Archive of Our Own

They meet on the cycling road between Slateport and Mauville, where Ash has been called to by an old friend who is entering the local Pokémon Triathlon. She expresses a certain level of disdain about the whole thing, telling him over the phone, “I didn’t mean to say yes, but I felt too bad to take it back…so I thought maybe you’d want to join me?”

Ash isn’t so great at biking, he says, but his enthusiasm for competition outweighs any trepidation he may be feeling about that and he drags Goh along too, although Goh can’t really say the same and is far too humiliated to admit he barely even knows how to ride a bike—he’s just never been any good at it, and that was a good basis, at least when he was younger, to give up on trying entirely.

So, he says nothing of it, and he takes some solace in the fact that upon meeting him, May immediately launches into the story of when she met Ash and he fried her bike. He protests that it was Team Rocket’s fault, not his, and, anyway, hasn’t he made it up to her by now? And she laughs and says, “Well, I did have to buy a new bike for myself, so I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

Ash and Goh get rentals, which lack the lustre of May’s new bike but otherwise work perfectly fine. Even still, Ash is miles ahead of Goh the second they start pedalling, and May stays right at his back, apparently more interested in keeping pace with him than in making sure Goh is still with them. Which is fine, of course, and exactly what he expected. But it doesn’t give him much motivation to catch up with either of them, especially not when a flash of light catches his attention from the corner of his eye.

He turns the bike to the edge of the bridge, then climbs off it and peers down, frowning when he cannot find any source for the light.

And then he hears it: a whimpering cry, and a meek, distressed, “Plu! Plu!”

Before he can even register what he is doing, he leans the bike against the railing and then pushes himself up on the ledge to get a better view. There, between the trusses near the bottom of the stone pillars suspending the bridge, the flash of light comes again. It is a faint mimicry of a Discharge, blue in colour.

He glances at his abandoned bike, and then  in the direction May and Ash have raced off in. They probably haven’t even noticed that he’s not with them. They likely won’t realize until they reach the other end of the path.

It doesn’t matter, he tells himself firmly, and swings one leg over the protective railing, then the other. He takes a deep breath, reminds himself he’s done scarier things than this, and begins to climb down the trusses, mindful of where and how heavily his feet collide with the metal. He does not want to frighten the Pokémon.

He clearly needn’t have worried about it running off, though. As he drops down on the stone foundation, the more alert of the two, a Plusle, looks up at him with wide, imploring eyes. Beside it is a Minun, eyes half-lidded as it tosses and turns. Little shocks of electricity spark between its cheeks, the tell-tale signs of a fever in an Electric-type.

“Plu!” Plusle reaches forward, tugging urgently at the leg of Goh’s pants. He crouches down and offers a hand out to Minun, who lets out another whining cry and unleashes a staticky Discharge, chasing him back away again.

He grits his teeth, thinking hard, then turns his gaze on the other Pokémon. “Can you help, Plusle?”

It jumps up, nodding vigorously, and rushes back to Minun’s side. “Plu, plu! Plu!” It grabs Minun by the arm, giving it a hearty pull.

But Minun does not move. Its eyes flutter closed, apparently in pain, as Plusle drops its hold and backs away, ears drooping dejectedly.

Goh looks up at the bridge, then back toward the trail leading to Slateport. It is not far from here—much closer than it is to Mauville, which Ash and May are surely drawing near to by now—but it’s still far enough that a sustained electric shock would probably do some lasting damage to him. As he watches Minun writhe in pain, though, he thinks—Ash would take the risk. So doesn’t that mean he should take it too?

He reaches a hand out to Plusle, who turns its teary-eyed gaze on him in an instant.

“Climb up,” he tells it. “We can carry Minun to the Pokémon Centre. Okay?”

Plusle hesitates a moment, and then puffs out its little chest and scurries up his arm to his shoulder. It is much lighter than Grookey, who he recalled to its Ball earlier out of fear of a biking accident sending them both tumbling, but he can feel it trembling with anxiety, too. This only steels his resolve to reach down and scoop Minun into his arms, even as it thrashes against his hold and hisses and spits at him in protest.

“Hey, hey.” He cradles it in his arms, a safe distance away from his pounding heart. “It’s okay, Minun, really, just—just relax, I won’t hurt you… Let’s get you to Nurse Joy. She can help…”

A shock courses through his hand, jolting up his spine. He clenches his jaw and determinedly does not react to it, lest Minun take that as its cue to send another. He makes haste down the stone foundation and on to the path, paying no mind to the wild Pokémon who peer up at him as he flies by them, Plusle clinging tightly to his shoulder.

In spite of his concerns, he has received only a few more minor shocks from Minun by the time they make it back into the city proper. Probably not for lack of trying, though; even its squirming has slowed significantly on their trek here. He holds it against his chest and pushes open the door to the Pokémon Centre, calling out, “Hello? Nurse Joy?”

In an instant, she is there, and then she is gently prying Minun from his arms. The change of hands apparently renews its fight, as it pushes back against her and attempts to bury its way into Goh’s shirt instead.

“Plu!” cries Plusle, reaching down helplessly in an attempt to disentangle it.

“It’s okay,” Nurse Joy assures Plusle, offering it a tight albeit genuine smile as she pulls away from Minun. Its kicking stops immediately, and she turns her gaze on Goh. “Maybe your Minun would prefer to have you carry it back?”

His throat goes dry. “I… It’s not my Minun. I just found it like this and…”

“Well, it seems to feel safe with you, doesn’t it?”

Does it? Only minutes ago, it was doing the same thing to him that it just did to her. He somehow doubts it has had a change of heart that quickly.

But aside from its shivering, it holds itself still in his arms. Small sparks rise up from its cheeks, but for the first time it occurs to Goh that perhaps the shocks he was feeling earlier were not intentional attacks—simply a survival instinct, the overwhelming need to lash out against forced vulnerability.

His hold on it tightens, just a bit. He nods at Nurse Joy and says, very seriously, “What should I do?”

She guides him to the back, where they are met by her partner Chansey, and directs him to lay Minun down on an examination table. Plusle peers over his shoulder; he can still feel it trembling in concern.

Minun cracks one eye open to see what’s going on as it registers the new surface beneath it, but when it sees Plusle riding on Goh’s shoulder, it seems to relax again, at least enough so that Nurse Joy can move in to begin checking its vitals.

She hooks Minun up to a small voltage meter, explaining, “Sometimes overexertion can cause Electric-types to build up excess energy, which then has nowhere to go and forces their systems into defence mode. I don’t suppose you saw what put Minun in this state?”

“I don’t know.” He thinks back, frowning. “There didn’t seem to be any kind of threat nearby. And Plusle is fine.”

Nurse Joy watches the meter swing to life and hums absently. “It could be any number of things. Sometimes just a minor infection can cause it, though Minun seems in fine health otherwise… It may be worth monitoring its condition for a while after it leaves here…”

“It’s not my Pokémon,” Goh reminds her, and she blinks, looking faintly surprised.

“Oh, yes, of course… In that case, maybe it should stay here a while longer.”

Plusle makes a noise of protest from Goh’s shoulder, but before either he or Nurse Joy can react, Goh’s phone begins to ring.

“Incoming call from Ash! Incoming call from Ash! Incoming—”

He fumbles to grab it, shooting Nurse Joy an apologetic look as he turns around and lifts the device to his ear; he does his best not to wince as Ash’s voice rings out around the room: “Goh! Where are you? We went back to the bridge and—”

“W-wait a sec, Ash.” He puts a hand over the speaker and lowers his phone, glancing back over his shoulder at Nurse Joy and Minun. “Um, I’m sorry about this. Maybe Plusle could stay here?”

“Plu!”

Nurse Joy frowns. “It doesn’t seem to want you to leave, either. Perhaps it’s worried that Minun will feel abandoned?”

“Plu, plu!” Plusle’s paws dig into the fabric of Goh’s sleeve, as if that were enough to hold him in place.

Goh brings his free hand up and carefully pulls the indignant Pokémon off him, even as it wriggles against him in an attempt to regain its foothold on his shoulder. It drapes itself over his arm in a very dramatic show of protest, only settling down again once he has lowered it down on to the table next to Minun. It blinks up at him, tilting its head curiously.

