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White looked up at the darkening sky above Route 7 with a heavy sigh. Thick, deep grey clouds were swirling ominously overhead, threatening to tear open at any minute and drench the earth with rain. She wished she had thought to bring a raincoat, or at least a jacket with her on her travels, but it had never occurred to her. It was too late now, she supposed. White tugged her pink and white cap tighter over her ears and continued down the path. It wasn’t worth worrying over the rain anyway.
According to her map, she seemed to be halfway between Mistralton City and Twist Mountain, so there really was no point in turning back to find a Pokémon Center. By the time she reached the city it would already be pouring anyway. Maybe if she hadn’t been so hopeless at map reading she would be in Twist Mountain by now, out of the foggy and dreary weather and under the cover of the mountain. But she was almost as inept with directions as Bianca, and Cheren had gone on to Iccirus City a day ago.
“I guess we’re just going to have to figure it out on our own, huh Dewott?” she turned to her starter pokémon, who was faithfully trailing along at her side. Dewott nodded excitedly, and it made her feel a little better about their less than desirable situation. The otter pokémon seemed to have a much more positive outlook on the rain, chattering enthusiastically. Now the mist had condensed to form a light drizzle, and White could already feel her tank top starting to get wet through her vest. “Dewott, do you want to play in the rain?” she figured it couldn’t hurt to let her take advantage of the weather. She was already wet. She was only going to get wetter; the rain had obviously just started. Besides, it wasn’t often that it rained in their region. Dewott jumped and called out a sound of agreement, affectionately nuzzling White’s thigh in a thank you. White smiled at her partner and followed the pokémon as she scurried over to a puddle on the side of the road.
Dewott began to splash around happily, skipping her razor shell across the surface of the puddle and sending a spray of water at her trainer. White giggled and splashed back, almost thankful for the rain. She could hear Cheren’s disapproving voice in her head right now, ‘White, you really shouldn’t take risks like that. You could have gotten sick and lost in Twist Mountain. Honestly, sometimes you’re worse than Bianca.’ She smiled at the thought of her all too serious friend and made a promise to tell him the story after they both got their Freeze Badge, only to get a rise out of him.
She had almost forgotten the clouds’ promise of an oncoming downpour when the sky split open, releasing a heavy torrent of rain. She shrieked in surprise at the sudden sheet of rain. Dewott seemed to think this was exceptionally funny, and only continued to splash her trainer. She could be so devious sometimes.
“Dewott, I think we’re going to need to find cover soon!” White shouted over the sound of the rain. She tugged impatiently at her thick, deep brown ponytail. It was already drenched, and her curly hair had begun to stick to the back of her neck. The road had vacated a while ago, other trainers being smart enough to venture off the path and find a suitable tree to curl up under before the storm started. Dewott got up from where she was rolling around in the puddle and followed White off the path and into the trees. I wish there was a way for me to get out my map without completely ruining it… White thought in dismay. She stepped through a gap in the trees, ducking around branches and scanning the canopy to find a spot with thick enough coverage. Dewott kept up easily, never missing a step, even when the underbrush began to thicken and tangle. Under the trees the rain was more bearable, but White still wanted to try and find a drier spot.
Eventually the trees began to thin, and White realised with much disappointment that they were reaching a clearing. Just my luck. She got ready to turn around and tell Dewott to go back when a flash of green, much brighter than the foliage of any tree, caught her eye. She slowly crept closer to the tree line, never fully stepping out but going far enough to figure out what it was she had seen. There, a little ways away in the center of the clearing, was the familiar figure of her strange rival N. He was crouched down at the edge of a puddle, watching a Tympole splash playfully around in a puddle, much like she and Dewott had been doing earlier. He had a small smile on his face, and his electric blue eyes had a faraway look, like he was recalling a happy memory. He had discarded his white, collared shirt, and the rain seemed to just barely cling to the fabric of his black turtleneck, not really soaking through. It wasn’t fair. At least his long green ponytail seemed wet. How long had he been out here, in the rain? Was he even planning on finding cover? It didn’t look like it. N seemed very absorbed by his thoughts, like he always was. Every time they had battled he had been engulfed in his speculations. White wondered how anyone could think so much about everything. She never thought things through very much. She preferred to run head, right into the thick of it, doing whatever her instincts told her. N was more calculating, more serious.
