Work Text:
Trees and houses blur together. The train chugga-chuks on and on, turns the scenery into a blurred amalgamation. Hop grins, taps his toes against Victor's shin. Victor makes a questioning sound, like Hm? and Hop grins even wider, feels his cheeks crinkle the corners of his eyes. “I can't wait,” he says. “Our very own journey. Who woulda thought, huh?”
Victor's got his arm pressed against Gloria's. Sides touching, heads close together. They're watching a video on Gloria's phone. Gloria looks up at Hop's words, hums in agreement. Victor smiles, soft cotton and candy-sweet caramels. “It was certainly unexpected, to be given Pokémon by the champion himself. Even more so when the professor talked Leon into endorsing you two. Rookie trainers and you already get to take on the world. Exciting, huh?” Exciting, huh? would sound sarcasting coming from anyone else, but Victor's always been too nice for his own good.
Gloria puts her phone down, taps her fingers against the table separating Hop from them. Clackclackclack. “We're gonna rock the gym challenge,” she says. Makes Hop laugh, Victor's smile benign. Victor wraps his arm around her shoulder and prods her cheek with his finger. Mirth in his eyes and he teases her, moving the finger pressed against her cheek in a circle, “Always the optimist, dear cousin.”
Gloria grins back. Doesn't mind their sudden closeness, bodies seemingly melding together. Never has. “Oh, you know me. Always gotta look on the bright side. Glass half full, buttered toast falling on the dry side. Stuff like that.”
Hop laughs, arms crossed behind his neck. He melts deeper into the cushion of the train's seat, king on his throne. Champion on his throne.
Gloria grins at him, proud at tickling a laugh out of him.
Victor turns to look at her, lips accidentally brushing against her chin. She rubs his spit off, disgusted look taking over her face. “Hey, be careful where you put that mouth,” she says. Grinning at her reaction, Victor puts his hands on her cheeks and turns her head toward him. Kisses both of her cheeks, first the right, then the left. Gloria bats his hands away. “Eww, seriously. I'm gonna kick your ass.”
“You won't,” Victor says, entirely too smug.
Gloria huffs, but there's a smile on her face as she pokes Victor's forehead. “Jury's still out.”
Hop grins. At them, their easy banter. Can't relate since Lee always spoiled him a little too much, but he supposes that's what happens when your close relative's the same age as yourself.
Maybe he's jealous. Just a teeny tiny bit. Maybe, if Lee had been more present, had challenged Hop much earlier, before Champion duties consumed the other side of his previous life entirely, Hop would be stronger. Better. Might be, could be, all possibility-words Hop still longs for, even if that would have resulted into having started his journey without Gloria and Victor.
Well, he thinks. It is what it is. No use in dwelling on what-ifs.
(He tells himself.)
Forest-smell. Spring and fall and even winter, all laid out before him in a single area. Having camped out in the Great Wild for about a week, he still isn't used to it. Not the noises of nocturnal Pokémon that he found out are quite soothing, nor the plethora of Pokémon, wild and cute and strong, just waiting to be caught by Hop. To accompany him on his journey, keep him company, work with him to get stronger and stronger. Strong enough to over-shadow them, over-shadow them all, oh, isn't he just the best? Isn't he just the strongest? Isn't he even better than his older brother?
To conquer his final foe, strongest hurdle. Show his brother he's worth something, after all.
(Maybe then he'll finally look at Hop. Really, truly look at him.)
Following a beaten down trail, grass and flowers barely lining up beside the path, toward a spot that seems rural even for the wilderness of the area, he runs into them.
Gloria, leaning back on a tree trunk, laughing at something Victor said. Spoon in hand, bowl of curry balanced on her knees. She pushes the hollow side of her spoon against Victor's nose. He merely grabs the spoon with thumb and pointer, nabs the spoon out of her hand. He deposits the spoon carelessly into her bowl. Some drops stain her dress. She looks like she's about to retaliate, most likely grab for his own bowl and empty it above his head.
Hop hurries toward them, grin already stretching his cheeks.
“Guys! How've you been? Your first week in the Great Wild treating you well?”
