Archive of Our Own

I still remember the day Red got diagnosed.

It was a really nice day. It was sunny, unlike the usual weather in Kanto, and the skies were clear. Waking up to the warmth cast over my face was so lovely that my spirits soared straight away.

I had cereal for breakfast. I had cereal for breakfast every morning back then. Even though it tastes like trash. A soft gleam filtered through the kitchen window and I ate slowly in the faint light, languid and bored. When I finished the bowl I leaned back in the chair and stared outside, trying to convince myself that I should stay in the house.

In the end, the pleasantness of the weather won. I put my bowl in the sink and headed back up to change.

My old blue camisole didn’t fit me anymore. I turned around a few times in front of the mirror, trying to figure out when I had gotten so tall. Outgrowing it came as a shock, and I thought, sharply, I hate this.

I put something else on, tugged on my shoes and locked the door behind me as I left, the worst thoughts in my mind the self-complacency I had.

Meeting Lance was not on the agenda for the day. Although, I didn’t have much of an agenda. After all that excitement about how agreeable the conditions were, I ended up wandering the department store in Celadon. On the second floor, I disinterestedly filed through a shelf of TMs, without plans for buying.

I wouldn’t call myself a perceptive person, but I did notice Lance before he noticed me. To be fair, it’s hard exactly to miss Lance, partially because it is Lance and partially because he walks around in that comically enormous black cape.

I saw him storm into the store, looking thunderous, and quickly ducked my head. Like if we made eye contact, he’d skip over in whimsy, ecstatic to see me. An unlikely scenario. I’d never made it into a fifty-kilometre radius of the Indigo Plateau and Lance had better things to do than strike up conversations with random women.

Even so, I developed a sudden fascination for the TM in front of me. Those new TMs were a lot more durable than the ones I was familiar with using. And, mind you, so much more expensive. I saw the sticker with the price and almost shrieked. The tap on my shoulder made me actually shriek.

I whirled around. “Sorry to scare you.” Numbly, I blinked, face-to-face with Lance. “Are you Leaf, by any chance?”

Wasn’t that unbelievable? How did Lance, that’s right, dragon tamer Lance, uber big celebrity mystic talented crazily famous Fabu-Lance, know me? I considered saying no and making a break for it, but in good conscience, I didn’t think I could outright lie to Lance’s face. “Er… yeah. That’s me.” My hand fluttered to my hair, which I hadn’t been bothered enough to style. This I began regretting.

“I’m glad I ran into you,” he said, and I grew sceptical. As established, I had never met this man in my life. “You’re friends with Red, right?”

“Yeah,” I said slowly, wondering where he was taking this.

“By any chance, have you seen him recently?” he asked. “He was absent from our meeting yesterday. He hasn’t been picking up my calls, either, so I was worried about him.”

I was about to assure Lance, that, yes, of course, I saw him just—

The smile that was reflexively spreading across my face disintegrated. When had I last seen Red? A month ago, or something like that, I’d run into him in the middle of the night, on the way to the bathroom. Lumbering blindly, I saw a silhouette across the corridor. I was about to recite some invented prayer before I recognised Red, fully dressed, Pikachu by his feet. The Pokémon squeaked and I realised that it must have been closer to sunrise than I’d originally struck it to be. Pikachu’s round cheeks were clear in my mind, but when I tried to envision Red, I found his face blurring.

It had been a while.

“Oh, no, sorry,” I said lightly, as I fingered the strap of my shoulder bag. “I haven’t seen him.” 

As damning as I was, Lance didn’t convict me. “That’s alright. I’ll stop by the Viridian Gym then, maybe Blue’s seen him. Ah, I’ll give you my number. If you do end up catching him, please let me know.”

“Oh, okay, give me one second,” I said, pretending like I got phone numbers from celebrities every day of the week. I rummaged through my bag, wincing. “I think I left my phone at home. Sorry.” I looked up at him. “Is it okay if I write it down on my hand?”

How embarrassing! I wanted to die right then and there and spoke in an attempt to recover myself, but if Lance had agreed, I’d be even more embarrassed because I didn’t have a pen with me, either.

Thankfully, Lance saved me the humiliation. Instead, he offered to drop me home, which was an offer I only had the cadence to Wishiwashi-ly refuse twice. I was soon in the skies, riding with the legendary Lance on his legendary Dragonite.

It was very much a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Sitting behind him, I felt that although I was not a Lance fan, I should at least consider becoming one, since he had a great deal of admirable qualities. Like how when I told him I lived in Pallet Town, he responded with, “You live in Pallet Town too?” and directed his Dragonite there effortlessly. People don’t even know of Pallet, let alone where it is. So that was pretty praiseworthy.

Shame hit me as we landed outside my house. Exploiting a celebrity’s goodwill was just crass. I didn’t know how many times to apologise so I stumbled over a billion sorrys until Lance had to cut me off. 

“It’s really fine.” He made a small bow, which I instantly one-upped by springing into a deeper bow. “If you could do me a small favour—”

“Yes!” I said, too eager. 

“Uh…” Still courteous, he said gingerly, “I was wondering if you knew where Red lives? I was thinking I might check if he’s home.”

“Oh, Red lives with us,” I said automatically. 

This was something I was familiar with and it seemed natural to me. Thinking back on it, I guess it would've sounded weird.

But all Lance said was, “I see,” not questioning it. Another admirable quality.

Have you seen him recently?

Thus, my answer becomes ten times more problematic. You’ll have to hear me out. 

There is a dinner table at my house. Not anything revolutionary. I’m sure you have a dinner table too. How many seats does your table have? Most people have six. We only have a teeny-tiny table, which was just enough for the four of us to squeeze in, that is, Red, Blue, Mum and me. It was squishy, but the table was full and I looked forward to sitting down for dinner together.

But that was years ago. These days Mum’s always abroad with work and Blue’s out with friends most of the time. Red was hardly ever home. He was always out, training like a machine. So I never ran into him.

I knew he wasn't Champion for nothing, but he really was something else. Steadfast and undeterrable. 

The last seat was mine. And I was how I was. So the table stayed empty. It’s silly, I know. Four of us belonging to one house, and yet it was like we lived in four different worlds.

I took too long finding my keys and then too long trying to unlock my door. After enough fiddling it finally clicked open and I all but fumbled to step inside.

I walked to the kitchen counter without taking my shoes off, where my phone laid, tantalising. Great. Annoyed with myself, I picked it up.

“You know what? I can call Red and see where he is,” I offered to Lance, opening up my contacts.

“You can try. He didn’t pick up this morning.”

I stared absently at my Favourites list before I realised Red hadn’t been added. I instead found him under the regular names and rang his number, not expecting him to pick up.

Red did have a phone but it might as well not have existed, because he never used it. Blue and I gave him one in the case of an emergency, and half-hopeful he would start texting to get across to us. Neither happened. It was the most pointless thing we’d done, because if we called him it was just a one-sided conversation of us yelling at him and if we texted him we were left on read. Sometimes when he was feeling accommodating he’d send a thumbs-up after seeing our message. The most generous he’d been was with an ok. It could be incredibly infuriating.

I was surprised to hear the tinkering of a ringtone from upstairs. It was the tinny, default one, proof that Red did not use his phone, ever.

My initial reaction was appal. “He’s actually left his phone at home. That guy… sorry Lance, let me go turn it off.”

I scampered up the stairs into the corridor. All the bedrooms were on the left. I took a right, to the attic, where Red had lived since he was six. Hearing footsteps behind me, I turned around to see Lance following.

Together, we swept up the little stairs of the attic. I threw open the door and marched over to the dresser where the phone was ringing. “Ugh, so annoying,” I muttered, picking it up to turn off the ringtone. My number was still unregistered on Red’s phone, which pissed me off even more. Seriously…

I was thinking that he was probably the least reliable Champion in history, but I had no plan of defending him to Lance, feeling as if he deserved the spoiled honour. I was even ready to throw some extra shade on him, when Lance wandered over to the bed I walked past to switch the phone off.

A distinct shape huddled under the covers, which I’d failed to notice before. 

I picked past the scattered things on the floor to stand next to Lance. “Red?” I said loudly, mostly to announce myself.

I peered at the black crown poking out of the blankets. My hand hovered above him, debating whether I should wake him up. Gently, I brushed his shoulder, then jumped back in horror. 

He was burning hot. 

Everything happened way too fast after that. With Red’s dangerous temperature and lapsing consciousness, Lance wasted no time to spur into action, contacting emergency services and disappearing to locate a cloth he could use to sponge Red’s forehead. His movements were smooth, certain, working methodically and immaculately. He knew exactly what to do. 

As for me, I was overtook with dizziness and frozen into place for the whole time. That was the help I had been. Lance had to guide me into the ambulance with him, where a paramedics officer tended to Red.

My phone was probably ringing for a while before I realised it. Bleakly, I accepted the call and Blue’s irritated voice crackled from the other end. “Hey, how come you haven’t been answering my phone calls? I’m trying my best to keep in touch, since you’re clearly not. The least you can do is friggin’ pick up.”

Trying to muster words, I stammered, hoarsely “B-Blue… Red…”

His name made Blue perk up. “Huh? What about him?”

I didn’t know what to say. “He’s sick.” 

Blue continued, a jeer seeping into his voice. “Oh, are you with him? Put him on the phone. Let me talk to him,” he pressed. 

“No, you can’t.”

“Hey, come on, I’ll say something nice,” he laughed.

“No,” I repeated. “You actually can’t. He’s not conscious.”

There was silence for a moment. “Shit, what? Is it that bad?” When Blue spoke again, all humour from his voice had vanished. 

“We’re going to the hospital in an ambulance. It’s pretty bad.”

“When you said he was sick, I didn’t know you meant he was sick sick.” There was shuffling on the other side. “Where’re you headed?”

I had to ask Lance. “Viridian Hospital.”

“Gotcha. Hang tight.” He ended the call.

When we got to the hospital, Red was whisked away and Lance and I were left to the waiting area. I know that people start pacing around when they’re worried, but I was so tense that I couldn’t even do that, just stiffly sat down and didn’t move, didn’t move and hoped everything was going to be okay.

Lance was the opposite. Darting from one place to the other, he stopped every staff member he could find to speak to them sternly. He was basically unruffled.

I couldn’t wrap my head around how he managed to stay so put together in a situation like this. Back at my place, and now here in the hospital—he exhibited flawless responsibility.

If not for Lance, I couldn’t be sure that I’d be able to get Red to the hospital. If not for Lance, I might not even have thought about checking up on Red.

A chill slid down my spine. If Lance hadn’t stopped me in Celadon City, Red could’ve died in that bed. Quietly, in the rotting attic, and it would’ve been a week until we found him, but only because of the smell.

All because I stopped eating at our tiny dinner table, Red would have disappeared. 

Eventually Lance came over to sit beside me. “I spoke with the doctors. He’s being treated in the ER.” My trembling made him tack on, “Don’t worry. Apparently his condition’s stable. His temperature’s under forty, so it’s nothing serious. He’s only moderately dehydrated.”

I could only murmur faint acknowledgement I’d heard him. Shame was coursing through my body. Lance was probably thinking how I was stupid, so, so stupid, not knowing what was going on in my own house. 

“Red’s strong, Leaf.” A low rumble from Lance. Even his voice was dependable, a deep and soothing timbre. Being needed to be reassured like a kid was humiliating, but I let my dignity sink for the moment. I wanted to be consoled. “By the way,” he said, “was that your brother on the phone earlier?”

I’m realising now what a tactful change of topic that was. He’s uncannily good.

“Blue?” I lifted my head in surprise. “How’d you know?”

“Ah, well,” Lance quirked an eyebrow, frowning. “He’s got a distinctive charm to him, hasn’t he?”

Just then, I heard a yell from the front. Blue was standing at the doors, waving. “Hey!”

Speak of the Duskull. I almost laughed out of irony. That asshole actually turned up.

Blue bounded over, his gait faltering as he noticed Lance next to me, who acknowledged him coolly. “Good afternoon, Blue.” His aura, which I’d believed to be overwhelming sophistication, seemed to slip into something snobbish.

Blue pulled himself into a straighter posture. “Lance,” he said, the ghost of a smirk on his face, “I didn’t think you’d be here with Leaf. Off-duty, or have you ditched?”

I rapidly glanced between them, stunned at the tension unfolding before me. Even more surprisingly, a mutual distaste I could never have anticipated. 

“On-duty, actually,” Lance replied, challenge slithering into his words. “Ensuring the Champion’s well-being happens to be part of my job as an Elite Four. And what about you, Viridian Gym Leader? Is skipping work without notice a daily occurrence?” His greatest weapon was his complete composure. Anyone who spoke like that would get under my skin without even trying.

It definitely got under Blue’s skin. “A lotta ego for someone who lost to me,” he hissed. “I used to be your Champion, got it, so why don’tcha shut up?”

“Ah, of course. And what a fantastic Champion you were.” Lance folded his arms. “Remind me—how long, exactly, did you last on the throne?”

Blue was about to hurl himself at Lance, but I grabbed his wrist. “Don’t fight in a hospital.” The assertiveness I wanted to embody I fell short of and I ended up sounding frail and tired. It made Blue hesitate, glancing at my grip. He sighed and sat down on the other side of me. 

The atmosphere had gone icy and stiff, and if a nurse didn’t come over to speak to us within the next five minutes, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I was so glad to have the tension dissipate that I broke into a smile when I saw him walking over.

With a trademark clinical detachment, the nurse reported, “He’s doing well.” The churning in my stomach subsided. I had been so worried. Or was I relieved to have blame averted from me? “His fever’s already easing off. We’ll keep him on an IV drip here overnight for the fluids. He's still dehydrated, and his fever was unusual. It shouldn’t really be of concern though. We’re running a few arbitrary tests to be sure, but I believe he’ll be more than right to go home tomorrow morning.” 

I only heard the part that mattered. He’s doing well. I was so grateful I could die. 

“Thank you. Are we allowed to see him?” asked Lance. 

“We’ll finish up our final check-ups and then you’ll be free to visit.” I expected a smile, but all the nurse did was bow half-genuinely and stride away.

“See, he’s fine.” Blue rolled his eyes, the tension in his shoulders loosening. “You were worried for nothing.”

I laughed. From time to time, Blue could be unusually cute. “Me? You’re the one that left the Gym to check up on him.”

“I’m on lunch break,” he said, though I’ve never heard of any lunch break that ran on for hours. He pulled himself up. “Well, smell ya later, then.”

I pulled a face at the switch-up. “H-huh? Where are you going?” 

Blue shrugged. “Red’s fine, so I’m gonna head back. I wouldn’t wanna be caught skipping work, would I?” He threw a derisive glance at Lance.

“You don’t want to see him?”

He didn’t respond, looking cold.

Lance spoke up, dispassionately. “Your friend was hospitalised this morning. The least you could do is visit him. It’s minimal courtesy.”

This pissed Blue off. “You wanna talk about courtesy?” Blue sneered. “How about the courtesy to stay outta other people’s business?” There was an edge to his words, dangerous, fragile? “You don’t know shit ‘bout me, Lance.”

Impressively, Lance seemed unphased. “You should make time to see him.”

Blue spluttered into a hacking laugh. “Yeah, ‘cause that shithead makes time to see us.”

I felt a twang of pity in my stomach. “He’s Champion,” I murmured. “He’s busy.”

“Well, how come Lance can sit in a hospital for hours?” Blue spat. It sounded like it was going to be another jab at Lance, but he continued. “If he really wanted to spend time with us, he could.” His lip had curled a bit too much for him to be angry.

“Are you really leaving?” I asked.

I hadn’t mistaken it. Blue wasn’t that comical in his outbursts. As his mouth pressed shut, I caught something sad flicker across his gaze. “Ah… who said anything about leaving? I’m just getting a drink.” He offered a grim smirk. “You want anything?” After a second thought: “You too, Lance.”

“Iced tea is good,” I said.

“OK. Lance?”

A calculating glint shone in Lance’s eyes. “A double shot latte with one packet of sugar and almond milk. Extra cream with cocoa powder, some cinnamon. And ask the barista to put a heart on it while you’re at it,” he said, politely adding, “Please.”

Blue’s face creased up, incredulous. “Fucking kill yourself. I’m not getting you that shit, you prick.”

Lance nodded observantly as he stormed off. “I did want to see how he would react,” he explained aloud. “Though I hadn’t expected much.”

“He’ll get it for you,” I predicted. “He just has to pull some bullcrap before he does.”

“That seems counter-productive.”

He didn’t say anything more and I became aware of his eyes on me, expectant, like he wanted me to elaborate. It made me want to recoil. Although he was waiting for me to, I couldn’t make myself say more. My hands had gone cold with sweat and I’d lost my train of thought.

Blue came back a while later, a coffee cup clasped in one hand, a carton in the other, and a bottle tucked under his elbow. It was a quite precarious scene. He awkwardly shuffled over to me and tilted his arm up so the bottle fell into my lap.

“Thanks,” I said. It was cold and soothing to touch. I drank eagerly. I hadn’t known I was so thirsty.

“And here’s your fucking coffee, you psycho,” growled Blue, holding out the paper cup. He’d ended up going to the café after all.

Lance took the cup from him graciously. In investigation, he lifted the plastic lid, then gave me a subtle look of disbelief. I caught a glimpse over the edge of the cup to see a milky surface that was definitely heart-shaped. Blue’s antics grew extraordinarily funny once you caught light of his begrudgingly compliant nature.

Taking a long sip, he looked at the coffee in appraisal and then at Blue. “This is almond milk.”

“Yeah, that’s what you asked for.”

“I remember it quite clearly that I requested for soy milk,” said Lance, the ever-earnest.

“No, you didn’t,” he glared. “I remember what you wanted. A double shot latte with one packet of sugar and almond milk. Extra cream with cocoa powder, some cinnamon,” he recited in a mocking tone, sounding a lot like an elementary school bully. 

“I think I’d remember what I asked for,” Lance said, demonstrating a hint of offense.

“Well, you don’t!” Blue bellowed.

Helpfully, I supplied, “No, it was soy for sure.”

“Screw both of you.” Blue plopped down in his seat with fuming vigour. I leaned closer to read the label on his carton.

“Says the one drinking strawberry milk,” I remarked, teasing. “Are you still ten?”

“Shut the fuck up.” He emphatically jabbed his straw into the carton as he added,  “Kill yourself.”

“Ooh, good one.”

“And I’m the one who’s ten?” he burst. “Are you for real?”

Thinking back, I was enjoying myself. It had been so long since I was hanging around people. I’d convinced myself that I would hate it, but I really had been having fun. 

But I know what happens next, so those memories are just sick and nauseating now.

It must have been hours before the nurse came back. This time, he was lingering behind a doctor. Our chatter came to a stop as we sensed something amiss. The doctor said good evening and asked us to come into his office, smiling meekly. He was looking at the ground, mouth tight. A terrible feeling knotted itself in my stomach.

The doctor and nurse led us to his office, where we were beckoned to sit down.

“Is Red alright?” asked Lance. “How’s his fever?”

“O-oh, he’s recovering well from his fever.” The doctor’s chair was a nice one, plump and leather. He didn’t sit down, only pushed his glasses up nervously. “We, uh… have some difficult news.” He said this, then glanced at the nurse for approval. I realised that he seemed quite young, with a sliver of a tattoo visible on his neck that suggested he was better fitted in any other scenario. It could’ve been the first time he’d done this.

The nurse sighed, prompting him with, “Before clearing Red, we said we’d take a couple of tests.” 

“Ah,” the doctor said, being reminded of his task. “Yes. We do this for most moderate cases. It’s protocol. We’ll make them go through a few processes before sending them home. Like a regular check-up. One of these is usually a blood test,” he said. “After we took Red’s blood, we noticed that he had an abnormal number of white blood cells.” He was chewing on his fingernail. “Typically, a fever is caused by the inflammatory response, so elevated levels are expected. However, the levels were too high, which made it concerning. Our haematologist was free, so we had him look at the blood in the lab. Uh…” He’d been confident to present his medical knowledge, but seemed uneasy to link it to a real situation.

The nurse took over, smooth, unwavering. “Red’s receiving a biopsy right now to confirm our suspicions, but chances are, he has AML in the advanced stages. I’m sorry, it’s likely to be terminal.”

“AML?” asked Blue. I tried to convince myself that AML was not a nice way of saying dead.

“Acute Myeloid Leukaemia. It’s a variant of leukaemia,” said the doctor.

“Fuck, that’s… cancer of the blood, right?” said Blue. “Red has cancer?”

I suddenly spoke up. “Did you say it was terminal?”

All of us go quiet, and I start wanting to throw up very, very badly.

-x-

I excused myself to the bathroom after that. There, I washed my face in the sink and then leaned forward on the counter, brushing the back of my hand along my jaw as I examined my reflection. I looked like shit. My cheeks were splotchy and I was shaking.

Red has cancer Red has cancer Red has cancer

I flinched and curled my hand into a fist, knowing that I would start crying again if I didn’t steel myself. Tugging at my hair,  I observed my split ends. I didn’t move to leave the bathroom, hoping that time would stay quite still and become forgettable. 

I had many feelings thrashing inside me in the bathroom, but more than anything, I felt so, so selfish. More than shock or pain, I felt stuck-up and complacent. The first thing I’d thought when I heard Red had cancer was how it was unfair. Because, you know, when your life finally seemed to be kind of alright, and then Arceus had a little ‘gotcha!’ moment, probably just to mess with you.

The air around me was suffocating. I glanced back at the mirror, rubbing at the fat in my face that I’d never lost, feeling unbearably small.

I don’t know how much time I spent in the bathroom, but when I left, Blue was waiting outside.

“Sorry, did I make you wait?” I asked.

He looked at me. “Nah.” He held out my bottle of iced tea. “You left this back there.” There was still tea sloshing around inside.

“Thanks,” I said, taking it from him. I unscrewed the bottle and had a sip, the tang of Pecha on my tongue now oddly revolting.

“Uh… Red’s biopsy should be done. Lance is over there right now.”

A trashcan was situated right outside the bathroom. I put the lid of my drink back on and walked over, dropping it into the bin without finishing it. The bin was empty, except for my bottle, and a carton of strawberry milk. Pink liquid had spilled out and over the plastic bag.

Blue was a billion light years away when he asked, “Do you wanna go see him?” 

The answer should have been obvious.

“Yes,” I said, lying through my teeth.

We walked in silence down the corridors. The hospital was far bigger than it looked. I’d been in there a couple of times, but hadn’t ever gotten much farther than the lobby. The place transformed from vaguely familiar to cold and foreign, even though the architecture was uniform.

Blue and I went past numerous waiting areas and elevators and other convenient hospital things, but also convenient not-hospital things, like a playground area and a gym. A wall length glass window stretching on also displayed a beautiful garden that was outside. Although the scent of disinfectant tainted the air, this place was designed so people could find peace. 

The idea of that made me sick.

I was fully convinced that the corridor we were in went on forever and that we would keep walking until we dropped dead when Blue took a sharp manoeuvre and stopped in front of one of the doors. His eyes grazed over the room number, and he said, “This is it.” I realised I would be much more content to keep wandering the hospital. 

Blue stepped back for me to open the door. I took one final glance over my shoulder, seeing the ornate garden through the window. I sighed and clicked open the handle, a thousand times slower than I needed to.

It was a small room. Cramped. Dull. No windows, so the room was instead illuminated by the bland glow of the fluorescent lights. Red sat in his bed, his head tilted, having heard the door open. Lance, with his back to us, glanced over as well.

I had been blinking stupidly, not knowing what to say. Hey, cancer king! How’s the leukaemia hitting? Even now, I don’t know what the right thing to say would be. It would have been weeks on end since I’d seen him. At least a good two months since I’d spoken to him.

It wasn’t so much the diagnosis we got forty minutes ago, but the idea that it had taken for Red to have fucking terminal cancer to put us into the same room for conversation. I started to feel like a complete dickhead.

I settled for the only thing I would be able to get out. “H-hi,” I said, ignoring the way I squeaked as I walked up to his bed. “How are you feeling?” 

Red shrugged. His skin was a bit flushed and dry from the fever, but he looked pretty good otherwise. He hadn’t even changed out of his regular clothes. (Though, his hat was missing, which Red wasn’t really complete without.)

His eyes fluttered, still a bit dazed from the sedation they gave him for the biopsy. The doctor wasn’t in the room, probably processing the results. But there was nothing new to know. We’d already been told he would die.

Insanely, I wondered if Red actually knew that it was terminal. He would’ve just been roused from a severe fever and plunged into a biopsy after a blood test. The doctors might not have had a chance to tell him their suspicions.

I tried to gauge how much he was aware of, but, as usual, it was impossible to discern what was going through his mind.

His face was expressionless, or was that a hint of contempt that I saw? I looked behind me, where Blue stood, still by the door.

“Ah… Blue’s here, too,” I added. 

Red stayed still, ever-stoic. They made eye-contact, then Blue looked away like he was disgusted.

“I was just about to leave,” he muttered.

“Blue.” I’d summoned a sternness in my voice that I usually didn’t have, freezing him. Cowed, he reluctantly moved closer.

“Fine,” he said under his breath, then looked down at Red. “Hey idiot. How’d that sedative hit? Free blunt, huh?”

“That’s an inappropriate way to address someone.” Lance, who’d been merciful and kept quiet until now, spoke up. Bluntly, he said, “Try again.”

Blue’s face creased. “I’ll treat Red how I want to.”

“You’ll treat Red with basic respect.” Lance grew threatening.

Blue was hating every word that came out of Lance’s mouth. “Stay outta this, who made you the respect police? You don’t even have a rival.”

If I was a part of this I would’ve seen an opportunity in the elementary school insult, but Lance remained courteous. Uh, a lot like a certain faculty of police I know. “That’s not true. Clair, Blackthorn’s Gym Leader, has been my rival for years.”

“Oh, I know Clair.” Blue sneered. “Well, why don’t you let me deal with Red and you can go fuck your cousin or whatever.”

The perfect lucid façade of Lance’s snapped. “Don’t ever talk about Clair like that,” he snarled. “You bastard.” He raised his hand to bring it down, but Blue grabbed his arm, blocking it. He looked Red dead in the eye.

“You have cancer. You’re going to die.”

Red said nothing, like he always did.

-x-

When the nurse came we were immediately bashed and subsequently banished to the corridor. I took the opportunity to admonish Blue.

“Ex-cuse me,” I said to Lance, grabbing Blue and dragging him over to the nearby vending machine. There, I put on my best I’m-disappointed face. “What the hell was that?” My whisper exploded. “Where do you even learn to say these kinds of things?”

His arms were crossed and he spat, “Everyone knows that Lance and Claire have sex.”

This time I slapped him across the face. “Hey, watch your fucking mouth.” Before, I’d been aghast more than anything but the attitude he was showing flicked my own switch. 

He swore and clasped his cheek, his glare turning accusatory. “You’re really taking that bastard’s side?”

“Nothing Lance said warranted your words.” It would have been easier to tell him off if he wasn’t looking at me like that. Bitter and upset. “He wanted you to treat someone with respect, because that someone is your friend and they’re going through one of the worst things in the world. I think he was being reasonable, and I think that you should be thinking before you go and say whatever you like. You’re not a little kid anymore.”

The last sentence made Blue convulse. It was pitiful, and for a moment, I was sorry for hitting him. I brushed his hand aside to rub the cheek I struck. It had bloomed into a deep pink, a sad little flower.

“You know, you’re a total jerk,” I murmured. “Red didn’t need any of that.”

“You don’t get it, Leaf,” he said, trying too hard to not lean into my palm. Quietly, really quietly, he said, “You don’t know what it feels like when he looks at you like that.”

I wanted to tell Blue what it felt like when he looked at me like that. Like he was drowning in pain. As usual, I didn’t have the words and said nothing.

Lance (who was gifted with permission to go back inside) emerged from Red’s room while talking to the nurse. I caught the last few sentences of the conversation. 

“… is… no… that prognosis will look up?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, he won’t be recovering.” The nurse’s tone was kind but his face was unsympathetic. “We’ll do everything in our power to make it easier for him, but that’s all we can do. Ah, about your other question… you should ask admin out the front for that, they’ll manage it.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Lance.” He shot one last dagger eyes at Blue before stalking away.

I waited nervously in front of him as he contemplatively glanced after the nurse. “Leaf.”

“Y-yeah?” 

“There’s some things I should pass onto you.” He had reclaimed his composure. That brief lapse in his decorum was gone, in fact, if I hadn’t been in that room, I wouldn’t have known he’d lashed out at Blue at all, because he looked like he was way too good for that. “Let’s go to the cafeteria.” He gave a sideways glance at Blue, brooding by a lone sanitation station. I tried to sense any form of animosity but I couldn’t pick up on it. His placidness was faultless. “And you should bring your brother along.”

The cafeteria had closed by then, but they hadn’t put the chairs up yet so we found a table at the back. I thought that a cafeteria was the stupidest thing in the world to put in the middle of the hospital. How would anyone have an appetite to eat in a place like this?

Since it was so late, most of the crowd of the hospital had ebbed out, and it was more or less staff roaming. A couple of citizens were still there, and they gave us curious looks, surprised to see us here. Or, more accurately, surprised to see Blue and Lance. 