Should I say something to him? She thought. She wasn’t really sure where she stood with N. All of her journey seemed very straightforward to her. Collect eight badges, defeat the Elite Four, travel to other regions, repeat. That was the plan. It had been the plan from the start, since her childhood. And then all of these 0ther things were thrown into the mix. N would have referred to it as adding another variable to the equation. White didn’t think mathematically like him, so to her it was more of an obstacle. Team Plasma wasn’t supposed to get in her way. But they were stealing other people’s pokémon, and she couldn’t just stand back and allow that to happen. So she found a way to incorporate them into her plan. Collect eight badges, defeat the Elite Four, defeat Team Plasma along the way, then travel to other regions, repeat. It had been done before. She had grown up on the stories of Red and Green from the Kanto region, and Gold and Silver from the Johto region, taking down Team Rocket. Surely she and her friends could do the same.
But then N came along and made things even more difficult. She had thought they could be friends, at first. He seemed nice enough. A little strange, but he was kind and there was just something about him, like he was different. He seemed lost, almost, and White had felt protective of the awkward teen that cared so deeply for his pokémon when they first met. New friends were great! All of that had changed that day on the ferriswheel, however. N was the king of Team Plasma, her enemy, so why did he seem like such a little threat? What even are we? White wondered. They weren’t exactly friends, but they weren’t enemies either. Rivals wasn’t quite the correct term, seeing as their goals were very different. They weren’t in competition with each other like her and Cheren. Not having a solid definition for their relationship bothered her. She hated feeling like she didn’t know what she was doing. She may not have thought in formulas and variables like N, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like it when all the pieces didn’t fit. He required all of these new steps to be added to her previously straightforward plan. Befriend N. Defeat N. Understand N. Surely there was no way she could do all three?
I have no idea what to do, she realised. Should I say something to him? Isn’t he worried about the rain? Dewott tugged impatiently at the pocket of her shorts, and when White turned to her pokémon she saw that a scowl was visible on the otter’s face. She was obviously tired of standing there, waiting for her trainer to give some sort of direction. Dewott had a tendency to get irritated when White thought for too long about anything. They were alike in that way, preferring action over musings. White turned back to the clearing where N had been playing with his Tympole, only to realise that the green-haired teen had spotted her, and was now gazing curiously in her direction. She squeaked in surprise.
“Hello, White,” N said with a smile. It looked almost out of place, his expression uncharacteristically bright for the gloomy weather. He seemed completely at ease, surrounded by nature. “What are you doing here? Did you come to play in the rain? Tympole just loves it when the weather gets like this.” He spoke with the delighted tone of a child, hands jittering at his sides and eyes sparking with life. His enthusiasm brought an equally bright grin to White’s face. How is it that the king of my greatest enemy is such a kind and harmless person? It just didn’t make sense to her.
“Oh, actually Dewott and I were just doing that!” she exclaimed, a little too loud and with a little too much animation. She cringed at her voice. Why do I always have to get so awkward around him? “But then it really started to pour, and we wanted to find shelter so I wouldn’t get sick.” She didn’t miss how N’s eyes lit up at the mention of her playing with Dewott, and how his smiled widened further when he noticed that Dewott was not in her pokéball, instead standing beside the trainer.
“Hello, Dewott,” N said to her pokémon, stepping forward to give her an affectionate pat. Dewott made an appreciative noise, leaning into the touch. White’s pokémon had always liked N. She almost felt guilty battling him, she could tell their pokémon got along well and didn’t want to fight. “Oh, that sounds fun,” N laughed at something Dewott had said, and White just stood there in amazement. She still couldn’t get over the fact that N, a human being, was perfectly capable of holding a conversation with pokémon.
“What’s so funny?” she asked curiously, looking down at the two and waiting for some sort of answer. N turned from his conversation with Dewott and stood to face White.