They turn their heads toward him. Victor's already smiling softly while Gloria nods, head up-down, up-down. Hop folds his arms behind his neck, crosses his feet at the ankles. “I hope you caught a lot of Pokémon,” he says, meaning, as well. Hopes, despite himself, at least a little bit, that they caught less than him.
Gloria nods her head toward their tent, and Hop takes a look inside. A heap of Pokémon, cuddled up in a cute pile in the sleeping bag, a single blanket covering some parts of their fur and feathers and skin. Their two starters, adorable little Toxel. Victor's Nickit and Gloria's Rookidee that they caught back on Route 1. And, of course-
“Holy. Shit. You caught Appli?!”
Victor laughs at his reaction. “They're quite cute, aren't they?”
“They're quite rare is what they are. How did you even get them?”
Gloria waves his reaction off. “Divine intervention.”
Hop scoffs at her declaration. “You're just being overachievers.”
“Actually,” Victor intervenes, always the peace-keeper, “Gloria tried to climb a berry tree and shook off those two while reaching for a higher branch. She soon followed, of course. Landed right on her ass.”
Gloria punches his shoulder. “Traitor,” she hisses. Hop laughs at their antics.
They offer him a bowl of their curry, but he declines, says he already had lunch and wants to train some more before night falls.
Only as he's already walked for ten minutes does he realize—
There was only one sleeping bag inside the tent.
A single one. Only one blanket, too.
He shrugs it off. Thinks, maybe one got dirty, or is busted, or they forgot it. Spilled curry or ripped seams or air-headed Gloria, all viable possibilities. Can easily imagine their sleeping arrangement, Gloria hogging most of the blanket, Victor left shivering in the cold of the night. Laughs at the thought, and Willy, his trusty Wooloo walking beside him, gives him a curious look. He leans down and pets his soft wool. “Those two sure are something, huh?” Willy baas in agreement, leaning into Hop's touch.
Motostoke's amazing. People crowding the streets as far as the eye can see, some of them whistling at Hop, holding up signs with encouragements written on them in colorful handwriting. He waves at them, red creeping up his neck at the attention. Victor nods at a few screaming girls, and Gloria ignores the crowd entirely, instead skips along the path toward the lift that's gonna raise them toward the stadium.
A girl steps in front of Victor, clasping his hand in her own. “You're a gym challenger, aren't you?” She's pretty, all platinum blonde hair and long legs. She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, flutters her lashes and Hop grins, wolf-whistles at Victor. Victor just sighs resignedly, is about to refute her statement, no, he's not, he's just accompanying company, when, standing on her tiptoes, she says, “How about a good luck kiss?” Leans in and—
-—trips,Victor barely evading her stumbling form. She lands on her knees, props herself up on her palms. She cranes her neck toward Victor, looks at him all angry and with indignant eyes. “Why didn’t you catch me?” she bristles, and Victor shrugs his shoulders.
“Instinct?” he offers, and the girl huffs, carefully stands up. She inspects her hands, gasps when she sees the indents left behind by pebbles.
Victor stares at the stadium, and Gloria's whipping back and forth on her heels and toes, whistling some pop song. The girl looks outraged at their uncaring behavior, and Hop's quick to intervene when the girl is about to poke her finger into Victor's chest. “Hey,” he says, opens his backpack to rummage inside it. “I've got some gauze.” The girl looks at him suspiciously, obviously untrusting of anyone associated with Victor, before she sighs, nodding her consent. She's still pouting. Hop puts the gauze over her hands (the gauze really isn't necessary. Hop knows better than to open his mouth.) and she hisses. Hop rips the gauze apart, fiddles with the end around her hand until it's neatly nestled under the folds of the gauze.
“Thanks,” she says to Hop, then turns toward Victor who's still staring at the stadium. She grins at him, mean and wide, and says, “I hope you lose at the first gym. Asshole.” She turns around, stalks away from them with her head held high, hair like a bright halo around her head. Not staying long enough for Victor to correct her assumption.
Gloria's not even hiding her laugh, loud and boisterous. Maybe it's just Hop's imagination, but he thinks he saw her saluting the girl's back. But it's over so soon, Hop chalks it up to Gloria being indignant for her cousin.