Lance took note of this and kept his voice at a controlled volume. “Red’s biopsy results came back. It’s as they’d been speculating. Red has leukaemia.” He moistened his lips before he began reciting what he’d heard from the nurse. “The exact condition, AML, involves the myeloid white blood cells. In simple terms, these cells in the bone marrow start multiplying abnormally. It’s the most common type of acute leukaemia, but… it’s also the most deadliest. It’s characterised by really rapid onset, days, even. So it can reach advanced stages quite quickly.”

I’d heard of leukaemia a couple of times, but always on TV. Never real like this. I didn’t think it’d come to stagger us like it had.

Red is going to die.

I couldn’t even reconcile myself with those words. I stopped understanding Kantonese at all.

When Blue asked, too casually, “How much more time do we have?” I whimpered.

Lance inhaled lightly, sombre. “With consistent treatment, we can hope for Red to survive for twelve more months.”

We fell silent. My initial reaction was ecstasy. I don’t know how long I was expecting him to live. I was probably predicting a two week’s notice, like a job resignation, but that was just me being silly. I thought Gee, twelve months! and then I thought again.

Twelve months. That was like a year. That was literally nothing. Red was seventeen. Twelve months was nothing, I realised, and I felt sick all over again.

“This is a shit hospital,” said Blue.

“Viridian has some of the best oncologists in the region. They’ll be working as hard as they can to do everything possible. But they’re not miracle-workers.” Lance had a hard look gazing at him. “You can’t cure death, Blue.”

He sniffed, irked.

“There’s one more thing I remembered,” Lance added, though it seemed like it had been bothering him this whole time. “The biopsy pointed to Red having leukaemia for almost the last month. It’s hard to admit this but we’ve only come to this stage because of the lateness of diagnosis. But the doctors were having some trouble understanding.”

He tugged at the strap of his watch.

“AML can cause some disastrous signs and symptoms with development. At Red’s stage, his bone marrow is essentially non-functional and he’s emerged with drastic anemia. He should have been having unbearable fatigue, lightheadedness, and severe bone pain. Day-to-day function should have been impossible for him.” He was addressing it cautiously, but we knew what he was hinting towards. “I’m not sure how he managed it. It’s curious and concerning.” He concluded with a thoughtful frown.

“It’s ‘cause he’s a stubborn ass,” said Blue. 

Frank, Lance said, “Your behaviour’s despicable. I recommend you to revise it. You seem incapable of remorse and it might lead to you regretting things in the future. But it’ll be too late by then. Perhaps there’s a future version of yourself already pleading for you to change.”

Would there be any version of me that would despise my life right now? I hadn’t even considered my future. I was ready to believe that every day would continue on the same without looking up, no, I’d already accepted it. Each day would wither away, and I along with it, like a dead cattail crumbling to the wind.

For a moment, I was filled with an overwhelming desire, foolish, ambitious. I didn’t want to live like this, hopeless and shameful.

I evaporated the feeling before I could dawdle on it any longer. No way, I thought, it’ll never get better.

Something was rising up my throat and I was afraid it was tears. It ended up a yawn. I burned as Lance met my eyes. “A-ah, excuse me,” I said. I hadn’t said a single thing while he was talking and became anxious that it had translated as impudence.

“Sorry, it’s getting late. Why don’t you two go home?” he suggested. “You must be tired.” Whether Lance ever got tired was beyond my mental capacity at that time. He seemed too reliable for it.

“What about you?” challenged Blue. For who knew what reason.

“I need to go speak to admin,” said Lance. “I have a couple of things to organise. Hopefully keep the media averted from this.” I hadn’t even thought of that. Red being terminally sick would be an enormous scoop. If something like this got gazetted it’d shake international news. Lance really was utterly efficient.

Not even Blue was capable of making a jab to that. “Okay then,” he huffed, pushing his chair back. “Have fun.”

“One more thing.” I tried to sense if it could get any worse from his tone. “Red might have terminal cancer, but for now, he’s relatively healthy. The hospital will keep him here for the night just in case but his fever’s down. He’s free to go home tomorrow, and continue his regular day-to-day activities, so long as he’s brought here one or twice a week for a check-up. I can take him. Also, it’s best that he’s…”

Lance glanced up at the ceiling, tongue clicking.

“I don’t think supervised is the right word, but the doctor I spoke to recommended that he has company with him. It’s just so that in case of an emergency, there’ll be someone to get him help,” he said. “His health will inevitably deteriorate over the coming months until he’s bedbound, so I advise you to treat time wisely..”

I stayed quiet as Blue led me out of the hospital. The dizziness inside me had unsurfaced again and I wanted to go home.

We went back by cab. Normally I’d just hop onto Blue’s Pidgeot but there was nothing normal about the day. Initially, the driver tried to stir up a conversation but neither of us were in the mood. He eventually got the hint and shut up.

As we got out of the car, the glow of lights from inside could be seen. A part of me already knew that we’d walk in and find that someone was waiting for us at our tiny dining table.

“Gramps?” Blue said aloud. “What are you doing here?”

Gramps turned. “Ah, my favourites,” he said, dripping with sarcasm and forehead creased. I looked away guiltily, hiding my hands behind my back, a habit I had acquired over the years from being constantly told off. That night I wasn’t in the mood.

We heard a squeak, and a Pikachu jumped from Gramps’ lap and scurried towards us. Of course, it was Red’s Pikachu.

“Rare to see it without Red,” remarked Blue, salty.

“How rare indeed,” Gramps agreed, still in that pinchy tone. He had total composure, but only because he was really good at faking it. It was clear that he was on the verge of going fucking ballistic. “I do hope he’s okay. Perhaps you two have an inkling on his whereabouts?”

If Gramps was in a better mood, maybe he’d notice the agonised look Blue and I shared.

He kept going, in the same pointed way. “A few hours ago, I had a very hyper-aggressive rat turn up on my door step, but no trainer to go with it. I called Red, who doesn’t pick up. So I followed it home and not only is the front door left unlocked, the house is in disarray, I find both Red’s phone and his Poké Balls laying in his room. Do you know how scared I was? I called both of you immediately, and what’s this? Neither of you answered. I’m starting to see a bit of a recurring trend here. I had to take aspirin, because I was wondering if I should call the police. I don’t, and instead I tried to figure out what was going on. I called Viridian Gym, and—Blue left a few minutes ago? How reassuring. So I was stuck here, for hours, contemplating what in the world to do. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” He had stood up by now.

Gramps stays typically undisturbed, without liking to yell much. But he’s had to lecture us a lot of times as kids, which involved him meaningfully raising his eyebrows at us and a comprehensive discussion on the consequential nature of actions. I don’t hate him for it, Blue and I caused way too much trouble and needed to be kept in line, rather, I admire his tolerance of us. I don’t have a temper like Blue, but I do let my emotions take the lead.

Pikachu had come over to rub itself against my legs, and I was in such a horrid mood I wanted to kick it across the room.

“Sorry,” said Blue. It was so half-assed that I had to speak up to save the both of us.

“We saw Red,” I added, feeling Pikachu’s ears perk up against me.

“Oh, really?” Gramps’ anger dissipated.  “Where is he, then?”

I thought I might answer him, but the prospects of explaining made my skin crawl.  I didn’t want to go over it, not right now, or ever.

Blue stepped forward. “We’ll tell you later. Get out of my house,” he said, totally disrespectful.

“This is my house, young man,’” Gramps began, but Blue kept going.

“I promise that Red is safe right now. We’ll tell you everything tomorrow. Please.” I was sure that it was the earnestness of that please that made Gramps reconsider. He saw Blue and I, so downcast and less lively than he knew us.

“Alright,” he resigned, “but know that I worry for you three.”

“Thank you, Gramps,” I said quietly.

He smiled, a sad flicker in his gaze.

-x-

After Gramps left, Blue and I had dinner. What I wanted more than anything, then, was to go up to my room, lock the door, and never leave again, but my stomach had a better idea. It rumbled so loudly I jumpscared myself and Blue made me sit down with him.

I couldn’t really remember the last time I had dinner with him. To be honest, it wasn’t much of a dinner.

“Do you have this every night?” asked Blue, stirring a spoon in his cereal.

“Sometimes I order takeout,” I said, but it’d been months since I last had fast food.

We ate for a little while without talking. Blue had downed his food as fast as possible and was pushing the last cornflake around his bowl. 

He paused, glancing up at me, absolutely careful. “I’m worried about you,” he said plainly. “You don’t really leave the house much and you don’t keep in touch with us. I can’t remember the last time we hung out together. We only spent so much time together today because Red’s in the fucking hospital with cancer.”

He sharpened like he might yell at me, but he quivered, softened again.

“I’m not mad at you for it. I know that you’re struggling with something really hard. Something I can’t understand. You don’t seem happy with anything at all anymore… in fact, you’ve been like this for years, ever since you gave up Pokémon training. Then you gave up everything else about you too.” He brought down the spoon onto the cornflake, crushing it.  “Leaf, you’re important to me.”

I’ll never be able to pinpoint the exact reason why Blue was so vulnerable in that moment. With an ego too precious to reduce himself to candidness, he was rarely so fragile. That was why he’d crafted his persona, after all, brimming with spite and toughness without fail. Too pretentious. Or maybe just too scared? To be soft was to be shattered.

It was a small break in the facade and memorable in its honesty. It might have been because of the catastrophic day, or maybe, over the years, while I had sunk deeper and deeper into an inescapable ravine, he’d transformed into someone who knew the right way to do things and handle emotions. Someone better. 

Devastatingly, I rewarded his defenselessness with a guarded mutter. “I’m okay, Blue.” My hands had gone cold and still and I had broken eye contact with him ages ago.

“It hurts that you feel like you have to lie to me.” He was more miserable than angry. Which was a lot worse. “I don’t know what happened for you to treat me like this. We went to school together, we left home together, we fought Team Rocket together. Then, somehow, we stopped being together. You stopped being happy, Leaf. We’ve grown so far away from each other that we’re strangers. When was the last time you’ve been with me for this long? When was the last time you visited my Gym? How much do you not want to see me? I hate the people we’ve become.” His fist had balled painfully, trembling.

“We’re adults now,” I said, like the most pathetic person in the world. “We’re busy.” I stood up from my seat and carried my bowl to the sink. A stack of bowls were waiting for a new addition, but this time, I decided to take my time meticulously washing that one, and then put it on the drying mat. As I walked past Blue to go upstairs, he spoke suddenly.

“If being an adult means leaving behind everything that matters to me,” he said, “then I don’t ever want to be called an adult.”

I headed to my room, trying to ignore every word that he’d said.

Truthfully, all I’d had that day were two bowls of cereal and iced tea (if that counts, since it’s a drink. But I’m not sure if you’d count cereal, then, because you drink the milk part of it... ugh, I’m not having this debate right now), and despite my overwhelming fatigue from the day I found myself tossing in bed out of sheer hunger.

In the end I submitted, scrambling downstairs to the fridge to comb through it desperately. While I tried to gauge how much tomato sauce I would need to consume to feel satisfactorily full, a “What are you doing?” made me scream and throw the bottle blindly.

I heard an appreciable thwack followed by much swearing. In the light of the fridge door, I stared at the assailed Blue. 

“Good one,” he groaned. He touched his temple. “Shit, I’m bleeding.”

I leaned forward to inspect the splatter of red over Blue’s forehead. I swiped over it, squinting at my fingers. With a gauging sniff, I took a lick.

“What the fuck?” Blue squawked.

“It’s tomato sauce,” I observed.

“You’re gross.” He cringed, clasping his temples to scrub off the sauce.

“Sorry,” I said. “I’m hungry.”

“Me too.”

“The fridge is empty,” I said unhelpfully.

“What did I expect?” Blue frowned, picking up the sauce bottle and to put it back in the fridge. He shut the door, setting us back into darkness. “I think there’s ice-cream in the freezer.”

So we sat on our couch and ate ice-cream.

I felt a little rebellious, because we were technically not meant to eat on the couch. Mum would always tell me off whenever I tried sneaking food onto it so I could eat while watching TV. But that was ages ago. Now our sofa was tattered old and Mum wasn’t there, so I could eat in peace on the toilet if I really wanted to, but the guilt never went away.

I took out a massive scoop and swallowed it whole, regretting it immediately as the cold left me wincing. “I didn’t know we had ice-cream at home.”

“I know.” Blue pointed the spoon at me. “Otherwise you would’ve eaten it all, you fatty.”

“Twink,” I said scathingly, and smacked his hand before he could dig out a scoop. “It tastes expired, anyway,” I hypothesised, continuing to eat it. I was starving and wasn’t going to be picky.

“It’s not, so you can rest easy,” said Blue. He watched my movements before his hand darted out to get his scoop, deciding it safe. Of course, the only one deciding whether it was safe was me. I batted him away again. 

“How can I be sure?” I asked, keeping up this debate like it mattered to me.

“I bought it,” said Blue crossly.

“Really?” A teensy bit sorry for him, I granted him access to the tub.

He didn’t reach out for his spoon, seemingly faraway in his thoughts. “It was coming-of-age-day for you this year,” he said. “My Gym was closed, so I thought… we could hang out together.” Saying that, he grabbed the tub from me and reclaimed the ice-cream to eat. 

I didn’t protest as he took it. My coming-of-age day. 

Kanto’s really well known for its coming-of-age day. There’s always these huge festivals and the night would finish with the biggest fireworks ever.

But I spent my coming-of-age day locked up crying in my room all day. Then I remembered the text I got from Blue, so totally unexpected.

U ok?

I had thought I heard rustling outside my door. How long was he there for?

I ended up leaving that message on delivered.

“Sorry. I must be such a prick.”

He laughed. “Yeah, you are.”

He held out the box of ice-cream to me. I poked inside the tub with my spoon. The ice-cream was mint choco-chip flavoured. Everyone in our house hated mint choco-chip. Except me.

I thought I might never be able to understand how much I was loved.

He separated the spoon from my fingers, scooping out a haphazard pile. “Forget it.” He handed me the spoon back. “You can make it up to me on my coming-of-age day.”

Brightening, I nibbled on the scoop. “Aha, okay. And we’ll drag Red along with us, so we can celebrate both of your coming-of-ages.”

“Yeah, if he doesn’t run away halfway.”

“Okay, I’ll hold him down.”

“We could have half of Kanto holding him down and he’d still vanish if he didn’t want to be there.”

“Whatever, we’ll think of something. It’s still two years away.”

Blue chuckled, but he quickly sucked in a breath. “Fuck…fuck, Leaf, he won’t see his coming-of-age-day.”

And I remembered all too horribly again that one year was nothing. One year was less than two years. It was obvious. But it meant that Red wouldn’t get to see his coming-of-age day. Growing up, he wouldn’t be able to experience it. Because he wouldn’t make it that far. “My bad.” I diverted my gaze. “I forgot.” 

But what a silly thing to forget? I expected Blue to laugh at me but instead he said, “Yeah. I can’t believe he has cancer. It doesn’t feel real, you know?”

“This is gonna sound weird,” I said, “but I can’t believe it. It just… it’s so fake to me.” I thought I might dissolve into wracking sobs talking about it, but nothing of that sort happened. “Can you imagine Red being just freaking gone? Like, one day, we’ll never see him again and we’ll just have to deal with that.”

He grinned, insipid. “And from cancer, too? What did Lance say it was, AML? Ugh, what an ass way to go.” He sank back into the couch. “A long and slow death.”

Something clicked for me when he said that. Red was already dying, very slowly, a death that would take twelve months. And then, my friend, who I’d known for my entire life, would disappear.

But I couldn’t picture it happening, separating him from the future. Every time I tried to delicately peel him away from it, the rest of my life would fall apart spontaneously.

I wished that it wasn’t real. Cliché as it might have been, I wanted it all to be a stupid dream. How did my life end up like this?

“What are we going to do?” I murmured. “It’s never going to be okay ever again.”

Red’s face kept flashing in my head, the face I saw in the attic, weak and delirious. It was driving me insane.

I thought I would do anything for him, the strongest feeling I’d had in a while. But shame swallowed me next. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been around him before that day. 

I slumped, my face pressing into my hands. “Ugh… I’m such a shit friend.”

“Whaddaya think that makes me?” Bitter and furious, he snapped, “You know what’s funny? Today was the first time I talked to Red in months. And I told him he was going to die. I’m an idiot.”

There was a fiery rivalry between Blue and Red throughout their Pokémon journey. Metaphorically and physically, because Blue would often try to fight him. He always won. Red had never been one to push back and let himself be beat up.

The adults around us never said anything about it. Boys will be boys.

But as a kid, seeing two people ruin each other with unbridled hatred was harrowing. The way they fought was brutal and frightening. I was terrified that they’d destroy their whole relationship. No one would listen to me, no matter how much I tried to tell them.

So I watched, as this euphemised rivalry grew hotter and hotter, hurtling towards the point of no return.

It combusted, when Red took the throne. Gramps burst into the Champion room to see Blue sprawled on the floor, a tooth knocked out and claw marks on his neck.

The first retaliation Red had ever made. With a cut under his eye, he stood above Blue, humourless and cold, before turning and walking to the Hall of Fame.

And that was the end of their relationship, obliterated and burnt to a crisp. I’d always known it would end up like that, but I didn’t have the heart to say I told you so.

Afterwards, I’d always been critical whenever he brought it up. “I can’t believe you pulled that crap in the hospital,” I said. “Forget Lance. Red has cancer and the way you treated him today was revolting.”

But Blue’s words made me falter. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say those things.” Again, that feeling sparked in my chest, as if I was conversing with someone totally foreign to me. It was true that Blue said just anything that crossed his mind, but he’d never taken them back before.

Cruelly, I whispered, “Lance’s right, you know. You’re a shit rival.”

“Don’t call me that!” Unexpectedly, he shouted, then flinched, seeing me cower. “Sorry. But you know what? It sucks hearing that. It really sucks. What, local bully versus the kid that decimated the Elite Four and halted a transnational villain organisation with a fucking Pikachu? I’m sick of being compared to him.” He swung his feet softly. “Red’s not my rival anymore.”

“Then what is he to you?” All the rage and spite I’d known for Blue to harbour had melted. “Your friend?” Instead, something more delicate was uncovered, something glum and pitiful.

Blue shook his head. “I don’t want to say that, either. He’s so much more than that.” I’d been wrong. Blue did care about Red. “He’s like my everything.”

It was the sweetest confession I’d ever heard. “I get that.” How well said! That was why I felt like my whole life would be torn apart without Red. Because he was my everything. 

We’d grown up together, huddled under one blanket to devise outlandish stories, then fell asleep before we could finish them. We’d shared our things, our emotions, and also our dreams, since we set out on our Pokémon journey hand in hand. Us three against the world.

That rare intimacy was gone now. But I couldn’t let go of it. 

“You’re gonna fix things, right?” I asked.

Blue stiffened, uncomfortable. “Uh, I wanna,” he admitted. “I wanna tell him how I’m so fucking sorry for all the shit I put him through. But I can’t even begin to imagine how I’d do it. Oh, sorry I made your life hell ‘cause I got kicks out of it. Oh yeah, that’ll hit for sure. I know I don’t deserve something like being forgiven, but Red…” He swallowed and gritted his teeth. “I realised something, seeing him after so long. There’s this glass wall between him and everyone. A bulletproof glass wall we’ll never get through. He built them that way, Leaf.”

I could pretend otherwise, but I knew exactly what he was talking about. I’d felt it too, that distance in the hospital. Like I’d never get through to him. “What does that mean then? You’re never gonna try to make it up with him?”

I wanted to reach for another scoop, thinking it might be comforting, but my spoon hit plastic. The tub was empty, melted ice-cream sloshing around the bottom.

“What’s the point of even trying?” he asked sullenly. “He doesn’t even wanna see my face.”

It was apparent Blue was penting himself up over the fear of rejection. Of failure. For Blue, someone who had lived his entire life being handed everything he wanted, blowing the world away with his charm and talent, failure was a forbidden domain. He couldn’t risk it. But when I reminded him, “You’ll hate yourself with the regret that comes with giving up,” it left me pensive.

I glanced up at the TV across the room, seeing my faint reflection in the black screen. 

The shatter from upstairs shook the both of us. I jumped onto Blue, seizing his arm.

“Are we getting broken into?” Alarmed, I crouched, my weight crushing him further.

“From the second floor?” He laughed, wrestling me off. “Fat chance.”

We went to investigate, Blue in the front and me timidly trailing after him.

The bathroom window was broken, but not from any burglar. More likely, it was Red’s Pikachu, standing in a circle of shattered glass, panting as his tail twinkled silver from a formidable Iron Tail.

Perplexed more than anything, I padded closer. “What is going on?” I tried to pick up Pikachu but it nipped at me and I sprang back. “Oh!”

It was Blue that pacified it. “What are you up to, buddy?” he chastised. I was scared of it biting him but Blue just sighed and grabbed Pikachu by its scruff. Pikachu squealed, its legs flailing wildly. “Don’t even think about zapping me, you naughty boy,” he said sternly. The sparks on its cheeks vaporised as it sagged in his grip. “I thought I put you to bed.”

The window had been more or less torpedoed. Jagged glass lined the frame, the thin moon visible beyond it. “W-was Pikachu trying to escape?”

“Looks like it,” Blue said. Grabbing it by the jaw to prevent further bite attempts, he smoothed his hand over its fur. “It doesn’t look hurt, though.” He eyed the Pokémon, who was looking increasingly petulant. “You’re friggin’ lucky. Anything could’ve gone wrong when you tried that. You wanna go to hospital too?” In rebuke, he whacked the back of its head. Pikachu whined, less out of pain and more out of the appal of being put in place.

Feeling sorry for it, I cooed, “Come here, buddy.” Pikachu, who never turned down an opportunity to be coddled, eagerly belted Blue with its tail to leap into my arms. “My poor baby.” Pikachu mewled in agreement.

Blue rubbed his sore hand. “That fucker’s no baby,” he scowled. “He’s fucking nine years and counting. Old bastard has no right acting like he was born yesterday.”

Pikachu flicked its ears, offended. “Maybe it was missing Red?” I wondered. 

“What did Gramps say? It went all the way to the lab to find him?” Blue’s gaze softened. “You went out today, right? But Red was still in the house?”

I caught on, too.

Pikachu would’ve noticed how sick Red was. The house was empty, so it decided to go find Gramps to get help. It would’ve taken a while for the tiny Pokémon to get there. By the time it located Gramps and the two came back, Lance and I would’ve come and left, taking Red with us. Pikachu would completely miss him.

And it couldn’t do anything about it, only hope and wait. But now it was so late and Red still hadn’t returned.

No one would have thought to tell Pikachu what happened to Red. It was worried enough to want to venture out in the dark by itself. Anything to find its trainer.

“Shit…” Blue had gone hoarse.  “We’re being selfish, aren’t we, Leaf, only thinking about ourselves? Imagine what it’s gonna be like for Pikachu… what’s gonna happen to it?”

I clasped Pikachu tighter to my chest, ignoring its squeak of protest. I hadn’t even thought about any repercussions that stretched beyond my own. Pikachu was attached to Red by the hip (or rather, the head. I rarely saw the Pokémon not peering down from the throne that was Red’s cap). It was piercingly loyal and didn’t take well to anyone else. Separating Pikachu from Red…

“I... I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Measuredly, Blue blew his breath out, as he glanced through the broken window impassively. He guided me out into the hallway and swooped Pikachu out of my arms. “Okay, I’ma clean this up. Go to sleep, it’s late as. ”

I again got a fleeting sense of a maturity that surprised me. 

I did as he said and went to my room to rest. But sleep came to me after too long, and when it did come it was fitful and unforgiving. When Blue shook me awake early the next morning, I was unbelievably groggy.

“Get up, Leaf,” he hissed, trying to pull me into a sitting position.

“Fuck you,” I mumbled, half-asleep, pulling the covers over me even further.

Blue growled at me. “Fuck you! Get up, lazy ass! The hospital just called. Red’s gone.”

Yet rational, I scrunched up my face. “What do you mean…” The events of yesterday came flooding back to me.

Red.

Cancer.

Oh. Oh. My eyes flew open. “Gone? But we had a year…”

He looked at me assessingly, pitying but glad to have gotten me awake. “No, dumbass, he’s gone. As in ditched. The nurses entered his ward and found the room empty and windows open. That bastard really climbed out of the third floor.”

If I had more of a grasp on my conscious self I would’ve given him an earful about wording things in a way that wouldn’t give me a heart attack. “Is he okay?”

“I woke up to feed all of the Pokemon and his are gone. So I think he’s okay but now I have to go on nanny duty and find him. You can go back to sleep but call me when you get up again.”

He spoke quickly, prepared to leave and presuming that I wanted to stay in bed.

He was right, no, he should’ve been right. The Leaf I had been for the past eight years would have done exactly that. So it wasn’t her who reached out and grabbed Blue’s hand. It wasn’t her who said, “Wait. I’m coming with you.”

It was nothing like the person who I had been, but a lot like who I wanted to be.

So Blue and I left the house together to search from the skies, him on his Aerodactyl and me riding his Pidgeot. This was our designated arrangement when we wanted to go somewhere because I was terrified of his Aerodactyl.

“What are the chances of us actually finding him?” I grumbled, rather missing my bed. The morning breeze was frosty and I was having second thoughts.

“If it’s the Red we know, then probably zero,” remarked Blue. “But it’s hospital’s orders. From that bitch-ass nurse, so I’m not gonna risk it. I’m not in the mood for this either, mind you. Since he’s training, he better be visible from up here.”

“Arceus,” I griped. “Just get your Arcanine to sniff him out or something.” 

He cackled. “It doesn’t work like that in real life. You watch too many cop shows.”

In my opinion, Blue didn’t watch enough cop shows. “I think you should train your Arcanine better,” I said.

“That’s not the problem,” he insisted, getting defensive. “Arcanine’s K-9 trained. I just think that Red would start flying the moment he could.”

“Then get your Pidgeot to sniff him out.”

“Oh, fuck you, now you’re just messing with me.” Scowling, he sped ahead, putting as much distance between me and him as possible.

“It’s the 21st century,” I yelled after him, laughing. “Get innovative.”

He kept flying before doing a swift 180 and making a nosedive for the ground. I shouted sorry after him, thinking I hadn’t been that unpleasant of company for him to kamikaze on the spot. I hurried Pidgeot to follow after him.

“So you had a great idea?” I asked, with a healthy dose of doubt, as we stood in front of the PC in the PokéCenter.

“A swell idea,” he chirped, evidently pleased with himself as he logged in. It took longer than normal, because Blue’s password was about twenty digits, which is the recommended minimum length for security reasons. Although, truth be told, mine is just 1234. “You’ll be impressed with me.”

“What is this idea, exactly?” I approached this question tentatively and with apprehension.

“A surprise,” he said. He tapped around until two consecutive beeps opened a dialog box that prompted him to leave a Pokémon. He slid an Ultra Ball into the machine, watching it get swallowed. Whirring could be heard within it until it spat out a standard Poké Ball.

I curiously looked over his shoulder, chagrined to discover he’d gotten taller than me at some point. “What Pokémon is that?”

“Who’s that Pokémon?” he replied with a sneer. He shut down the PC and we left the Center. Once outside, he unleashed the mystery Pokémon.

“A Porygon?” I gasped. They were so exclusive I’d only ever seen them online. It was bigger than I imagined and… “It’s kind of cute?” The Porygon sounded a happy fanfare in response. My heart melted.

“This thing’s genius,” said Blue. “It does maths like a calculator. I should’ve had one when I was in elementary.”

“They’re expensive as, though,” I said. “How’d you afford this?”

“Gym leader privileges,” he grinned. “Nah, kidding. It was a gift from one of the scientists in Saffron City after the shenanigans with Team Rocket.” 

I admired Porygon, easily the coolest thing I saw that week. When I reached out to run my hand over its synthetic back, a deep humming resonated from within it, resembling purring. “What can it do?”

“Some pretty neat things,” he bragged. “Like track devices.”

“You’re going to find his phone’s IP address?” I was appalled, but there was something morbidly enthralling about the idea. “We’re doxxing him?”

Blue pocketed that idea for another time. “Nah, his phone’s turned off half the time. But you know what Red has on him at all times?”

“His cap?” I guessed stupidly.

“No, you dumb fuck, his Pokédex.” 

“Pokédexes don’t have IP addresses,” I said.

“Yeah, but every Pokédex has a serial number for identification. It’s stored in the device. If I can get a hold of someone’s serial number for their ‘dex, I can locate them. As it turns out, I just happen to have Red’s serial number.”

He didn’t elaborate on how exactly he’d acquired Red’s personal data, and I didn’t ask him to. I didn’t want to be part of whatever sketchy business he’d initiated behind the scenes.

“Hmm, what coincidental luck,” I settled for sarcasm instead. “It’s almost as if you’ve been waiting for this very moment. But, nerd, since you clearly know all this stuff, why don’t you tell me how exactly we’re going to locate Red by knowing his Pokédex’s serial number or whatever?”

“That’s where this fella comes in.” He  beckoned to Porygon. “So why don’t you trust me and let it work its magic.” With a scratch under its chin, he got to business. “You remember the number I told you that one time, right? It might be under a file named Red or something.” It beeped in affirmation. “Right, well, think you could find it?” He cracked his knuckles. “Porygon, Lock-On!”