“She was just telling me about how you two were playing earlier,” N explained. “It is still a mystery to me, that you imprison your friends in those awful contraptions you call pokéballs, and force them to battle for your personal glory, and yet they still trust and love you.” Dewott seemed to make a noise of denial at her feet, and it made White swell with pride.
It was the talk like this that reminded White of their confusing and less than fortunate situation. As much as she wanted to like N, to feel like she was allowed to like N, his assumptions about her relationship with her pokémon still managed to tick her off every time. He was wrong. She wasn’t imprisoning them, and she didn’t force them to battle. They shared that goal. Every time they got a new badge the glory of the victory and the happiness that came with it was mutual. Battles exhausted her just as much as her pokémon because they put equal amounts of effort into them. Because that’s what they were: equals.
“N, you know that’s not true,” White protested, “but do we really have to talk about that now?” N became confused at this, not understanding what was wrong with where their conversation was headed. “I don’t feel like arguing,” she elaborated, “and it’s cold and rainy and it’s not worth it to fight right now. Our pokémon don’t need the exhaustion. Not with Twist Mountain being up ahead and all.”
It was talk like this that confused N. It was clear that White cared deeply for her pokémon, and it was clear that they returned the sentiment. But they were held captive, trapped inside their balls and used for battling. They shouldn’t care about her as much as they did. It went against everything Ghetsis and the Plasma Sages had ever told him. For N, this was the extra variable. The outlier on the graph. It was the one exception to the function, and he could not figure out why the output didn’t match the input or follow the function rule. N was a scientist, a mathematician, a thinker, and when his equations had extraneous solutions it drove him crazy. White was the extraneous solution. Even though all of his math checked out, when you plug the answer back into the equation it doesn’t work, and there is no logical explanation.
“Okay… so if not that, what is a suitable topic of discussion?” N asked. White looked at him funnily before letting out a small chuckle. “What, did I say something wrong?” N looked alarmed, and White had to rush to reassure him that no, nothing was wrong, and that she was just being stupid. N shook his head, still not understanding. White just found his serious and formal way of speaking to be interesting, and maybe kind of… adorable? Where did that come from? She thought, mentally smacking herself. N was not adorable. N was the king of Team Plasma and her enemy.
But… right now, in the pouring rain, in a clearing halfway between Mistralton city and Twist Mountain, N didn’t feel like the king of Team Plasma, and White didn’t feel like hero the rest of the region wanted her to be. They were just two teenagers, just N and White. It was dangerous, allowing herself to think like this. She shouldn’t entertain these thoughts at all. They were too indulgent. They brought along what ifs, like what if N was just another boy who had grown up in Nuvema Town? What if they had been best friends since childhood? What if, on the day their relationship finally, inevitably grew into something more, her mom just smiled and said she knew it would happen all along? And Cheren would promise to beat N up if he ever hurt her, despite also being his friend, and Bianca would smile and tease the two of them endlessly? But no, that was not the case. And if White were ever to bring N home to her mother she would probably pitch a fit. Cheren would never allow it and Bianca would just be confused. It wouldn’t happen.
Snap out of it, White! She scolded herself. That was why she didn’t let her thoughts wander. Because then she would only end up imagining the impossible and confusing herself. Whatever feelings she thought she had for N needed to be squashed, but with him standing just a foot or two away from her, hair soaked through with rain and the fabric of his black turtleneck clinging deliciously to his torso, it was impossible not to start thinking that way.
“Shouldn’t we, um, I don’t know, get out of the rain? Aren’t you worried about catching a cold?” White questioned, grasping at thin air to escape from her thoughts.
“How does one catch a temperature?” N wondered, clearly puzzled by the phrase.
“It means to get sick,” White said. Then, in a bold and probably not too smart move, she grabbed at his hand and pulled him behind her into the trees. “Let’s go find some cover.” N turned over his shoulder and called out to Tympole, who ceased his splashing in the puddle to bounce along behind them.