“I’ll come back,” he promises it. “Stay with Minun, okay? Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

Nurse Joy’s lips twitch up at that, though she says nothing as Goh takes up the phone again and turns to exit the room. He glances back once before saying to Ash, “I’m at the Pokémon Centre in Slateport. Where are you?”

“We came back to the Slateport side after we found your bike. Did something happen?”

“You could say that, I guess…” He casts about for a place to sit, eventually opting for a couch midway between the examination room door and the Pokémon Centre entrance. “I found a wild Minun and it looked like it was in pain, so I brought it back here.”

“Oh… Is it gonna be okay?”

“I think so. It’s with Nurse Joy now.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” He can practically hear the smile in Ash’s voice, but, for once, it doesn’t do much to relieve the tension hiking up his muscles. “Me and May are close by. We’ll be there soon, so wait for us, ‘kay?”

As if there is anything else he could do right now anyway.

But he swallows back his irritation and says, “Okay. See you soon.”

“Yep! Bye, then!”

And with that, Ash hangs up, leaving him alone but for the steady hum of the bright lights overhead.

With a heavy sigh, he pockets his phone again and turns his gaze up to the ceiling. He isn’t really annoyed with Ash for dragging him here, or for leaving him behind on the bridge; it has more to do with the cheery cadence of his voice, the lack of acknowledgement that, if he had just turned back once, he would have noticed that Goh wasn’t following him long before he reached his destination.

For now, it’s just a matter of which door will open first. A bitter voice in the back of his head says this is nothing new; the louder, more understanding part of him reminds him that it is not anyone else’s fault that he is always waiting for someone to open the door. It is his own, for caring enough to listen for the slide of the lock in the first place.

In the end, it is the examination room door. On either side of Nurse Joy are Plusle and Minun, both looking healthy and alert; when they see him watching them, Plusle bounds over excitedly, closely tailed by a more suspicious Minun. Above them, Nurse Joy says, “I helped Minun release some of its excess energy, but it may still be out of sorts for a few days. Some rest will do it well.”

Goh looks down at the two Pokémon, his earlier ruminations melting away with a fond smile. “That’s great! You’re looking a lot better already, Minun.”

“Min…”

“Plu, plu!” Plusle falls back and makes a grab for Minun’s paw, pulling it up to its side as it approaches Goh. He reaches down to pat its head, and is gratified when it doesn’t immediately pull away from him.

Its more hyperactive counterpart jumps up and down excitedly; its paws are lit up with electricity like little pom-poms, eliciting a shy smile from Minun. Just when Goh is opening his mouth to ask Nurse Joy if there’s anything more he can do, the entrance to the Pokémon Centre opens up for Ash and May, who both are breathing hard, like they ran here, as if they think Goh can’t handle a sick Pokémon on his own, as if they think—

“Goh!”

Seeing his smile is completely different from hearing it over the phone. Goh is mirroring the expression before he even has time to berate himself for it.

“Oh, Ash, look!” May points at Plusle, whose cheering routine has come to a halt as it stares up at the newcomers. Minun shuffles nervously behind it, seemingly overwhelmed by the energy of these new admits. “They’re so cute!”

“I’m guessing they’ve been together a long time,” Nurse Joy pipes up. “And it seems like they’ve decided who they want their Trainer to be, too.”

Everyone’s eyes land on Goh, who looks down at Plusle and Minun. Plusle pulls Minun forward again and releases a full-body static.

Nurse Joy chuckles. “That’s one of the ways Plusle encourages its partners during battle. I think it’s trying to tell you to catch it.”

“Go for it, Goh!” cheers Ash.

He smiles faintly, digging into his pocket for two Poké Balls. They hit Plusle and Minun at the same time, but while Minun’s Ball gives a few shakes and then goes still with a click and a shower of sparks, the sound of Goh’s Pokédex recording the capture is immediately drowned out by that of Plusle’s Ball bursting open again. Plusle jumps up, electric pom-poms still waving in the air, and runs over to the other Ball to tap the release button and bring Minun back out.

They all stare at the two Pokémon, dumbfounded. Despite the failed capture, Plusle shows no sign of irritation.

“Did it…not understand?” May asks after a long moment.

“But it knew how to send Minun out,” Ash points out. “So…I dunno.”

Goh looks down at the exuberant little Pokémon, heart caught up somewhere in his throat. “Plusle?”

It turns to him, jovially waving its pom-poms. “Plu, plu!”

Nurse Joy hums, tapping a thoughtful finger against her chin. “Perhaps it wanted you to catch Minun? Paired Pokémon tend to stick together, but if it’s concerned that it can’t take care of Minun on its own…”

“Then…do you think it wants to go back to where I found it?”

“I can’t say that’s not a possibility.”

“Well, you’re staying until the triathlon is over, right?” May smiles encouragingly at Plusle, then at Goh. “Maybe it will change its mind before you and Ash go back to Kanto!”

Goh eyes Plusle, unable to shake the cold doubt that washes over his skin. “Maybe…”

A hand lands on his shoulder, jolting him to attention. He tilts his head back to see Ash beaming down at him, as warm and comforting as he has ever been.

“It might just not like the idea of being in a Ball.” As if to emphasize the point, Pikachu leaps up on his shoulder and he reaches his other hand over to scratch behind his ears affectionately. “Some people say Electric-types can be more free-spirited than other Pokémon. Maybe Plusle just wants to see the world on its own terms!”

Goh’s shoulders slump beneath his touch. Wearily, he musters a smile and a nod and says, as if he can even believe it, “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Minun approach, slow and cautious. And then it grabs hold of his pant leg and pulls itself up on to his lap. As he watches, it curls up there and closes its eyes.

“It may still be a little groggy,” Nurse Joy remarks, “but it seems to trust that you’ll look after it.”

His heart wrenches. He looks down at the Pokémon, drifting off to sleep, and then back toward its healthier partner, who is still cheering. As if high spirits can help Minun recover faster.

And maybe they can. He turns his gaze to May, and then to Ash, who is still smiling at him. Present and rigid and consistent. His first and best friend.

“Let’s give it some time, then,” he says at last. “Maybe we should get something to eat and then come back here for the night.”

Ash and May are both agreeable to that, and Nurse Joy sends them off with a smile and a friendly wave. Goh recalls Minun to its Poké Ball, and tells himself he is not all that surprised when Plusle follows them out the door. Ahead of him, May is enthusiastically telling Ash about the set-up for the triathlon, which begins south of Mauville and tracks all the way through Slateport to Dewford. Tomorrow, they will go out and practice the sea route with their Pokémon, and then they will head back to Mauville in time for the actual event to start three days from now.

But Goh is hardly listening, even when they sit down to eat at a seafood bar by the waterfront. His attention is on Plusle; it stays by them the entire time, alternating between cheer routines, which have May and Ash laughing and clapping, and wandering around the table near Goh’s feet, as if it does not want to leave him—or leave Minun, whose Ball is still in his pocket. When they stand to leave, it follows immediately, right at his heel. All the way back to the Pokémon Centre. All the way up to their room.

May says, “It seems really attached to you.”

Ash smiles and nods in agreement. “I bet it just needs time to warm up to the idea of being in a Ball.”

Goh isn’t so sure, but it’s hard to disagree with Ash when he looks like this—so hopeful and inspired and caring—so he doesn’t say so. When he settles into bed for the night, Grookey finds its place near his head, and he lets Minun out of its Ball to keep Plusle company at the foot of the bed, where it settled shortly after Goh crawled under the covers. The two Pokemon curl up together and fall asleep almost immediately, a testament to all the stress from earlier in the day.

It takes a while longer for Goh to join them, though. He is thinking about that moment under the bridge, too—or just before it, anyway, when May and Ash raced off on their bikes and left him behind. He ought to be glad they did; after all, he wouldn’t have caught Minun if they’d all still been together.