Porygon began to spin its feet and bob in the air, buzzing as it presumably ran thousands of diagnostics and analyticals inside its computerised head. I’d expected it to take a while because it was focusing so intently, but it was over in a matter of seconds and its eyes began flashing fervently.

Blue also seemed pleased by its quick work. “Looks like we’re going back to the sky.” He nodded at Porygon. “Lead the way.”

When we saw Red’s Pokémon (Red was too small to see) in the distance, I admired how nifty Porygon was. 

“Nice work, bud.” He bumped his fist to Porygon’s side, who cooed with a happy vibration. “Thanks for the help. You saved us a lotta trouble.” He smiled, then held out its Poké Ball so it could return.

His congeniality was nothing like what I’d been familiar with: a Blue who was exceptionally tough on his Pokémon.

While we were travelling on our journey, he’d train his team until they were senseless and yelled at them when they couldn’t keep up with his lofty expectations. Comparatively, the Blue I was seeing now was unrecognisable.

Come to think of it, he was so gentle with Pikachu yesterday too. And the way he spoke to me…

“Wow, you’re so nice!” I grinned, framing it as a taunt.

In truth, Blue had grown into a quite compassionate person. 

His cheeks coloured. “Ugh, shut up.” Though he strove to be such a man, the notion of it embarrassed him.

I giggled at his expression, then got serious. “But seriously, props to your Porygon. I don’t even know where we are right now.”

“Yes you do,” he objected. “This is Route 17.”

“That was so helpfully descriptive of you!” I said nicely.

“Cycling Road?” he prompted.

How odd for him to say that, since there wasn’t a single bicycle to be spotted. There was more grass than concrete now, and so many Pokémon frolicking around beds of flowers that seemed equally lively. A shiny sign was propped: Pokémon Road.

“Aah,” I said. “It looks different now.”

“Well, you know.” Blue shrugged. “It’s been almost ten years. Time passes. Things change.”

I wanted to say something but we’d neared Red and Blue sounded an instruction to Aerodactyl for landing. Pidgeot followed, reaching the ground in a smooth descent. I hopped off, giving it a quick thank you, to which it ruffled its feathers.

As we’d suspected, Red was training. All of his Pokémon were out, most of them resting on the grass. Beyond the wire fence, Charizard and Lapras were locked in a staged brawl. Lapras fired an impressive Ice Beam, and Charizard deftly dodged. It was definitely a sight.

Behind the fence, was Red, one hand firmly tugging the brim of his cap to keep it from flying away.

“Look at him, training,” growled Blue, raising his voice to yell, “Hey, Red!”

At his name, he turned around, slowly. His Pokémon paused what they were doing to look at us. Pikachu, which had been grooming itself at his feet, scrambled up Red to perch on his shoulder. There was a look of insult on his face, as if he was beyond unhappy to see us.

Blue, of course, wasted no time in giving him a piece of his mind. “What the hell? Are you insane? Absconding the hospital at like six in the morning without telling anyone, and to train? Haven’t you got even an ounce of sense in your useless body? You can’t pull stupid shit like this! You’re not ten anymore!” Red had conjured a faint glare. “You never have any consideration for anyone except yourself!”

Blue was still going. Red was due a condemnation, but Blue should’ve left it there.

“All you do is fucking train all day, isn’t that kinda fucking pathetic? You’re so fucking dumb!” Blue panted, out of breath from berating him. “Why are you training, anyway? It’s not like you’ll be Champion much longer.”

The weight of what he’d said dawned on Blue and he shrank back. He hadn’t intended for such a blow to hit. And Red continued to stare at him, not reacting. 

Blue lowered his head. “Let’s go, Leaf,” he grunted, and walked away.

I managed to get one last glimpse over my shoulder to see Red watching us leave him.

It was a quiet ride back. Blue was furious. Not at Red. At himself. He knew he’d run his mouth too much. Back at the hospital, and now here. Two strikes. 

He had to go to work, so he dropped me off back home. “I’ll—uh, let the hospital know he’s fine,” was all he managed, raspy and morose. “See you.”

I lingered, watching him fly away on Aerodactyl until he was nothing more than a speck in the sky. 

On the way back inside, I noticed the sliver of an envelope peeking out of the mailbox. Upon pulling out the letter I discovered that it had been addressed to Blue, which was the least surprising thing to ever happen, because who the hell would send a letter to a nobody like Leaf Oak?

I headed into the house and upstairs to my room, searching for my phone so I could let Blue know.

I found it lying on the bedside table, dead. I hadn’t let it charge since two nights ago, and the adapter wasn’t where it was meant to be. I had to look through my room before locating it in my drawer. Gramps must have put it away when he came over last night.

He’d cleaned the rest of my room, too. All the chip packets had been picked from the ground and the room smelled fresher, faintly sterile and floral. My room hadn’t been this clean for weeks, from when Gramps had visited last. 

“Now that I think of it, I have to go see Gramps.” Blue had been full of audacity driving Gramps out like that but he had promised that we’d explain everything later. Yesterday’s memories floated around me and my stomach flipped. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about this messy, awful situation, which would just make it more real.

Seeing my phone had salvaged some battery, I texted Blue. Since it had been his idea, after all.

Hey.

Thankfully, he responded immediately.

Yeah what’s up.

Shouldn’t you be working?

I am.

You’re texting me.

I am.

What. Mid-battle?

lol no challengers today.
I’m so bored.
I barely have the chance to have a good battle these days. All the challengers that make it to the eighth Gym are little kids.

I swear every time I see a kid with a standard-issue cap and a Poké Ball I physically cringe.
I can’t believe that was us.
Tell me we didn’t look that dumb.

Nope, no way.
We were way cooler.
And stronger. The Gym Challenge is too easy now.
Back in my day, we had to pay with blood to make it halfway.

You really went
“Back in my day” [nerd_emoji][index_finger_pointing_up_emoji][clown_emoji][clown_emoji][clown_emoji]
Are you for real?

Shut the fuck up, I’m right.

LOL NEVER LETTING YOU LIVE THIS MOMENT DOWN.
REMEMBERING THIS FOREVER.
SCREENSHOTTED. [camera_with_flash_emoji][camera_with_flash_emoji]

FUCK YOU.
I CAN’T EVEN TALK AROUND YOU.

NOT WHEN YOU SAY STUPID STUFF LIKE THAT LMAOOO.
Hey, why are you leaving me on delivered?
OKOK I’m sorry.
[Replying to “The Gym Challenge is too easy now.”:] You’re right, though. Like, we were kicking Team Rocket’s asses and in the middle of a national recession. These kids get a cute little starter and then they pack their bags like it’s time for a picnic.

Guess what actually happened.
Yesterday I got a trainer with AN EEVEE.
Can you believe it? How’d that girl make it all the way to my Gym?

Did you beat her?

Hell yeah, I crushed her and her dreams.

[sob_emoji] YOU’RE FOUL.
Learn some sportsmanship.

I ALWAYS show sportsmanship.
When I win, anyway.

Hmm.

Lucky for you, I’ve never lost a battle at Viridian Gym.

Wow. Too strong.
When does your shift finish?

idk 5.30 if no one else turns up.
Why?
Do you need to go shopping?
Groceries, because our fridge is FUCKING EMPTY?

Haha. Very funny.
Wait no that’d be helpful. Pick something up if you can.
Actually, the reason I texted you was cause we’re meant to meet up with Gramps.

lol wdym

?
You were the one who told him we’d talk to him later.

Oh did I.
Yeah, later.
Doesn’t mean the next fucking day.
I fear that’s called basic comprehension. [Leaf Disliked this message.]

Sorry, I’m not risking his pachydermatous temper.

The fuck? Did Pachurisu get autocorrected?

Uh, no.
It actually means pretty fucking brutal.
…I fear that’s called basic comprehension.

I’ve got some basic comprehension for you.
Define kys.

Oh, I’ve got this one.
Kindly bring Your aSs to gramps’ lab.

0/10 terrible effort.
[Replying to: “Kindly bring Your aSs to gramps’ lab.”: ] Smartest elementary school drop out: 

His lab. 6.00.

Whatever.

If you don’t pull up, so Arceus help me, I’m going to explain your PH tastes to Gramps.

Pleased with my threat, I put my phone down without waiting for Blue’s undoubtedly foul response.

I rubbed my eyes and glanced at my bed, still quite unmade. It wasn’t even 11 yet. I stayed up so late last night and I had a good while since I was due to leave. I could sleep for a bit. As I climbed into bed, I heard a rumble. The weather had been so nice the day before but it had already regressed back to the typical mild overcast Kanto was known for.

Dozing off, I prayed it wouldn’t rain.

It didn’t rain, but I did end up sleeping for seven hours straight. When I woke up, it was well past five and the sun was due to set soon. Great. I grabbed my bag and ran out of the house.

Gramps’ lab was a few kilometres away, which was a very deceiving way to describe it, because it’s at the very top of the hill. (A cunning set-up to discourage visitors.) It always took me more than an hour to get there and I was never in a presentable condition by the end of it.

Leaving when I had, I was certain that I’d be disastrously late, maybe even have Blue precede my appearance. I forced a brisk pace, fiercely glad that I did not have PH tastes to expose.

When I ended up ringing the doorbell I was sweaty and out of breath. I was afraid to check my phone, knowing the time would be shameful.

5.54PM.

The walk was shorter than I had remembered. I could never have been able to predict that I’d make it there on time.

One of the assistants opened the door for me, which might make you think, Wow! Professor Oak is so cool and caught up in his research that he has people to answer his doorbell for him!, which was precisely what Gramps wanted you to think. I knew that Gramps was not busy at all because when the assistant led me to his room I found him drinking tea with a book in his hand.

“Hi Gramps.”

He peered up from his book. “You look like a hobo.”

“Thanks,” I said.

He’d already gone back to reading, totally disinterested. “Why are you here? Do you need food or money?” he asked flippantly, turning his page.

Offended, I said, “I don’t need a reason to pull up! Do I always come to you for food or money?”

“That’s why you’re a hobo,” he explained. “You could’ve just called me. I’m a busy man, you know.” To emphasise this, he smoothed his white lab coat, condescending. It would have had more dignity if he didn’t have a tea stain over the breastpocket.

 “You’re literally reading!” I accused him.

To this he nodded gravely. “A researcher’s job is to acquire knowledge.”

I narrowed my eyes at the cover. “That’s a trashy romance novel.”

“Knowledge is knowledge,” he offered, but I saw him hastily put the book down.

“You’re pushing seventy. I can take my chances with betting that you won’t need any knowledge in the love department.”

I thought my sarcasm had been a good hit, but Gramps decided to get serious with the game. “Oh, because my granddaughter is well-versed in such a department?” I went silent. He’d got me. “I’m glad you agree,” he said pleasantly.

In defeat, I trudged over to sit next to him, laying my bag on the coffee table there as I slid into a seat. “How are you?” I asked.

“Well enough,” he said. “How about you? You hardly come visit.”

“Oh, I’ve been alright,” I said.

He smiled at me. I never elaborated and Gramps never pressed further. It had been such a worried smile. I wish I understood, back then, how concerned he was about me.

“What did you have for breakfast?” What a typical Gramps question. It seemed that we had this conversation every time I talked to him. Why did it ever matter what my breakfast was?

“I haven’t had breakfast yet.”

“Goodness. What about dinner last night?”

“…Ice-cream,” I answered, looking away sheepishly.

“Goodness,” he repeated, graver. “Are you on a diet? I knew it, you’ve been looking so skinny recently. You haven’t been eating properly! Aren’t you hungry?”

I was not in the least bit skinny. In fact I was sure I’d gained weight in the past few months. 

“I am,” I said truthfully, because I was hungry. “Can we order pizza?”

“I am feeling a bit peckish,” he agreed. “Sure, why not? Can I expect your brother anytime soon, or just you today?”

“Blue’s coming,” I eagerly sprang to my feet to grab Gramps’ phone so I could place the order. “I’ll let him know about the pizza. It might speed him up a bit.”

As I was trying to find the ultimate flavour to choose, Gramps nonchalantly picked up his book and said, “Hobo.”

“Gramps!” I exclaimed.

“I didn’t say anything.” He solemnly nodded at the words on the page, not reading them.

“Screw you!” I snapped. I ordered the pizzas and then checked my phone to message Blue. He’d sent me a text.

I’ve gotten caught up with some work. I might be a bit late.

What a blatant lie. That jerk wasn’t even trying to fool me.

OK, that’s fine.
More pizza for me, then.

Pizza?

Oops, I wasn’t meant to say that !!!!
Pretend like you didn’t see it.

I don’t even like pizza.

I know. But pizza makes for a lovely food to discuss certain topics over.

wtf
What are you discussing??

:)

Wait.
YOU ARE NOT.

Ah, shame. I think you should run. Gramps will have a seizure after hearing about futanari. 

THERE’S NO FUCKING WAY…

I giggled and put my phone back down.

“Do you want me to go outside and wait for the delivery guy?” I asked Gramps.

He clicked his tongue, waving his hand. “Don’t worry about that, one of the researchers will bring it in here when it comes.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “You’re beyond evil. I feel sorry for them.”

“They’re rookies with the hope of becoming renowned professionals one day.” He sipped his tea. “They’re going to have to take the good with the bad. It takes a few years of tough work.”

“I don’t know, you got it pretty easily,” I said, sceptical.

“And you could too, if you wanted.” He looked at me. “It’s always nice to have connections.”

“Gramps, I don’t want to be a professor,” I told him. Gramps took any opportunity in a conversation to subtly redirect me to take up working at the lab. “Staying cooped up in a room like this all day? It sounds like hell. And boring.”

“Goodness, you hurt me sometimes, Leaf.” He clutched his chest in mock resent. “Researching is my passion. Do I look like a boring person to you?” I didn’t answer that question, which made him shake his head. “Here, I’ve got something to show you that you’re going to like.” He finished his drink and laid his mug on the table, standing up. “Come with me.”

I followed as Gramps bustled deeper into the lab, through some corridors and past the lab machines. Much of the equipment had a sleek shine to them, alongside a few gadgets unfamiliar to me. “Did you get new lab stuff?”

“Oh, yes, we did,” he said, his gait slowing to match my speed. “Some of the equipment was getting rusty, and our budget had gone up again, so we decided to replace the older apparatus.”

“Huh.”

As kids, Red, Blue, and I would initiate some of the grandest hide-and-seek games known to mankind in Gramps’ lab. The number of rooms in the place, alongside all the nifty secret places, made it the quintessential location for hide-and-seek. It was like an enormous labyrinth, easy to lose yourself in, but I think we’d played so many rounds inside there we’d memorised the whole lab.

Seeing all the new equipment, though, the place seemed foreign again. And I couldn’t say the last time I’d been this far in. If you made me go through this labyrinth again, I’d definitely get lost. I moved closer to Gramps.

Out of all the complicated lab tools, there was one that hadn’t been off-limits to us. “Gramps, where’s Sticky?” Sticky was this one machine the researchers used to label Poké Balls, where it would put stickers on the Balls to keep track of them (hence the name). But Sticky didn’t really care what it put a sticker on. So you could pop your hand into the machine and it’d print a sticker onto you. It was the most exciting highlight of our visits to Gramps, or so it had seemed in those days.

Gramps grinned. “I haven’t heard that name for a while,” he remarked. “We threw the old girl away.”

“What?” I stopped walking. 

He frowned at my distress. “She was getting rusty. And there’s better tech to keep track of Poké Balls now. We didn’t need her anymore.”  

It was such an irrational feeling, but I was sorry for not being able to say goodbye. I supposed I was still childish like that.

Gramps took me a little further in, into a tiny, dark room where a row of incubators lined the back wall. A faint red glow emanated from one switched on in the far corner.

“An Egg!” I cried. I ran up to the lit incubator, my hands pressing against the tepid glass as I leaned closer to take a better look. Inside, an Egg was cushioned, gently being kept warm. It was a small Egg, snowy white in colour and dappled with vibrant speckles. “Where did you get this?”

Gramps came up next to me. The small walk had left him panting, but he was warm when he explained, “Someone found it lying around in the bushes in the outskirts of Fuschia City and turned it in to us. We’re guessing a mother was struggling with finding food and abandoned it. The lab’s just looking after it until it hatches.”

“Poor baby…” The Egg, solitary in its incubator, looked so lonely. “You know what Pokémon is inside?”

“Hmm,” Gramps considered, wily. “Why would I tell you? There’d be no surprise, then,” he laughed.

“Come on, Gramps, you’re annoying me,” I said, but I was laughing too.

Just then, the Egg twitched. Gramps and I stopped laughing and stared at it in bated breath. But it made no more movement.

“Wh-what was that?” I was still fixed on the Egg, in case it decided to move again. It didn’t. “It was almost like… it was responding to our laughing?”

Gramps nodded sagely. “Eggs are sensitive to the emotions around them,” he said. “The environment of an Egg can actually alter the Nature of the Pokémon that hatches from it. Some Eggs, of course, are more sensitive than others…”

“Aah, don’t listen to him, it’s all a bunch of bullshit.” The lights flicked on. We turned around to see Blue sauntering in.

“Blue!” I exclaimed.

“Bonjour,” he replied haughtily, doing a half-assed bow.

“Alola.” I snickered at him. “I really love how you show up on time.”

“And who went and made you professor, young man?” Gramps used his stern voice but he was chuckling.

Blue put his hands on his hips, reproachful. “Honestly, that’s what I wanna ask you. Eggs aren’t even alive, how could they feel things?”

“Of course an Egg is alive.” Gramps straightened as if his honour was on the line. “It fulfils the basic criteria of life as an entity that is constantly developing and requires assimilation to maintain and support itself.”

“Well of course they’re alive in that sense,” Blue rebutted, equally fierce. “But are they conscious and functioning as a living Pokémon? No. And emotions are a type of response to stimulus. If there’s no stimulus, then by theory, there won’t be a response.”

“An Egg may not have full access to its environment but they tend to have a basic grasp of what is going on around them. I was discussing this with Professor Elm, and he was relating to me about how the social environment of an Egg can affect the Pokémon inside. Some Pokémon will even fail to hatch if they deem their surroundings unsuitable.”

He’d switched on to professor-mode and to be honest I’d switched off almost instantly. He went on for a while about something and then Blue said a point that was probably worth a few PokéYen because even though he didn’t look like one, he was a nerd, and the debate went back and forth for a while until Blue told Gramps to go back to his life’s work of the empty Pokédex.

This was our inside joke and I laughed and Gramps smacked Blue on the back and said, “Rascal.”

An assistant staggered in carrying two flat white boxes. He adjusted his glasses and then saw Gramps and adjusted them again, remembering he was in the presence of the Professor Oak and forgetting he was a qualified scientist being exploited to collect deliveries. “Uh, for you, Professor?”

“Oh, yay!” I cried.

We all went back to Gramps’ study-slash-break-area where we could set the pizza down and eat. I opened one of the boxes so I could have a slice. I took a bite, noticing Blue furtively glancing between Gramps and I, trying to gauge the atmosphere.

“You’re safe,” I said. “For today.” Next time, I wouldn’t hesitate to pull up diagrams.

Blue gave an exaggerated sigh of relief and dragged the other box towards him to pry it open.

“How’s your work going Blue?” Gramps asked. He had never been a big pizza fan but he pulled a slice towards him.

“Awful. I hate it,” moaned Blue.

Gramps flashed him a wry smile. “I thought it’d be right up your alley. Battling nine to five sounds like your jibe.”

“Forget battling, I’m doing paperwork half the time,” Blue said resentfully. “And, anyway, Gym battles are pathetic. I haven’t had a good battle in years.”

What Blue meant by a good battle was a battle he couldn’t win. In all of Kanto-Johto, there was only one person who Blue couldn’t win against. He looked at the floor, and I knew he was thinking of him now.

Oak sighed. “Maybe I should’ve sent you to the military instead.”

“Gramps!” cried Blue.

“A couple of years getting beat into shape and maybe you’d finally learn some decency.” He nodded approvingly.

“I’d rather inherit the lab,” Blue bit.

“I’d rather you inherit the lab too.” It wasn’t just me who was victim to the lab conversations, though Blue tended to get off easier.

Blue scoffed. “Yeah, maybe when I’m 60 like you.”

Gramps laughed, nibbling his pizza. “And how’s Red doing these days? I haven’t talked to him in a while.”

Blue and I turned dead quiet and the lively air between us vanished. Gramps, of course, wasn’t as daft as he looked and the casual tone of his disappeared as his frown lines came in.

“Is this about yesterday?” he asked. “Is everything alright?”

Of course nothing was alright, and I looked at him as if he was senseless to suggest it.

I was fidgeting as I tried to explain. “I woke up yesterday, and then I went to Celadon City, and there I…” I trailed off. What was I doing? Why was I recounting this like a story? No matter how far back I started from, I’d have to get to Red eventually. 

Blue came in clutch and cut the crap.

“Red has leukaemia and he’s gonna die,” he announced loudly.

I expected myself to grit my teeth from tension. Instead, my whole body deflated like I was relieved. 

Gramps was quiet. When neither of us wanted to elaborate further, he said, “Goodness, this is news, isn’t it?” We didn’t meet his eyes. “When did you find out?”

Blue spoke up again. “Just yesterday,” he said. He kept his voice controlled, but his fists curled so tight his knuckles were blanched. “He had a fever or something so Leaf took him to Viridian Hospital—oh, Lance was there too—and while looking over him they found cancer cells.”

“I see.” Gramps face was unplayful. “That must be where you two were last night.”

I pulled at the ends of my hair. “Yes.” The first slice of pizza had made me think I was ravenous but I didn’t have an appetite anymore. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”

Gramps looked at me sympathetically. “Who else is going to worry about you?” After a musing pause, he asked, “Is Red still in hospital?”

Blue let out a laugh. “Nah. Guess what he’s up to?” he remarked dryly, then answered himself. “Training.”

“Ho! If that isn’t unlike him,” said Gramps. “Well, I’m glad he’s doing alright right now.” No one was going to keep up this conversation, and Gramps took it upon himself to give us a lecture, or pep-talk, or maybe a combination of the two but equally Gramps-like. “Now, I know this is hard for you two. Red is very close to both of you and also me. It’s tough to know that you’ll lose someone—how long did the doctor say?”

“Twelve months,” Blue pitched in.

“Twelve months. That really isn’t long…” Gramps sighed. “This is going to be really difficult.” I saw him gather his own thoughts, careful about what he wanted to say. “Even dealing with this news is not easy for us. So I want you to imagine how much harder it must be for Red. It’s up to us to support him and stay by his side as much as we can.”

Blue cut in to spit, “He doesn’t want us.”

“That’s not true.” Gramps was still speaking evenly. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking right now.

“Yes it is,” said Blue. “He hates our guts. All he wants is to train, train, fucking train until he dies. That’s all he has in his life.”

“And is all you have in your life is to hate until your death?” Gramps sharpened, gazing at Blue. He was unusually ruthless, and it made Blue snap to, reluctantly paying attention. “The world is worth more than that. It has to be exhausting for one person to carry this much spite.”

Blue looked obstinate, then his shoulders slumped, defeated and a little dejected. “I don’t wanna hate him.”

Milder, Gramps conceded. “I know, dear.”

Gramps hardly called us anything other than our names, but when he did, dear was his favourite. He’d never been that good at telling us off, but that suited him. No matter how famous or groundbreaking he became, his kindness would always be his best quality.

“I can’t even begin to fathom who you got your pride from, but now I want you to fold it up and put it away. I know the two of you aren’t on the best terms, and amends to your relationship might be Farfetch’d… but I want you to apologise anyway, and I want it to be sincere. You will have an irreversible burden on your heart if you let him go without apologising. Listen, sometimes, it’s best to just surrender your pride. More important things are at stake.”

The words made me jolt up and stare at him. But Gramps’ eyes were on Blue. Even though they weren’t meant for me, I was shaken.

I was more surprised when Blue nodded. “Alright, I’ll try.” And he said nothing more.

“I don’t know what to do, Gramps,” I said. I didn’t even know if I had the right to do anything.

“It’s hard, Leaf,” and I’d have liked it more if he’d called me dear instead. It was my favourite name, too, but I guessed I was getting too old for it. He shuffled, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve had several Pokémon here at the lab pass away from neoplasia. It’s painful to even watch. I couldn’t begin to imagine what those Pokémon went through, let alone Red right now. I know you three aren’t as close as you used to be. But even if Red doesn’t show it, he doesn’t want to be alone.” All I could think about was how easy it would’ve been to tack a dear onto the end of any one of those sentences. “Red needs you now, more than ever.”

I heard him, I really did, but I wished he’d heard me too.

In the end, I was glad I ended up going to Gramps’. He was surprisingly comforting and he knew what he was talking about. It was probably because he was a professor, but also because he was my grandpa. By the time we were headed home I was feeling much better.

By some stroke of (bad) luck when we walked through the door we caught Red sitting on the ground next to the couch with Pikachu. He was clearly not expecting us because he jolted in surprise and started standing up to leave.

“Hey!” Blue called after him, but Red was already walking away. “Ugh, are you fucked in the head?” I shot him a bewildered look. We’d only just come from Gramps reminding us about the importance of kindness and to forget it all in a blink was such a Blue thing to do!

I slapped him on the wrist to keep him quiet.

“Sorry, Red, wait up, please.”

The combination of the please and sorry must have done it. I saw him freeze, throwing a glance over his shoulder.

“Could we talk?”

Begrudgingly, he turned to face us, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. I had exactly two minutes before he decided that was enough socialising for today.

“Firstly, for whatever happened this morning, I’m sorry. You have every right to be pissed at Blue,” I said. “But you have to understand that he only got so mad because we were worried about you.” I saw Red raise his eyebrows, thinking the exact thing I was thinking: be so for real right now. I kept talking. “The doctors said it was okay if you wanted to keep training, but you should have someone with you. Uh, just in case something happens while you’re out.”

His shoulders tensed, disagreement written over his every feature. The only thing stopping Red from walking away right now was that Pikachu had crawled closer to me to sniff my socks.

Blue had a good gauge of what Red thought about this and chipped in, “By the way, these are the hospital’s orders. So you either take Leaf with you or go back to a ward in Viridian.”

“Yeah, I… what?” His words processed and I stared at him, alarmed.

No one had told me this part of the plan. I’d hardly been outside regularly before yesterday. More than that, to have responsibility over someone… I couldn’t do it.

But who could? Blue was working at the Gym and Gramps was too old. I thought of Lance, but he was basically running the Plateau. It would be insensitive to ask him. In contrast, I had no duties and infinite time to spare. It was pretty obvious that I was the ideal candidate.

Red sensed my hesitation. He stepped closer, swiftly plucking Pikachu up. We heard the Pokémon’s mini squeaks of protest as he stalked upstairs.

“Blue, what the fuck?” I hissed as soon as he’d gone. “You want me to stay with Red?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

I don’t want to. The thought was so unbelievably clear that it horrified me. Red was meant to be my friend. He needed help, and I was about to reject offering it to him. But what did I really want to do? Would crying in my room for the rest of my life be an adequate end for me?

That wasn’t a valid answer, not for Blue and not for my life. The reluctance was so eerie. I didn’t know when I had become like this. 

“N-nothing’s wrong, I’ll… I’ll do it.”

That invincible friendship of ours had withered away a long time ago. And it would have been easy to blame our Pokémon journeys. We set off on our own paths and made rivals out of each other. But that had been the closest we ever were. It was what happened after that scattered us properly, the worst journey in the world. Growing up. 

Now we were all apart, maybe with our own glass walls, sturdy enough to be bulletproof. I chose the life I did. But I hadn’t ever known it would end up like this. And if I had, would I have done anything different? 

I hadn’t even wanted to be a Pokémon trainer, not as much as I had wanted to travel with my very best friends.

I remembered the envelope I’d found that morning. “Oh, there was a letter for you today.”

Blue’s head jerked up. “What’d it say?”

“I didn’t open it,” I said.

“That’s unbelievable coming from a nosy bitch like you. Since when did you learn about privacy?”

“There’s no such thing as privacy from your older sister,” I said scathingly. “Actually, it seemed official, so I left it untampered.”

He jeered. “What, the government would shoot you if you opened it?”

“Oh my Arceus!” I cried. “Do you want your mail opened or not?”

“Where is it?”

“I left it in my room.”

“You sure you didn’t open it?”

“If you keep nagging me, I might go do it now.”

We went upstairs, and as Blue stepped over the threshold into my room, I thought that it had been a while since he’d last been in there. In his usual style, he sauntered over to my desk to snatch up the letter. “Shit,” he said, examining the envelope. “It’s from Alola.”

My eyes widened. “Really? Alola has some nice post stamps. Do you know anyone living there?”

More serious, he tore the envelope open.

“What does it say?” I peeked over his shoulder. “This looks super important.”

He read through the first few sentences, disbelief pooling into his voice. “It’s an invitation. To Alola. They’re making a new battle facility. Looks like they want me to be a guest there for its opening.” He scanned over the rest of the contents. “Damn, they’re offering an all-expenses paid trip, so it seems like it’s a big thing.” He glanced over to see my astonished face. “What?”

