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The breeze dances across the surface of the endless spring-warmed meadows of Route 38. It whistles as it passes through the pine trees surrounding him, abandoned spinarak webs aloft like flags tied to branches. The only other noise he can hear is soft cries of woodland Pokémon and his own shoes against the soft, needle covered forest floor. His life had been nothing but trouble lately, but peace like this almost lets Silver forget about it.
Almost. It’s been a few months since a flyer with his face had popped up at a Pokémon center or on the side of a Pokémart, but he’s still hesitant to walk on the main road of some of the busier routes of Johto. His newly caught Sneasel trailed behind him as he peeked out of the treeline, red hair falling around his shoulders. It’s empty.
“C’mon.” He says quietly to Sneasel, returning it to it’s dusk ball. Sneasel’s navigational abilities were keen, and it made hiking through the thick forests around Johto a breeze, but telegraphing what may be your only Pokémon’s type is an easy way to be taken off guard in battle.
Moomoo Farm was empty, save for the milktanks. They eyed him with curiosity for a moment, and then continued about lazing and eating grass and whatnot. Pidgey sat along the white picket fence, chirping and preening themselves until Silver got too close. Then, the quiet was broken by tires against dirt.
“Hey, Silver!” Comes a warm voice from behind him. “Need a ride?”
He takes a deep breath again, for a completely different reason.
Silver turns to face him, face scowling in annoyance. “Are you really so inept that, even on a bike, you’re trailing behind me?”
“Owch!” Ethan said with little sincerity. It’s like he doesn’t ever hear the venom in Silver’s voice. “Are you on your way to Olivine?”
“Yes. Goodbye.” Silver turns to keep walking. Why does he insist on wasting my time?
Ethan unsurprisingly follows him, bike rolling, and looks down at the large hill cascading down in front of the two trainers. Olivine waits at it’s base, maritime flags fluttering distantly in the wind.
“I wonder how fast you could bike down this hill.” Ethan says to no one in particular. The breeze from the ocean racing up the hill almost catches and steals away his hat.
“Didn’t I just say goodbye?” Silver scoffs. “Find out, if you have a death wish.”
“Do you have a bike, Silver? I only ever see you walking.”
“No.”
Silver is suddenly aware how badly his legs ache and how walking down this hill will be exhausting. Maybe walking from Alph to Olivine wasn’t a good idea after all, but here’s no helping the fact he doesn’t have time to waste.
“I don’t need one.” It’s a lie. Confessing that he’s stolen half his meals recently and couldn’t afford a bike unless someone leaves theirs unlocked and unattended was not going to make this exchange any easier.
Ethan frowns at that. The look doesn’t suit him, Silver decides in the back of his mind.
“Well…” The young trainer looks down at his own bike, and then that upbeat smile comes back as quickly as it left. “How about you ride with me, then? This bikes meant for adults, so there should be room. You can hold onto me!”
A thousand questions run through Silver’s mind. He meant to reject him outright, immediately, but for some reason the first thing he can bring himself to say is a skeptical, “Wouldn’t that be… heavy?”
“Nope. I’m pretty strong.” The Pokéathlon up-and-comer answers with a shrug.
Okay, sure. Reject him now. Say no. Walk off. You can make it there yourself.
The rational part of his brain screams as he fails to voice any of that and stares down at the bike. His feet hurt. The gym closes in another hour, at dusk- he can only guess, the screen on his dinky first generation Pokégear broke earlier today so he can’t even check.
The same part of him that thought Ethan’s face deserves a smile also tells him to go ahead and hop on, but he can’t figure out exactly why.
He only realizes how quiet it is when Ethan nudges up the clunky, dusty kickstand, and the chain of his bike clicks-clicks-clicks as he rolls it forward. Just a step. He’s looking out over the coast, the darkening sunset starting to dye the hill a warm gold. Without thinking, and assuming he’s about to run off, Silver stammers out a sharp, “Wait!”
“Ready?” Ethan asks him, smile audible in his voice. He quickly tucks his hat into his sling backpack.
“Shouldn’t we wear… helmets?” Silver asks uncharacteristically meek. He remembers a stern talking to about this from his father a long, long time ago- back when the old man gave a shit about his material wellbeing. Giovanni only made this clear after he saw another silver-spooned kid show up to a gala in a cast. As if he’d ever had the chance to ride a bike.
“Well… Yeah.” Ethan laughs. “Sorry. Don’t tell my mom, alright? Hold on tight.”
Hold on?
As the bike starts to move, he realizes what Ethan means. Silver lurches forward and only manages to steady himself by clinging to Ethan’s back. God, this was a mistake. He is only more certain of that fact as they start to speed up, and the ground beneath them starts to slope downwards.
“You bike like a maniac!” The passerby boy shouts into Ethan’s ear over the wind around them. “You’re insane!”
Silver can feel his long hair sting against his face, and he has to shut his eyes, but if he had them open he’d see the pine trees that he had been trudging through all afternoon soaring past them in a green blur.