But the gratitude refuses to come. He listens to the soft snores of the Pokemon wrapped up together near his feet and wishes, even against the ache in his chest that tells him he does not really wish for it at all, that he had never found them, that they were not here now to remind him of just how easy it is for Ash to leave him exactly as he found him all those months ago: alone.

In the morning, Plusle is gone.

For a few nauseating moments, Goh thinks it is his fault. That, somehow, Plusle knew the direction of his thoughts last night and heeded them, that it is now off on its own, feeling hurt and abandoned.

But Minun is still here, and does not seem upset or even particularly surprised by Plusle’s absence. When Goh finally finds his voice and asks, “Where’s Pluslse?” it just tilts its head curiously, as if to say, Why does it matter?

It is not anywhere in the room, nor anywhere nearby outside it. Somehow, this doesn’t come as a shock to Goh, though Ash and May are both sporting confused frowns by the time they make it to the front of the Pokemon Centre.

“Maybe they’re not paired after all?” May wonders. “I can’t imagine Plusle would’ve been okay with just leaving Minun behind after it was sick if they were…”

“They’re definitely a pair,” Goh says. “Plusle seemed pretty concerned yesterday. Maybe it’ll come back.”

“Yeah, but how’s it gonna know where to find us?” Ash glances at May, then back to Goh. “We’re crossing the water today to test out the sea route, remember? Even if Plusle were a really good swimmer, I think that’d be too far for it.”

Goh hesitates a moment. He looks at Grookey, on his shoulder, and then down at Minun, who is hiding behind his legs. It’s more alert today than it was yesterday evening, but it still seems more timid than its positive counterpart would suggest it usually is.

Then again, maybe it’s because Plusle isn’t here that Minun has withdrawn. They are the Cheering Pokemon. Helpers, first and foremost, but before they help people and other Pokemon, they help each other. Wasn’t it Plusle who stayed with Minun and called out until it got help? Wasn’t it Plusle who encouraged Goh to catch Minun. and to stay while Nurse Joy treated it?

Maybe Plusle is not the one who is feeling alone right now, he thinks, and before he can convince himself it is a bad idea, says, “I’ll wait here, then. If it comes back, I’ll just meet you guys in Dewford.”

He tells himself he is expecting it when Ash smiles at him and says, “Great, then we’ll see you there!”

“And hopefully Plusle, too,” May adds. “Well, Ash, are you ready? We’ve been training hard, so you’re gonna have to work to keep up!”

Ash’s smile pushes up into a grin. “Oh, yeah? I’ll race you there, then! See you later, Goh!”

And with that, they both are off, making haste for the port. Minun peers around Goh’s leg to watch them, while Goh himself forces his gaze away, all too aware of how the visual of them racing away from him has tightened his jaw.

From its perch on his shoulders, Grookey chitters, but it is the call of, “Min?” that finally has Goh shaking his head and forcing his shoulders down and back.

“Let’s go look for Plusle, then,” he says. “Any ideas where it might’ve gone?”

“Min…”

He bites back a sigh. Of course, they could just wait around in the city for Plusle to come back, but the idea of remaining put here, with only Minun for company, is suddenly unbearable. It is quiet, and downtrodden; even once they begin walking, its lethargy is all too obvious.

So why does it seem so unconcerned about where Plusle has gone?

The most natural place to begin their search is by the bridge, where Goh found them both yesterday. Taking the path from the bridge to the city in reverse, now, he takes his time looking around at the scenery, and all the wild Pokémon that make their homes under the biking path. An Electrike approaches them curiously, but even though he has not yet caught one, the desire to do so just does not come to him, and by the time he registers how very pointless his despondency is, it has left them to their own devices once more.

As it goes, Grookey taps Goh’s head with its stick, drawing his attention over to it. He sticks his hands in his pockets and scowls.

“I know, I know. We can come back after we find Plusle. It’s not like we’ll have anything better to be doing.”

“Key?”

“Forget it,” he mutters. “Minun, do you see Plusle anywhere?”

“Min-min…”

“We’ll keep looking,” Goh promises it. “Maybe it’s on the trusses?”

But even a close look at the underside of the bridge does not yield any results. They spend hours there, while Minun grows more exhausted and Goh grows more irate. By now, Ash and May are probably almost to Dewford, likely without so much as a second thought about how he is doing, or when he might be able to catch a ship from the port here to join them. He imagines, for a moment, if he did not join them—how long would it take before Ash called him to see if he was okay? Would they continue on to Mauville, and not even let him know?

No, Ash isn’t like that. Goh knows he’s not. But even still, that smile on his face this morning, the complete lack of concern in it—he cannot get it out of his head. They spend so much time together, and not necessarily because Ash wants to. It’s just their circumstances, the fact that they are the only research fellows at the institute. But Ash has friends everywhere, people just like May: people who can keep up with him better, who can challenge him more, who know him better than Goh ever could, even after all this time.

He's stuck here, searching for a wayward Plusle that does not even want him to catch it. But what’s the alternative? He goes to Dewford with Ash and May, the background noise to their competition? He did not want to participate in the triathlon. He only came here in the first place because he wanted to be with Ash.

And yet, here he is—an ocean between them.

His mood has not improved by the time he calls off their search to return to Slateport, as the sun begins its descent toward the horizon. They have covered pretty much all the ground between Mauville and Slateport, with no success. Around mid-afternoon, Minun grew so weary Goh had to scoop it up and carry it in his arms, and there is a part of him, a part he wishes fiercely he could bury, that resents it for this: the weakness, the reliance, the fact that he is here because of it, that he bothered to help it in the first place.

A year ago, surely he would not have bothered. It is Ash, kind-hearted and determined, who has made him this way. And yet, just as surely, it is Ash who has left him here to care for Minun’s bleeding heart, by himself. As if he knows anything about bringing back someone who has decided he is not worth their time.

But when they return to the Pokémon Centre, they find Plusle standing outside it in wait. Minun cries out, climbing fervently down Goh to reach its partner; he hisses in pain as its feet dig into his skin with no care for their placement or force, until at last it drops down to the ground and scurries to meet its partner, who begins cheering for it. The effect is immediate: Minun stands up a little straighter, looking healthier than it has for hours.

When it lifts its own hands, though, it does not begin cheering. Goh watches with a tight chest as it leans forward and slaps Plusle in the face.

“M-Minun!” He rushes forward, but stops short as he sees Plusle puff out its chest in frustration.

“Plu, plu!”

“Min!”

With a huff, Minun crosses its arms over its chest and turns away. Plusle tilts its head, puzzled, and then seems to brighten again.

“Plu, plu!” it cries, but its gaze is on Goh, now. It comes forward and grabs the leg of his pants, pulling insistently.

“Minun?” Goh asks uncertainly. It glances up at him with a distinctly tearful gaze; suddenly, he feels as out of his depth with the two Pokémon as he did this morning when he first discovered Plusle’s absence.

“Plu!” Plusle says, indignantly, and pulls at his pants again. When he looks down at it, its cheeks are sparking.

“Fine, fine!” he relents. “But we can’t just leave Minun behind ‘cause you’re mad at it.”

“Plu!” Plusle pouts.

“Is that why you left? You had a fight?”

Plusle pauses, confused. It shakes its head.

Goh stares at it, and then whirls around to face Minun again. He stoops down to pick it up, cautious of the way its cheeks spark as he does so. When he turns again to let Plusle lead them away, it is bouncing from one foot to the other, apparently anxious to go.

It leads them to the market, where it swiftly disappears from view. Exhausted, Goh slows down with a heavy sigh and resigns himself to his fate of looking out for it between the feet of all the market-goers. It takes a few minutes to spot it, at a booth selling a large variety of different berries. He is just about to approach it when he sees it climb up the stall and, when the vendor isn’t looking, snatch two Sitrus Berries from the display. It jumps down and races back toward them, holding up its stolen goods with pride.

“Min!” Minin struggles in Goh’s hold, wanting down, but Goh just holds it tighter against his chest.

“Plusle!” he hisses. “You can’t just take those!”

It sets the berries down and cocks its head at him. “Plu?”

Minun settles again with an ill-tempered huff, while Goh kneels down and frees one of his hands to pick up the berries.