“This is the coolest thing ever,” I proclaimed. “Let me see.” I swiped the letter from him to skim through it. He hadn’t been lying, this jerk really was invited. 

“Oi, give it back, shithead.” Blue jabbed me before smoothly tugging the letter back into his hands. I let him have it.

“You’ve gotten popular,” I said. “It feels like you get asked to go everywhere now.”

You’d be surprised by how often Blue got sponsors and promotions and the like. He had this odd charm that made people either love him or despise him. This meant that Blue would never be short of a date, managed excellent connections, and had a raring following on all of his social medias.

Notably, he visited Kalos to help out with Professor Sycamore with research on Mega-Evolution. (That’s right, Mega-Evolution is partially his doing, so every time you Mega-Evolve your Pokémon you now have an obligation to say, thank you, Blue Oak.) This made me jealous, because now he has a Wikipedia article with a section on his contributions to the scientific world and Professor Sycamore is so fine and I would have loved to meet him.

“Ugh, travelling is so annoying,” Blue groaned. 

“That is the most stuck up thing I’ve ever heard.” No one should have the right to react to an all-expenses paid trip to Alola like that. I had half a mind to slap him across the face.

He got to the end of the letter and swore.“Shit, the last day to let them know was a week ago.”

“Huh,” I said. “But we just got the mail.”

He grew suspicious, narrowing his eyes at me. “When was the last time you checked the mail?”

I was first guilty, then indignant. “…I don’t get mail!” I burst. “Why would I need to check it? When was the last time that you checked the mail, Mr. Rich and Famous?”

“I have better things to do,” he cut back.

It dawned on us that the mail could have come at the very least, more than two months ago.

“That’s an unfortunate loss.” He began scrunching the letter up.  “Whatever.”

I was taken aback by his lack of perseverance. “What? You’re not gonna try to contact them?” When he shrugged, I exclaimed, “This is a great opportunity. Call them back right now!” I swiped the letter from his hand with a smack to his wrist.

“Ow!” he snapped. He was about to aim for my shoulder, so I hit him again. “Fine, bitch, I will,” he resigned broodingly, caressing the place I struck.

“No, immediately!” I insisted. 

“Do you know what a time-zone is? It’s like 4AM in Alola right now. I’ll call them another time.”

I had him pinky promise to get back to them before I let him go. As the door shut behind him, all the energy in my body disappeared and I flopped onto my bed.

I hadn’t realised how tired I was, but I didn’t think I could fall asleep, anxiety leaving my head buzzing. I was worried about tomorrow.

I didn’t want to go outside and I didn’t want to talk to anyone and I didn’t want Red to look at me, knowing I was pathetic. 

How bad could it possibly go? you might ask.

Oh, as spectacularly bad as it could.

The first day I fully slept in and Red was long gone by the time I woke up. The morning after I set my alarm to seven-thirty and still missed him. For the next few days, I had to fiddle with my alarm for different times until I learned something new: that Red left the house every day at six in the morning. He tried to be as stealthy as possible, but the old attic door’s hinges were rusty and I heard it creak open from down the corridor. I sprang out of my room, dressed and ready, and couldn’t disregard the displeasure on his face.

I asked myself why I was trying so hard. 

I’m sure there are some hardcore Red fans out there that would just die to get a day out with him. Or some aspiring trainers that are begging for some behind-the-scenes. You’re so lucky, Leaf!

I did not feel this way. Being dragged from one place to the other all day long was exhausting. It would’ve been the most sun I’d seen and exercise I got in years, which just goes to show how unfit I’d become.

Red, on the other hand, was insane. He’d train right alongside his Pokémon (take notes, Champion wannabes) and it meant his stamina and capabilities were through the roof. I once saw him scale a 20 foot tree with such finesse he could’ve been a Skwovet.

To see Red train every day like that, you would think it would get boring. But I couldn’t help but be reminded of my own days as a trainer, and nostalgia would swamp me. The more I saw, the sadder I got.

Such nostalgia evolved into fearsome agony, as new, groundless regrets would develop. I became even more sure that I didn’t belong outside. And training with Red became unbearable.

Red certainly wasn’t helping, either. I swore he was trying to make my life as difficult as possible, choosing some of the most inhospitable locations in Kanto. Lavender Town, Diglett’s Cave, really? There was no way it could’ve been a coincidence. And he’d hardly acknowledged me, barely looked me in the eye. 

Forget any old affection I had for our friendship, better yet, sink it swiftly. I wasn’t that stupid—Red wanted me to fuck off.

Then came one particularly horrible day, when I woke up to ice lining my window and festering clouds. It was ideal weather for curling up in bed to binge a multi-season Netflix show, but for Red, as long as he could see light outside, his schedule persisted. He didn’t even have second thoughts as he left the house, without even wearing an extra layer.

In that merciless cold, he took off to the Seafoam Islands, the southmost, most freezing area of Kanto. I wouldn’t be able to stand the place for a moment. He’d perpetrated this against me, doing all of this just to push me away. That hurt, and I thought that it was apparent, Red hated me.

I had many thoughts as the cold chipped away at my steadfastness. Bit by bit, every insecurity that I thought I’d overcome came tumbling back, suffocating me. I didn’t really need to be babysitting Red like that, he wasn’t a kid. I was really only needed to stay out of sight. Too out of place in this world to ever seek aspiration, and too worthless to even show my face.

Who do you think you are, Leaf? Nothing will ever look up for you. 

But even as I thought that, I should have known. I wouldn’t normally persevere with something so frustrating for so long. Even if it was just overwhelming guilt making me, I’d challenged my own identity by sticking with someone for that long.

I was already a woman with whom I wasn’t familiar.

I hardly lasted an hour there. I trudged up to him, not daring to lift my gaze off the ground as I called out his name. “H-hey, Red, I think I left something home.” My tongue was lead; heavy and downright pungent. I was the worst person in the world.

I felt his eyes on me for a long time before he beckoned his Charizard over. He knew as well as I did I wouldn’t be coming back. I climbed onto Charizard, glancing over at Red in surrender. I didn’t know why, but the look he made left me feeling like I was shot in the chest. 

The cold finally got to me once I hit the skies. Burying my face into Charizard’s smooth neck, I started crying, reminding myself how pathetic I was. Red and I had been so close, but I felt like dirt when he looked at me. What changed?

We’re not really friends anymore.

It had never been Red who drifted away from me. Whenever I ran into him in the house, he’d pause, wait a fraction too long. I was the one who had cut ties with everyone, including him, because I craved isolation. No action I ever carried out reaped positively. I shouldn’t deserve to see the sun, instead, I was meant to be concealed in the corner of the house, hidden away in the attic.

But the attic was Red’s room, I told myself sourly.

Out of the blue, I remembered why Red lived with us in the first place.

Red’s parents and my parents had been friends since forever. Our mothers, especially, would do everything together. So you can imagine it was quite lovely when Red’s mum and my mum got pregnant at the same time. Blue and Red were born just a few months apart.

I was also pretty little, so the three of us were raised more or less together. You could say we were friends from the very beginning of our lives. I, of course, don’t remember much from then, but I get a very warm and happy feeling when I think of that time. They were good days.

When Red was six, a freak accident killed both his parents. Something about a new lamp combusting in their room during the night. Firefighters managed to rescue Red in one piece, but the lung damage from the smoke sent him to ER.

We visited him in the hospital. When he saw us, he sat up in his bed and started crying. He hadn’t seen anyone he knew in the past week. That was the first and last time I heard Red talk. He brought his tiny hands to his face and sobbed, don’t leave me.

And then something had happened and none of were friends and we drove ourselves to our own destructions until we found out: Red has cancer.

Red, having your dreams wrenched from you like that must be the most awful thing in the world.

Pity welled in my chest, an affliction that could have killed me.

Everyone chalked Red up to be some kind of mystical tough guy, too cool to talk, but that couldn’t be the truth. Beyond that impenetrable wall, I expected that he might be scared, and lonely.

I’d run away from Red when he’d needed me the most. I’d been doing a lot of running away in the last eight years. Fear and self-doubt backed me into a corner. It was what stopped me from doing what I wanted and prevented my progress. I didn’t have any courage. When something felt risky, I would avoid it entirely. 

Don’t leave me.

But I was tired of running away, actually. I wanted to run forward this time. 

I touched Charizard’s neck. “There’s been a change of plans.”

I flew back to Seafoam Islands for Red that day, because he didn’t deserve my cowardice. But, thinking back, that was also the first time in a long time that I’d done something for myself as well.

I won’t forget Red’s face when he saw me flying back. 

Hopping off Charizard, I marched up to him. “It’s freezing out here. We’re going home,” I demanded.

He turned his head away, not interested, but honestly, I wasn’t interested in his attitude. “Hey! Since I’m meant to look after you, I’m in charge. So what I say goes, and I say we’re turning back right now.” I put my hands on my hips, and cleared my throat, realising I was shouting. “Even if you’re okay to train in this shithole, think about your Pokémon,” I said, gesturing to Pikachu, who had fluffed up its sparse fur.

Without yelling, I wanted to give him a piece of my mind.  Summoning the most shit-eating grin on the planet, I knocked his chest.

“You wanna pull this stubborn act, trying to get rid of me? Fine, from now on, I’m going to be stubborn too! Get used to it, because from today you’ll have to deal with me every single day until you die!”

After acting out like that, I became flooded with embarrassment. Red looked so thoroughly confronted that he stood still, staring at me wide-eyed with his jaw ever so slightly slack. Wasn’t that too much audacity? It emerged so naturally for me.

I’d tapped into someone who I thought I wasn’t anymore. My shoulders trembled, but I maintained eye-contact, wanting to be that person for a little longer.

“So, pack up. We’re leaving.”

It was hard to tell, because he pulled his cap over his face, but I swore I saw him smile.

Before we got home I bought hot chips, the ideal food for any weather, but especially snow. I trapped Red in the living room, lest he cued a second escapade, and ordered him to stay there (a brief lapse into obedience on his part). I dumped blankets over us and turned on the TV and we watched ‘90s movies until I fell asleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night to see that I’d dozed off on Red’s shoulder. He hadn’t moved at all, instead was asleep in a half-upright position with his arms crossed. If I’d slept any other way on the couch, I would’ve awoken with an awful cramp in the morning.

I think that was the first time that I realised I could make change.

I meant it—I would stick to my word. The next day, I got up extra, extra early so I could surprise him with pancakes for breakfast.

Unfortunately, I will forever be proper shit at cooking and so it wasn’t the delicious aroma of pancakes that made Red hurry to the kitchen but the smell of burning. I should’ve known I wasn’t good at anything, but Red didn’t bash me for the near fire hazard I’d executed. He sat down, looking at the black stack of pancakes on his plate and ate them all without hesitation. I didn’t even think they’d be edible.

Even watching him train wasn’t so bad anymore.

His Pokémon actually were more than strong, they were also quite lovely (except Pikachu, who would always be a nasty bastard). Sometimes he’d get me to fly around Kanto with him on Charizard, or board Lapras if we were around water, and I don’t think I could ever settle for a jetski or speedboat ever again.

When I decided there had been enough training for one day, and I was the one deciding, I’d make him stop, and so some days we’d spend the afternoon and the evening going through cities and towns. I thought he’d hate it, but he’d never refused me. To be honest, we’d usually just hop from one food place to another.

Ah, I was thinking we should’ve kept track of them, but I’m glad we didn’t. I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing all the places we never got to.

-x-

A few times, I had the opportunity to visit the Indigo Plateau, to accompany Red on Champion business.

It was a rather exciting prospect. Made with a bottomless budget and upkept regularly, the Plateau was absolutely colossal and jaw-droppingly beautiful. I’d never seen it in person before. It would have been a spectacular view to stagger out of Victory Road and see it glistening in the distance. I spent one second seething with pining and jealously, then ceased it. It was my fault, anyway, that I’d never made it there.

Lance was waiting at the front to greet Red. I didn’t notice him at first. We went there in the late afternoon, and so the Plateau was casting a huge, dark shadow over much of the land and he was just sitting on its steps, like an unimportant kid would, perhaps, maybe waiting for his mother, but not anyone like him.

He got up, once he saw us, and because of the shadow, he seemed extra ominous. But he said, “Ah, you’re here,” and his voice was warm.

I was no Champion, so I thought I might have to wait outside, but when Lance and Red were about to walk in, Red glanced back at me expectantly. Then Lance invited me to join them.

I got a little shy listening to Champion matters. As a matter of fact it was not as top-secret as I had thought and mostly maintenance of the League. Turns out Lance was responsible for organising most things. When Red first ascended he’d been too young to handle such matters and Lance kept doing administration work. I guessed that dynamic never really wore off. Lance would present Red with a quick-fire summary of the week and receive Red’s metaphorical seal of approval for decisions. 

It wasn’t an ultra-professional set-up, but it was still important work that had to be done. And Arceus, was it so, so boring. Every time I was there I had to force my eyes to stay open.

Red hated it even more than I did. Irritated, he would slide down further in his seat with each of Lance’s sentences, until he’d slam his hands on the table and walk off, deciding enough work had been done.

I didn’t feel as sorry for Lance for dealing with Red as I did for Red himself. It was some of the most lifeless work I’d seen in my life. I’ve some more respect for Blue now—he wasn’t kidding, paperwork is the worst.

Lance always asked the same question at the end, after Red would disappear.  “How has Red been?” He’d sit up straighter in his chair and adjust his shoulders, as if we’d finally reached the important part of the conversation. Asking Red the question was futile. A shrug was never going to encapsulate the details of his ongoings.

“He’s been… training.” That was the honest answer. We’d have an occasional venture here and there, but Red would always come back to training.

“And his health?” Lance would ask.

“Um, okay,” I would say.

I never really understood what exactly Lance wanted out of that question. Red was due to visit the hospital for a general check-up once every week, but Lance would be the one to take him. It was the one day I got to sleep in, and when Lance dropped him home, I’d be reported to about a stable condition, which I thought was a fucked thing to say, since, really, he was dying. It didn’t matter how slowly, it was happening and it was real.

Lance should have known better than me about Red’s health. But he’d ask me anyway.

If you thought that Lance was the scariest guy in the world, you’d be right. Oh, that’s what I thought back then, haha. I used to be straight up terrified of him. He’s got the build of an MMA fighter and doesn’t smile much, so I get where I was coming from. (Whenever Red left the two of us alone, I’d begin praying silently.) 

Unfortunately, the rumours are as true as ever, Lance really was as amazing as people claim. Though, it took him more than a month to prove it to me.

He’d always been really kind towards me. After Red, he’d always ask about myself, and slowly our conversations would veer off-topic as I became a little more comfortable in his presence.

Sometimes I got bold and asked daring questions. “What’s going to happen to the throne?”

Lance jerked as if he was about to pull back. He sighed, rubbing his jaw. “I’m still not sure,” he conceded. “I haven’t needed to think about it thus far. Red’s still doing quite well. My top priority is to stop this from reaching news stations because that would definitely wind up detrimental… so far, a success.

"But we will eventually need to think about a new Champion. I suppose us Elite Fours will have to battle each other for the title,” he said, which was humble of him, considering that it was general knowledge that Lance was easily the most powerful of our Elite Four. “Or we might have to resort to going Champion-less, waiting for another aspiring young trainer with big dreams.”

“You’ll find another Red?” As soon as the words left my mouth I knew I was wrong. 

Lance’s response was spontaneous. “That’s impossible,” he said with certainty. “There’s no one quite like him.” He sighed thoughtfully, crossing his arms. “What a dilemma. What will the Plateau do without him?”

At that point, the conversation was already driving itself into unsalvageable territory and Lance cut it off neatly and offered to walk with me on the way out. He’d taken me almost to the gates when we saw this gorgeous woman glide into the League.

Lance eyed her. “Karen, you already know what I have to say.”

Karen. She was new to the League, joining in Agatha’s place, but she’d already amassed an incredible fanbase. I watched her debut live and thought she was the coolest person I’d ever seen. Meeting her in real life, she seemed very intimidating. And had very big boobs.

She groaned at Lance, immaculately flicking a chunk of hair over her shoulder. “I don’t remember there being any rules about a dress code,” she said. Her voice was pretty. “I think it’s concerning how much you care about what I wear to work.”

“Don’t make me out to be some misogynistic prude,” he said curtly. “You constantly astonish me at how you are able to violate every law of the Industrial Safety and Health Act at once. And before you say it, risking your welfare is not a fashion slay.”

Karen’s lips pursed as if she was about to interject with the very words.

“Your long hair should be tied up to protect it from any generated wind on the field, and all of your jewellery is an extreme hazard to any Electric or Fire-type moves.” He squinted at her prim Zapdos-yellow pumps. “And don’t get me started on those ridiculous heels.”

Being scolded like this would have left me sobbing, but Karen just sounded a chic hmph. “Easy for you to say, big boy.”

Lance frowned with displeasure.

“These shoes are the only thing saving my height. And I’ll dress like this at any price—the Indigo League is in desperate need of a baddie.”

Her self-assured demeanour was magnetic and I would’ve struck her to be in her late twenties, but from the way she spoke, she was probably closer to my age. What a shock! The two of us had to be worlds apart.

Her crystalline eyes fell on me and I failed to maintain eye contact. “Wow, Lance, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a woman. I was so sure of your asexuality.”

Lance remained flat, not in the least bit humoured. “Don’t misinterpret, Karen. This is an acquaintance of mine, Leaf. And I do wish you’d stop relying on Will’s tarot card readings to decree my sexuality.”

“So you’re still single? How embarrassing for your big age,” she said airily. She waved at me, one hand on her hip. “Hey, beautiful.” My face immediately went red. I was the ugliest I had ever been. I’d had wit enough to style my hair but the limp mop was nothing compared to her cascading waves. And that striking smile she flashed when she purred, “I’m Karen.”

 “Oh, uhm, hi,” I said, pathetically.

“What’s the occasion, guys?” she asked.

Lance, the quick thinker, said, “I was just giving Leaf a tour of the place.” I wondered why he hadn’t been honest and realised he wouldn’t have wanted to explain everything.

“Oh, that’s so cool.” Her arms folded as she tilted her head. “I did see Red out the front,” she said thoughtfully. “Is he waiting for you?”

“He’s waiting for Leaf,” said Lance.

Karen nodded mildly. “Don’t make him wait, he’s in a bad mood…wait, Leaf?” She seemed to regard me in a different way. “Leaf… as in, Leaf Oak?” she said, amazement creeping into her tone. “The Leaf Oak, yes?”

It was said in such awe that I was tempted to believe that she was perhaps referring to another Leaf Oak entirely, one that actually was famous. “I… think so,” I stuttered out, then heated, realising how stupid I’d sounded. “I—I mean, I am. You know me?”

“Of course I do.” She was impossibly warm. “You helped dismantle Team Rocket, right? I’m a big fan of yours. I didn’t recognise you because you look different from your photo in the paper all those years ago.” She smiled at me, and I shivered. It felt different to be perceived. “You’re pretty." She turned back to Lance, fiercer. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing Leaf Oak to the Plateau!”

“Should I have? So you could put on something even more outré?” He was so dry it surprised me. “Frankly, I hadn’t struck it to be your business.”

The way Karen responded told me that the two of them had likely an eccentric relationship. “You are effortlessly a bastard,” she declared sprucely. “Arceus will punish you, actually, it already has… that pesto pasta in the break room fridge, that was yours, right? It was relocated. Like an hour ago.”

She gestured meaningfully to her stomach, still coy.

“I can’t believe I got to meet Leaf Oak in the flesh.” In expression of her delight, she wrapped me into a gripping hug, making me privy to experience every bit of her huge tits. She pulled away after way too long, and wondered aloud, “You’re still friends with Red? That’s good…”

She suddenly sounded more reserved.

“It is?” I said, still recovering from her hug.

“Yeah, well. He’s kinda standoffish, and always super focused, so I don’t bother him much. He’s a cool guy, though. I thought I was serious about Pokémon training until I met him. His dedication is absurd, in the best way possible! I wish I could tell him how much respect I have for him, and how much I like him. I’m totally speaking on behalf of all of the Elite Four here.” When Karen glanced at Lance, he nodded. “I’m glad there’s all these people who are on his side but I feel like Red’s clueless about it,” she explained. “He’s a good guy, but whenever I see him… he looks lonely.”

An image sparked in my mind, the glass wall Blue had mentioned conjured into a physical barrier. So-called unbreakable, but I realised that this whole time, my fist had been curled. Around a hammer. 

Karen laughed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been taking up so much of your time… Red’s probably dying waiting.” She bowed to me, snappy and sweet, the promptest bower I’d ever met in my life, but still sincere. “Arceus, but isn’t the Plateau just like, gorg? Especially the Hall of Fame after the last renovation…”

The blank look on my face was my fault, and Karen gasped.

“You didn’t take her?” She looked appalled. “You’re unusually daft, Lance.” She wielded daft in a way that it was apparent she had picked it up from Lance himself. She pulled her fist to her chest. “Come back to the Plateau again, okay? Next time, I’ll give you a proper tour, Hall of Fame and all,” she promised.

She strutted away, a practised walk. Lance shook his head. “That woman has to be one of the top three stressful ordeals in my life,” he said, with tangible affection. “Apologies, let’s keep walking.”

We made it to the gates within a moment, and Lance hesitated before pushing them open.

“Ah, and, Leaf, about spending your time with Red… It’s much appreciated, don’t misunderstand, but…” he frowned. “You’re sacrificing a lot of time. Are you alright with it?”

“Oh, I don’t mind.” I said, and gave him a sideways look as I carefully said my next words. “I… I’m not actually doing anything right now.” A thinly veiled way of saying I’m fucking unemployed and I have zero life!

I could imagine Lance boring holes into me. “I can understand that. Sometimes it’s good to take a few years to figure yourself out.” Like he would know. And I wasn’t figuring myself out, it had been eight years. I was driving myself insane. “My point remains.” His hand lifted to rest against a gate. “You’re doing a lot. Thank you, sincerely. I wish there was more that I could do for Red.”

I smiled to myself and nodded. “Yeah, I get that.”

“It was pleasant talking to you. I hope you will contact me if needed.” He pushed the doors open. “Now, Red’s probably waiting for you.”

“Thanks again, Lance.” I stepped into the light outside.

I heard him say, “No problem,” as I ran down the steps to where Red was waiting, cross-legged on the grass.

-x-

I also made Red visit Gramps.

Red hated going to the lab, which was funny, since before—before he was a trainer—you could never keep him out of it. He was so fascinated with Gramps’ work. Or the Pokémon. Probably the Pokémon. Now all those years later, I had to force him there and when we got there he lingered by the door, averse to entering.

I dragged him in by the wrist. “Hello, Leaf…ah, you brought company today.” Gramps was reading again. Seeing us, a warm smile blended onto his face.

“Hi, Gramps,” I said.

He waved his hand. “Heavens, I’ve had quite enough of you already, let me talk to Red.”

“Hey!” I cried in mock offense, moving out of the way.

Red approached Gramps, until he was just on the other side of the coffee table. Red glanced down at him, expression undecipherable.

Though he was stubborn, and could act like a rogue, Red would always listen to Gramps. There was some kind of immutable respect that I couldn’t fully discern. Sometimes, it felt mutual.

“You’ve grown so tall, Red,” said Gramps. The crinkles around his eyes seemed more prominent than ever. “Take a seat, it’s hard to look up.”

Red sat down next to the seat beside Gramps, and his Pikachu scampered into his lap.

“How is training going? Any good battles?” asked Gramps.

Red shrugged.

“Your Pikachu doing well?”

He shrugged again. Pikachu, preening itself, cut in to chirrup contemptuously, tilting its head.

Red sighed, then looked back to Gramps, nodding this time.

Pikachu gave a cry of approval, butting its head against Red’s hand.

Gramps laughed. “That seems about right. It’s looking quite healthy.” He smiled at the Pokémon, but not for too long. He hardly let the room turn quiet. “Have you been having fun?”

Red paused before he nodded.

“Any plans?”

He shook his head.

“Ah… you really have gotten big. Not much of a kid anymore. No wonder you don’t pop by the lab these days.”

Red didn’t react. It was such a back-and-forth conversation. I thought that Gramps was getting nowhere. 

Gramps beamed. “Still, thank you for visiting me,” he said. “Now, scram and enjoy yourself. You have better things to do than talk to an old man like me. Have fun, and don’t be too reckless…”

It sounded incomplete, and I realised how much more suited it would be if he’d just said, Don’t be too reckless, dear. But Gramps didn’t say it. I couldn’t remember him calling Red dear even once before.

The conversation was so dry it bothered me. But Red stood up, dipping his head at Gramps in a way he wouldn’t afford to anyone else.

There was something between them that I wouldn’t be able to understand. The short, clipped conversation suited Red, who wouldn’t take heed of any of the crap Gramps speaks anyway.

“See you, Gramps,” I said, also preparing to leave, but he clicked his tongue.

“Not you, Leaf. I still have some words with you.”

I swore under my breath. “Red shouldn’t be travelling alone,” I protested.

“Weren’t you due to head home anyway? I’m sure Red can make that short journey himself. I just need a few minutes,” Gramps said.

I caved, watching Red disappear out the door enviously. Gramps didn’t say anything, so I asked, “What is it?” a little bitter. “Are you mad at me?”

“Quite not.” Gramps continued to be silent.

“Then what—”

I fell quiet, hearing a small noise. I furrowed my brows to listen carefully.

I hadn’t imagined it. Another shuffling sound.

I glanced over to the curtains. There was an unusual bulge protruding from them. I squinted. After a few moments, the curtains were thrown askew and Blue walked out.

“Blue?!” I exclaimed in horror. “What—why… I—were you hiding behind the fucking curtains?”

“Fuck off.” Blue’s face was very red and he was staring very hard at the ground.

“Language,” Gramps said, sighing at the sight of him.

“Arceus,” I breathed, then burst into laughter. “You idiot, you idiot. You’re actually so dumb.”

“Let’s not talk about that.”

“On the contrary, I’m never going to shut up about it!” I said in glee. “You’re such a baby, running away and hiding.”

“What was I meant to do? I didn’t know he was coming!” Blue griped. “You didn’t tell me about this!” He looked at Gramps accusingly.

I gave him a cloying grin. “Actually, it was a surprise visit. I’m so glad I dropped by! The look on your face right now is fucking price-less.” I lifted a hand and jabbed him hard on his arm.

“Ow!” He glared at me. 

“Aww, did I hurt the baby’s feelings? Sorry, baby.” I was pushing my luck in the presence of Gramps. Anywhere else and Blue would’ve already brandished half the defamatory language he knew and landed a few retaliatory punches. “Why was my itty bitty baby hiding?”

“I found out Red was coming and I panicked,” he said sorely.

I frowned. “I mean, I didn’t know you guys were on no-talking terms.”

“Leaf, I think he’s always on no-talking terms.”

“Screw you, you’re right.”

“It’s impressive that the two of them are still at it,” Gramps remarked. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” I murmured, less withering. I was sure that it was more complicated than a little grudge. After all, no one except them knew exactly what happened in that Champion’s room all those years ago. When I smiled at him, I hoped my despondency didn’t show. “What happened to making up?” I wanted everything to be okay so fiercely.

He pulled at the collar of his jacket. “I’m working on it.”

“Are you really?”

He shrugged, not looking at anything except his own shoes. “I mean, I have a 400 word page on my Notes app on my phone,” he said. “If that counts.”

“Oh wow, let me see!” Thinking now this should be gold, I made a swipe for his phone.

He swiftly reeled his arm away, holding his phone behind his back. “Hell no.”

I made one more attempt before crossing my arms. “You’re right, it's probably cringe anyway. Still, I’m surprised you’re putting in the effort. Good job.” The praise coming off a little too sincere, I veered topics. “By the way, did you end up calling the company?”

“Yeah, I did. They told me no worries. Get this, Gramps,” said Blue, snapping his fingers, “Alola wants me to host the opening of the Battle Tree!”

“Battle Tree?” I interjected. “That’s where we’ve come to, from Battle Frontier to Battle Tree?”

“It’s set in the middle of the forest,” Blue defended, which was even more ridiculous. “And you won’t believe it, but I get to take a plus-one.”

“A plus-one?” I echoed. “Like a date?”

Date made Blue jolt and recoil. “No, don’t be stupid, Leaf,” he snapped. “Obviously it’s like a battle companion.”

“Really?” I mused. “Who are you gonna take?”

His ears went aflame. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“You’re taking Red?” I asked.

“I didn’t say anything!” he exclaimed.

Gramps and I looked at each other before deciding to totally ignore him. “It’s a nice idea,” Gramps said. “And it’s very much something Red would appreciate and enjoy. You have my approval.”

Blue sighed, looking glum. “Thanks, Gramps.” He gave up on the act so quickly that seeing his doleful face made me feel really sorry for him.

“First things first though,” I reminded, “we gotta patch this mess up.”

He jutted his chin out, defiant. “I will,” he said, impressing me with his resolve. “I’ll give him the biggest fucking sorry this world’s ever seen.”

“With a tongue like yours, I would relish to see you try, dear.” It made me tremble, because, hey, Gramps, where’s my dear?

Then I remembered that I didn’t ever try, so I didn’t deserve to be called something like that.