“Thanks!” He can feel Ethan laugh breathlessly under his touch. How on earth does he enjoy this? He’s starting to wish he knew Ethan’s mom. A sudden bump and a split second of airtime almost makes Silver lose his grip on the other trainer, so he wordlessly loops his arms around Ethan’s waist. Out of necessity.
They finally reach the bottom of the hill, after what feels like a frightening eternity. He stops squeezing the hell out of Ethan long enough to realize he was squeezing him in the first place, and mutters something like an apology. Ethan doesn’t seem to mind, glancing back and asking if he had fun, to which Silver shakes his head in a defiant no.
They’ve slowed down, but Ethan doesn’t stop. They pass under the ribbons of flags lining the streets, white picket fences lining every alleyway, the sound of the beach growing closer and closer. The change in elevation means that Olivine is already hiding below the sunset, air turning cool.
“Weren’t you going to the gym?” Silver says, glancing back at the recognizable league building growing smaller behind them as they pedal down main street with it’s bright windows and polished sign.
“Huh? No. I’m going to the lighthouse. Want me to drop you off?” He calls back, eyes ahead.
Silver doesn’t answer.
They pass some vacation homes and a hotel and a sleepy café and the city’s Pokémon Center. Despite appearances, Ethan’s pretty careful around pedestrians, and thank Arceus for that because Silver doesn’t need another reason to avoid the police.
He wants to bite back, say something rude enough to get Ethan to finally lose his patience and kick him off the bike and leave him there on the boardwalk. He wants to trudge off into the sandy woods lining this city, fists balled, and fall asleep leaning on a cold tree trunk. Alone.
He doesn’t. He sees Ethan glance back at him once or twice, waiting for a sharp reply that doesn’t come
“It’s real pretty.” Silver can hear a hint of country drawl in Ethan’s drowsy voice.
“Don’t do that again without a helmet. It’s stupid of you.” Silver demands from a few feet away, deciding Elm’s star field researcher was getting a little too comfortable around him. What were the two of them even thinking?
“I don’t have a helmet…” Ethan replies, startled.
“Buy one.” He bites back. “What, are you too busy pulling dumb stunts like that to win a couple battles?”
“It was fun, though. C’mon, you were smiling.” It was dark up in the lighthouse, but Silver can still see the hand Ethan’s chin was resting on curls up against his cheek as he grins.
He does not remember smiling.
“Humph. Won’t be very fun if you get hurt.” Silver crosses his arms and leans against the slightly rusty support pillar of the observation room, the peeling paint and steel cold against his back. “Whatever, just…” He has to take a breath. “I don’t have the patience to educate you. Buy one tomorrow or something. There’s no point if you kick the bucket before I can beat you.”
“Gotcha.” Ethan says after a moment, turning back to the window. “We’re rivals after all.”
“Rivals?” Silver echoes with a suspicious look.
“Aren’t we?” Ethan's hand falls in something close to surprise or disappointment. Or reconsideration.
“That’s because you keep getting in my way and showing up when I don’t need you to.” Silver spits. “I can’t imagine myself being true rivals with someone so weak.”
Ethan once again smiles in the face of an insult. “C’mon! I’m not gettin’ in your way. I think we’re more similar than you’d like to admit.”
“So you agree you’re weak?” Silver grins back harshly and ignores that last bit about being similar. If he lets himself get provoked, he’ll start thinking that it might be true.
“That’s not the point, either! Jeez…”
Independence is strength. He had worked so hard for it, and was under no obligation to stay here.
He could leave now, redouble his efforts and never come into contact with Ethan again.
He could destroy him once he reaches the league, and take down an already rotten organization by himself.
He could prove to his father that he doesn’t need anyone to be strong. That doing all of this alone is what makes him strong. Alone.
Why does he have to keep reminding himself?
And even still, he looks to his side. Ethan’s Chinchou (he’s never seen it before, so it must be new) happily floats in the dark room as the last rays of light fade behind the horizon, it’s lure bouncing off the defunct controls and metal, pale yellow light illuminating the two of them. They’re the last people in Olivine to watch the sunset. His… ‘rival’ pouts into the aging glass of the observation room, blinking down at the flickering lights of another sleepy beachside get together of tourists, hundreds of feet below.
“Stop pouting. I’ll be your rival, or whatever.”
“What!? I mean… great!” And he’s back to smiling. Good.
He doesn’t know why he agrees. He doesn’t know why he hopped on Ethan’s bike and held on so tight. He doesn’t know why he didn’t demand a battle them moment they saw each other, crush him like he’s been preparing to. He doesn’t understand why he’s betraying himself and letting himself be tethered down by someone so weak, again.
He can’t understand why Ethan takes his hand, and he can’t understand why he doesn’t take push him away.
“From here on out, let’s both do our best to become stronger together!”
His thoughts and heart race as he looks down at their hands, together.
“Try and keep up.” Silver replies, typical words in an atypically quiet voice, hoping that what feels inside isn’t written on his face. Considering he can’t explain it to himself, it’s better for it to never come up at all.