Her hair's gotten longer, is the thing. Still the side swept bangs but she's got her hair up in a ponytail, now. Wears something different as well; trademark pink dress gone for sleek black jeans shorts, a poison-themed hoodie. The hair's held together with a poison themed scrunchie as well. She did always adore her Toxel's secondary type.
She doesn't look like Gloria. Not really. Not like the version he knew so well—small and fierce yet childish, a kid in a teenager's body. Pranks and boisterous laughter, Postwick's very own gremlin of mischief.
Now she's different. More mature. Looks almost—like a woman, and not a teenager. Certainly not a child. He knows they're all seventeen, going on eighteen, but he never expected Gloria to be the first one to grow out of their child-bodies.
She blows a strand of hair out of her face as she faces him, cocky grin and cherish ball in her hand. Face not framed by hair she seems even more dangerous, a greater foe than before.
An adult, rather than another kid. Hop balls his right hand into a fist, spirit ripe with determination as he unclips Willy's friend ball from his belt with his free hand, fingers tightly curled around it. This time, this time, this time.
(Same hair, same clothes, and he feels like he hasn't changed at all.)
He's not very surprised when he loses. Has fought her four times by now, and this makes the fifth loss. Getting used to it doesn't make it easier, but somehow, he can't even feel the devastation, not as he watches Gloria bound toward Victor. Victor, the same old hat but also the same hoodie as Gloria, catches her in a hug. He can hear their laughter, even as he stares at the poké ball in his hand. Gloria intends to whisper, he's sure, but Hop can still hear her say, “I deserve a treat, don't I?” and Victor's answering, “What are you, a Rockruff?”
Gym after gym he overcame yet this is an obstacle unfathomable, a giant ready to swallow him whole. Pity-party starts in his mind and he puts a sleeve over his eyes to hide the prickling tears from happy-go-lucky Gloria and Victor. Not that'd they realize, tightly wrapped up in each other as they are.
Salad Curry for dinner?
I'd prefer something spicy.
He's chasing Gloria's shadow. It's not very fun. Not like everyone said it'd be; win or lose or stalemate, the gym challenge's supposed to be fun. Gloria is your true rival, isn't she? Lee said, yet he doesn't feel like her true rival.
Maybe he's just a pebble stuck between the studs of her shoes.
“Mate,” Hop ambushes Victor during one of the rare times the cousins aren't attached at the hip. Maybe it's underhanded, to catch him when Gloria's using the restroom, but desperate times call for desperate measures. This isn't something he can talk about with Gloria; not with every battle under her belt being a win, the only time she lost being the time they ran into each other in Mototostoke for the third badge. He challenged her to a battle right after her battle with Kabu, right before his own, her only healthy Pokémon being her Toxel. It was mean, and cruel, and all those terrible words, but she insisted it was okay, that it would be a good time to try relying on a single Pokémon, training for when she would face the Elite Four.
When, not if, and maybe that's why he agreed to the battle, what threw him off-center. Why he won, even, how enraged he was because of her unintentional declaration.
Destroyed her Toxel easily enough, and Gloria only had a contemplative look on her face as she shook Hop's hand, telling him, “Good fight. You did well.”
—he didn't tell her. Especially not, considering you only had your trusted Toxel. She only had a baby Pokémon to rely on. He had two in their second evolution forms. It was unfair, and despite that, he clung to it desperately, that single loss meaning nothing to Gloria, nothing at all, but the win reassured him despite everything, that he could still do it, that he only had to work harder, train harder, study strategies harder.
(A feeble attempt to convince himself. He never was very good at it.)
“About what?” Victor says, casually leaning against the brick wall beside the door to the public restroom. Knee bent and one sole of his shoe’s firmly pressed against the wall. Doesn't seem to have a care in the world, if it wasn't for the hurried looks he gave the restroom's door. Hop smiles, despite himself, feeling that his friend already knows he wants to keep this confidential between the two of them. That he's on lookout for Gloria.
“You ever get the feeling that you're dragging down Gloria's good name and all?”