“Don’t overdo it,” I instructed him. “You’ll sound fake otherwise.”

Blue nodded. “I know.”

Gramps, the eternal poet, decreed to us, “You’ll find that all good things are found better from the heart than from the head.”

Blue sniffed. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard.”

“I’m not telling you to not use your head, rascal,” Gramps cut back, “I get enough of that from you already. I’m only saying sometimes the purest version of yourself is the most appreciated. Say what you think needs to be said.”

“I know what I wanna say,” Blue affirmed. “But I… ugh, when do I even get to tell him? I can’t imagine how I’d pull him over.”

“You needn’t find time. Time will find you.” said Gramps, bullshitting as per usual.

But Blue was really trying to be a better person. I could see it, and I thought I’d help him out, as much as I could, anyway. That was what I’d promised, hadn’t I?

And so when I got back home, I made a plan.

I called Erika and asked her if I could borrow her Gym. We’re on amicable terms because I was a dedicated member of her gardening club… for about three weeks. Because, you know, I never stuck through with anything at all. 

However, she was nice enough to let me use the Celadon Gym’s battlegrounds. It was a Sunday that day anyway, so all the Kanto Gyms would’ve been closed.

Unlike all the other Gym Leaders, though, I can’t pinpoint exactly what Erika does in her free time. Maybe women?

With an ironclad training schedule and a disinterest for practically everything, I was at a loss of how to lure Red into the Celadon Gym when he was so fixated on Pokémon. I’d conjured up a method to bait him in with the promise of some rare species, but I needn’t have worried. I only had to ask him to join me—Red showed to be unusually and beautifully obedient. I hadn’t even needed to resort to my Plan B (considerable begging and screaming).

The impossible part was convincing Blue.

Hey, could you see me inside Celadon City’s Gym?

Why the fuck would I do that.

Pls??

No.

Not an option.
You have to.
I’ll see you there, asshat.
Sunday, 3.00 SHARP. Like, actually sharp. This is the one time you should be on time.

I am not wasting my day off from the Gym, going to the Gym. This was so out of the blue. [Leaf reacted HaHa! to this message.]
What crazy thing are you on?
Hello?
HELLO ???
Fuck you.

That was my best effort. After that, I could only hope and pray. 

On the big day I took Red to watch a really scary movie before I took him to the Gym. I’m still unhappy that I couldn’t get more of a reaction out of him, except he walked out of the theatre seeming especially sucked of his life force. I was betting on this. Too out-of-it to protest, I easily dragged him to Celadon.

The lights were off when we got inside. I led him through the Gym in the dark until we reached the battle arena. I faltered, suddenly anxious about my plan.

Blue emerged from the shadows, having shown up early. He must’ve heard our footsteps.

His breath caught seeing Red. For a while, nothing happened, they stared at each other in dumfoundedness without either of them making a move.

Red turned to look at me, but I’d already peeled myself away from them. 

The stadium flooded with light. 

I hopped from where the switch was to scramble onto the little platform on the side of the stage, the whistle on the cord around my neck swinging (again, borrowed from Erika).

I mustered my words, but lost them as soon as I opened my mouth. “W-w-we will now… have a battle between… between Champion Red and Viridian Gym Leader Blue. S-six Pokémon…. last one standing.” I’d memorised the exact words of the professional announcements, the ones they’d use in League matches, but I didn’t have the grandiose of a commentator and my cheeks bloomed. I felt silly.

“Leaf, what the fuck…” With his eyes narrowed and lip curled Blue had never looked more like he wanted me to eat shit.

But Red adjusted his hat. His posture had unslacked and his hand curved around a Poké Ball. Good on him, of course he wouldn’t turn down a battle. Blue noticed this, and I saw his defiance crumble away, revealing what lay underneath.

Nervousness. And unbridled anticipation. 

“I’m not ready for this,” he mumbled, fingering the pouch on his hip. “I need time to prepare…”

I wasn’t ready, either. I wasn’t ready to tackle something that didn't involve me and I wasn’t ready to mess with something I couldn’t be certain about the outcome of. When was I ever ready? I was always short of perfect, never ending up good enough. But if I kept postponing everything until I was ready, I might have to wait forever. 

I asked Blue, “You have six good Pokémon with you right? There’s a PC out the front.” You don’t have to be ready. It’s okay.

His fingers slipped and his satchel flipped open. A number of Balls filled it. He stayed fixed on them, still hesitant. “Uh, no, I got my usual team on me.”

“Tremendous,” I said. “Then, if we have no more qualms…” They shook their heads. I clapped my hands, nodding. “Let the battle… begin!” I poured my lungs into that whistle.

And then played out one of the most beautiful battles in history.

I won’t try to describe it to you.  Because I could never do that battle justice. I’d watched probably thousands of trainers on the field fight, and been in their shoes countless times. Though I hadn’t done either in such a long while. But it was different. It was a battle between the two most powerful trainers in Kanto.

It was something flowering from the culmination of every obstacle overcome, every Gym defeated, every city crossed, every Route travelled. Every drop of sweat and tears they’d shed to get this far. They seemed infused with their Pokémon, each action ordained in a lovely rhythm, cultivated from irreplicable experience.

I was captivated.

The action on the battlefield caused the platform I was on to shake. And each vibration crawled into my heart and tugged at it, making me miss my journey more than I ever had. 

By the time the battle ended, I was so breathless I’d forgotten to blow the whistle.

Of course, Red won the fight. That was something all three of us knew before we even started.

But so what? That battle didn’t have winning at stake.

There was something else, something deeper trapped between the two of them, like they had bared their ambitions and anxieties alongside their Pokémon on that field and sacrificed their hearts in order to unravel the pent up tension that simmered between them for all those years. Years of not being friends.

Blue eloquently recalled his last Pokémon, so full of decorum. But he didn’t say anything.

The adrenaline in the room was palpable. But as the high rode off, the silence became uncomfortable.

Neither Blue nor Red made eye contact with each other, Blue forcibly so and Red as if it came to him with ease.

The wordless apathy concluded as Red turned around and began walking away. I wasn’t surprised, but I was disappointed.

What did you expect, Leaf? What did you think was going to happen?

I tensed my shoulders and stepped daintily off the platform, reproachfully pulling the cord through my hair as I tugged the whistle off me.

But then, Blue curled up his fists and sucked in a big breath. “Red, wait.” Tap. Tap. The footsteps stopped.

Blue was trembling slightly as he got out the next words.

“I’m sorry.”

Red lifted his head.

“For pushing you into the pool at Cerulean Gym. I’m sorry. For locking you in the bathrooms at Saffron City so I could get to the Gym first. I’m sorry. For tripping you on the stairs on the S.S. Anne and making you split your chin. I’m sorry. For abandoning you in the Pokémon Tower, because I’m a pussy and I’m scared of ghosts. I’m sorry. For you having to take on Giovanni all by yourself. I’m sorry, for all of that and a billion other things… and maybe I still wouldn’t be sorry enough. I’ve been kind of—no, a massive jerk to you your whole life. And then I got older and realised that I never really hated you, and that what I want most of all, is to keep being friends. And by then I’d realised that I don’t deserve something like that. So I thought I’d change myself, until I wasn’t a dickhead, and then ask to be your friend. But now you’re going to die and I’m still a dickhead so I thought… I thought the very least I could do is apologise for it.” His voice cracked here. I remember, because it was funny, and also because I’d never seen him so emotional. “I’m sorry.”

That fucking awful silence washed over the stadium again, nothing except the sound of Blue floundering for breath like he was dying.

Then, tap. Tap.

Red slowly turned around, moving closer until he was standing right in front of Blue. With Red’s chin lifted, and Blue, coiled in remorse and shame, his head firmly down, their height difference was more prominent than ever. Though I’d never noticed it before. Blue had always been the taller one as a kid.

Red gazed down at Blue’s miserable form. Then he plucked his hat off himself and jammed it onto Blue’s head.

The force made Blue stumble forward. “A-ah… the fuck…?” He pushed the baseball cap up from his eyes to see Red already padding away. 

I found my feet and went to flick the giant stadium lights off before joining Blue’s side. He kept blinking, stunned. “Hey, I’m proud of you,” I told him, running my hand down his back.

“He hates me.”

“No he doesn’t.”

“He just left.”

I knocked the side of his head. “He left his hat behind. Guess you’ll have to give it to him.”

He pulled the cap off, surveying the battered state of the brim and the colour, which had faded to a dull crimson. My own porkpie hat had become ruddy, and I kept it stowed at the back of my closet like an antique, but Red had kept using his all through those years. Blue stroked the shabby cotton and asked, “Sh-should I go now?”

I tossed him a smirk. “Run, dumbass.”

He took one flustered look at me then bolted, chasing after Red. “Hey!”

I watched him sprint away, stumbling from eagerness. When he reached the doors, he hopped back around. “Leaf!” he called. “Thank you.”

And seeing him smile made it all worth it.

-x-

Mornings are the least pleasant, I believe, with Blue poking you awake.

“What’s wrong, asshole?” I groaned, turning over. 

“Wake up, you Snorlax,” he demanded. 

I squealed as he threw the blanket off me. “Can’t you let me sleep? I just solved like a decade’s worth of grudges.” The light outside still seemed pale, which was reason enough to not get out of bed. 

“Let you sleep?” He grabbed me by the ankle, and with one smooth tug, had me sprawled on the floor. “How are you going to sleep when we’re going to the Safari Zone?”

“Fuck…” Falling from my bed had knocked some clarity into me, and for the first time I noticed how eager he sounded. “The… Safari Zone?”

“Yes,” he said, with a huge grin on his face. “We’re having a day trip.”

I sat up, rubbing my eyes. “I don’t want to ever go near a Safari Zone in my life ever again.”

“But you’re coming, right? You have to come.” The way he asked, so imploring and childish, made my chest quash. It had been years on years since the two of them hung out. After yesterday, I thought my job was done, but I didn’t expect to have an ongoing role. Maybe, I thought, I matter more than I realise? 

“Fine,” I said. “Let me put my clothes on.”

“Hell yeah!” cried Blue, springing out of my room. I laughed at his stupid ass. 

Close enough, welcome back Blue-fucking-Oak.

I was just about to pull off my pajamas when he poked his head back in. “And by the way, he said yes!” he announced.

I had no idea what he was talking about, so my mind gravitated to the natural implication. “You’re getting married?”

“No, don’t be stupid, Leaf,” and I thought that I had enough of being called dumb recently. “He said yes to coming with me to the Battle Tree!” 

“Good on you,” I said, and he nodded sharply before slamming the door. I heard him hopping away, humming some butchered tune. 

When I lugged myself downstairs, Red was waiting by the front door. His old cap was restored to his head and he was absently tugging Pikachu’s tail. Seeing me, his hand stilled, then he raised his palm at me in greeting.

I lifted my own hand. Red tilted his head. His mouth curved. A tiny grin.

Blue appeared above us by the banister and barrelled down the stairs, whooping out, “Let’s get going!” Bounding over, he attempted to throw his arm over Red’s shoulder, was too short to, and settled for my shoulder instead. “Safari Zone, here we come!” He flicked a keyring to his fingertips, jangling a key.

I wrestled his arm off. “What’s that?” No one bought cars in Kanto if they had a Pokémon to transport them, but Blue seemed like the type to waste money into acquiring a shiny red sportscar.

“How else are we gonna get to Fuschia…” Blue grinned, “if not by boat?”

I gasped. “You bought a boat?!” In fact, a car would have been more reasonable.

“Rented. Just for today. It’ll be the sickest thing in the world,” he promised.

My heart attack ebbed. “Oh, that can’t be too expensive, then,” I said, beginning to yield to the idea.

“Yeah, not too bad.” Blue trounced out the door. “I paid in full yesterday for the boat. About 1.5 million PokéYen for twelve hours.”

I went back into cardiac pain, and Pikachu squeaked in audible astonishment. 

Blue has utterly no grasp on anything financial. He never checks his bank account and purchases a new designer piece every other week. And he surrenders himself to every impulse he gets to buy anything. Actually, it isn’t that he has no grasp, I think it’s just called being rich as fuck. Well, this rich as fuck guy went and rented a "boat".

Another thing: he has no idea exactly what he invests into.

We travelled down to the little jetty south of Pallet Town and discovered that, in fact, it was not a boat. It was a luxury private yacht with the most beautifully purring engine and sleekest white hull. No wonder it cost half a kidney. I stepped on delicately, afraid to tread too hard on the yacht. Then Red from behind me hoisted himself on and jumped onto the deck with a thud. Another rich as fuck person with no appreciation for the expensive. 

I’d never been on such a fancy watercraft in my life, and never will again, I reckon. I think I’ve rode more Pokémon in the water than boats. I thought that went for all of us, but I looked up and saw Blue in the pilothouse.

After heavy gesturing I got him to open the window.

“You don’t have a boating licence,” I called out, as I saw him rumage around before pulling out a captain’s hat, which he screwed onto his head.

“I sure don’t,” he agreed. “But chill. I’m so all over it.”

I was about to shriek but Red had already scurried into the cabins. If Red wasn’t concerned then maybe I shouldn’t be either, right? Like there was anything to be concerned about crashing into when you’re in the big blue sea. I composed myself and asked, “Haha, alright. How’d they let you rent this without a licence?”

“Oh, I lied,” he said blatantly, and revved the engine to drown out my screams.

We whizzed out of Pallet’s rickety port, Blue handling the yacht like he was manning a jetski. A toy jetski. I threw up only once, which I felt was an achievement. Red threw up four times. Blue’s confidence was to marvel for, but not at the expense of my own health.

He got the hand of it after half an hour and we were cruising along the water at an easy pace. Pikachu was curled up in my lap and I was slumped back on a seat, head back and mouth ajar like I was lapping up the sun. Once Red had poked through every nook and cranny, he leaned against the edge of the yacht and kept his eye out for different Pokémon in the water.

It was really beautiful, just the sky and sea stretching out forever, with not a soul to be heard over the lulling whirring of the motor and the soothing ocean gales…

“Red, are we friends?”

Except for this bitch.

He had his head stuck out the window and yelled over the wind. 

Red lifted his head to squint at Blue. It was probably already the fourteenth time he’d asked. Since having their friendship amended, Blue had evolved into the most inconceivably annoying person on Earth. I composed myself with high-strung patience and watched as Red pushed his hand into the air in a thumbs-up.

Sunnier, Blue pressed, “Are we… are we best friends?”

Red quirked an eyebrow. Blue leaned further out of the window in anticipation. He had half his body out before Red exhaled and pulled his other hand into a thumbs-up too.

“Double thumbs-up?” Blue cried. “Sweet!” He whisked himself back into the pilothouse, and the yacht resumed along the waters. We wouldn’t have made it even another two kilometres before I felt ourselves slow to a stop and Blue’s keen face popped out again. “Red, are we friends?”

And loop for the next hour, until we docked at Fuschia’s port. As Blue hopped off the yacht and skipped past, I had half a mind to grab him by the throat and strangle his insufferable self. Then I caught a glimpse of the brightest smile in the world and understood why Red put up with it. I decided to go to the Safari Zone in peace.

We, in fact, did not make it to the Safari Zone. Well, we got there, but we were presented with a slight issue.

“What the fuck is the Go Park?” exploded Blue, voicing all of our thoughts.

We stood in front of a sleek building façade with vivid aqua and white. It was a nice building, for sure, but it wasn’t the battered wooden entrance of the Safari Zone paired with the familiar smell of Pokémon shit.

“I heard about a Go Park being built, but I had no idea it was here.” I said this, tilting my head up to squint aggressively at the structure.

“What’s it for?” he asked, thoroughly unimpressed.

“No clue. I…don’t think we’re the demographic,” I added, eyeing the group of ten year olds that were merrily prancing inside.

“Oi!” shouted Blue, directing his words at the kids. The little girl jumped, and the trio blinked up at him in sync. “What’s this Go Park for?”

“It’s like, really cool!” squeaked the boy. “Like, you can play with your Pokémon in real life!”

His face contorted even more unpleasantly. “Whaddaya mean, real life?”

“You know, in Pokémon Go!”

Right, that stupid simulator game. I tried playing it once, but, when you’ve gone and done the real thing, the kiddy catching game is boring, stupid, and inaccurate. If you believe yourself to be a Pokémon Go enthusiast, please refrain from calling yourself a Pokémon fan under any circumstances.

The girl was staring hard at Red’s Pikachu. “Wait, you’re Red!” she exclaimed, in a burst of recognition. “So you guys must be real trainers.” She said it as if real was a derogatory term, and I bristled.

The boy pointed his stubby finger at the Pikachu and blabbed, “Pikachu has such bad stats in Go. My Melmetal has 400 Attack, and is Shiny. If my Melmetal could come to life and fight your Pikachu, I’d win, and I’d become Kanto Champion!” he said.

Both Red and Pikachu had mustered a glare (incidentally, I was not aware Pikachus could wrestle together such an expression, but it was definitely glaring).

The kids kept running their mouths and I was about to say something when Blue intercepted. He’d snapped. “Shut the hell up. You wanna talk about real life? Let’s talk about real life. You reckon you could beat me in a fight?”

“Yeah, totally, if I had my Legendary Team wi—”

“I’m not talking about Pokémon,” said Blue, cold. He took a step closer. “Let’s go one for one, shall we?”

The kids looked right terrified and were quivering in fear. I couldn’t really tell if he was serious on his offer or just set on giving them a threat. Blue could be equally bark and bite, or one and not the other.

I liked kids like the average person but if Blue chose violence, I wouldn’t be stepping in. They’d pissed me off and I had no compassion reserved for them. Red also had a similar disposition.

Pikachu, on the other hand, was squaring its shoulders like it was about to fling itself at the children. 

Unfortunately, I didn’t get to be an audience to this.

“I’ll take you up on that offer, Blue.”

And so we were graced with Lance’s greatest magic trick… his ability to summon himself into any conceivable scene.

He strode up to Blue, who, defiance flickering across his face, was ready to pounce, but then he sized up his opponent: six feet tall and clothes that stretched under a body sinewy strong. Blue, on the contrary, was built like a runt. One punch from Lance and he’d be at risk of breaking something.

“Go enjoy yourselves at the Park, kids,” said Lance, glancing at the children, who had developed a fascination for the scene in front of them, fear abandoned in favour of curiosity. Lance raised his eyebrows. “We won’t really be fighting,” he explained, picking up on the intrigue, and then gave Blue a calculating look. “Unless?”

“No.”Blue was tight-lipped in his answer. “Scram.”

The kids scampered into the Park, and Lance gave Blue a stern, “Do you pick fights everywhere you go?”

“Fuck off,” grumbled Blue. “Why are you always conveniently everywhere? Are you omniscient?”

“Perhaps we are fated to run into each other,” Lance said, so unenthusiastically I had to suppress a giggle. Actually, Lance could be extremely funny if the situation called for it. He followed this up by completely ignoring Blue’s angry twitching and turned to us. “Hello Red, Leaf. Sorry for my rudeness. How are you?”

When Red didn’t say anything (I don’t know why I waited for him to), I said, “Hi. We’re okay, but we’d wanted to go to the Safari Zone. We hadn’t realised it closed.”

“They’re closing all of the good things in Kanto,” said Blue. “First the Game Corner, now the Safari Zone.”

“The Game Corner?” I echoed. “They closed the Game Corner?”

Lance nodded. “They closed all of the machines there recently. It’s probably a good thing.”

Blue huffed. “Whaddaya mean? I got all my cash from that place.”

Privately, I agreed. Like all cheap and tacky places in the 90’s, the games were absolutely rigged. Which was either damningly fantastic or incredibly horrible depending on whether you knew about the gimmicks. When I had played enough times there, I figured out all of the riggings and after that became incredibly wealthy. Of course, the price to pay was first becoming intensely in debt and skipping meals to repay them, but, in the end, it’s the reason why I still have some expendable wealth in my account to this day.

“The Game Corner was a thinly veiled casino that kids had free access to," said Lance.

Yeah, and it was great. I didn't really know what he was worried about. I don’t think Lance had ever stepped foot into the Corner while it was still running. If he was concerned about kids being exploited there, he needn’t have worried. The exact opposite scenario was happening. Kids were shrewd enough to take advantage of the system and were making hella cash, while the middle-aged men who only visited when their wives were busy would get hammered with debt. On top of the Corner, we’d also challenge the men there to our own games and bet on it. Now I can play a mean game of Go Fish. (Mean, literally. It is cheating.)

“There was also the whole thing about it being a front of a hideout for notorious Team Rocket,” Lance added.

“Ah, good old days,” I said cheerily.

It was the same kids that Lance wanted to keep protected that had uncovered the hideout. Gramps has always called me a nosy person. I prefer the term inquisitive. Nosy or not, it was how I found a neat little switch behind a poster and pressed it (not shameful of this in the slightest). I then bounded down the stairs that it had revealed and beat the asses of every grunt there, expecting it to be a secret Gym that I had found.

Suffice to say, I did not receive any Gym Badge after that, although I did get a nice little Medal of Valour for it and had my photo taken for the city’s paper. It was quite nice. 10/10, would recommend. 

“It’s such a shame,” Blue said. “I miss the hell out of that place.”

“Well, a properly licensed casino opened a few roads away from the Corner,” said Lance. “You could always go there.”

I thought about it, but it hadn’t been the gambling I missed. I glanced at Red and Blue. “Nah, it’s not the same.” Losing the Game Corner mattered in a different way. “Anyway,” I said. “Lance, is there somewhere you’d recommend? We’re looking for somewhere to go.”

“Hm,” he said thoughtfully. “How about Vermillion City? The seafront would be nice in such great weather.”

That was another opportunity to hit the yacht again. Somehow Blue had gotten surprisingly adept on it. It beats me how he ends up good at everything he tries. 

We had to dock in a tiny corner, crammed between two ugly dinghys, because the wharf was currently occupied by a colossal cruise ship.

“Is that the S.S. Anne?” I said in wonder. “Is it back in Vermillion? What a coincidence.”

The luxury liner would have a stopover at Vermillion for about a week during its renowned annual cruise. A lot of foreigners were milling around the seafront. Very rich foreigners. I already kind of wanted to turn back, feeling out of place in my own region.

Pikachu leapt onto the wharf, squealing with relief to feel solid ground under its feet. It was not a Pokémon that enjoyed being out on the water. Especially when under Blue’s jurisdiction. Red jumped off after it, offering me a hand to get off the yacht.

“Aw, Leaf, d’ya remember when we got on the S.S. Anne?” Blue asked, finishing docking the boat and joining us. 

“Yeah.” How could I forget? At a time when people let kids do whatever they wanted and we boarded the ship without turning a single head. It was a different era altogether. “We got a HM from there. Cut, was it?”

Red nodded.

“You got stuck, and the ship almost left with you on it,” Blue said.

I had half-wished it did, a free world tour wasn’t going to be turned down by me. “It was so fancy!” I sighed. “I wish we could go back.”

“We totally still can,” said Blue.

“We’re not kids any more, they’re not gonna let us on,” I retorted. 

“Nah, they will,” he persisted.

“We don’t even have tickets,” I said. “We’re definitely not…” I noticed Blue’s utterly placid expression. “Wait, Blue, what are you thinking of?” I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “You’re not planning to sneak on, are you?”

The idea made Red perk up.

His reaction only fuelled Blue’s guts. “No one is doing any sneaking,” he explained coyly. “Let’s just call it some staunch wheedling.”

Pikachu squeaked, ready for this day since it was born.

Ten minutes later, we marched up to the S.S. Anne. Well, Blue and Red did. I kind of lingered behind, hoping not to be associated with the two. I swear, only men have the confidence to do stupid shit like this. It’s the reason why they die younger. 

I’d presumed Red to have some kind of moral conscience. After the whole fiasco with Team Rocket some intense propaganda was spread to rebrand Red as some mystical knight-like saviour. On top of that, Blue was a Gym Leader, oh, and Red being Champion, was quite literally the face of Kanto. Unfortunately, we make the wrong people heroes. This whole scheme was Blue’s conceptualisation, which was nothing new, Gramps used to whoop him on the ass once a week for a reason, but I hadn’t expected Red to yield so easily—almost eagerly. 

So morally bankrupt Red, societal menace Blue, and the failed voice of reason, myself, went up the boarding ramp and were stopped by the worker there. Obviously.

“Tickets, please,” he requested, politely enough for it to be apparent that he knew what we were trying to do. It wasn’t that we looked dodgy, or, maybe we did, but we definitely didn’t look like an S.S. Anne passenger. And believe me, there was an evident disparity. Before us we’d just seen a lady board, and she was wearing at least three pieces of gold on each limb, including her neck. Blue was disapproving about how her G-string was a designer brand, but I think there was bigger fish to fry. Like why he was looking there. Or how he knew about designer G-strings. Or how we were going to get onto this fucking ship when we looked like shoddy povos next to these people.

This worker was this jacked guy who spoke Kantonese like he’d learned it the night before, and I was already ready to Chikorita out. Blue, though, just crossed his arms and let out the most insulted noise conceivable.

“Excusez-moi?” he gasped in deep violation. “Mais—you just asked for our tickets?" He jabbed his chin into the air with his nostrils flared as he brandished Kalosian (out of his ass, likely). 

The worker did not seem even slightly convinced. “Yes, I did. I am only allowed passengers who are part of this cruise on,” he said. “Could I see your tickets, please?”

But Blue was not ready to back down yet. A shudder spasmed through his body, the offense causing him to double over in appal. He cried out in throaty anguish, "You are really saying zat you need our tickets?" Blue flourished dramatically, to what I assumed was our alleged grandiose. 

“Yes.”

Blue inhaled in outrage. “Why, we left it on ze ship, of course.”

I was starting to feel sorry for this man, and hoped a raise was incoming for him for putting up with this ridiculous scene. “The captain specifically reminded,” he reiterated, “all passengers to take tickets with them if they were leaving the ship.” 

It was probably in fear of the wind, but Red’s hat was in his hand, and he raked through his hair with unusually candid class. And Pikachu had suddenly transformed into the world’s tamest pet, lapping at its paw pad as if the very air was not good enough for it. It made eye contact with the worker and sniffed at him, snobbily throwing its head back. Its acting was so phenomenal that in that moment, no one was as deserving of an Oscar as this pretentious Pokémon.

Again, with the same, stuck-up, haughty way of speaking, Blue continued. "So maybe we 'ave forgotten. Ya really gonna—ahem, I mean—do you not know 'oo we are?" He made another flamboyant gesture, one that really hovered on the edge between exorbitant affluence and exorbitant homosexuality. Either way, he was strangely good at it. “We are all très famoose celebrities—from Ville Lumiose.” He fiddled with the watch on his wrist, one that bore a very close resemblance to a Rolex but I knew it was a counterfeit from a sweat shop.

“I see… Monsieur.” It had to be insane, but the worker was beginning to fall for it. “I know, um, but, still, without tickets, we really can’t—”

Blue cut him off with a dramatic gasp and spun around to look me dead in the eye. Then, in a whisper that was clearly meant to be heard, shot off with, “Bonjour, pardon, un café s’il vous plaît, où est la toilette, je ne sais pas… I am going to talk shit about the S.S. Anne online… l’addition, s’il vous plaît, merci beaucoup; voilà, métro!”

The worker immediately stiffened with fear in his eyes.

Me, wanting my best to contribute, firmly rapported him with, “Oh, yeah, oui oui, baguette.”

It was really remarkable to observe his change of behaviour when he considered that we may in fact be some megastar celebrities. He dove into a bow as quickly as he could. “S-sorry to hold you back for so long, please, come through immediately.”

Blue glowered at him with all the air of a wealthy businessman. “C’est pas trop tôt, putain,” he growled pompously, and strode on through.

As Red and I scurried after him, I looked back over my shoulder at the guard to call, “hasta la vista!”

We barely made it onboard before we could no longer contain our composure and began screaming with laughter. Even Red’s shoulders were quaking, an unsmotherable grin on his face.

“You fucking idiot, hasta la vista isn’t fucking Kalosian,” Blue gasped, clutching his stomach.

I was too racked with giggles to be embarrassed. “Screw that, what bullshit did you pull just then?”

“I’ll have you know that was perfectly intellectable Kalosian,” he assured.

Red raised his eyebrows.

“I’m glad that time abroad came into use. Well, whatever gets us onto the S.S. Anne.” I regained my breath and glanced around. We were only standing in the foyer, but… “Wait, we’re actually on the S.S. Anne.” 

Blue nodded, looking excited. “I told you I could make it happen.”

“How was I meant to know you were being serious?” I chuckled. Then the guilt slammed me. “Is it really okay to sneak on like this?”

“Eh, I guess it’s kinda wrong.” What a euphemism! It was in fact morbidly illegal. But if Blue had even hinted towards that, I would’ve lost it and thrown myself overboard. “Look, I kinda feel like… YOLO.” He shrugged. “Like. We’re young. We’re sexy—not you, Leaf, you look like a Weezing. But we should so enjoy ourselves. This is never gonna happen again.” 

Blue was talking about this exclusive experience, of getting onto the S.S. Anne for fun. And I’m glad that’s all I thought of it. But thinking about it now, that this is never gonna happen again? I didn’t know it yet, but it would be the last time the three of us hung out like this. Free to do whatever we wanted and reckless enough to forget Red didn’t have leukaemia. To forget that he was dying.

