Work Text:
It’s Just a Crush
She leans her head against the window, taking in the view of Mt. Silver.
The passenger besides her raves how Lugia Air is one of the best airlines she’s been on, as Unova is notorious for terrible airlines, but Dawn is lost in her own thoughts of the Pokémon World Tournament Junior Cup.
Though it was so nice to see Ash after so long and participate in competitive Pokémon battling, she’s ready to start training for the Johto Wallace Cup. She and her team have been working extra hard, but it’s been a while since she last competed in contests, since she was focusing on fashion and battling in Unova.
It also doesn’t help that Paul is not around to train regularly with her like he always would in Hoenn. The thought oddly makes her feel hollow.
Whatever the case be, he is off again on his own journey, and she is off on hers.
.
Dawn's time in Johto starts off well, as she enjoys her time traveling with May and Drew, until she loses a contest.
And then another contest.
And then another.
And then a streak forms.
Dawn is able to hold herself well, in spite of the many losses. Not a tear, not a sense of hopelessness. She does not even cry when she wakes up one morning to Piplup pecking her gently, and mistakes him for Paul’s Torchic. Only disappointment, followed by determination to win the next one. She’s more upset when they watch Ash lose the Unova League on TV than at her own contest losses.
Even as they’re approaching the Wallace Cup and Johto Grand Festival, with Dawn’s window to win five ribbons starting to close, she seems unwavering, and May is almost envious of her resilience.
But May doesn’t realize that it all has just been Dawn acting as a machine on autopilot, until one day, for a brief few hours, it finally shows.
And it is triggered by something she could have never expected.
The day before the Wallace Cup, Dawn searches for her mother’s ribbon to show to May and Drew inside her backpack. When her fingers touch ribbon and metal, her fingers curl around the ribbon and she pulls it out with a flash.
Her smile falters, however, when she sees it is actually the Rubello Town Pokémon Contest ribbon.
She stares at it blankly, her hand beginning to curl tighter and tighter around the ribbon, until it disappears into her fist.
“Dawn.” Drew’s voice is full of alarm, causing her head to snap back up to him. “You’re crying?”
Dawn blinks in confusion, and realizes that her eyes are indeed watery. But she shakes her head and immediately wipes a stray tear. “No need to worry,” is her instant reply, but it is devoid of her usual enthusiasm and smile.
“Dawn - ”
“I need to run an errand,” she quickly mumbles, arising from the bed.
May and Drew give each other a look of concern as leaves their Pokémon Center room, Piplup struggling to follow her.
.
Dawn’s mindless stroll in the monsoon brings her and Piplup into a local store called “Just a Souvenir Shop Now.” If her mind wasn’t so numb, she might notice how the last word has been painted on as an addendum.
Ignoring the greeting of an elderly lady, her boots, squeaky from the pouring rain, once more walk on their own accord, until she comes in front of a shelf. She feels the blood drain from her already cold cheeks as she stares at the handwritten sign tacked on with tape.
Special! Buy 1 Get 1 50% Off
She feels herself about to sway, but steadies herself when she is reminded that she won’t be the only one to hit the ground.
“Pip, piplup?” Piplup, drenched and wrapped in her arms, nods questioningly at the shelf.
“N-No, Piplup,” she whispers hoarsely, feeling some bit of emotion returning to her for the first time since she found the Rubello Town ribbon. “I can’t buy any.” She holds her companion in her arms a little tighter and rests her cheek on the top of his head, feeling feverish from the weather, perhaps.
“Hey, Dawn!”
Dawn lifts her head from Piplup and turns around to see May and Drew at the entrance of the shop.
“Why’d you run off like that without saying anything?” Drew scolds, holding up her raincoat, but upon looking at the broken look on Dawn’s face, his anger softens. “We were worried about you.”
Dawn pushes back a strand of wet hair sticking to her cheek. “Sorry.” Her voice is small, and it makes Drew straighten up in worry. May, too, raises her eyebrows in concern. “I was feeling suffocated and just needed some fresh air.”
The ribbon, still clutched inside her left fist, stabs at her skin in protest.
May forces a smile on her face, for Dawn’s sake, and helps her friend into her raincoat. It is hard not to feel pity on Dawn, as she has lost every contest she’s competed in during the Johto circuit this season, but there’s no need to discourage Dawn. “You know what would help? Practicing for the Wallace Cup by the springs on Route 44!”