“We’re going back and paying for these,” he says firmly. “You can’t just do whatever you want whenever you feel like it!”

Plusle’s cheeks begin sparking again. It stamps one of its feet against the ground, letting out a furious cry; the intensity of the electricity crackling around it has drawn the attention of others, encouraging them to stand back and stare.

A flush rises to Goh’s face. It is not even his Pokémon, and yet there is no doubt that, right now, everyone around them thinks it is—and that its recalcitrance is a mark of his inability to train it properly.

But as much as he would like to walk away from it, he can’t bring himself to. Its gaze is enraged, yes, but there is more to the shine in its eyes than mere frustration. Hesitantly, Goh sets the berries back down and reaches out to it. From where it is still cradled against his chest, Minun peers over his arm to see its partner.

The shocks from Plusle race through his fingertips, up his arm. He grits his teeth against the tingling pain, and reaches farther, until finally his hand lands on top of the Pokémon’s head. At once, its tantrum stops. It looks up at him with wide, wet eyes.

“I’m not taking them away from you,” Goh says, carefully. “I’m just saying we have to go back and pay for them.”

“Plu, plu!”

He glances up, watching as though from a far distance as the market-goers cast their judgemental gazes away again. His jaw clenches, while against his chest, Minun whines morosely. It’s enough to bring Goh’s attention back down to the two Cheering Pokémon—both of them looking rather tearful, their eyes on the berries in Goh’s other hand.

He shakes himself, and straightens up. Resolutely lifts his chin, avoiding the critical eyes all around him. He does not need anyone’s approval; he does not owe them any explanation for Plusle’s behaviour. He marches toward the berry seller, Plusle hot on his heels.

“This Plusle seems to have taken these from your stall,” he explains. “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll pay the price for them both.”

“You ought to keep a closer eye on your Pokémon,” the man says, disdainfully.

Goh’s shoulders tense. Even as he reaches for his wallet, he mutters, “It’s not my Pokémon.”

The way the man looks at him, it is clear he doesn’t believe it, but anything he might have said is drowned out by Plusle’s indignant cry from Goh’s feet. Jaw clenching more tightly still, Goh hastens to fish out the appropriate amount of change to pass to the vendor, and then kneels down to give Plusle the berries back.

It is not enough.

Slapping his hand away, it turns around with a huff and crosses its little arms over its chest. Against his chest, Minun begins to struggle, until it finally dislodges itself from his hold in order to jump down and approach Plusle. It takes Plusle by the arms, wrenching them apart, and then, to Goh’s surprise, discharges a shock, which passes through Plusle’s body from where the two Pokémon are connected.

As the electricity fades, Plusle seems to shake itself, relaxing again. It carries itself forward with a slight limp—the shock was clearly an attack, meant to hurt—but a far greater deal of serenity. At last, it accepts the berries back, and passes one of them to Minun. As they wander away from the berry booth, the two Pokémon munch happily on their treats, without so much as a glance backward.

Finally feeling for the moment like he can breathe again, Goh fishes his phone out of his pocket and checks the screen for any recent notifications. He tells himself he was expecting it when the screen comes up blank.

The knowledge does little to improve his mood as they trudge back to the Pokémon Centre for the evening, though. While he sends out Grookey and his other Pokémon to eat dinner alongside Plusle and Minun, he finds himself scrolling despondently through his text history with Ash. He ought to tell him that he will come with Minun and Plusle to Dewford tomorrow; he ought to share with him how difficult Plusle was to find today, or about what happened in the market, seek out some advice or comfort or even just a second opinion on why Plusle acted the way it did.

But instead, his chest fills with a bitter rage. If Ash really cared, he would have messaged first. It is well into the evening now; surely he could have spared a phone call by this hour, and yet he has probably not even taken a moment to wonder how Goh is doing. Why should he? It’s not like Goh is nearly as valuable to him as he is to Goh: his first and best friend.

He picks sparingly at his own meal, until finally giving it up as a bad job and retiring to bed alongside his Pokémon. Just like the night before, Plusle and Minun curl up at his feet, Grookey near his head. In spite of their warm presence, though, cold creeps over him from the other side of the empty room, leaving him as voided and lonely as he has ever been.

When he wakes next, it is to the sound of small feet carrying across the floor. He reaches for his phone to shine a light across the dark room on Plusle, who is attempting to push open the window. It freezes as Goh’s flashlight lands on it—and immediately begins squeaking in protest.

Squinting, Goh turns on his phone screen to check the time. 4:03am.

His movements have jostled both Minun and Grookey, who lift their heads groggily to see the source of the light. As Goh watches, Plusle steps away from the window; he hears it heave a large sigh.

In the time it takes for it to cross the room again and climb back up on to the bed, Goh’s sleep-addled brain begins to catch up with him. Is this what happened yesterday, too? Minun’s lack of concern, even now, is apparent: this is normal for them, then.

But Plusle and Minun aren’t crepuscular Pokémon, nor even nocturnal. Plusle had seemed awake enough both yesterday and the day before. If anything, Minun has been the tired, downtrodden one of the two.

“Where were you going?” Goh mutters. “You didn’t return to the bridge yesterday, but what were you doing all day while we were looking for you?”

Plusle looks up at him, tilting its head to the side. “Plu?”

Goh sighs. “Never mind. It’s not like you have to stay here, but we’re leaving today, so if you want to stay with Minun…”

“Plu, plu!”

“You can’t be running off, though,” Goh tells it sternly. “Or stealing, or anything like that.”

Its expression remains unchanged. With a sigh, Goh flops back down on the bed and shuts off the flashlight. Whatever reason Plusle might have had to sneak out of their room, it is apparently content to leave it well enough alone now that Minun is awake to keep it company. In the dark, he watches their shadows, heads ducked together as they exchange short but spirited squeaks.

Then, he turns his phone on again; he wastes only a moment being disappointed before berating himself for getting his hopes up in the first place. It is too early for Ash to call him, anyway. He would not have messaged when he knew Goh was sleeping, though that courtesy is likely only a happy accident caused by the fact that he, himself, would be asleep too.

Maybe this was Ash’s goal all along: to isolate him, to push him away. The excuse of needing to find Plusle just made it that much easier, but isn’t it still true that he came here with Goh only to leave him behind on the bridge? To leave him behind here, in Slateport, while he spends time instead with May, who knew him first, who maybe even knows him better? Who, certainly, is more liked by him, or he would not have agreed to go on with her while Goh remained here…

The anger of yesterday evening does not come, though. Instead, there is a bottomless, gaping void inside of him, chewing up his heart and spitting it back up just to do the same over and over again, as if there were anything left of it to destroy. This is familiar, and easier to traverse; it has been with him since he was a child, his back turned to his parents while they told him again and again that their jobs were more important to them than he could ever be.

Sleep doesn’t find him again, nor does it find Plusle and Minun, though Grookey eventually curls back up and begins snoring away. By the time they finally get up for breakfast, they all seem to be in varying states of a bad mood; even Grookey is pouting, probably put out that Plusle and Minun don’t seem interested in playing with him.

Thankfully, Plusle doesn’t try to run off again. It’s around nine o’clock when they go down to the docks to inquire about a ticket for the ferry, and their exhaustion is evident in the way they each drag their feet along the way. Minun has continued to recover physically in every other respect, though, and refuses to be carried by Goh, opting instead to walk side-by-side with Plusle.

The next ferry is due to leave in just over an hour, so Goh buys a ticket and wanders away from the docks, hands in his pockets and Grookey on his shoulder, Plusle and Minun just ahead of him. They walk without aim or concern for anything more pressing than the time they will need to get back to the docks, and eventually come to rest at a bench on the side of the street. Plusle and Minun climb up beside him, and them clamber on to his lap to peer curiously at the ferry ticket in his hand.

“Are you really okay with leaving here?” he wonders. “But I guess you don’t really seem to have other friends around here, do you?”

Plusle puffs up its cheeks at that, though Minun slumps against Goh’s thigh, dejected.

“There are worse things in the world than not having friends,” Goh says. “In some way, I guess you have each other.”