“Where are we going?” N questioned, stumbling as White moved too fast through the trees, struggling to stay on his feet. Her grip on his hand was steadying though, and despite his usual opposition to physical contact with other humans, N thought it felt quite nice. Her hand was warm, despite the cold weather, and her skin soft. Their hands fit nicely together, he mused.
“I told you!” she declared with a renewed vigour, tugging sharply on his hand. “We need to get out of the rain!”
They ran clumsily along through the bramble until they came to a tree with a considerably large trunk and a soft looking patch of moss spilling over its roots. The tree’s foliage was thick, allowing only the occasional drop of rain to come tricking through. White sat down at the base of the tree and patted the spot next to her, gesturing to N to sit down as well. N awkwardly perched on one of the tree roots, trying to sit so that he could lean against the trunk without invading White’s space. The brunette was also suddenly painfully aware of their close proximity, and her heart began to beat loudly against her chest. The noise of the rain was muffled by the canopy of tree leaves, and everything seemed louder now in comparison. She felt like she was breathing much too heavily, and scrambled to compose herself. White decided to focus instead on where Dewott and Tympole were wrestling playfully, chattering amicably and getting acquainted with each other.
“Dewott and Tympole seem to get along well,” she observed out loud, looking to N for his reaction and then realising that she had made a huge mistake.
His wide, electrical blue eyes were looking directly at her. He seemed to be analysing her movement, taking in her speech and mannerisms. He had a way of doing that, always trying to pick everything apart and understand it. White could feel the heat of blush rising to her cheeks.
“You’re cold,” N mumbled absentmindedly, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of her wet brunette hair behind her ear. White had never felt more self conscious.
“What?” she stuttered, looking down at her legs to see that she was, indeed, shivering. Goosebumps had risen all along her arms and thighs, although whether that was from the cold or something else entirely, she wasn’t sure. “Oh, I supposed so.”
“Here,” N turned suddenly, reaching into his bag and procuring a folded bundle of thick, warm looking, deep maroon fabric. “It’s my travelling cloak,” he explained as he handed it to her. “Anthea and Concordia insisted I take it with me to stay safe from the weather, but I don’t like it much. I rather prefer the feel of the rain on my skin.” He spoke the words affectionately, and White knew that Anthea and Concordia were people he truly cared about. He didn’t use the same tone speaking of them as he did when he spoke of Ghetsis. But who were they?
That train of thought didn’t last long, for soon N’s arms were encircling her shoulders, guiding her arms into the over-sized sleeves of the garment. He moved with ease and a fluidity that suggested that he did not at all feel awkward about giving her his cloak, much like a boyfriend would give his girlfriend his jacket. But he doesn’t know that, White reminded herself. He’s just being friendly. Besides, the fabric of the cloak was luxurious and warm, and she found herself melting into the coat’s embrace. It must be nice to be royalty, always having luxury items like these at your dispense.
“Thank you,” she murmured demurely, self-consciously tugging at the brim of her hat to cover her wide blue eyes.
“It was not a problem,” N assured. “You needed it more.” He was so selfless and good. There was no sense to it, yet for some reason, it seemed to make perfect sense at the same time.
She tugged her hat off, no longer able to bear the wet mess that was her hair. With a yank, her hair tie came out and her long, tangled brown hair was sent tumbling over her shoulders. White’s fingers went to work, methodically combing though the knots created by the rain. When she went to tie it up again, however, the hair tie snapped, and she made a small noise of frustration.
“You should wear your hair like that more,” N said, more to himself than her, really, so quietly that White wasn’t even sure she was meant to hear him. The comment sent her heart into a flurry of quick, staccato beats. He wasn’t allowed to say things like that to her. N cleared his throat, aware of his slip up, and attempted to restore easy conversation. He didn’t know what was going on with him. When he was around White he wanted to forget about Team Plasma. It was selfish, and he knew that. It was unfair to all of the people who supported him, unfair to his father, and most of all, unfair to the pokémon he was working so hard to free. But he couldn’t help it. He didn’t understand the things he felt when he was around White. No other human had ever made his heart race so fast or his mind get so muddled or his speech feel so disconnected. He didn’t know what the emotion was even called. It was dangerous.