Dawn shifts awkwardly from one foot to another, looking down and tugging at the edge of her coat. “I’m not participating. I can’t.”
“Pip, lup?” Piplup cries, looking up at his trainer in surprise.
Drew and May exchange a shocked glance, before both turn their heads back to Dawn, speaking at the same time.
“You want to forfeit the contest?”
“You’re just going to give up like that?”
Dawn, her eyes still on the ground, mumbles something, but the only word Drew is able to make out of the sentence is “Hoenn.”
And that’s when it clicks in his head.
For the past hour, he and May were concerned that their friend was at her breaking point from the continuous contest losses. But it appears that this might not be the sole reason for her sudden catatonia. He thinks back to Dawn’s trigger - that green-striped Pokémon Contest Ribbon, similar to the one he won from Rubello Town in his first Hoenn Circuit. Was that from the Rubello Town Contest she and Paul competed in?
“Mew, so that’s what this has been about?” he realizes, with a sarcastic edge in his voice. “You’re just missing Paul?”
May is puzzled by Drew’s conclusion. “Wait, you miss Paul? But why?”
Drew, however, is unsurprised by her astonishment and shakes his head. “I know your head’s a little thick, but this about it, June.”
May huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “If you know so well, what is it then?” she snaps.
Drew gives her a pointed look, and Dawn panics as she sees May’s mouth drop open in a realization.
“My contest battling.” Her voice is thick, but she had to quickly answer to distract May from the silent idea Drew planted in her mind. “My skills aren’t the same without training with Paul.” Quietly, she slips the ribbon into her pocket.
May stares at her in disbelief, but Dawn doesn’t seem to catch it. Drew watches their exchange silently.
“It was just about battling?”
Dawn nods slowly. It’s a lie, and May can see right through it.
“Come on, you two.” Drew tugs on both of their arms lightly, not wanting to press and trigger Dawn any further in public. “We can talk about this back at the Pokémon Center. We have to pack for our flight tonight to Cherrygrove City anyway.”
Dawn finally looks up from the ground, but instead of meeting her friends’ concerned stares, she turns her head to the display shelf for a moment, before swallowing thickly and walking out of the store with Drew and May.
She has wallowed in self-pity enough for today. Tomorrow morning, she will put herself back together for her Pokémon and friends’ sake, and soak in every moment with determination, even if Paul isn’t here, even if she loses the Wallace Cup.
To savor the end of her wallowing, however, she stays up to watch the sun rise.
.
Dawn woke up to a soft glow filtering through the thin fabric of her tent. Rubbing her eyes, she wrenched herself upright and pushed aside the flap, before stepping out into the crisp morning air. The sky was painted in hues of pink and orange as the sun began to ascent over the horizon. She couldn't help but smile - there was something magical about watching a Hoenn sunrise.
It didn't take her long, however, to spot Paul a short distance away at the Dewford shoreline, his silhouette outlined against the emerging sunrise.
Dawn hesitated for a moment before approaching where he sat on a nearby rock. As she approached, she noticed a faint furrow in his brow, his posture stiff in tension.
"Morning," she greeted.
Paul glanced at her briefly before returning his attention to the horizon. "Morning," he replied curtly.
Dawn settled down next to him, mirroring his posture as they both watched the sky lighten. There was an awkward silence between them, broken only by the gentle lapping of waves against the shore.
She watched the colors shift and change across the sky for a moment before turning her attention back to Paul. "Couldn't sleep?"
Paul shook his head. "Just thinking."
"About?" Dawn prompted, sensing an opportunity to break through his usual stoicism.
But he did not answer, his gaze fixed on the horizon.
Dawn did not press him, respecting his privacy. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. "You know, my dad always says that watching the sunrise can help clear your mind," she offered tentatively. "Maybe it'll help you feel better."
Paul didn't respond again, but Dawn could tell he was considering her words. She glanced back at the horizon, letting the moment stretch between them.
After a while, Paul finally spoke. “We should ask Mr. Briney to take us to Littleroot Town instead of taking the S.S. Tidal.”
The topic took Dawn by surprise, as it felt like a random deviation from Paul's tense mood. “Um, sure. It will save us some money, too,” she added as an afterthought.
(It would not be until a few years later, during a quiet night they would share in Galar, that Dawn would find out the truth behind Paul’s suggestion and of his relation to Captain Stern of the S.S. Tidal.)
They sat in silence for a while longer. Dawn couldn't help but think back to the last time they had been together at sunrise, right before Paul's battle against Ash in the Sinnoh League. Despite their differences, she had admired his determination and strength during that time.