If I’d known, I would’ve made sure it was the best day of our lives. But also, if I had known, I would certainly have felt like killing myself.

It’s clueless Leaf that grabbed Red’s arm. “The food here is so good,” she’d said. “Let’s go see if the buffet’s on right now. And then I want to take a look at accommodation, I know it’ll be so fancy.”

Maybe sometimes it is good to not know everything! Innocence is the most covetable feeling. They’d renovated the S.S. Anne to be even lovelier than I’d remembered it, and we’d formed the mindset of tourists exploring a new region. We tore down the buffet, collected every bathroom amenity provided in a spare room, and Red got Pikachu to pluck keys off a waiter so we could stealth down to the billiards room to play pool. None of us could play pool, so we made up a freestyle version. We left once we’d lost enough pool balls and snapped a cue.

In a janitor’s closet, we orchestrated Truth or Dare, except since Red couldn’t play Truth, we just carried out increasingly risky dares. Blue was bid to attempt hitting on the ship captain (unsuccessful) and Red had to see if he could do a lap in the pool fully clothed without the life guard noticing (successful).

We were, inevitably, kicked off when some workers discovered us, but only because a cleaner walked into the theatre to hear me bellowing an opera rendition of the latest hit rap song.

By then, it was almost sunset anyway, so we bought yakisoba from a little stall in Cerulean before we headed home. We waved farewell to our yacht for the day, and staggered into the house with zero energy.

Even Blue, renowned extravert, was caved in with fatigue and he waved his hand dismissingly, telling us that we could eat it in our rooms if we wanted to. But instead, when he got to the top of the stairs and trudged to his room, he saw Red and I following behind him.

The three of us ended up eating yakisoba on Blue’s bedroom floor.

“It’s good, right?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s friggin’s buss,” Blue squawked.

Red nodded. His eyes were fixed on me, with that strong, intense gaze that made me almost uncomfortable. He didn’t need to look at me in that way. Expectant, sincere, genuine.

Pikachu inched closer, sniffing the paper box. Red tilted it lower to it, and with a tentative nibble Pikachu swallowed the noodle strand. Its ear twitched, and it made a pleased coo.

My knee bumped against Red. I hadn’t even realised that we’d been sitting close enough for that to happen. “Oh, sorry,” I murmured, shuffling a little to tuck my legs in. I was about to keep eating when I felt a small knock against my thigh. Red’s knee was jabbed against me. His face was turned, listening to Blue. But he didn’t move to shift away. I stayed still too, letting our legs touch. 

I thought about the glass wall. This theoretically bulletproof, impermeable glass wall that we’d accused him of making.

But I saw Red here, with his leg against mine and sitting on the floor and eating yakisoba with each other. He’d never been guilty of such a thing. Without knowing, my own hands were responsible. The glass wall had always been put up by me. I looked at the three of us in this room with little transparent fragments and shards scattered over the ground.

I thought that it would leave me bleeding to break a glass wall. But I didn’t even feel it, only the laughter pouring from this room and the people I loved the most.

Honestly, life like that was more than a little bearable. I could keep living like this. I was happy.

And so, so dumb. Why would I ever think that something like that would last?

It wouldn’t even have been two months later where everything changed.

I had declared to Red that I’d drag him to the new cake shop that opened in Pewter, and make him try all of the 26 different macaron flavours in order to compose an extensive Macaron Tier List. Honestly, my only concern was the impending outrageous number on the receipt. But I don’t think I can put blame on myself for that.

After all, I hadn’t known that Red wouldn’t be able to make it down the stairs that morning. I hadn’t known that he would slump against the banister and start coughing. I hadn’t known that the coughing wouldn’t stop and I hadn’t known that he’d cough up red gunk all over his shirt and I would be back in another ambulance, so soon.

Twelve months twelve months twelve months and that was my only solace as he was rushed into the ER.

I called Gramps on the way and he was there instantly. Everything I was trying to hold together ruptured the moment I saw him. While Gramps talked to the doctors, I curled up on one of the stiff waiting room chairs and cried. That’s how helpful I was. 

It was internal bleeding. One of AML’s big symptoms is that it can cause you to bruise and bleed really easily, because there’s too many leukaemic blood cells and not enough useful ones. In Red’s case, he’d experienced sudden pulmonary haemorrhage, which is internal bleeding in the lungs. The doctors didn’t know exactly what caused it, but they said it could have been triggered by his compromised immunity system. I still don’t get why that would lead to internal bleeding.

But the worst news of all came afterwards, when they told us he wouldn’t be able to leave the hospital anymore.

The nurse that I was familiar with, yes, that evil one, approached me to tell me about Red’s status. My hair was sticking to my face and I had my knees pulled to my chest, trembling. Gramps was right there, a couple of hundred metres away. Why wouldn’t you tell him the news? Wasn’t he the responsible person in this scenario?

The nurse recounted blandly, saying things like how it was too risky and that this was the best for him. I wasn’t really paying attention, too disgusted by the idea that I was being considered an adult right now. I didn’t feel like an adult and I didn’t look like one either, with my eyes seared red and cheeks blotchy.

I didn’t even want to be an adult, because I really wished I could be the most childish person in the world, throw a fat tantrum and tell the world that it was horrible.

Blue captured my feelings better than I could have.

“Fuck!” The flower vase on the desk shattered to pieces on the floor.

I couldn’t tell you how Blue found out so quickly and came over. We’d told him about Red’s prognosis in the waiting area, and he’d promptly marched up to the receptionist in an attempt to bargain with her. Bargain, though, was a kind word.

“What do you fucking mean you’re gonna lock him up here?” he spat.

The receptionist glanced at the broken vase without wincing, and patiently said, “We’re not locking him up. Red needs 24-hour care.” Her gaze gave nothing away.

“He can get 24-hour care at home, with us,” he argued. His knuckles had gone pale from gripping the reception table.

“He needs more than domestic care,” she said. “He’s very sick.”

For a brief moment, Blue faltered, and Gramps took the opportunity to grab him by the scruff of his jacket, and with a smooth, “Excuse me, sorry,” to the receptionist, pulled him aside. I anticipated a stern talking-to for Blue, but when Gramps had moved him to the edge of the waiting room, he drew back, letting Blue’s anger simmer on.

Gramps’ hand brushed against my shoulder, sensing my uncertainty. “Stay back a little.” A warning, or a plea? It was so weary and a little sad.

Blue screamed again and slammed his fist against the wall. “I fucking hate this life!” He hit the wall again. “This is the worst! Nothing ever works out!” What a scene to make in the hospital. But no one was looking except us.

He went on like this for a while, swearing and screaming as he kept attacking the wall.

The worst part of it all was Gramps’ grip on my hand, not letting me go up to him. So instead we watched him tire himself out, his voice turning coarse and his punches getting weaker and weaker until he looked so pathetic that I couldn’t help it anymore.

I snapped my arm free of Gramps and went over to Blue.

He was breathing hard and his shoulders were quivering. I reached out to clasp his hands. The skin around his knuckles had become scraped and raw. I touched them and sighed. “Come on, Blue, what’s up?”

He jolted. “I hate everything, everything in the whole world, everything sucks! And I hate Red, he’s so fucking….”

“Why would you hate Red?” I asked patiently. All the sadness that I had thought would swallow me vanished. No, rather, it was put away, because someone needed me right now. It was reflex.

When my hand rested on his shoulder, Blue shuddered. “He’s so fucking dumb, and can’t even do shit, can’t do anything.”

“You don’t mean that. What’s actually up?”

I thought he wouldn’t tell me, because Blue was the type of person who liked to man up and take worries head on, stack all his weaknesses one on top of each other, like a risky game of Jenga. But he blew quietly, and admitted, “I wanted to go to Alola with him. But I’ll never be able to go anywhere with him again.”

This one time, Blue came home from a soccer game downright livid. He started screeching at Mum as soon as he came home and I got socked in the stomach (I, never turning down a challenge, socked him back). He stayed hot-tempered like that for days, and it wasn’t until we took him to the doctor’s a few days later we discovered he had fractured his leg in the match. All that anger that he had channeled out was just a product of his pain.

Blue Oak had never done anything except win his whole life, so he never learned how to express anything other than cocky triumph. He didn’t know how to be weak.

This was just the same. “Are you really angry?”

“Yes,” he snarled.

As if I was totally mature, I coaxed, “It doesn’t make sense for you to be angry, though, does it?” It wasn’t that I was trying to act a certain way. It was just the big sister inside me. 

Under my touch, I felt the tension inside him dissipate. “Then why does my chest hurt so much?”

“What could you possibly be mad at?” I asked, stroking his head. Blue had to be the most pitiable person in the world right now.

“The world,” he declared. “For wanting to take my best friend away from me.”

I sighed, glancing at the floor. “I know.” If you couldn’t tell already, I was not a good comforter. I agreed with him wholeheartedly. He had every right to be angry. Red was going to die and they thought that caging him here in this stupid hospital would make it better. That there was a better place to stay than home, next to us.

“Fuck..!” He had raised his voice again, but when I looked at his face carefully, it was contorted in a specific way, and his eyes were watery.

“Are you crying?” I asked.

“No, I’m not fucking crying.” But he had to choke it out.

“There’s nothing wrong with crying,” I said. “I know you say it’s pathetic, but I think… it’s okay to be pathetic sometimes. Sometimes you need to be pathetic, before you can be strong.” I reached over to ruffle his spiky hair. 

He sniffed, staring at the ground. “That’s a fucking dumb thing to say.”

I giggled, embarrassed. “Yeah, sorry.” Again with the terrible reassuring skills. I had to be especially inept at it. Where were the people that were good at reassuring?

I glanced over and saw Gramps standing behind us. Not moving, not doing anything. No it’s okay, dear. If there wasn’t anyone to help us, there wasn’t much to it.

I scrunched my hand in Blue’s hair, making him wince. “You wanna go see Red?” We’d have to help ourselves. 

We couldn’t spend forever waiting for someone to save us. Blue swallowed, mustering his grit. “Yeah, I… I do.”

Before we saw Red, we saw the hospice worker who would be taking care of him. She was a little blonde woman that introduced herself as Yellow and she had the sweetest smile and when she talked it was like little chirping.

“You did well bringing him here, sweetheart.” I hadn’t expected her to use old-woman-terminology and whimpered. Her arm rested on my back, and she said, “I know it’s hard,” and I really did start crying.

“I don’t know what to do,” I wailed.

She leaned in, and I caught the faintest whiff of lavender. “Just do what you’ve always done.”

She introduced us to the room Red would move into.

It was a nice room and brilliantly lit, the sun casting gold onto every surface, peaceful with a faint humming coming from somewhere. The wall had a flat TV and a little couch and an ornate set of drawers sat right under it, accessorised by a glass vase. There were lovely glass doors that led out to a small balcony. But it was the bed—single-sized, neatly made, stark frame—that set me off.

It was still a sad room. Maybe because the bed in the room was still a hospital bed, and no matter how much you wanted to pretend, this place was still a hospital.

“This place is kind of dead,” said Blue, and he was right. The room felt too empty and too bleak. I didn’t know how I’d stand coming here. I didn’t know how Red would stand living here.

“It is a bit dull right now,” Yellow agreed. Everything about her was modest and soothing, including the way she spoke. “But that’s nothing we can’t fix,” she said. “It would be good to bring Red’s things here, and then it’ll feel just like home.”

“It’s not home,” Blue said sharply.

His lip had curled, but Yellow simply tilted her head. “Yes, you’re right,” she said. “But this is where Red is going to stay, so we should try our best to make it seem like it.” She was still smiling. It seemed genuine, and maybe that was what I’d needed back then.

Blue softened, taking heed of her words.

“Have you met Red?” I asked her.

“Not yet,” she said. “I thought that maybe we could all go over together once the doctors give us the A-OK for visiting.” She clasped her hands. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about our Champion. How is Red?”

I expected Blue to answer that question but he’d already disappeared to start poking around the room. Yellow was staring at me, expectantly. I went to answer her, then floundered, not knowing what to say.

How would I describe Red? The world knew him as a Champion and a child prodigy with Pokémon. As someone who was impossibly strong and persevered through everything. But underneath all that, there was something else. A boy from Pallet Town who struggled to speak and who no one expected much of. The hardest worker I knew, with whom I made my most intimate friendship. 

I replied like I wanted to. “Red is my favourite person in the world,” I said, my chest twisting. “Please take good care of him.”

Yellow smiled. “Of course. I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

“Shit, Leaf!” called Blue. “There’s a mini-fridge in here!” He stood up from behind the drawers, which obscured the appliance from where I was.  That was probably where the humming had been coming from. He waved a pack of those probiotic yoghurt drinks. “Look at what they have.” His eyes were shining.

I laughed at him, then looked past him at Gramps. He’d been quiet for a long time. He didn’t speak to Yellow at all and after coming into the hospice room, went out to the balcony. 

Yellow caught where my attention was. “You won’t believe this, Blue,” she said loudly, “But sometimes, it’ll even be stocked with cake.” She patted my back in encouragement.

I flashed her a grateful smile. With Blue distracted, I took the opportunity to steal out to the balcony.

It would’ve been later in the afternoon, when Kanto typically reaches its daily sun limit and sinks into a cool breeze, clouding over. I joined Gramps' side, peering over the glass railing. I thought the view was familiar. It was hard to recognise from inside, but the balcony was situated right above the hospital’s garden. It had a baroque kind of vibe that made it look like it would be fitting for a romantic film.

I wondered what it would be like to walk there but I realised that I wouldn’t want that.

Even though I was right next to him, Gramps didn’t say a word. I stared at him, growing gradually uncomfortable.

I hadn’t remembered his hair being quite so white or sparse, or his face having nearly so many wrinkles.

It wasn’t Gramps at all. Just an old man whose misery and loneliness had finally caught up to him.

I wanted to ask him, are you okay, but I thought it was silly. Of course Gramps was okay. Instead, I pressed my cheek against the polyester of his lab coat, inhaling something I’d never been able to place as anything except Gramps’ Smell.

I felt him stiffen, then relax. “I’m getting on in years, aren’t I?” he chuckled, rueful. I expected him to pull me into a hug. He didn’t.

I poked the weathered white fabric. “Why do horrible things happen to people?”  

When I was younger, I thought Gramps was the smartest person in the world, with an answer for everything. In that moment, I felt like I was asking him one of those big questions. I wanted him to have the answer.

Gramps said, “I don’t know.”

I froze against him. Slowly, I peeled myself off and scampered back inside, where Blue was still hooting about the mini-fridge.

A little while later, Yellow was told that Red could have visitors and ushered us over to the wards. Blue and I made a kind of sprint for it, and she willingly followed in an easy jog. Gramps stayed trailing behind. 

Red had that blank slate face upon him again. An IV drip was strung to him and he had these white tubes connecting into his nostrils. He was awake. He’d changed into the hospital gown. No, that wasn’t right, someone probably changed his clothes for him.

“Man, getting into the ER is kinda lame.” Blue had already killed every out-of-character emotion he’d shown in the last hour and switched back to his typical jeering persona. Then, he surprised me with, “But it sucks that you’re here, you know. You okay?”

Head propped against a sparsely filled pillow, Red nodded. 

His bangs had fallen over his eyes and I reached out to brush his hair aside. “You’re not hurting anywhere, are you?” He shook his head at my concern. “I was so scared when you started coughing up blood.”

“There never was any need to worry, Red’s never let anything come over him,” said Gramps. He seemed to have returned to his usual self. He examined Red, then smiled approvingly. “That’s a strong man. I heard they did a CT scan. How did that go?”

Red grimaced, tossing his head back.

“Being in a massive white coffin would actually just end me,” I clipped, hoping to appear sympathetic.

“Are you dumb? A CT scan is when they put you into a donut,” Blue griped. “You’re thinking of an MRI.” In my defense, I think knowing the difference doesn’t fall into general knowledge.

“So how was the donut?” I retried, but Red wasn’t listening. He’d noticed Yellow, and was observing her carefully.

Yellow took the opportunity to introduce herself with a little bob of her head. “Hello, Red, my name is Yellow. I’m sure you’ve heard the news from a doctor, but based on your current health, we’d like to monitor you consistently, so you’ll be staying here at the hospital from now on—but in a private room in a different part of the building, not in an inpatient ward.” She wasn’t bashful at all when speaking, confident and affable in a way I admired intensely. “I’ll be taking care of you during your time here. I’ll be here to support you in every way I can.”

Like how he treated most initial interactions, Red immediately looked hostile, eyes narrowing.

It was so impolite and immature that I got embarrassed. “Sorry, he’s a little hard to get along with at first.”

“It doesn’t seem like that at all,” said Yellow brightly, judgementless. “My job is to make sure you’re comfortable, Red. Know that you can always ask me for help.”

His hand went rigid, and if you looked closely, his expression faltered, just a little. It was hard to make an enemy out of a woman who was five foot tall and had a chronic smile.

“So, lady,” scowled Blue.

Automatically, Yellow replied, “Yes, Mr Blue?”

Red wasn’t the only person who lacked immunity to her. Blue jolted and with a guilty face, said, “Er… I mean, Yellow. He’s stuck here for the rest of his life?” 

It sounded like a long time, but it was worse that it wasn’t.

It made Yellow’s mouth curve into a thoughtful frown. “I understand why it might feel like that,” she said gently. “It’s an unfamiliar place. It’s not home. Hospitals aren’t really the ideal place for someone to stay, are they?” She smoothed her blonde hair down. “But it’s important that we keep him here, because we really do want Red to be okay. Home will always be nicer, I won’t argue with you on that. But this way, he might not need to fight as hard.”

The only fight he should be in was a Pokémon fight. But I guess there were some fights that even our Champion wouldn’t be able to win.

Bitterly, I asked, “And, um, we can come visit, right?”

Yellow gasped. “Oh, right, I forgot to mention… I can sign you as a recurring visitor, which is a little like a premium pass. Saves on paperwork, and it does give you extended hours. You can pop in and out as often as you like. I’m sure Red would love the company.”

“Ah, speaking of company,” Gramps cut in, “I have a bit of a task for you, Red.”

Red, to his credit, became immediately suspicious.

“Does it have to do with the fat box you’re carrying?” Blue eyed the nondescript container that Gramps had brought in with him. I’d only just noticed it.

“Yes, it does.” He had set it down onto the ground and was about to reach down when he groaned, clutching his lower back.

“I’ll get it for you, Gramps,” I offered, kneeling in front of it. I pulled the Velcro apart with a crackle. The contents left me stunned.

Blue was thoroughly unimpressed. “You brought the Egg?”

He tried to hoist the incubator that it came inside and almost buckled under its weight.

“Hasn’t it hatched yet?”

“I thought some change of scenery would do it some good,” Gramps said lightly. I gave the environment a dubious look-over. He sounded senile, and I felt a rush of gratefulness for being in a hospital, so we could diagnose Gramps afterwards. “I thought Red could maybe look after it.”

The only reason Blue didn’t get a chance to give him any shit for that was because Yellow interjected.

“Oh, how lovely!” she trilled. “That sounds lovely, right?” She glanced over at Red and I, with such a beam in her face that I buried my disagreement instantly and even Red had to concede with a huff.

“Is this even allowed?” I asked, taking note of the sterile nature of the ward. “Like, hatching Pokémon?”

Yellow was helping Blue lift the incubator onto the set of drawers. She peered inside at the Egg. She turned back, uncontainable glee written over her face. “Uh, I think hatching it will be alright. But after it hatches, we’ll probably have to move the baby, since our hospital has a no-Pokémon policy,” she conceded.

“A no-Pokémon policy!” I repeated, shocked. The idea of it offended me, even though I didn’t have any Pokémon anymore.

Sheepish, Yellow said, “It’s for sanitary reasons, since we have certain guidelines we need to meet to maintain hygiene here.”

My conceited self was about to agree with her. Then I heard a strangled choke.

It was the loudest Red had been in a while. 

His jaw had fallen slack, and his face, which hardly ever yielded to twitch, had contorted with such excruciating distraughtness that I recoiled in fear. I’d never seen him look so pained.

“A no-Pokémon policy, huh?” murmured Blue darkly, and it hit me.

The hospital wouldn’t let any Pokémon in. And they wouldn’t let Red out.

Right now, Red’s Poké Balls were dispersed over our first floor, scattering when he’d collapsed on the stairs. He hadn’t seen his Pokémon that morning, because the plan was to see them after we made our Macaron Tier List, once we’d retired to the foreshore, so I could watch the sun set as he trained against the backdrop of the ocean. 

Red might not ever see his Pokémon again. 

“Is Red permitted to leave the hospital?” Gramps asked.

Yellow had crumpled a little, as if it was her fault. “Well, we discourage patients from extended hospital leaves. But Red’s mostly able. He can walk around just fine and perform a majority of his daily tasks. So with the company of a supervisor—that can be me—we might be able to arrange some infrequent travelling to nearby places.” She smiled apologetically. 

That was it, then. That was the end of Red’s freedom. No more day outs together: no more starting fights with kids, no more riding on over-the-top yachts, no more sneaking onto ships. No more sitting on the bedroom floor and eating street food. Things I hadn’t even imagined I would lose disappeared in front of me.

“That seems like a reasonable compromise,” said Gramps, intending to lift our spirits. But it wasn’t a compromise. Just a punishment. 

Red trembled, and sank further down into the bed. He’d raised his Pokémon since he was ten. They’d grown up alongside him. And he lived to train.

Now, he was limited to infrequent travelling, which sounded like a threat. His Pokémon, which symbolised his status as a living legend, were being confiscated from him, and I guessed, by extension, his ambitions.

His look was too unbearable. “Can’t you let Pikachu stay?” I pleaded. “He’s so little, and he’s mostly tame.”

Yellow laid a hand on her chest. “I’ll see what I can do,” she promised. “What’s more important than our no-Pokémon policy is our patient policy. Our aim is to deliver comfort first.”

There was nothing comforting about anything in that stupid hospital.

We stayed for a while longer, helping Red switch to the hospice room. He hardly gave it a second glance.

His clothes were ruined from the morning, but Yellow gave him a spare set of pajamas. She said that most hospice workers had extra clothes for patients, but I think she was just exemplary. I put the dirty clothes into a plastic bag so I could wash it once I got home. But I left his battered cap on the chest of drawers there. 

We’d planned to stay until visiting hours expired at 9.00pm, but once he’d changed, Red crawled into bed and buried himself under the blankets.

Yellow advised that we go home. “It’s hard to be here. He’s going to need time.”

We were going to leave when we heard from behind us, “Where do you think you’re going?” We froze. Gramps sounded angry and we didn’t have the energy to deal with that. But when I looked back, his eyes were sad and his face dismal. “It’s been a taxing day for you kids. The least I can do is drop you home.” 

Gramps drove us home, but he took the long way and drove under the speed limit. It was already dark by the time we reached our place.

When we got home, we saw a small yellow face squashed against the window.

Pikachu could have been waiting there all day.

Seeing us, it butted its head against the window, then leapt from the sill and disappeared. I barely unlocked the door when it dashed out, crashing into my legs. Scrabbling at my shoes, it let out a plaintive mew.

“Hi buddy,” I said, sounding so tired I surprised myself. I picked it up, seeing its little nose twitch. “Red’s okay,” I told it, then paused, imagining the hospital and everything that had happened that day. “No, I lied. Red’s not okay.”

All of a sudden, I wanted to burst out crying, the ugly kind of crying, where the tears rose like bile in your throat and you wanted to scream and kick. But that wouldn’t be very mature of me, so I swallowed it and blinked the water back.

It was so cold inside the house, and the quiet that we chose settled over us like cement. We hovered, none of us moving or wanting to sit down.

Blue broke the silence, in the tiniest voice I had ever heard. “Gramps, my whole life is ruined now.”

Gramps didn’t say anything, kept his gaze to the ground. 

“Gramps?” Blue echoed, high-pitched, wavery, and so, so child-like.

All I wanted to do was wrap him in a giant hug and tell him it’s okay, it’s okay, but it wasn’t okay and I wanted my own hug. But Gramps didn’t comfort either of us the way I wanted him to.

Slowly, he made out, in a gravelly, worn voice, “Sometimes… sometimes good things will come from bad things.”

I burned like I was on fire. I thought that it was the most insensitive thing to say in the world. I was trembling, suddenly angry at him for always spitting bullshit.

I screamed at him. “How could you even say that?!” Tears, ones I thought I’d properly swallowed, tumbled down my face. My best friend was being prepared to be lowered into a casket, and the only comfort Gramps had for us was to offer recycled, kitsch words.

Pikachu jumped out of my arms in shock and even Gramps, taken aback, staggered.

But I didn’t stop. “You’re always like this! Whenever something goes wrong, you don’t want to help, you just make something up and make it seem all fancy, spouting some random wisdom that no one asked for! The truth is our whole lives are ruined now, and no one wants you coming up with piss to tell us otherwise.” I gasped for air, then spat, “Nothing will ever get better.”

My yelling made Blue pull himself together. Stiffly, he glanced at Gramps. “You should get home.”

With his head bowed, Gramps left without protest. The door closed behind him and my fists slowly came uncurled. The anger inside had scattered what poise I had left and I lifted my head up to the ceiling and started bawling. Loud and ugly, just how I wanted to.

Blue was frozen and stared at me, terrified and uncertain. I didn’t want to be seen as an absolute train wreck like this, in front of my own little brother, but I couldn’t help it. I was waiting to drown myself in my own tears; I was so certain that I would never be able to stop crying.

“Our lives really are ruined huh? Utterly fucked?” he said with a baleful smirk.

I kept crying. He watched.

“You know Red’s fluent in sign?”

I was so astonished that I went quiet and stared at him.

He looked grateful to have distracted me. “I know, right? I walked in on him practising in front of the mirror once. Dropped his hands instantly and wouldn’t say a word when I pressed him about it.” He thought for a second. “Uh, duh.”

I sniffed, wiping all the snot that had dribbled down my face with the back of my hand. I rubbed it over my skirt (not my proudest moment). “We tried to give him lessons, didn’t we? But he refused to go to them,” I recalled. My voice had turned so croaky it hurt to talk. “Did he start again?”

Blue scoffed. “For all I know, he could be learning off of YouTube.” He was careful as he drew a little closer. “Are you hungry? You want some mint-chocolate ice-cream?”

“We finished it, though.” I remembered throwing the tub out that same night we opened it.

“You finished it,” he corrected. “But you know what’s crazy? I went and got some more.” He whacked my shoulder amiably with the back of his hand. “So go sit down. I’ll go get it.”

I lurched over to the couch, all but collapsing into the faux leather. I hadn’t realised how tired I was until I caught myself internally begging for the couch to swallow me whole. I was ready to fall asleep right there, but I felt something brush against my ankle and my eyes flung open.

I peered over the edge of the couch to see Pikachu crawling out between my feet.

I was wondering where it had run off to. My crying must have scared it. 

“Hey, buddy,” I murmured.

It crawled up my leg to curl up on my lap. It was heavier than I remembered it to be.

“Red, he’s sick,” I told it, petting it down its back.

At its trainer’s name, Pikachu jolted up and fixed its round brown eyes on me. Then began calling out again and again.

“Pika-pika.” I parroted it bitterly. “He’s really sick and he won’t get better. He’s going to die soon.”

I broke out into sobbing again and pressed my face into its honey fur. Pikachu was still squeaking. I wasn’t sure if it knew what dying meant.

“I don’t want him to die,” I said, muffled by its pelt. “I guess everyone dies, but… it’s so fucked up, so, so, so… ugh, I hate everything!” I slumped. “Shit… I sound so dumb. I can’t ever act my age. ‘Cause what does it even mean to be twenty? I feel like I’m always behind everyone else. I’m kind of unaccomplished, and lame, and I haven’t glowed up yet like I thought I would… and the only thing I’ve learned from being twenty is that it means awful things start happening. Like Red dying…. I keep forgetting that he will, and I—ah, fuck…”

I rubbed at my eyes, feeling myself tear up again.

Pikachu had nuzzled itself into my legs to stretch with its fuzzy Electric butt pointed towards me, so it had definitely stopped listening. But I kept going, giving its tail an absent-minded poke. “Growing up might be the worst thing to ever happen to me,” I confessed sternly. “It’s all I ever wanted until it actually happened.”

“Ditto,” cawed Blue, walking over and plopping down beside me.

He passed me a bowl with the ice-cream piled within it. This instantly got Pikachu’s attention, who was up sniffing the dessert, intrigued. Blue had his own bowl. “I put it in a bowl, so you don’t finish the whole friggin’ tub like last time.” He smiled at my disgruntled expression, and I thought he’d grown up pretty handsome for a total jerk. And also grown quite well, into someone I could be proud of.

“But seriously. Growing up is so fuck-ass.”

It was so ironic that I spluttered into giggles. “Put that on a mug.”

He snickered. “Who would we give it to?”

“Who’d be the funniest?”

He thought about it. “Gramps.”

“Hehe… that kid on Route 3 that really likes shorts,” I suggested.

He nodded, then slapped his knee, crying, “Red!”

I smiled. It fell. “He’s not gonna really get a chance to grow up.”

Blue tensed, a tch escaping his lips. “Good for him,” he hissed, trying to recover the mood, “he’s getting out free while he can.”