They talked about all of the safe things they could come up with, which really wasn’t much. Every second their conversation seemed to threaten to venture into the wrong territory, wanting to be about the obvious differences between them, to mention Team Plasma, to lull into an uncomfortable silence.
The forest was starting to darken as night fell, and the rain began to slowly let up, turning from a heavy downpour back into a light drizzle. Yet, even though the weather had improved, neither of them made a move to get up. White could feel her eye lids beginning to droop, her shoulders sagging against the bark of the tree. The warmth of N’s cloak was relaxing, and she found herself struggling to stay awake.
“White?” she heard N say, right on the edge of her consciousness. She jolted a little, thankful that he had pulled her from her sleep for just a moment longer. “Are you… awake?” White blinked, surprised to find N leaning over her with a concerned expression on his face. In the dim light of the forest his eyes seemed to shine even more brilliantly. He was truly gorgeous, she realised.
“Yeah,” she mumbled sleepily, reaching up to swat his bangs from his eyes. She was entirely unaware of her actions, but she did notice the adorable flush that rose to the tops of his elegant cheekbones. It contrasted sharply with his pale skin. It suited him. “You’re cold,” she stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Well, yes. But only a little,” N amended, trying to brush off her concern.
“No, it’s not fair of me to hog your coat. It is yours, after all,” she continued, having none of his selflessness. “Here, we can share.”
If she was less exhausted, less cold, less in the middle of the woods with a boy she secretly really liked, then the more alert, more reasonable White would be yelling at herself. She would never be saying these things, doing these things. But really, she would still want to. Because when you were tired you were without pretence, and you were truly yourself, acting on feeling without reason there to get in the way.
Hesitantly, N laid down beside her and she threw the fabric of the cloak over his shoulders. The moss beneath them was soft and the body heat radiating off the other was reassuring and comfortable in its own, unique way. N had never been comfortable being this close to other humans, no one other than Anthea and Concordia anyway, who were like mothers to him. But he didn’t mind sharing his space with White, the contradicting mystery of a trainer that had plagued his thoughts and disrupted his formulas ever since he met her, and for some strange and unfathomable reason, he really didn’t mind.
They shifted at some point so they were curled in each other’s arms, sharing each other’s warmth and the comfort of the cloak, their pokémon dozing at their feet, and fell asleep. Their bodies folded perfectly together, like they were one being. It was enough to seal out the cold and lull them both into a deep and dreamless sleep
***
When White woke up a beam of pure, shimmering sunlight was shining through the gaps in the leaves, reflecting off of the water droplets gathered on the surrounding plants, and N was nowhere to be found. His cloak remained, though, along with a note, elegant script scrawled daintily on a paper that appeared to be torn from a notebook.
White,
Thank you for yesterday. I enjoyed talking to you and your pokémon. I know that we are very different in terms of goals and ideals, and I should probably not care about you as much as I do, but I find that I cannot help it. You do not make sense to me. I cannot make sense of the emotions you evoke from me. They are strange, alien, but not unwelcomed. I hope that even though we continue to pursue our different goals we will still be able to have times like last night, where we do not have to worry about our ongoing conflict. One day I will figure out where you fit in my equations, and when I do I will have the formula to finally succeed in liberating pokémon and befriending the legendary dragon type, Zekrom. Until I do, I hope that we can continue to be friends (I hope that is what you think of me as. I have always wanted a human friend) and learn more about the other. I know you may not agree with me, but this is what I believe in, and I wish that you will someday be able to see things my way so that we will no longer have to fight.
Much obliged,
N
White’s heart did a little flip-flop at his words. Yes, they were not supposed to feel this way, whatever way that was, but they were allowed to break rules because when it came down to it, they were just teenagers. Even if N was a little strange, or a lot strange, and White was expected to bring down the very organisation he stood for, they would find a way to get around that. N’s note was proof. They would have a thousand more nights like the last if White had anything to say about it. It had felt like a dream, a wonderful dream, and if not for the note White would have been convinced it never actually happened.
That was why she may or may not have tucked the slip of paper into the free pocket of her bag, planning to keep it there for a long time.