Before he can see how either of them reacts to that, he is distracted by the tone of his phone from his pocket:

“Incoming call from Ash! Incoming call from Ash! Incoming—”

With deft, angry fingers, he silences the call, then shoves his phone away once more. Both Plusle and Minun watch his pocket curiously; Grookey chitters in confusion.

All goes silent for a moment, until—

“Incoming call from Ash! Incoming call from Ash! Incoming—”

With a hiss of annoyance, he takes his phone out again and declines the call completely. Whatever Ash has to say to him now, he does not want to hear it. He has made his loyalties clear already, by abandoning Goh yesterday morning. It is too late to ford the bridge he has burnt between them.

He holds his phone in one hand, gripping it hard, as the Pokémon continue to watch him. In a few minutes, which seem to span eternities in themselves, the screen lights up with a text notification:

Going on to Mauville.

And then:

Everything OK?

The emotion that surges up from the void coils like bile in his throat. He squeezes his eyes shut, and then forces his phone back into his pocket and abruptly gets to his feet. When Plusle and Minun look up in alarm, he explains, tightly, “We’ll get a refund for the ferry ticket, then we can head on to Mauville. If we leave now, we should have plenty of time.”

They scurry down to the ground, tucking themselves into the space right beside him. Minun grabs hold of his pant leg, as if to better not lose him as they part back through the crowd to the ticketing booth on the docks. Though she processes his refund, the worker looks a little annoyed by his request. He grits his teeth and resolutely does not say any of what he wants to say of it: that it is not his fault, that he didn’t ask for this either, that he would gladly have exchanged the ferry ticket for a ticket back home, as far away from Ash as he can get.

But for all the anger stirring in his chest, he cannot make himself leave. Beneath it all, he knows that Ash hasn’t left him completely, not yet. There is still something to hold on to—a declined phone call, a concerned text message. It will only be a matter of time, and Goh should leave now, before Ash can get the last word in. But with Plusle and Minun at his heels, now more than ever the idea of being alone frightens him. He is not like Ash, able to intuit a Pokémon’s thoughts and feelings with little more than a glance and a smile. Just as surely as he cannot leave Plusle behind, he knows he will not be able to figure out just what it is that it needs from him—or Minun, for that matter, who is still anxiously clinging at his leg even with Plusle right by its side.

He inhales deeply, attempting to tame the furious bounding of his heart. There is nothing to get emotional about. All he can do now is go back to Mauville and wait for Ash. He cannot quite leverage a smile towards the Pokémon, but he tries his best to work one into his tone when he says, “C’mon, then. Let’s get going.”

Grookey races ahead with characteristic enthusiasm, but Minun and Plusle don’t reflect it back. Not one bit. They both are dragging their feet as he turns to guide them away from the port. Maybe they, too, share in the fantasy of going somewhere else, anywhere but here; maybe that is what Plusle was trying to do this morning when it woke them up. But why leave Minun behind, when even now it stands by its side and puffs out its chest, as if to protect it from anyone who might dare to come near to it?

Dwelling on this does no good, either. Staring forward, he cycles through the same hundreds of Pokémon facts he has always relied on when there was nothing else pleasant to turn his mind to, determined to push all thoughts of Ash from his head for as long as he possibly can.

He staunchly refuses to message Ash for anything, let alone a time and place to meet up, so instead he guides them to the Pokémon Centre to just wait out the moment when Ash comes to find him for once. A part of him tries to argue that Ash has found him more times than anyone else—but every other part immediately shuts it down, reminding him: If he really cared, he wouldn’t have gone to Dewford without me in the first place.

Unfortunately, he quickly runs out of Pokémon facts to keep himself occupied as he sits near the entrance of the Pokémon Centre waiting for the door to open. In an instant, it becomes unbearable; he is too warm, he is too restless, he has better things to do than sit around here waiting for someone he isn’t even sure really will show up.

With only a glance back at Nurse Joy, who offers him a smile in return, he rises and leaves the Pokémon Centre again. A walk will clear his head, or at least waste enough time until he reaches a point where he can definitively say Ash won’t bother finding him after all. But the farther from the Pokémon Centre they get, the more agitated he—and the Pokémon, he has to admit—become. The sun shines happily above their heads; locals and tourists mill about, chatting in upbeat tones. Once or twice, Goh even overhears them talking about the upcoming triathlon, and all at once he is filled again with an unseemly rage. No matter where he turns, the reminder of Ash remains. How is that fair? How is any of this fair?

Plusle, it would seem, feels the same way, for by the time they are looping back around to retrace their steps to the Pokémon Centre, it is calling up to him angrily: “Plu! Plu!”

He comes to a halt to look down at it, seeing that it’s supporting Minun with one arm. It looks exhausted, not unlike when Goh first met it under the bridge. With a pang of guilt, he kneels down in front of them.

“I didn’t realize we’d walked so much,” he admits. “Minun, why don’t I carry you the rest of the way?”

Plusle stamps its feet and puffs out its cheeks at him, much like it did yesterday in the market. Braced for an explosion, Goh waits. But before it can come, Minun lets out a soft cry, discharging electricity to Plusle and, all at once, it stops. Takes a deep breath, and pulls away from Minun so that Goh can scoop it up. As he does, he sees that Plusle is trembling: It’s hurt from Minun’s attack.

“I’ll carry you, too, Plusle.”

It looks up at him with wide eyes. “Plu?”

“Here.” Carefully, he guides Minun on to one of his shoulders, and then leans down again to hold a hand out for Plusle to crawl up on. It eyes him uncertainly, but then, slowly, it limps forward and climbs up his arm, coming up on to his other shoulder. A few feet ahead of them, Grookey stands in wait, looking curiously over its shoulder. As Goh catches its gaze, it turns again and points to something farther down the road with its stick.

Not something, Goh realizes. Someone, and two of them. Ash and May, heading in the direction of the Pokémon Centre. They’re facing the wrong way; they haven’t seen Goh yet.

Unbidden, his hands curl into shaking fists at his sides. As he pushes himself up to stand again, all those unpleasant emotions coiling in his gut spring to life anew. With more purpose than he has had all day, he stalks forward, past Grookey, to get to them.

But as he approaches, Ash must hear him, because he turns around. He smiles brightly. “Goh! You made it!”

And normally, it would be enough. The way he says Goh’s name, like he really, truly cares to see him. But this time, it sinks venomous teeth into Goh’s skin, seeps into his bloodstream and tightens the coil of rage in his chest. Fists clenched so tightly they tremble at his sides, he demands, “What did you think I was going to do? Just leave, like you did? I came here for you, not that you seem to have remembered that!”

Ash just blinks, confused. “What? I didn’t think—”

“Forget it,” Goh seethes. “You don’t even care. I never wanted to be a part of this stupid triathlon to begin with, and now you can spend the time with the person you’d rather spend it with anyway.”

As he makes to turn away, Ash reaches out to grab him by the wrist. In an instant, he whirls around again, white-hot anger all but obscuring his view of Ash. He yanks his hand back, so forcefully that Minun stumbles off his shoulder and falls to the ground with a pained cry. Goh barely hears it.

“Don’t touch me!” he shouts. “Just leave me alone! I hate you!”

Ash’s eyes flash. But just when Goh thinks he might shout back at him, he doesn’t. He kneels down, and reaches out to Minun.

Just as his hand brushes against it, though, Plusle gives an outraged cry and jumps off of Goh’s other shoulder. It grabs Minun by the hand—and releases a Discharge using their combined energy. It hits Ash square in the chest, knocking him back; with a sickening crack, his head connects with concrete.

“Ash!”

“Pikapi!”

As May and Pikachu surge forward to help him, all Goh can do is stare in horror. Plusle stands in front of him, defensively. Even now, Minun looks up at him with a trusting, albeit tearful, gaze. They only wanted to protect him.

But Ash is not getting up.

Kneeling down beside him, May suddenly turns a glare on Goh. “Hey! If you’re going to be that thing’s Trainer, you need to figure out how to control it!”