“It’s not good for him,” I said quietly. “He’s going to die.”

He let out a long sigh. “Man.”

I scratched Pikachu’s head, making it squeal in ecstasy. “Today was meant to be a really good day,” I mumbled. “We were meant to go to the new cake shop that opened in Pewter. And try all the 26 different macaron flavours.”

He laughed sharply, astounded. “Wow, are you guys like, obese? Why would you even want to try that many macarons?”

“So we could make a Macaron Tier List,” I said.

If my lip hadn’t started wobbling, he would’ve made more fun of me. “Oh, that makes… sense,” he scrambled, probably cursing the volatility of the situation. “I’d feel like shit if my day got ruined like that.”

“Now we’re never gonna be able to do that again,” I muttered.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “That sucks.” I saw him cringe profusely, dragging his hands down his face. Then, sucking a huge breath in, he managed to look at me gingerly and ask, “You want a hug?”

Tears had been swimming just on the brim of my eyelids but I rasped, “Really?” and let them roll down my cheeks.

He didn’t have much of an option to back out. “Sure.”

He brought his arms forward, then adjusted them awkwardly, unsure how to approach it. I ignored him and launched myself at his chest. I heard him groan as he felt my snot ruining whatever nice shirt he’d been wearing.

I was wailing like a baby now. “Uuu… everything is the worst… I hate it all. I was so scared when Red started coughing up blood, I thought, I thought he was gonna die in front of me, and I had to call the ambulance…Blue, I thought it’d be cool to be in an ambulance, I always wanted to hitch a ride from them…but it’s not cool, it’s shitty, and I’ve been in enough ambulances for the rest of my life. I hope I never have to be in one again. And then I had to wait, for like, like f-friggin’ hours, and I kept thinking, oh, any time now, a doctor’s gonna come tell us he’s dead, and Gramps was acting all weird, too. A-and when you came, and started yelling at the nurse…”

I was just babbling nonsense. I hadn’t expected him to be listening. “Yeah, sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he said. He’d leaned back onto the couch so he could accommodate the weight of my head properly. “That was immature of me.”

I pushed my fist into his ribs. It was too disoriented to hurt him but it did make Blue jolt. “N-no, it wasn’t… I was hoping you would attack that dumb bitch…”

His breathing was being controlled in a way that it was apparent he was trying not to laugh. “Yeah?” The humour shone through in his voice, as serious as he tried to seem. “But that wouldn’t have helped. It’s true. Red’s safest in the hospital.” Thoughtfully, he added, “It kinda hit me when the receptionist was like, he’s very sick.” I had thought I’d seen him hesitate. “‘Cause that’s what Red is. He’s sick as fuck. His body’s falling apart, Leaf.” A great big exhale. “Putting him into hospice care doesn’t change anything. He’s just waiting to die.”

I breathed, “That’s so horrible to think about.”

I realised, suddenly, that we were all waiting to die. Technically. But some people made the most out of it, while others just made a mess out of it. Like me. Stuck in the house all day, achieving nothing at all. But Red was the one who was dying first.

“I wish I was the one who got cancer.”

He went rigid against me. “That’s a really messed up thing to say.” 

I didn’t understand at first what he was talking about. “But Red’s so important. He’s Kanto Champion, and so many people care about him. Him dying matters so much.”

“And what about you?” He was terse. “Don’t you matter?”

I furrowed my brows. “Well, you know what I mean. Red’s so famous and accomplished, he deserves to keep living. I’m just some random bitch.”

“You think I’d let some random bitch into my arms?” Blue hissed. His hands dug into my shirt. “Why do you think your worth depends on how much you accomplish? That kind of mindset would make me want to die every day.”

I wondered whether my slow descent into giving up began with such thoughts. “Then how do you judge your worth?”

He replied swiftly and dramatically. “By how sexy I am.”

When he felt my giggle vibrate against him, he shoved me back to my sitting position, eager to get me back into a distance considered masculine. He touched his now-snotty shirt, looking like he might groan. Then he glanced back at me, and his expression softened.

“Actually, Leaf, there’s no way to figure out how much you’re worth. Because you don’t get to decide that. The people around you do. And I’m being for real—you’re so important to me.”

He seemed so hopeful, hopeful that he’d gotten through to me. His brows furrowed, deciding to cut the sappy crap.

“You know what else is important to me? This fucking shirt. I paid good money for this shit, alright?” He brought his hand to the wet stain on his chest in mourning. He shuddered. “This is so fucking disgusting.” He was probably talking about the shirt, but probably also about letting himself become exposed so carelessly.

His shirt made me remember the other shirt that was also in need of a wash. “Oh, I have to put Red’s clothes through the laundry.” His white shirt had his coughed up blood splattered over the front. “Maybe I should hand wash his shirt?” I mused.

“Just throw it away,” Blue said.

“H-huh? You don’t want me to try and get it out?” I was appalled.

“You won’t ever get that blood out,” he whispered. “Just throw it away.”

His apathy upset me. Something about not even attempting to save Red’s shirt was so uncomfortable.

He’d noticed my reluctance. “Giving up on the shirt doesn’t mean you’re giving up on Red.” His hand tugged the front of his own shirt. “It’s just a fucking shirt. It doesn’t represent your feelings.”

Pikachu’s ears were eagerly pricked at the quick firings of Red’s name, face scrunched as it tried to decrypt the conversation. Its nose twitched. I knew its sense of smell was quite good, and I looked over to the door, where the bag with Red’s shirt was. I’d dropped it on the way in.

The scent of Red should have made the Pokémon go haywire, but it didn’t even turn its head towards the bag. With a shock, it occurred to me that it couldn’t detect Red through all that blood.

The shirt didn’t really belong to Red anymore. 

“Fine, I’ll throw it away,” I said. “What about your shirt?”

Blue nodded. “Don’t worry, I have a hack to fix it.” He picked up Pikachu. “Come on, buddy, I know how much you love cuddling,” he told it blandly, and pressed it to the front of his shirt where I’d snotted all over. He discompassionately rubbed Pikachu over the wet area.

Pikachu was none the wiser and naively enjoyed the feeling of being swished around. Blue peeled Pikachu off, brightening at his dried shirt, and flicked the Pokémon away without mercy.

I was stunned. “What are you doing?! Are you evil?” I clasped Pikachu to my chest. “Don’t take advantage of him!”

“He’s an old bastard, he probably deserves it.” Blue was defending himself. “Look, while you were bawling, that fucker devoured down your ice-cream.”

I registered the absence of mint-choc-chip ice cream in my bowl, and a suspiciously mint coloured substance smeared over Pikachu’s face.

I gasped. “He is a bastard.”

It cooed adorably, trying to shake off the accusations.

Maybe I was the evil one. Because as it clung to my arms, in a cheerful mood, I couldn’t help but think about how it would react when Red would vanish properly.

“Blue, I don’t think there’s going to be much of a point in living after this.”

It was the fact that I kept bringing up stupid things like this that probably made his eyes narrow.

He rubbed his head, leaving his hair sticking up even more waywardly. “Trick question,” he announced, “There never was a point in living. You freestyle that shit up.” He slid his bowl of ice-cream over to my side. “But I’m sorry for saying the mug belonged to Red. I think it's most fitting for Lance anyway.”

I burst into laughter. But I think that him giving me his ice-cream was funnier than the joke he’d made. He really had grown into a half-decent jerk.

-x-

The next day, I thought I would have to go to the hospital myself, but when I got there, I saw Blue waiting for me out the front. He seemed almost proud to be there. A plastic bag was slung over his shoulder.

He handed it to me. “There’s actually 24 flavours,” he informed me, as I checked the bag. “Rizzy Road got removed ‘cause it wasn’t popular and Radioactive had an issue to stop production after it got a customer hospitalised.” Inside the bag was the luxurious packaging of a cake box with a logo from the Pewter City store. I met his gleaming eyes. “So come on. Let’s go make our Macaron Tier List.”

When he wasn’t a total dickhead, Blue could be oddly endearing.

Except, there was a slight issue. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” I asked him.

“What?” He’d already begun strutting through the sliding doors. 

“Today’s a weekday. You have work.” When he kept walking, I caught up to him, grabbing his collar. I yanked him backwards. “You have work,” I repeated.

He scoffed with a sort of swagger, which was enough to tell me that he had done something incredibly stupid. When he opened his loud mouth to announce, “I’m not going to work anymore,” he only confirmed my suspicions. He looked as if he expected me to be impressed.

“What do you mean, you’re not going to work?” I was shocked and in awe at Blue’s audacity. 

Every now and then, he’ll prove himself so incredibly radical that it will stun me. I sometimes wonder how one gets such an ego to render themselves immune to embarrassment.

“I’m not wasting time at work while Red’s in the hospital.” His valiance made me soften a little.

Sentimentally, it was appreciable. “Unfortunately, the government is not going to be able to appreciate this. Hello, you’re a Gym Leader?! You can’t just go skipping at your whims!”

“Why not? Who’s going to stop me? Besides, it’s all sorted, don’t worry. I’m on leave.” When I raised my eyebrows, he elaborated, “A random and illegal leave, but it’s done.”

“What did you tell them?” I asked, distrustful.

“I just walked in and told staff that I had a girlfriend and wouldn’t be coming to work anymore.” He beamed, pleased with what he’d come up with.

“No one’s going to believe that,” I said.

“What, why?”

“Because everyone thinks you’re gay.”

“Am not,” he said (not convincingly). “Literally name one person who thinks that.”

I held up my phone. “The entire 4.5k members of the r/BlueOak subreddit.”

“Wh-what? Why do you even read that shit, Leaf?” he scowled, disgusted, but I will hold my head high. Reddit is a lovely way to waste time, but if you’re in need of an especially good laugh, take a peek at Blue’s subreddit, it makes for many an entertaining evening. I’ll show Blue some of the funnier ones, and the more pissed off he gets, the more I claim victory. Although the forum is for Blue fans, more or less of it was post after post of inadvertently insulting him. “You’re an unemployed fuck, Leaf,” he spat, crossing his arms.

I also crossed my arms, perhaps in challenge. “And you will be, too, if you don’t get your ass back to Viridian Gym right now.”

“I don’t care if I get fired. I’m not going to leave Red’s side.” It was an unexpectedly adorable thing to hear from Blue, and for a moment, I was endeared. (A woeful lapse into weakness.) “Besides,” he said, “I’ve always got the lab.”

“Somewhere, Gramps is doing cartwheels at the prospect,” I narrated.

“Tell him to stop it and sit down,” waved Blue assuringly. “I won’t lose my job. I’m not gonna get caught.”

Blue did get caught, in fact, literally a couple of days later. Lance, bless him for his theatrics, walked up to Blue (it was also on a weekday, during office hours) and asked, almost sombrely, “How’s your girlfriend, Blue?”

The question was left field enough to catch him off-guard, and, Blue, who already disliked Lance, gave him an unmentionably disgusted expression and went, “Hah?”

He caught on as Lance started talking. “The manager of Viridian Gym alerted me that their dear Gym Leader had proclaimed that he would be on leave because of his beloved.”

Later, he told me, I can’t believe they snitched, to which I told him, I can’t believe they didn’t snitch sooner. But, to Lance, what he really said was, “Oh, fuck.”

When Lance tried to convince Blue to return, Blue did not take too kindly to this. “What, so you can protect your dumb reputation?”

Lance, however, had an immense amount of patience, and said evenly, “No, but how do you want me to put this? You are a Gym Leader, but you are also a celebrity. People care about you and what you do. They’ll get curious if you do outlandish things like drop your job, and a curious crowd is a nosy crowd. If some inquisitive journalist decides to investigate the reason behind your absence—and the real reason, not the trivial excuse that you made—and manages to discover Red is hospitalised, I don’t even have to tell you that it would be a disaster. I’m already paying the hospital a hefty sum in order to keep their mouths shut. It would be crass of you to jeopardise Red’s privacy and safety.” Lance said, “I’ll put it this way. By going to work, you’d be doing it for his sake.”

Blue listened to him, and then grumbled. “You talk a lot.”

In the end, Lance offered a compromise. That Blue could work part-time for a little while, either through working less days a week or working less hours a day. Blue chose the former, because he did the maths and figured out that he would be getting more time off that way. So, when Red was in hospital, Blue worked Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays.

You would think that Blue’s actions would’ve warranted him a decent punishment, with him doing whatever crossed his fancy. But Lance didn’t tell him off for it at all, and never mentioned it again. He’d even worked with Blue to find a middle ground for something that was Blue’s obligation. That was pretty curious. But I guess it was special circumstances.

A lot of things became special circumstances from then.

Life with Red inside the hospital was different for all of us. I ended up setting my alarm for six-thirty in the morning. It was early, but it was the only way that I had enough time to wake up Blue, get ready, and wait outside the hospital for it to open at eight. They’d make us sign in whenever we entered, like we weren’t there daily. I signed my name so many times that I think I’ve perfected my signature. 

She didn’t have to, but Yellow would always be waiting for us. She’d trill a good morning and take us up to Red’s hospice room. He might be staring impassively out of the window, or be lying in bed, or have his eyes fixed on nothing in particular. It seemed that he was always awake, though.

I guess he couldn’t break the morning person habit. For someone who was so innately glued to the outdoors, waking up when the sun rose wouldn’t be fun anymore. Knowing you can’t go outside.

The three of us hung out until ten minutes before nine, where Blue had to go to work. If it was a day he had off, he’d instead disappear at this time to go take a brisk walk and buy breakfast for us at a nearby café. Otherwise, I was restricted to the cafeteria.

After the hospital became a daily place of visit, I realised why there was a food court necessary. The Viridian City Hospital’s food court was by no means a bad one, as far as hospital food went. When I wasn’t relying on Blue, I’d sit there and eat at a table by myself. I wouldn’t waste time eating, but I stopped scrolling on my phone during my meals after a while and just… looked around.

People-watching could be a fun activity, but sometimes it was insightful, and also confronting. The cafeteria was always busy with this drowsy buzz. People weren’t weeping melodramatically, but the air was depressing anyway. No one was there because they wanted to be.

Even now, I don’t know why bad things happen to people. I don’t think anyone deserves bad things to happen to them.

The first few days, it was difficult to be around Red. Or really, it was just difficult to be in that hospice room.

I couldn’t get past the fact that it was Red’s final room. It was where he was going to stay until he died. I was standing in an oversized coffin. I would walk into that room and my throat would close up as soon as I saw him in his bed. I knew he’d probably die in that same fucking bed in that same fucking room with the same fucking cancer that he had now. How could you expect me to be okay about it?

It was depressing. The hospital had to be some of the worst memories I have from when Red had cancer.

But I don’t despise it. Because Red’s time in the hospital also left behind some of my favourite memories. 

After a long while, Blue, Red and I got to spend heaps and heaps of time together.

It was a lot of fun. Blue brought in this box full of board games that hadn’t been brought out in a decade. We’d never been friends who played many board games, but I thought we made for a rather memorable group to play with. None of us had the intention of playing with the objective of having fun. And so anything we touched evolved to be aggressively competitive.

We didn’t get through a single game without some kind of argument about who was playing the game right (none of us). Blue appalled me with how much he cheated: even more frequently than I would and far less subtle in his attempts. He’s the only person I’ve seen attempt to rob the Monopoly bank of half its assets at once.

And whenever Red would detect himself being steered towards steadily losing, he’d take some insight and lie back down on his bed with his eyes shut and arms crossed, thus declaring he wouldn’t be playing anymore.

Sometimes the two of them were so frustrating that I would pray, I hope I never play with these bastards again.

I did, of course. We’d play by ourselves and with whoever was there at the time, Yellow or Gramps or occasionally Lance, who were probably exasperated with our immodest game ethics. We played those board games again and again, and when we got sick of them, made up our own games. 

If we weren’t arguing over who had the rights to win, we’d be arguing over something else. Or some intent discussion over anything in the world.

It was hard for Red to join in, obviously, but we worked around it. Though the ideas did get increasingly ridiculous. There was an investment into a YesNo button, a whole evening spent making emoji cut-outs so he could make live reactions as we spoke, and my personal favourite—a DIY ouija board, which did not amuse Red (much to our glee).

This was a given, but when we were talking for hours on end, the conversation would intermittently loop back to our Pokémon journeys. Red withdrew instantly, resentful about how he had his training abruptly halted, and I, who hadn’t been a trainer for years but still had unresolved feelings, shut up.

For a few minutes, we might be quiet, then Blue or I would propose a crude would you rather and the banter would resume.

It took a week of hopeful anticipation, but the hospital passed permission to bring Pikachu in. Yellow was really helpful with handling all the paperwork. When she let us know that we could take Pikachu into the hospital, I wanted to give her a giant hug. 

Waiting had been hard, but what was even harder was trying to get Pikachu into the pet crate for transportation. It had always been on the ill-tempered side, but its longing to be reunited with Red manifested in it becoming especially hissy and fierce. And it had never been a domestic Pokémon. But once I wrestled it into the pet crate and dragged it to Red’s room, it became miraculously quiet to see him.

I hardly unlocked the grated door before Pikachu shouldered out of the crate and leapt into Red’s arms.

Big as it was, it stretched upwards and draped itself over Red’s shoulders. Its little tongue darted out, licking Red’s cheek and whining like a baby. Tainted by the hospital, Red didn’t quite smell like himself anymore, and Pikachu was rubbing its body roughly against him in compensation, as if its scent would be able to restore its ownership over its trainer.

As if making skin-to-skin contact would stop him from dying.

Infrequent travelling ended up being once a week. Those days, I’d wake up later and meet Red and Yellow at Gramps’ lab. Red would be too busy with his Pokémon and we wouldn’t disturb him.

Yellow and Gramps showed instant synergy and easily bonded over tea. As mutual old souls, the conversation often grew a bit humdrum.

Sometimes I’d slip away, wandering deep into the lab. I’d end up circling back to the same place, the room where Gramps kept all the Poké Balls of his Pokémon. In the far back corner, on an emptier shelf, lined up six Balls, a little ruddy. Underneath, a sticker label in Gramps’ familiar handwriting etched out LEAF.

I would let my hand ghost over the Balls, never fully touching it, like it’d zap. It would’ve been so easy to just reach out and open them. I always got the itch to touch, to see my Pokémon again. Without doing anything, I’d just come back, over and over, missing my team and the headstrong resilience I had as a kid.

And the Egg… it didn’t move at all. Just lay there, cold and stoic. Like the hospital’s energy had killed it.

Blue was just as clingy inside the hospital.

“Red, are we best friends?” He asked, propping his elbows on Red’s bed and cradling his own cheeks. He blinked expectantly.

After being asked that for the ten-thousandth time, Red sighed and slammed his hand on the YesNo button.

YES! YES! YES! YES! YES!

Really, we’d never been bored in there. I should’ve known, it would never have mattered where we were, as long as the three of us were together, even the dreary routine of life could be enjoyed. My strongest assets were my friends, who were too easy to love.

Oh, and by the way, if you were wondering about the Macaron Tier List, we decided that the pistachio and ‘Pumpkin Spice Latte’  were worthy of S rank.

-x-

Haha, we celebrated Red’s birthday in the hospital.

Writing that out makes it sound so depressing. I spent my eighteenth locked up in my room like always, but I wouldn’t have preferred it to be in a hospital. I hated the idea of celebrating Red’s eighteenth in those stupid, sterile walls.

Not like we usually had some grand party. Those past years, the most acknowledgement I’d made for Red and Blue’s birthdays was sending them a happy birthday message. The last time we’d actually hung out as three for one of our birthdays would be when we were still kids.

Also, Red’s eighteenth birthday would be his last birthday.

When I realised this, I had the worst breakdown I ever had. Then I called Blue so we could plan out Red’s birthday party together.

There were some special conditions, like the fact we were restricted to the hospital, and the average person’s utopia of a birthday party would be a special kind of hell for Red. And the stakes were higher than ever, since this birthday needed to make up for every future birthday he wouldn’t get to have. We were working on the world’s hardest birthday party.

“Hard, get it, ‘cause this party’s gonna go hard,” reasoned Blue, which I didn’t think was funny.

Planning happened during little snippets of time I had, working around the day—waiting for Blue to get ready in the morning, while Red got his check-ups, having breakfast at the hospital cafeteria.

I could demonstrate some basic event-planning skills but I had no idea how to manage a party inside a hospital. I couldn’t even try to imagine it. And I wasn’t sure if they’d even let us throw a party in the middle of the hospital. With several questions and no real progress coming together, I asked someone who would know how to sort things out.

“Hello, Miss Leaf! How may I help?” 

I pulled Yellow aside one evening. Since she worked in the hospital, I thought she might have a realistic lens on what exactly we could pull off.

At that point, I hadn’t had a significant encounter with her. She would pop in and out throughout the day to organise meds and check in on Red, but I guess because Blue and I were there all day she didn’t really need to keep Red company.

The Miss Leaf business was really putting me off. I was almost never in a professional setting, and Miss Leaf was a foreign title for me. I shuddered a little. “H-hi. I was just wondering if I could ask you about something?”

“Indeed you can.” She was wearing that radiant smile, the one she always had. Isn’t Yellow such a suitable name? When she smiles, I feel like I’m very close to the shining sun.

Not sure exactly what to tell her, I blurted everything out. “Red’s birthday’s coming up in a couple months and I really want to throw a party… but I don’t want it to be a lame one in his room, because I hope this ends up his best birthday. So I wanted to ask what exactly we are allowed to do. A-and this is all a secret—Red definitely can’t find out.”

“What can’t Red find out?”

I heard his voice and thought, fuck, why is Lance everywhere? (Perhaps Blue had been onto something.)

“Good afternoon, Leaf, Yellow.” He nodded at the two of us. Lance would occasionally visit the hospital from time to time. I couldn’t determine the exact cause of his visits, whether it was courtesy or he wanted to keep Red updated about Plateau matters. He never stayed long. “What are we conspiring about behind our Champion’s back?”

He had an unreadable face and I was afraid that I was in trouble. Almost on instinct, my hands folded over each other behind me. But Yellow gave a hearty laugh.

“A birthday party,” she said.

“Oh, that I can permit.” He broke into a smile. (He was about a billion times less intimidating with his winning smile. If he did it a bit more, I wouldn’t be so piss-scared of him.) “What are we thinking?”

Yellow clapped her hands together. “We’re just thinking about what we could feasibly achieve.” Her round eyes fixed on me. “Hmm.”

She had a habit of bunching her lips together when she was thinking, which made her look like a little Espurr.

“I don’t know if staff would let us take Red outside the hospital. But how about this? The hospital is basically empty after visiting hours and patients are confined to their rooms for the night. If we have a party during the night, I’m sure that if we keep it down a little bit, it’s bound to be fun. I have after-hours access as well, so I’m more than happy to supervise. How does that sound?”

She tilted her head, and I thought that Espurr wasn’t the right Pokémon, she was more like a cute Rattata.

Lance was also deep in thought. “By any chance, would we be able to borrow the garden? It’s quite beautiful.”

She gasped. “Oh, what a good idea!” She nodded eagerly. “We’ll move all the equipment and decorate it in a lovely way. I’ll get permission from the hospital, but I’m sure they won’t mind…Well, why don’t you two keep discussing,” Yellow prompted, smoothing down her hair. “I’m just going to go get Red’s lunch. I’ll join you later—I’d love to give you a hand with your wonderful idea, Miss Leaf.”

“Oh, um, okay.” I saw Yellow walking away, and, getting awkward, hastily tacked on, “Thanks… M-Miss Yellow.”

I was waving limply at the back of her when I heard a pff. I looked at Lance, who was immensely amused. “Miss Leaf? Miss Yellow? Really?”

I clasped my hand over my mouth, feeling embarrassed. “Sh-she started calling me Miss Leaf first.”

His eyes were twinkling. “You really should drop the formalities,” he advised, “it will make future interactions a bit more bearable. Plus, she’s around my age, so you don’t have to act so polite.”

My head snapped up. I gaped at him. “Huh?! Is she actually?” I examined Lance, coming up with a new question. “How old are you?”

When you placed how totally put together and capable he was with his handsomely faint wrinkles and enormous stature, he could waive an age and transform into heralding a concept instead: super grown up.

His smile faltered. “How old do you think I am?”

Wanting to be nice, I guessed politely. “Thirty-eight?”

“…Really?” He had to clear his throat. “Th-that’s…”

I in fact had fucked up. Badly enough for Lance to never divulge his age to me at all.

I had to wait for him to leave before searching it up. He’s only twenty-nine, haha, so I really did him dirty.

I could see why he got so defensive, but I’d never thought of being older as a bad thing, which is funny, I’d hated the idea of getting older. Maybe it only applied to me?

Lance had been so tactful, he was smoothly able to redirect the conversation without further humiliating either of us. We continued speaking about Red’s party, except there wasn’t really much to speak about. I’d only just come up with the idea and my four dot points on my Notes app weren't contributing much.

But there was something I wanted to ask. “Lance, is there any way we could invite the Elite Four?”

I hoped I didn’t sound too nervous. Lance had been in charge of managing the publicity sides of things. He must really have been pulling some behind-the-scenes strings because I hadn’t heard a single peep out of the news yet. But is there a thing as being too excellent at one’s job? Not even the rest of the Four had an inkling.

And also, I couldn’t get Karen’s words out of my mind. There’s all these people who are on his side but I feel like Red’s clueless about it.

“I think they deserve to know,” I said.

He glanced at me. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I think they do.”

When he walked away he paused to glance at his reflection in the window, dragging a self-conscious finger down his jaw. Now I really felt bad. 

Strenuous as it may have seemed, planning the actual parameters of Red’s birthday was the easy part. The real stress arose trying to pick a present for him. 

I think maybe you could observe this from a first impression, but Red wasn’t a tokenistic guy. I couldn’t think of anything that he’d appreciate. And this was his last birthday, so I wanted to get him something that would count.

I thought that everyone else would have a similar problem, but when I asked Blue, he told me that he had his gift prepared. For years, apparently. That loser. After hearing that, I didn’t have the guts to ask anyone else for advice.

I walked into the hospital one day teetering on the edge of a breakdown. Yellow took one glance at me and bustled over, murmuring, “Oh, dear, Miss Leaf, is everything alright?”

She sat me down on one of the benches in the corridors of the hospital, her hand drifting up and down my back with a “There, there,” which had no right at being comforting as it had been. “Now, what’s going on?” she asked.

“I don’t know what I’m going to get Red for his birthday,” I said, sniffing to pull the incoming sobs back into my tear ducts.

“What a dilemma!” cried Yellow, in such a serious manner. She had to be the sweetest person in the world, putting up with my ridiculous bullshit. “We’ll have to solve this right away. What have we thought of so far?”

I shook my head. “Nothing,” I offered lamely.

To that, she immediately replied, “That’s okay! I’ll help you brainstorm. What does Red like?”

As if I hadn’t been trying to rack my head about this very question. “I have no idea,” I said blatantly.

Yellow was probably thinking I was the most horrible friend to exist. “It doesn’t have to be anything significant or dramatic. Or physical, even. It can be a tiny thing that he likes.” She taps her chin. An adorable habit. “For example, Red will pull the curtains back every morning, because he likes watching the sun rise. That’s something.”

“Yeah, he likes being outdoors,” I added. “And, he loves his Pokémon to bits and pieces. He likes having his independence but he also likes being around people from time to time. He likes playing Codenames, because he’s good at it—he likes winning. His favourite spot in the city is the trail of stalls in Cinnabar Island’s market area, with the little Goldeen taiyaki and that old man who’s really good at making Pokémon paper dolls. He likes having a routine. And he likes fireworks, and also, tiny flowers.”

I suddenly stopped, as Yellow was staring at me with this fond smile. “See, you do know what he likes.” Her small hand curled into a ball to knock my shoulder affectionately. “I wish you wouldn’t sell yourself short all the time, Miss Leaf.”

Her kindness was more than a threat than it came off as. I almost believed she might be right. “Also, he really liked the vanilla crème brûlée and the matcha flavoured macarons from that Pewter cake shop.” I chewed on my lip. “And… don’t call me Miss Leaf.”

Yellow nodded. “Alright, Leaf. But it sounds like we’ve come up with a lovely idea.” At my nonplussed expression, she prompted, “A nicely wrapped set of macarons sounds like a pretty darn good gift.” I heard a purr and Pikachu’s head popped out of the front of Yellow’s shirt (I’d been thinking there was a sizeable bulge at her chest where it was usually smooth). “What do you think, mister?” She glanced down at the Pokémon. “Would your trainer like macarons?”

Pikachu squealed eagerly, but I suspected that it was likely plotting to subtly redirect the gourmet dessert into its own mouth. 

“A resounding yes!” exclaimed Yellow. “Leaf, we’ve gotten the all clear. I think macarons are the way to go.”

I chuckled. “Um… we’ll see,” I said. “I’m sorry for distracting you from your job.”

She actually scoffed at that, the end of it dissolving into a flowery giggle. “Not at all. My job is to take care of people,” she said. “I really enjoy it.”

I’d been going in and out of the hospital for a few months and it had already become kind of unbearable. The mellow, destitute environment was something I could never grow accustomed to. It always rubbed me the wrong way until I felt myself surrendering to the same miserable feelings. But Yellow, in this stark place, never seemed to dull. “Do you like working here?”