Victor looks at him, scrutinizes his face for a hint of a joke, Sighs when he realizes Hop is completely serious about this. He crosses his arms, taps his index against his upper arm. “Well,” he says, “not necessarily? You mean because I'm not participating in the gym challenge, right?” He shrugs at Hop's eager nod. “I mean, I always knew Gloria had an affinity for Pokémon battles that I don't have, not with the way she devoured everything related to battling. It's not really a surprise, y'know?”
“But,” Hop swallows, hard, continues, “don't you ever feel inferior?” At that, Victor looks at him really hard, hard enough that Hop wants to crawl into a ditch. Forces himself to return Victor's stare, and Victor pushes a wayward strand that broke free from under his hat back behind his ear.
“I don't need to ask you what this is really about, do I?” Hop rapidly shakes his head, and Victor sighs again. Seemingly melts against the brick wall as he says, “I don't. Not really. Sure, she's superior to me in that aspect, but contrary to her, I'm better at strategizing. Serving our Pokémon healthy food, too. Keeping them in top shape. So partly, whenever she wins a battle, I kind of feel like I helped her. That's an accomplishment too, you know? Maybe a twisted one, but whatever. Mostly I just don't like the attention she gets. But I don't feel inferior, not at all. Everyone excels in different aspects. Leon's talent lies in brute strength, pressing forward even in the most desperate battles. Personally, I just think you need to find your own way to battle, instead of copying your brother.”
Hop flushes, feels the hairs on his neck prickle. Can't believe Victor just said that—no, he’s not copying Lee, he just—he just wants to become Champion like him, but he isn't—he doesn't copy him!... Does he?
Before he can ask Victor to elaborate, Gloria exits the restroom, sprinkles residue water from her fingers against Victor's face. He sighs as he wipes it off with his sleeve, suddenly old enough to have a foot in the coffin. Forever suffering at the hands of his mischievous cousin. Gloria grins at his reaction and throws an arm over his shoulder, finally looks at Hop. Raises one questioning eyebrow. Hop rubs his neck with one palm. “Uh, I'm just—I'm gonna—Í'm going to, uh, to—” turns around before Gloria can call out his suspicious behavior. Would probably call him a weirdo under her breath, Victor muffling a soft laugh at her statement.
He thinks it over. Long and hard until his head feels like it’s split apart by a Wood Hammer.
Change strategies. Grow into your own. He’s trying, okay. Really, he is.
Maybe Victor's right. Maybe he’s just chasing Lee’s shadow, running until the soles of his feet are chafed by the hot coals made of expectations in his own mind.
He’ll try harder. He has to. He
.
Raihan is ruthless. Seemingly finds every opening in Hop's strategy, is one step ahead where Hop's still thinking of the last, and yet, through sheer determination, through sheer trust in his Pokémon, they win. It may not be the brute strength Lee has, nor Gloria's raw talent, but it's his own style, and when Raihan's dynamaxed Pokémon faints by a fatal attack from Willy, Hop cheers loudly, pumps a fist into the air. Looks at the spectator stands and sees them right there at the very front: Victor and Gloria, hugging tightly. They wave at him when they see him look at them.
Shout at him, too, and albeit he can't hear them over the cheering crowd, he shouts back, shouts thank you and i love you and you're my best friends in the whole entire world because despite everything, despite his slump after every single loss against Gloria, he'd never have gotten where he is now without her. Desperation and blood and tears and even if Gloria may have caused them, she forced him to never give up as well. So in a sense, despite her already having beaten Raihan, Hop's win is hers, too.
So partly, whenever she wins a battle, I kind of feel like I helped her, and despite them being entirely different situations, Hop finally understands Victor's words.
You can't win on your own. You need your Pokémon, your friends and yes—even your rivals. Because who's gonna cause you to strive to be better and better and stronger and stronger if not them?
He waves at Gloria and mouths, thanks. Victor as well. Find your own style, and he finally did. At long last, he feels content.
He's come so far, he thinks. Came into his own. Tried strategy after tragedy and switched out Pokémon one after another, much as it pained him, but finally, at long last, he's grown into his own.
It’s still not enough.
Yet despite everything, he feels content. It was a good battle. And for the first time, Gloria’s happy smile doesn’t look degrading.