“I—I didn’t—” Heart in his throat, he takes a step back. As he does, Plusle appears to falter. It looks back at last, and something like recognition flickers in its gaze. For a moment, it stands frozen in place. And then, raw emotion alighting in its eyes, it bolts.

On the other side of Ash, Pikachu looks up at Goh, too. Guilt flooding through him, he stoops down at last to pick Minun up again, and then turns on his heel to chase after Plusle. As he goes, he hears May shouting after him: “Goh! Where are you going?! Ash needs help!”

There is no point in turning back, to make her understand that Ash would not need help in the first place if it weren’t for Goh. Neither would there be a point in explaining that he needs to find Plusle, that, if he doesn’t, that look in its eyes before it darted away will haunt him for the rest of his life, as surely as the harm they have inflicted on Ash will. If he cannot change what damage he has already done, then at least maybe he can do this.

He runs until his lungs begin to sear, until he realizes that it is not exertion but emotion that makes them ache so fiercely. But even once he allows his steps to slow, he doesn’t stop moving—as far away from Ash and May as he can get, as surely as Plusle has done. As he walks, he wraps his arms over his chest, folding his hands against his biceps. The pressure alone is not enough to redirect the searing pain from his chest; he digs his fingernails into his skin, with so much weight his fingers begin to ache from the force of it. Minun struggles out of his hold, balancing cautiously on one of his arms.

At last, he comes to a complete stop, staring down at it as it puffs up its cheeks and discharges an electric charge. It goes deeper than the stab of Goh’s nails, a sharp sting that has him gasping in shock. But as the pain washes over him, so, too, does the sense of relief he has been craving. He breathes in, and, for the first time since Plusle attacked Ash, his lungs inflate without pain.

He begins to walk once more, head clearer than before. Each time the feeling tries to come back to him and his fingernails begin to bite against his skin, Minun delivers another shock to him.

They find Plusle at last in a park near the centre of the city. By now, the sun has begun its descent toward the horizon, painting the foliage violently in red. But Minun is looking for its partner too closely to miss the sounds of distress ringing out from the base of a tree a few metres off the path into the path. Minun climbs slowly down Goh’s body, using his clothes to help it. When it lands on the ground again, it begins to walk with a distinct limp, clearly hurt from its earlier fall. But determination compels it onward to Plusle. Even from a distance, the tremble wracking its frame is all too obvious.

As they approach, Goh understands why: it’s bleeding from a wound on its paw.

Before he can even really register what has happened, Goh finds himself in tears right alongside Plusle. They are ugly, heavy things, leaving him gasping desperately for breath. With shaky legs, he slides down to the ground beside Plusle, who lets out a pathetic “Plu,” and crawls toward him. Minun climbs up on his lap after it, and, for some reason, this only makes Goh cry harder.

What was he thinking? He does not hate Ash, not really. Even when it feels like he does, even when he wants to—Ash was the first person to ever reach out to him. The first person to ever care for him. Shouldn’t that mean something? Doesn’t that mean something?

But no matter how deeply Goh cares for him, there is no hope that Ash will forgive him for this. He has already given Goh too much grace. This time, he will see it as clearly as Goh always has: there is something wrong with him. Something that makes him impossible to love. His parents have seen it. Chloe, and her family, have seen it. For months now, Goh has told himself that Ash is different, that maybe it is not something intrinsic to him after all, that, with Ash, it may even be something he can outgrow.

Clearly, he was wrong.

He chokes desperately on his sobs, unable to make any of this stop. Minun grabs his hand and shocks him again, to no avail. He can barely even feel it, can barely feel anything except this deep, drowning despair. He shakes it off, taking his hands to his head to grab at his hair and pull, hard, as if this could be enough, as if this could possibly distract him from how much he hates himself, from how much he wishes he could just die, rather than ever have to face what he has done to Ash, what he has done to their friendship. He has no one else. He will never have anyone else. He will be this way forever, will die the only way he has ever known how to be: completely and utterly alone.

How long they go on like this, he could not say. But eventually, he runs out of tears. Eventually, his rapid breaths even out again, leaving him lethargic in the wake of his expounding emotions.

What does it matter, really? It’s true; he’ll be alone again. But isn’t he better off alone anyway? Hasn’t he always been better off alone? He does not need Ash. He does not need anybody. He never has.

Maybe this is all for the best. If he had gone on like this, he only would have grown more attached to Ash, and then what? He would rely too much on him. He would ask too much of him, and be smothered in return. No, Goh has dreams of his own, and he can’t let his care for any other person dictate his achievement of them.

At last, chest searing with pain, he drops his gaze down to Plusle and Minun. Plusle has stopped crying, too, and is now curled up in his lap nursing its injured paw. As he watches its chest rise and fall, he understands that this is not a wound done to it by any other. This is the consequence of its own bitter rage, its inability to release it in any way other than hurting others, or itself.

And Minun—poor, poor Minun, terrified to be left alone. Even now, it grasps at Goh’s sleeve, as if he might get up and leave it behind. As if even Plusle might abandon it, after everything they have been through together.

For the first time since he found them on the side of the cycling road, Goh sees them exactly as they are: an unbalanced push-pull, the need for vulnerability warring with an unceasing fear of it. Every action they have taken, a response to it: begging for attention, for comfort, and in the next moment restless to get away from it. Their anger, their sadness, too large to grapple with, and so they have found him, have asked him to grapple with it for them.

But he does not know how to. His own rage comes and goes in furious tides, leaves him breathless and afraid, and alone. When sadness wells within him, he does everything he can to choke it down, to make it just stop… Even if it means hurting himself. Even if it means hurting someone he loves. It is so much more bearable, in the moment, than acknowledging the way his chest opens up to set his bounding heart into excruciating motion.

It is a realization as devastating as it is sobering. He wants to help them. He promised he would. If he can do nothing else, doesn’t he owe them this? All the comfort and security they need?

Before he can follow that thought through to its frightening conclusion—the one that suggests he, too, needs comfort and security—his phone begins to ring:

“Incoming call from Ash! Incoming call from Ash! Incoming—”

And though it hurts, though it is hard, he knows what he has to do.

He takes a deep breath, and accepts the call.

“Goh?” Ash’s voice sounds strange on the other side of the line. It takes a moment for him to realize that it is not because of Ash, but because of him; the roaring in his ears threatens to drown him out completely.

But for Plusle’s and Minun’s sakes, he swallows back the lump in his throat and croaks out, “Are you okay?”

“Well…we dunno yet.” Ash laughs a bit. “I only feel a little nauseous, but Nurse Joy says we have to keep an eye on it anyway, ‘cause sometimes it takes a while for head injuries to show symptoms…”

All over again, Goh’s eyes well with tears, but he bites back the compulsion to hang up the phone.

“I’m so sorry, Ash.”

“May said you went after Plusle. Is it okay?”

He cuts himself off with a gasping exhale, then sets his jaw and determinedly tells himself he cannot cry over this, nor can he run away. Of course Ash will not accept his apology. He is not even sure he would want him to.

“Goh?”

“I-it’s okay,” he manages, at last. “It hurt itself, but it’s sleeping now.”

“You should bring it to the Pokémon Centre to get checked out. And Grookey’s here with us too. I think it’s worried about you.”

A tear slips down his cheek. Hurriedly, he lifts a hand to scrub it away.

“Ash,” he starts, then stops, wincing, as he registers how upset he sounds.

There’s silence, for a long moment, until Ash finally says, “I’m gonna be here, you know. Promise.”

It’s enough to make the tears flow in earnest again, though he wishes, sorely, that it were not. Of course Ash will be at the Pokémon Centre. He has nowhere else to go right now. He won’t be able to participate in the triathlon with a head injury anyway. He must despise Goh for this, too—just one more thing he has taken from him.

Though he tries to conceal them, his sobs must carry through to Ash anyway, for after a beat he asks again, “Goh?”

“I—I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I don’t hate you, I’m sorry. P-please, I just— I can’t—”

But each attempt only worsens the weight of his sobs. He presses the heel of his free hand against his chest, willing it to rise and fall more slowly.

“Is that what you’re upset about?” Ash pauses, and then: “I’m not mad, y’know.”

