just managed to dance away from the attack, laughing himself as he watched the other hit the glass, who twisted his body just enough to make sure that the camera didn’t get hit as well—
And well?
You know how it goes.
(Another sunset, another day, another—)
///
"So, where are you headed next?"