He shakes her hand. Says, good battle, and, you were great, and, thanks.
And Gloria grabs his hand tight and says, “I couldn’t have done it without you” and he feels… happy.
Finally, he can be happy for his friend, his one true rival. No jealousy bursting his heart apart, not even that tiny sliver of hatred due to loss after loss rearing its ugly little head.
Gloria may have bested him, but he gave it his all. And that’s gotta count for something.
It’s over. Truly, finally over. Never thought Lee could be dethroned yet here she is, this one single, young girl, full of potential that unfolded like a beautiful paper crane.
Hop’s never seen her this kind of happy before. Not the way she looks when she teases Victor, or challenges Hop to an eating contest.
Victor’s quick to storm the battleground, and of course the league workers let him; stories of the close cousins having been told over and over again the closer Gloria got to the championship. So sweet, so nice, and they set a new kind of familial standard that Hop envied. He was that close to Lee as well, as close as Victor and Gloria were, but he supposes the age difference causes it from being perceived.
Gloria throws herself at Victor, utter glee on her face. Victor twirls her around and Gloria laughs happily, grins wide and victorious when he lets her down. She cocks her head and leans in real close and for one heart-stopping, horrible moment, Hop has a terrible thought—because—
Because—
That almost looked like she was leaning in for a kiss. And suddenly, having not realized, ignored, or just gotten so used to it over the years, so wrapped up in his own devastation, his own determination, his own journey, he never spared a thought on their shared one—
No.
No.
Stupid. Ridiculous. She just whispered into his ear, so close because Victor wouldn't be able to hear her over the cheering crowd.
(And yet, still, Hop wonders.)
It's in the Wild Area, funnily enough, and Hop can't believe how daring, how stupid they are. Almost a bad omen that he finds them there, not unlike all those months ago, the single sleeping back finally making sense. It clicks, and he feels like an idiot, can't believe he didn't—didn't realize before, the puzzle pieces he unconsciously collected over the months finally fitting together.
The accidental brush of lips on skin on the train. The single sleeping back. The way Victor looked at Gloria all wistful and almost jealous when Hop asked him whether he envied Gloria for getting all the attention.
That almost-kiss at the championship.
Can't believe it took him so long to see, both metaphorically and literally. Drew the zipper down the tent and is confronted with—this, this horrible, terrible image, like someone up above is punishing Hop for not knowing, for only thinking of himself when they're his closest friends, his trusted companions. Always told them everything, every single little thing about himself, benign as it might have been. Yet they never confided in him with—this. Whatever this is. This big, glaring thing.
(Maybe they didn’t want to burden him with this, too, since he was already so lost within himself, trying to be his brother.)
Feels betrayed. Wonders if he knew them at all, at least since they all hit puberty, knobby knees and apple cheeks gone for long legs and pointed chins. A Secret he wasn't allowed to be privy to, and it's like a silver knife straight through the heart.
He stares with empty eyes. Gloria's hastily putting on her bra, pulls up her— Arceus—underwear while Victor zips up his pants. Their hats are askew and distantly, Hop wonders why they kept them on. He turns around. Bends his knee as he takes off in a hurry, ignoring the desperate cries of his name behind him.
Props himself up on his knees when he reaches the train station. Wipes his sweaty chin with his sleeve, tries to inhale slowly so as to not get dizzy.
So much about a journey for three. Seems it was always a two plus one thing, after all.
Feeling tears prickle at his eyes, he sobs once. Just the one time. Then he wipes his eyes, inhales deeply, and enters the train station. The Slumbering Weald sounds good right about now. To scream, to let out these horrible, jealous feelings, to figure out what, exactly, he's going to do with this information. He could tell. Tell their parents, tell Lee—hell, tell the press, the newly crowned champion screwing her own cousin. Would be some breaking news for sure.
(Finally get revenge for all the losses Gloria’s dealt him, the terrible feelings she invoked in him.)
Yet he doesn't want to. Wants to understand.
He doesn't know if their friendship will survive this. But he'll try, for them, like they never did for him. Not when it came to this.
Yet still—they're his friends. His family.
And he loves them, dirty secret or no.
(He just needs—time.)