“You should be!”

“Says who?” Ash retorts. “I’m not mad at you or at Plusle. And it kinda sounds like Plusle’s not the only one who needs help right now. So? Where are you? If you aren’t gonna come here yourself, I’ll come to you.”

“Y-you can’t,” Goh protests. “You’re on a concussion watch!”

“Yeah, but I feel fine enough, so—”

“Just—stop.” Goh’s breath hitches. He takes a few seconds to wrest it back into a passably steady rhythm, and then says, “I’m coming, okay? B-but not for me. For Plusle.”

“I don’t care what the reason is, Goh. I just wanna know for sure you’re both okay.”

They’re not, Goh wants to say. Plusle has passed out from its exhaustion, and Goh doesn’t feel too far behind it, if he’s being honest. The sun has set by now. Even if he could bring himself to truly want to avoid Ash, he wouldn’t be able to. There’s nowhere left for him to run.

He has to face this, even though the idea of it makes him want to throw up—or perhaps something more drastic. It’s not a new thought, exactly; but it has been a long time since it has bombarded him with such intensity. It would be easier than going back to Ash, now or ever. He would not have to do this again. He would not hurt anybody else.

But, then, what would happen to Plusle and Minun? They trust him, even if he does not understand why. To leave them like this, to ask them to open up to someone else—it would be unthinkable. He could not bear to hurt them like that, either.

He doesn’t realize his tears have started up again until he hears Ash sigh on the other side of the phone. His voice is far too gentle, far too kind, after everything Goh has done to him: “How far away are you? Let’s stay on the phone while you walk, ‘kay?”

It’s so unfair, and, the worst part is, Ash doesn’t even realize it. Didn’t Goh already tell him he was leaving? And yet, here he is—pulling him back, when he really ought to be washing his hands of him.

“I don’t know how far I am,” he mutters. As he reaches down to carefully lift each of the two injured Pokémon up, one by one, on to his shoulders, he adds, “You shouldn’t bother. You hit your head really hard…”

“I’m resting,” Ash insists. “Nurse Joy says I shouldn’t sleep yet anyway, ‘til we can be sure I’m not really hurt.”

“You are really hurt, Ash. And I— It’s because I—”

“No,” Ash says firmly. “Let’s just focus on getting to the Pokémon Centre, ‘kay?”

Guilt washes over him anew. There’s a sense of finality in Ash’s tone, which tells Goh exactly what it needs to: We’ll talk about it later.

There’s no way around it. Ash is upset with him, no matter what he’s saying now to get Goh to bring Plusle and Minun to the Pokémon Centre. When Goh gets to the Pokémon Centre, this will all come crashing down around him. Maybe Ash and May will both tell him how badly he screwed up, how awful he is, how much he doesn’t deserve to call himself Ash’s friend. Ash will tell him, in no uncertain terms, that he’s done with this. And that’s not fair, either—because Goh was the one to try to get away first, but Ash grabbed his hand to pull him back. In a way, doesn’t that make all of this Ash’s fault?

There is nothing else he can do, though. With his heart sunk down into the pits of his stomach, he rises, and begins the trek back to the Pokémon Centre. He and Ash don’t speak on the way—perhaps because Ash couldn’t possibly say anything to him now that would do anything but prove how deeply he must hate him—but Goh resolutely keeps the phone to his ear the whole way anyway. Just in case Ash says something. Just in case he gives him a sign to turn around now and give up on all of this completely.

It doesn’t come. By the time he’s coming up to the Pokémon Centre, his breathing is ragged again, but, still, Ash says nothing. It’s only the way Minun clings to his shoulder and lets out a despondent, “Min…” as they approach that encourages Goh to step through the door.

As he does, he ends the call at last. But he does not need to search for long to find Ash and May, who are sitting in a darkened corner of the lobby with two steaming bowls set between them. Nearby, Grookey and Pikachu are both eating, too.

Goh’s throat closes up as Ash looks up and spots him. Eyes filling with tears again, he turns away and makes for the counter, instead, to greet Nurse Joy.

“Hello,” she says, kindly. As if she does not know everything that has happened. As if she cannot see the stain of guilt spelled so violently across his visage. “How can I help you?”

“My Pokémon are hurt,” Goh says quietly. “Minun took a fall, and Plusle…”

At its name, the Pokémon stirs from where it has been dozing on his shoulder. It looks up with wide, wet eyes. Goh blinks hard, and drops his gaze down to his hands, curled into shaking fists atop the counter.

“I think it hurt itself,” he whispers. “I don’t know how.”

“I see.” Nurse Joy pauses, and then asks, “Will they let me evaluate them?”

With a nod, Goh reaches up to scoop Minun into his hands, lowering it down to the counter. Plusle comes after, trembling with fear.  They both look up at Goh, eyes wide and frightened. At once, his voice fails him.

“They seem very anxious,” Nurse Joy remarks. “Sometimes, having their Trainer around during a check-up can do a stressed Pokémon a lot of good. Would you like to come into the examination room?”

“I…” Goh glances over his shoulder, toward Ash and May. They’re both watching him, but he cannot hope to glean their expressions from this far away. Swallowing hard, he turns back around and tells Nurse Joy, “Okay. I’ll stay with them.”

She smiles. “That’s great. Then, why don’t you carry them back with us? That might make them more comfortable than wheeling them in!”

He cups his hands, allowing Plusle and Minun to climb up again, and then brings them close to his chest, right against his pounding heart. As they go, he cannot quite help looking back at Ash again, registering the way his eyes follow their pathway to the door leading to the examination rooms. It’s short-lived, though, for within mere seconds, the door has closed between them, and all that is left is Plusle and Minun, and Nurse Joy.

Neither of them protests when he guides them on to the examination table, though he gets the sense they want to. Perhaps they are simply too tired to; resigned to the fact that they do not have any control, anymore, over what may or may not happen to them now.

Nurse Joy and her Chansey treat them with a quiet, compassionate care. Their movements are slow and measured; before each action she takes, she explains to the Pokémon what she is doing, though Goh is certain neither of them fully understands it.

Finally, their wounds dressed, they both begin to doze off. Nurse Joy turns a soft smile on Goh, and tells him, “They’ll both be okay with a little rest.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“Why don’t we let them sleep a while here?” Nurse Joy suggests. “Chansey can let us know if they wake up, but it’s better for their healing if we don’t disturb them too much now that they’re resting. And I’m sure you could use a meal, yourself.”

Maybe she knows more than she’s letting on. He dares not ask, merely nods and allows her to guide him out of the examination room. Once they are back in the lobby, she tells him, “Go join your friends. I’ll bring you a bowl of soup.”

Before he can work his mouth around a response, she has turned and disappeared behind the counter again. All he can do is stand and stare after her, his feet too leaden to move.

But he doesn’t need to. Grookey is the first to approach, bounding over to him and hitting its stick demandingly against his leg. As if on autopilot, he kneels down to stroke its head; it leans against his touch with a pleased purr.

At the sound of unsteady footsteps, Goh forces himself to look up to see Ash walking toward him. Behind him, May and Pikahu are sat at the table, just watching. Waiting.

Cold emotion washes over Goh’s skin. As if burned, he pulls his hand away from Grookey and crosses his arms defensively over his chest. When he stands again, Ash comes to a halt—not close enough to touch, but not so far away that Goh could miss the way, even now, his face is tensed with pain.

“Are Plusle and Minun okay?” he asks after a moment.

Guardedly, Goh nods.

A pause, and then—

“Are you okay?”

His nails bite into his skin, hard. Suddenly, he yearns to have Minun’s electric shocks back. Something, anything, to distract from the desire to burst into tears, to get on his knees and beg for Ash to forgive him.

He sets his jaw, but his determination not to cry can only carry him so far. If he were to open his mouth now, he has no doubt all that would tumble out would be the sob building up in his throat. But if this is it, then he is not about to give Ash the satisfaction of reducing him to tears over it.

Ash’s lips twitch, grimly. “Guessing that’s a no, huh?”