It felt like a lifetime ago, but somehow, sitting here now, she couldn't shake the feeling that they had come a long way since then.
As the first light of morning shined over them, Dawn couldn't help but feel hopeful for the journey ahead. She didn't know what the future held, but maybe, just maybe, traveling together wouldn't be so bad after all.
.
Finally, he thinks to himself, as he sees the shelves full of RageCandyBars in this seedy souvenir shop.
He flew from his Battle Frontier training at the Dragon’s Den just for this.
Mew, with the ongoing flight delays from the hurricane season, he cashed in on a favor from Clair to get a seat on the Delibird Jet to Mahogany Town, as soon as possible. Paul has never been the type to hold blackmail over someone’s head, but after Clair’s stint of refusing to give Paul a badge until he beat the Dragon’s Den challenge four years ago, she owed him one for not reporting her to the Pokémon Association.
He shakes the rain out of his hair, cursing himself for his impatience to run out without an umbrella. As he reaches to pick up a few bars, he hears Dawn’s sweet giggle in his mind, and recalls when they were in the department store in Hoenn, and she laughed at his reaction to the candy bars being sold out.
Upon returning to his room in the Pokémon Center, without even drying off, he rummages through his bag to fish out the candy he shoved in. But his hands pull out his Unova gym badge case instead. He stares at his reflection in the metallic case - his furrowed brows, the flat shape of his lips, his blank eyes - and unthinkingly flicks it open.
He holds his breath as his eyes immediately flit to a shiny bolt of lightning.
Elesa’s gym badge. A sign of his victory against the gym battle, but also a sign of loss, as he chose to leave Dawn on this day, in fear of her becoming a distraction.
But he is beginning to realize that it wasn’t a distraction he fell into.
For the past six months, he has been on his own, choosing to journey alone after parting ways with Dawn. This should be nothing abnormal for him, as traveling with Dawn was out of the ordinary for him. Yet, the memories of their travels linger in his mind . . .
Choosing isolation over camaraderie was a mistake. He misses the strategic synergy they developed in battles, the unspoken understandings that came from months of journeying together. There is an absence of friendly banter, and an empty space beside him everywhere - the journey has been more challenging, and the victories less sweet without someone to share them with.
In his pursuit of shaking off his companion, isolation truly became the real distraction.
With the last thought echoing in his thoughts, he quickly snaps the case shut and throws it back into his sling bag, surprised to feel his heartbeat quickening.
Trying to shake away these feelings, he reaches for the candy bun, breaks it into pieces, and distributes them amongst his Pokémon.
Only one of his Pokémon hesitates to eat.
Honchkrow’s battling has not wavered since they left Dawn, and his progress has been excellent, but Paul hates to see him look so upset.
“It’s just a crush.” His words to Dawn echo in his mind.
Paul holds his hand with the crushed candy bar out to Honchkrow. “Please eat.”
“Crow,” Honchcrow concedes softly, pecking at Paul’s palm and eating the bits, not as enthusiastically as he once did.
He frowns at his Honchkrow, realizing the Pokémon might be even more . . . struck by Paul’s separation from Dawn than him. With a sigh, he begins patting the top of Honchkrow’s head softly. “I miss them, too.”
His other hand clutches the sheets of his room’s bed, and the memory of Dawn, smiling at him in their room as she offered to share the bed with him, pops into his mind.
It’s been a few months since then. He wondered then, at what stage of their lives would they meet next? How close would they each be to reaching their goals at that point?
But the thought now grips Paul’s heart like a Gyarados’ Bind and it makes him feel so foolish for ever believing this way. Can’t they just support the other while accomplishing their goals? Doesn’t the possibility of staying in each other’s lives exist?
He is not sure, but he’s determined to find out.
With that, resolve forms in his mind as he makes his way out of his room and down to the phone booths to make a call.
“I hope you are well . . . Thank you, I am, too. This is very short notice, but I’ll be in town tomorrow. May I please come visit you? Will you be available?” Relief spreads through his body as he hears the high-pitched voice respond happily. “Yes, morning. Yes, we can do so together. Thank you so much. It may sound odd, but may I ask that you please keep this a secret?”
For the first time in a long while, Paul lets out a soft chuckle. “ . . . yes, you must already know. Thank you. I will see you then.”
End of Safe Travels, Part 3: Past a Lattice-Shaped Palace