His resolve snaps, so instantly and so neatly his knees nearly buckle with the force of it. Angrily, he lifts a hand to scrub at the tears spilling down either side of his face, and snaps, “Just get it over with already.”

“Get what over with?”

“Tell me how much you hate me.” Goh sniffles. His scowl deepens. “Plusle attacked you because I wanted to hurt you. E-even now, I…”

“You don’t really wanna hurt me,” Ash says confidently.

“I do! I want to hurt you the way you hurt me! Y-you left me behind, and I didn’t even—I didn’t—”

He cuts off, gasping, as Ash reaches out for one of his hands, prying it away from where his nails have embedded into his skin. Before Goh can try to pull away, Ash intertwines their fingers, and offers him a smile.

“Goh,” he says, in that earnest, loving Ash way of his. All it does is make Goh cry even more, but Ash doesn’t move. Doesn’t try to pull him closer; doesn’t try to get away from him. He just stands there and holds Goh’s hand, as if it is the most natural thing in the world. As if reaching out can ever really be this easy.

The emotion tides over him, pulls him down in its miserable embrace, but the anchor of Ash’s hand keeps him in place in spite of it all. Ash, his first and best friend. The person he loves more than any other. The reason he can find it in himself to keep going every single day, to strive for his goals, to smile and laugh and see all the beauty in this world they walk together. Where would he be without him? He would not even be able to find himself amidst all the turmoil that churns his gut when Ash is not there to remind him to look away from it.

And eventually, it ebbs again, as it always does. When he blinks the tears from his eyes for the last time, Ash is still there—a little unsteady on his feet, but with a strong hold on him, a steely glint in his eyes that Goh knows well to mean he is not about to give up now.

“I’m sorry,” Goh chokes out. “I’m really, really sorry.”

“If I’d known you wanted me to stay,” Ash tells him, “I woulda stayed. I mean it.”

“That’s not—that’s not fair.”

“That’s not really up to you to decide,” Ash points out. “You gotta trust me when I say I wanna help. Why would I offer if I didn’t?”

“You shouldn’t have to help. I… I just…”

As he trails off, Ash squeezes his hand. His chest stutters painfully with the weight of it.

“My head kinda really hurts,” he allows. “And Nurse Joy says I can’t take part in the triathlon, ‘cause it could be dangerous for me. But it’s not about competing, y’know. It’s about—the three of us getting to do it together. Isn’t that why we came here?”

“No,” Goh mutters. “It’s not. Not for me.”

“No?”

“I just—I didn’t want you to leave me behind.”

“I’m not gonna leave you behind. We’re friends.”

Goh’s heart leaps up into his throat. Perhaps Ash feels the twitch of his hand, because then he adds, “It was an accident, so I don’t really think you owe me any apologies anyway, but…I forgive you. I still wanna be friends. And I know you do, too.”

The words drive a stinging sensation against Goh’s cheeks. “I…” He stops. Swallows. Thinks of Plusle and Minun, reaching out to him. Thinks of the way Plusle looked at him after attacking Ash, of the way Minun clung to him in spite of what he had done to it in the face of his own fury. More than anything, he wants to help them.

But he can’t do it alone.

“I still wanna be friends too,” he admits. “If you’ll let me.”

Ash grins at him. “Didn’t I just say I would?”

He lets out an awkward puff of laughter. “Yeah, I guess you did.”

“C’mon,” Ash urges him, tugging on the hand still held in his. “Nurse’s Joy’s soup is the best, you’re gonna love it.”

During the course of their conversation, Nurse Joy must have brought another bowl of soup to the table for him. When Ash drags him over, May pushes it forward with an awkward smile.

“How’s Plusle?” she asks.

Goh can’t meet her eyes. He looks at his hand still held in Ash’s and mutters, “It was pretty upset.”

“Oh. Is it…hurt?”

Goh opens his mouth, then shuts it again and shrugs noncommittally instead.

“I’m sure it’ll be okay after it gets some rest,” Ash says brightly. “Let’s eat!”

His cheerful attitude is enough to melt the tension between Goh and May, at least for now. She tactfully doesn’t comment on the fact that Goh can’t quite make himself let go of Ash’s hand, even when they both apply themselves to eating, or after Ash is only able to eat a few spoonfuls before pushing the bowl away and admitting he is simply too nauseous to continue. When he tenses at that, Ash squeezes his hand and offers him a reassuring, if strained, smile.

Before either Ash or May can say anything, their table is approached by Chansey, who grabs at Goh’s sleeve and gives it a gentle tug. He turns, surprised, to see it smiling at him.

“Plusle and Minun must be awake,” he says, in response to May peering curiously over his shoulder at Chansey.

“Oh,” she says. “That’s good, right?”

He nods, and then pauses. His gaze falls down to his hand still held in Ash’s, before sliding hesitantly up to his eyes: as warm and compassionate as they were the day they met, despite everything.

“You should go,” Ash encourages. “Nurse Joy told me to let her know if I started feeling sick, anyway, so I should go let her check it out.” For emphasis, he takes his free hand and raps his knuckles against the side of his head. Even this seems to be too much, though, for he winces before flashing Goh a bashful smile.

“I—I’ll come right back,” Goh says tightly. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Of course!” Ash says, at the same time as May assures him, “I’ll be looking out for him, too!”

After everything, Goh just doesn’t have it in himself to feel jealous. He just ducks his head, and nods minutely.

At last, he extracts his hand from Ash’s. But as he stands to follow Chansey back to the examination room, Ash’s voice stops him cold:

“Goh.”

Breath caught in his throat, he turns to face his friend, who smiles at him. He says, “I’m not gonna leave you.”

Goh swallows thickly. “I—I know,” he croaks, and he is not sure whether or not it is the truth, but in this moment, he wants to believe that, maybe, it could be.

Ash’s eyes brighten. With a heavy, aching heart, Goh tries his best to return his smile, and then turns around to follow Chansey back to Plusle and Minun.

When they enter the examination room, Nurse Joy is there doing one last check over them. When she notices Goh, she looks up with a reassuring smile.

“They’re okay,” she tells him. “I’ll leave them to you, okay? And…if you ever need help, don’t hesitate to find me.”

“I… Thank you so much. For everything.”

She glances over at Plusle and Minun, who are sat beside each other on the examination table looking up with wide, curious eyes. When her gaze finds Goh’s again, it is understanding.

“It’s my job,” she says. “Come on, Chansey.”

With that, the two of them leave the room again, only the echoes of their kindness remaining. Drawing in a deep, steeling breath, Goh turns to face Plusle and Minun at last.

“I don’t know if I’m really the right person to help you,” he says. “Maybe you’d be better off with another Trainer. Someone who can help you manage all your…all your big feelings, and how easily you get hurt by things, and by each other.” He stops, taking in another sharp breath as they both cock their heads at him, confusion bordering on upset clouding their gazes. In spite of how it stabs at his heart, he ploughs on: “But even if I’m not sure if I could ever be that Trainer for you, I…I want to try. If you’ll let me, that is.”

With a trembling hand, he reaches into his pocket for a Ball, which he enlarges and holds out to Plusle with bated breath. It looks at it for a long moment, and then lifts its gaze up to Goh. Briefly, emotion brightens its eyes, and then—resolve, trust, and, beneath it all, understanding. If they want to have any hope of getting through this, they must learn to operate in tandem. To work together, even when it stands in diametrical opposition to Minun. Even when Goh is caught between them, pulled to both extremes all at once.

He sees the way it inhales, its small chest expanding with the weight of all its determination to change. To be okay, even if it means letting someone else take care of it.

It reaches forward, and taps the button. In a shower of red and white, it is transported into the Ball, which shakes once, twice, three times in Goh’s hand, and then goes still.

He lets out a shaky breath. With more calm than he has felt since they met on the bridge, he pushes the button to let Plusle out of the Ball. It comes to stand beside its partner, helping it to stand up. Without a word, Goh reaches down to lift them both into his hands again.

They crawl up on to his shoulders, heavy, reassuring weights on either side of him. Together, the three of them leave the examination room to reunite with Ash and May. To face the consequences of their actions, to accept them, and, Goh can only hope, to move on from them, as one.