“Hmm, I do,” she conceded. “But I know it can get sad sometimes.”

“You’re really good at your job.” Even though this hospital was so unlike her in character, she suited working here.

She seemed amused. “Thank you. It does come with practice. I wasn’t always so good at my job.” Pikachu wriggled out the front of her shirt to paw against her lap.

“I refuse to believe that.”

“You have permission to do so. But it’s true. I used to be quite silly, let’s see… oh, I have a funny story. One of my first patients was this little kid. I wanted to seem friendly, so I told him that I really liked his hair.” She scratched her head sheepishly. “Next week I popped in, he’d gotten chemo done.”

I laughed. “That sounds bad… Where's the kid now?”

Pikachu had found a comfortable spot in her lap and plopped down, pulling its tail close. Yellow pet it, a calm look on her face. “Doing well, I should think. He’s now a beautiful boy in heaven.”

My smile dropped. “Yellow, that’s not a funny story at all.” My throat closed up again.

“Yes, I know.” For a moment, she looked sad, which was so intolerable to see. Then she perked herself up, plastering a beam over her face. “But I try to find the good in the bad.”

Gramps had said something like that too. It still made my stomach crunch horribly.

We stayed in silence for a few seconds. I watched her continue to rub Pikachu down. The Pokémon’s ears were twitching in delight. “How’d you bait Pikachu into liking you?”

“Pardon?”

“Look, it’s literally curled up on your lap. Pikachu’s an arrogant prick, it doesn’t become friends with just anybody.”

“Really? He’s always been lovely to me.” To affirm this, Pikachu let out a long, lazy mewl.

I looked at Yellow, the very definition of sunshine itself, and could see why she’d melted even Pikachu’s cold—ice cold, mind you, subzero freezing—heart in an instant.

“Do you like Pokémon?” I asked.

She tilted her head affably. “Used to be a trainer, actually.”

It wasn’t something I could tell by looking at her. “Really?”

“Yes.” Her lashes fluttered in nostalgia. “They called me Yellow of Viridian Forest. Spent my days tramping around the grass and trees in my purple gumboots and a colossal yellow straw hat.” 

I squealed. “I used to wear a dumb big hat too!”

She smiled. “It’s quite a rite of passage, isn’t it?” She brushed Pikachu’s head, which made it twist over and sprawl out on its back, silently pleading for stomach rubs. She complied, continuing, “I had a Pikachu, too. I was very close to it.”

It was so crazy that Yellow and I were in the same position once. We were less different than I’d initially thought. “Where’s your Pikachu now?”

“Hmm, Chuchu?”—May we just take a moment to appreciate that Yellow’s Pikachu is called Chuchu—“She’s out having her own adventures in Viridian Forest now. We meet up less often these days. I suppose we’re both a little busy.”

I’d gotten excited. “You should bring it into the hospital! To meet Pikachu!”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, that does sound like a lovely idea. The poor boy is cooped up in a hospital all day by himself. Some Pokémon company would do him some good, I think,” Yellow surmised. “I’ll talk to her.” It was funny how Yellow acted like she could really speak to Pokémon.

“How come you’re not a trainer anymore, Yellow?” I asked. “You didn’t like it?”

“On the contrary,” she said. “The years that I was a trainer were some of the best years of my life.” She thought about it. “But I considered whether there was a difference between the person I wanted to be and my current self. I didn’t stop liking Pokémon, goodness, you couldn’t take that out of my blood. But I’ve realised that it’s not my purpose in this world. Being here, helping people, I get this lovely feeling in my breast and to me, it feels like I’ve found my place. But still, Pokémon makes up a very important part of me. I’m happy to rely on my past since it’s what makes up the person I am today.”

She sighed, then glanced back at me.

“What about you, Leaf? Why did you stop being a trainer?”

“Oh, I…”

Yellow noticed the way my face darkened. “Ah, sorry, it’s my fault for being nosy. You don’t have to tell me.” She added after a little while, “Well, it’s not because you hate Pokémon, right?”

I blinked down at my clasped hands, a faint tremor in them.

Sure, it hadn’t been a perfect journey. I’d gotten wet and cold and scared. Kanto was trying to fight a recession and there was a villain organisation thwarting hopes and dreams.

But all through it, I’d had my Pokémon. They were my Pokémon. I didn’t hate it at all, not the Pokémon I caught or the journey I survived. In fact, all I wanted was to be stuck in that time period, in an infinite loop of me being twelve. The only thing I hated was that it had to come to an end. That growing up was so fuck-ass. But being a Pokémon trainer? I missed it so, so much.

Yellow’s arm wrapped around my waist. She was a lot tinier than me and it was awkward, but I probably needed that hug. I leaned into it immediately. The warmth was reassuring.

“You’re good, Yellow,” I told her, my face in her straw-coloured hair.

“Thank you,” she said bemusedly.

“I-I mean, you make good company.” I pulled back nervously.

Her eyebrow quirked. “You’re not such bad company yourself, Leaf.”

“B-but I…I’m not. I’m always awkward.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Although, sometimes, it seems you’re unconfident of your own self. It looks to me that you’re holding yourself back.”

Holding myself back. Unusually, that seemed to hit something deep inside me.

“You want to be strong, or cool, or whatever kids want to be these days, but in the process, you’re too hard on yourself, harder than you need to be. You’re allowed to feel like there’s room for improvement, but don’t for a moment think that makes your current self lack value.”

I wouldn’t be able to find a single thing that was good about me. I was lacklustre, and uninspirational. It was part of the reason why I forced—forced?—myself to live as I had, since I was certain that was the only kind of life I deserved. Even if I wanted to be a lot more. It was a self-inflicted punishment.

But was it worth it, the cruelty I showed myself?

“You really are good at this, Yellow.”

Her eyes shimmered. “Leaf, I have a certificate for this stuff,” she said. “By the way, Leaf, I wanted to let you know that I asked the hospital whether we can celebrate Red’s birthday in the garden. As expected, they were 100% okay with it, and even offered us help if we needed anything. I was thinking we should hold it the night before, that way, when midnight strikes, we can properly celebrate the whole day, rather than a few hours. The next morning, after he’s woken up, I believe that I should take him to the lab. He can spend the day there, with his Pokémon, I think he’ll like that.”

When we went back to Red’s room, I took the opportunity to glance out the window doors out to the garden. Yellow was right, it was a really pretty place, but for some unknown reason it couldn’t help but make me sad.

-x-

I caught last-minute party jitters.

Although everything continued to run as planned—decorations moved into a storage room in the hospital and my present carefully wrapped, shiny gift bow and all—I spiralled into panicking about whether everything would work out, a looming fear that we wouldn’t be able to get things done in time and that it would all go spectacularly wrong. But I had to pretend that it was like any other day in front of Red, after all, this was going to be a surprise. 

It was difficult to gauge whether he was completely fooled by our act or whether he saw right through us, because his expression didn’t even waver slightly. 

I couldn’t keep my eyes off of the Egg. It hadn’t even twitched since Gramps brought it here, and I wondered if it could sense the death surrounding this place, and if that was the reason it stopped itself from hatching. But I didn’t dwell on it for too long. I was more concerned about whether this party would be a good surprise.

As visiting hours came to a close I bid my goodbyes to Red and left his room, but instead of walking down the corridor and out of the hospital, I took a detour that would loop back to where Yellow was waiting.

“Okay, so, Yellow, you’re in charge of getting Red down to the garden, thank you so much for doing this, and ahaha, of course, all of the help you’ve done, but it’s actually really crucial you get him down at midnight, actually, maybe ten minutes earlier, oh wait, but then it won’t be his birthday, so maybe ten minutes… actually, let’s just do midnight on the dot—”

“Leaf,” she said. “Stop worrying, you’re losing aura.”

I ceased my rambling to stare at her in horror. “Yellow, what?!”

She revealed proudly, “I’ve been reading up on the slang, since I now have friends my age,” which I told her to stop immediately.

I used the elevator to head down to the garden. I’d never been before, only glanced at it through the windows or from the balcony in Red’s room.

The elevator doors slid open to a pale cobblestone path that wound on to the garden, flanked on either side by trimmed shrubs. It snaked its way through the most vibrant grass I’d ever seen in Kanto’s limp weather. Flowerbeds with warm brown earth and bright flowers were draped at every corner. The lampposts kept the place lit in a haunting, surreal way. Each path led down to the centre piece—a small marble fountain that stood with dignity. The water burbling from it echoed through the empty place.

Blue and one of his Pokémon were already waiting with the bags of decorations.

“Hey.” I waved at Blue. As I drew closer, Alakazam’s silhouette grew defined. “Hi Alakazam! What’s the occasion?”

“You were worried about not finishing in time, right?” Here we went again with Blue’s radicality.  “I figured you were right. Two people would never be able to decorate a whole place in a couple of hours. So I thought we could do with some extra help.” He nodded at the awaiting Pokémon. “Alakazam, Psychic these decorations. I trust your taste.”

In a burst of energy, Alakazam whisked up the decorations and began setting up at an admirable speed. I watched in elated surprise. “Alakazam’s gotten pretty skilled,” I said, a flutter in my chest.

“You did a pretty good job of raising it.” He smirked. “But I think I did better.”

“You said you’d trade it back when it evolved!” As funny as it was, I was quite upset back then.

“Your worst mistake was trusting me,” he said sinisterly.

I crossed my arms. “Thief.”

“What? No. It was a fair trade. You got a lovely Gengar in return. That thing took too much energy to raise. I swear I spent half my time chasing it. Kept it locked up in its Poké Ball most of the time.” He scowled.

“Abuser,” I proclaimed to the empty garden.

“Bitch, if anything, it was the one abusing me.” He shuddered. “Jeez, I’m getting chills,” he said. “Isn’t that a symptom of PTSD? I think that might be it. Or, maybe it’s Gengar, back to haunt me,” he cried dramatically, clutching his elbows.

“Yeah, because he misses you,” I said ominously. “Watch out.”

“No!” he yelled out, a convincing fear etched in his features. He concluded it with a sharp laugh and shook off his act. “But really, Alakazam’s grown a lot. You’d be proud of it. We should battle sometime…” He fell quiet, and we both looked away.

We’d been talking easily, almost normally, and then the thing that was still standing between us made itself known.

“I think we need to talk,” he murmured. “But it’s not the time right now.” He coughed, then glanced up, renewed vigour in his eyes. “Alakazam looks like it’s more or less done.”

I wasn’t going to ruin tonight. I beamed. “Wow, that was quick. It looks really good!”

There was a cake box at Blue’s feet and he hoisted it into his arms. “I’m actually so hungry,” he announced.

“You’re actually so fat,” I said, skipping behind him as he carried the box over to the table. “Did you like my cake idea?”

He laid the box down before laughing. “I don’t even know how you come up with stupid shit like this.” He rubbed his forehead as I cackled. “But I took a peek, it looks good. Worth the money.”

The elevator pinged and we glanced up to see Gramps arriving. He was carrying the basket with a wrapped thin rectangle under his other arm. I sprinted over to help him.

“Ho!” he said, impressed, letting me take the basket from him, which had Pikachu sitting inside. It stood up on its hind legs, calling out in eager greeting. “You two did a good job.”

“Really? Thanks.” Alakazam was back in its Ball and there’d been a silent agreement between Blue and I to take the credit. What Gramps didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

“Oi, did you get his Pokémon?” called out Blue, jogging up to us.

I checked the basket. “Hmm… five Poké Balls and one Pikachu. Seems about right.” I flicked the yellow rodent, who grabbed my hands between its paws and gnawed at it good-naturedly.

Blue and I were really determined to keep the party moping-free, so we put in extra effort into talking to keep the vibes up. Gramps risked getting sentimental, but Blue quickly cut in by telling him to shut up. 

We were too deep in conversation to hear the second ping of the elevator, but we were nevertheless quickly alerted.

“Where’d you get that sexy sportscar, Will?”

“I seduced a grandpa off of Facebook Marketplace. Banger discount.”

“Nice hustle, my brother.”

“Absolutely not. Why can you not refrain from making one sensibly inclined use of your money?”

“‘Cause I’m fucking broke from gambling debts, duh…haha, I love pissing you off.”

Lance summoned patience to ignore Will, aware of our curious stares. “Good evening, everyone.” He bowed slightly in Gramps’ direction.

I was about to respond when I was attacked by a flash of blue. Karen was clutching my arms. Her eyes were bleary and her makeup was runny. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea,” she said. “Lance only told me yesterday.” She glared at Lance.

Lance’s hand fluttered to the back of his neck. “I’m sorry for that.”

“Just ‘cause you’re here running the Plateau doesn’t mean you get to stealth around us with things. It’s our League, too. I want to know what’s going on,” Bruno said. “Except paperwork. You can handle that yourself. But you don’t have to take on everything alone.” He raised his hand in a fistbump, which Lance delayed for half a second—long enough for Will to intercept it.

Will pushed his mask up. “But seriously. This situation’s really messed up. There’s nothing we can do about his terminal leukaemia?”

Lance reached out to adjust Will’s lop-sided collar. “No, I’m afraid not.”

“That’s kind of what terminal fucking means,” spat Blue. (I was just surprised he’d kept his mouth shut for this long.) 

“Blue,” Gramps sighed. But he also seemed resigned. “It’s been difficult.”

“I can imagine, Professor,” said Bruno. “The League hasn’t been the same these past few months with Red gone. But it’s a different kind of hard knowing why he’s not there with us. Or that he won’t be back.”

Karen’s sob cut through the silence. “This is so sad.” She wiped her eyes, smearing her mascara further. “I’m gonna fucking miss him. He’s literally the coolest person I know.” 

Lance rummaged through his pocket to pull out a tissue, which he handed to Karen wordlessly. But his eyes were trained on me, like he was waiting for me to speak.

“Um…” It was barely a whisper, but I suddenly had everyone’s attention. Now I had to say something. My skin prickled. “Th-this is Red’s eighteenth, which is going to be his last birthday. Which… sucks. But uh, it’s still his birthday. And we’re here to celebrate. N-not to mourn. There’s going to be so much time to mourn later. But for now, we should stay high in spirits. For Red, and also ourselves. Let’s focus on making today one to remember.” I ended it with a nervous laugh, fingering a lock of hair.

An applause spread through the group, which I hadn’t expected. I made eye contact with Blue, who grinned at me.

“So,” said Bruno, “where’s the birthday boy?”

“Yellow’s going to bring him here at midnight,” I replied. 

Gramps coughed. “I think you might want to check your phone.”

I pulled out my phone from my pocket. 12.06AM. “U-uh, in that case, I have no idea…” I began to think about every way that something could have gone wrong.

Blue slapped my back. “Come on, you know Red’s a stubborn shit. Convincing him to do anything at all is gonna take a rock and a slingshot. Have some faith in Yellow.”

“I’m sure he’ll be down soon,” Lance agreed. “Karen, go fix your makeup.”

Karen glowered. “Are you calling me ugly?”

Lance handed her purse to her. (He’d been carrying it that whole time. He’s really gentleman material, huh?) “I know you are fixated on looking like a… a baddie, and you would like for your makeup to not be utterly smudged.”

Bruno nodded. “Yeah, go do what you need to do. I’ll keep holding your flowers until you come back.” He was grasping a colossal bouquet of a colourful spray, encircled in pink paper and tied with a silk bow.

“I’m making sure Red’s gonna have flowers by his bed every day from now on,” she vowed roughly, scuttling off to the bathroom.

Red didn’t come down until almost half past twelve. We were planning to yell surprise but we’d gotten caught off guard. Yellow staggered behind him, looking like she wanted to die. It probably took an excruciating amount of effort to lead him down there. 

I darted forward, exclaiming, “Happy birthday, Red!” 

He stared at me, nonplussed. Wait, don’t tell me… I made a face at Yellow, who rubbed her temples in exasperated frustration.

“You dumb fuck, did you forget it was your fucking birthday?” Blue’s words were harsh in nature but kind of affectionate in tone. “Happy birthday, idiot.”

Red’s eyes scanned over everything—the decorations, the guests, and then, to Blue and I. I saw something in his gaze shift, and the corner of his mouth twitch ever so slightly. Pikachu, on a trestle table let out a yelp and leapt across the grass to jump into its trainer’s arms.

“I’m gonna give you a hug,” I told him. It wasn’t like I was asking for permission, because I immediately launched myself at him.

I clasped Red tightly in my arms, not caring how I looked. I only went halfway up his torso, and I realised that Red had gone under a massive growth spurt sometime between when he was ten and eighteen. When we were kids, he was the shortest out of all of us, and the last time I’d given him a hug, he was just past my shoulders. How the tables had turned.

Pikachu was squeezed in between and when it’d decided it had enough of the sentiment it gave us a cautionary zap to separate us.

“You’re gross,” said Blue loudly.

“Do you want to hug him too?” I asked cheekily.

“No,” he said, even louder. “That’s gay.”

“Not like you’re beating the allegations at any rate.”

Red snickered, and I laughed harder.

“Happy birthday, Red,” said Lance, and in chorus, the rest of the Elite Four repeated after him. Then everyone began to crowd around him.

I pulled away, letting him have the attention. After a few seconds, I felt Gramps standing next to me. “When did you organise all of this by yourself?”

“It wasn’t just me,” I said. “Blue helped too.”

“He was on and off work,” countered Gramps. “I have an inkling that it was largely to your effort that this party came to fruition.”

I glanced down at my hands, a little rougher than I remembered them, even though I hadn’t done anything much more physical lately. “Ah, well… it’s the least I could do. He’s my friend.”

“You could’ve asked me for help. You don’t always have to ­­­be able to do everything.” His wrinkles came in even further, and I quickly flashed him a smile, wanting to reassure him.

“Gramps, it was for me. I wanted to do something for myself for once,” I said, and felt very lucky. “I’m really happy I could do it.”

His old shoulders fell a little more rounded. “This seems much more like the Leaf I’m familiar with.”

My smile drooped.

“These few years…” His face darkened. “I don’t know what happened. I can make guesses, but you won’t open up to me about what actually went on to change you. Until you decide to tell me—I’ll wait patiently until you’re strong enough to—there will always be a Gramps part of me that’ll worry about you. I know you hate how often I pester you, but the thing is I know you don’t want to really live like that. You’d completely isolated yourself, Cloyster’d up, and I know that’s not like you. These last couple of months, I feel like I’ve been able to see the Leaf that I loved so much again.”

I curled my hand around my hair, tugging at it like I wanted to pull the chunk out. “The annoying Leaf?” I mumbled, trying to keep my grin.

“Some annoying has always done me some good,” he beamed, and rubbed my shoulder, just like the way he used to. “It keeps me aging handsomely.”

“In that case, I think you should take a look in the mirror.”

“You sound more like your brother every day,” he shook his head.

“Hmm, what was his name again?” Our inside joke. My gaze drifted back to the group. “Gramps, do you think he’ll like my present?”

“Of course he will,” he replied.

“You don’t even know what I got him!” I cried.

“He’ll like it,” Gramps assured me.

“Will he, though?” I pressed.

“Leaf, we give presents to show how much we care about people,” said Gramps. “Red will like anything you give him.” If there was anyone in the world who could make me feel better, it was my Gramps. “I still have your crayon art from when you were four taped up all on my walls.”

“Do you actually? But they’re so bad.” I cringed, remembering the crude caricatures of our family holding hands, my rudimentary impression of the Oak family.

“How could you ever say that?” Gramps sounded astonished. Resentful, maybe. “You worked so hard on it.”

Something about the way he said that made me remember the Gym Challenge. I rid myself of the thought immediately, not wanting to sour my mood. “W-what did you get Red?”

“It was a difficult decision,” said Gramps. “I know that boy doesn’t care enough about everything or anything. The only thing that goes on in his mind is about Pokémon. So I gave him something exactly that.”

I pictured the flat oblong shaped gift in the brown parcel packaging. Something clicked. “You gave your art book to him? The one that you drew in during your journey, the one that you haven’t shown anyone?”

“Yes.” He paused as if he considered his decision again. “It’s full of Pokémon drawings, albeit perhaps too scientific for him. I think he might enjoy my annotations. It’ll keep him company when you two can’t.”

The art book sat on Gramps’ bookshelf, squeezed between academic volumes and scientific publishings. It was spiral bound and sufficiently tattered enough to be noticed. He’d never let anyone look inside it, always chided Blue and I for trying, pledged to us, when you’re old enough.

The excuse caused me to forget about it over the years. I guessed that it was personal, full of thoughts and scrawls that he wasn’t ready to impart upon us. And now he was giving it away to Red.

“Am I old enough to read it?” I asked, half-joking.

He gave a wry smile. “You became old enough to read it the moment you stopped asking.” I wondered what that meant. “You’re free to read it when he’s done with it. I’ll give you my journal from that time too. I figured Red wouldn’t care much about a spliced autobiography, but I think you’ll get a good thrill out of it.”

I couldn’t imagine Gramps being as young as me, inexperienced and reckless. But it must’ve been true. No one started out a perfect grown-up, after all.

“Gramps?”

“What is it?”

“Why don’t you call me dear anymore?” I asked. My anguish was probably written all over my face. “Do you not like me?”

He looked shocked. “You’ve grown into a very curious lady, Leaf Oak,” he pronounced. “I remember that it was you yourself who told me not to call you that anymore.”

“I did?” I gasped. 

“Yes, many years ago. You said it made you feel too little.” He was smirking.

“Well, um…” To cover my blushing face, I slid under Gramps’ arm, hugging him. “I like feeling little when it’s you.”

He ruffled my hair, messing it up astoundingly. “Okay, Leaf. Dear,” he corrected himself..

“What’s this?” sang out a tantalising voice. Blue dashed into view. “I didn’t know it was family bonding o’clock.” When I pulled back, horrified, he cawed, “No, no, proceed, proceed.”

Red was trailing behind him. I noticed something small in his hands. “What’s that?”

“My present,” announced Blue. “I gave it to him early.”

Red lifted it up, and I realised it was a ring box.

“Shit, you proposed?!”  I was unsure how to feel about Blue’s newfound level of brashness.

I almost had a heart attack, but there wasn’t a ring inside—it was a Charizardite X, which Blue had received as a gift after his work in Kalos. Around Red’s neck was a thin chain that had a Key Stone dangling from it. Blue had gone to Kalos a few years back. I wondered if he’d been planning to give Red the Mega Stone all this time. 

Oh, on a similar note, I suppose, the Elite Four’s gift was a Light Ball. I don’t think you can find them in Kanto! Lance must have pulled some crazy strings to acquire one. It really thrilled Pikachu, who wasted no time in toying with it; its contentment rather resembled a Persian with a ball of yarn.

On top of that, Karen spent her own money on that bouquet, which she handed to Red. Before she could throw her arms around him, Bruno yanked her back, telling her to respect his boundaries. He’d been talking to Yellow. Watching them interact with the extreme height difference was really funny.

Though she hadn’t been expected to, Yellow also had a present. She’d fashioned a candle out of wax from the Beedrill in Viridian Forest, in the shape of a miniature Pikachu. 

People really went above and beyond with their gifts. I hadn’t bought Red anything nearly as extravagant or showy and got embarrassed when it came to my turn. He pulled open the box to find a brand new cap, identical in style to his old one. 

“I-I know you won’t be able to train again while wearing it. But it’s not befitting of a living legend to own that shoddy thing,” I explained.

His gaze hardened, stroking the coarse new fabric.

I felt guilty for my gift. It probably was sparking a little too much reminiscing. I should’ve just slipped it to him after the cake, which was red velvet—get it, red velvet? Blue and I thought we were so funny for this. Gramps shook his head, sighing, “What did I expect, you two are my grandkids.” It was delicious. Ah, I’m craving it now. 

By around half past two in the morning, maybe, Red was yawning uncontrollably. A person who operated based on sunlight hours, he’d been awake for almost 24 hours and was beginning to wilt like he was being waterboarded.

I offered to take him up there myself. I made Red go around with me to tell everyone that he’d be leaving, and they bade him off warmly.

He also parted with Pikachu for the night. Though he’s not characteristically affectionate, he clasped the Pokémon to his chest tightly for a long time. As if he’d never see it again.

I almost embraced the inviting quiet of Red’s room, gliding in to sink into the armchair. Red himself made no delay in getting into his bed.

As he slumped against his pillow, I wriggled into a comfortable position. “Did you like your birthday, Red?”

Despite how exhausted he was, he broke into a dim smile. Red… had a really wholesome smile, with crinkled eyes and childish dimples. 

“That makes me really happy,” I told him.  “Sorry my present was a bit lame.” I hesitated. I’d been hoping to be alone with him. “Um… actually, I have another present for you.”

His eyes were falling shut but they snapped open, and he propped himself up on his elbows so he could give me his full attention.

I was so nervous. I inhaled softly, and, carefully, lifted my hands and began moving them, just like I’d practised in front of the mirror for hours.

「Hello. My name is Leaf Oak. I am twenty years old. I live in Pallet Town. When I was twelve years old, I went on a Pokémon journey with my brother Blue, and my most best friend in the world, Red.」

I saw his eyes dilate. I thought they’d gone starry, and he looked at me like an amazed kid. Slowly, he lifted his own hands. 「Hey.」

And then, before anything else could happen, there was a huge CRACK. We both jumped, our eyes darting to the Egg, and we watched as bits of the shell split and scattered apart.

From it, unfurled a tiny, ivory-coloured Togepi.

This created a huge commotion. I immediately went down to announce this to everyone and soon the whole group trouped into Red’s room and found the Togepi nestled in Red’s arms, trilling happily. Red looked fascinated, his grip absolutely gentle.

Everyone was equally enraptured over the newly hatched Pokémon. I tugged Gramps’ sleeve.

“Gramps, I’ve never seen an Egg hatch,” I said, soft with wonder.

“Yes, it’s quite wonderful, isn’t it? There are perks to being a professor,” he agreed. “But I think there’s something that you should know.”

“Is it serious?” I asked worriedly, wondering if there was going to be an awful catch.

“You know how I mentioned that Eggs are attuned to their environment? Togepi, well… they only hatch if they sense immense happiness.”

My eyes widened. Immense happiness. 

I gave Gramps a hug, wanting a lot to cry. He patted my back. “You did good,” he murmured.

The Togepi hatching was the manifestation of Red’s happiness. But it wouldn’t have happened if it was still in the lab. The person who brought it here…

“Wait, Gramps, you’re the one who brought it here,” I said, pulling away, momentarily breaking out of my crying.

Gramps smiled, and he always smiled so reassuringly. “I knew that you could do it,” he said. My heart skipped a beat. “And, Leaf,” he added, “I don’t think Togepi hatched sensing only Red’s happiness.”

I looked back. This room, too small to fit all of us or the joy and love pouring out of everyone.

Gramps was right. My own happiness was right there, with the people I cared about the most.

-x-

If there was one upside to keeping poor Red up for hours he’d never been up for before, it was that it fucked up his previous sleep routine, which was already fucked up and so what happened was that the two fucked-upped-ness cancelled each other out and caused him to have a revolution in his sleep cycle into a more ordinary and appreciable one. Meaning he no longer would have to wake up at forsaken hours.

Well, this was in theory. In fact, although Red was more than ready to and probably needed his extra few hours, little chick Togepi in fact woke up simultaneously with the sun and was also prepared to announce it with its shrill voice until Red woke up and entertained it.

I’d walk in with Red looking tired out of his mind and Togepi looking like it had the best morning of its life, which it did, every morning. Then Togepi would make another cheered sound and Red couldn’t help but smile uncontrollably.

Well, there was more than one upside.

Togepi had done something to Red. Unlike several newly hatched Pokémon, it demanded an immense amount of attention, at all times, and Red, known for being brash, uncommitted, and apathetic, had suddenly transformed into a highly thoughtful and devoted person, becoming Togepi’s primary caretaker and taking responsibility for all its needs.

“I always thought Red would make a shitty father,” remarked Blue, watching as Red dangled a piece of yarn just out of Togepi’s grasp, much to the Pokémon’s joy.

“Nah, he’d so be a DILF,” I declared.

That embarrassed Blue more than I expected it to. “Come on,” said Blue, shaking off the initial blush. “Even if you’re saying that now, could you really be saying that seeing him ten years old?”

“I really wanted a DILF when I was ten years old,” I informed him.

“Gross, Leaf, I didn’t need to fucking know that.” His nose wrinkled. “Talk about TMI.”

“I felt like telling you,” I grinned. I thought about what he said. “Well, obviously I’m not going to call a ten year old a DILF.”

“And you can call him that now?”

“Yeah, ‘cause he’s not ten anymore, duh. He…has grown up.” The words that always left my mouth sticky tasted different this time. 

Blue, i.e. growing up is so fuck-ass guy, took my words seriously. “Yeah, I see that. Back then he was so closed up, always trying to do everything by himself, too stubborn and… ugh, he was cool, I guess. And he’s cool now. But in a different way.”

I didn’t know if I could say the same for myself. I wasn’t nearly as cool as little Leaf, fearless and determined. But little Leaf also liked to pick her nose and rub the crusts over her skirt, and I didn’t do that anymore. So maybe I was cool in my own way.

“I guess I’ve grown up too.” How much sweeter that word sounded, almost heretical. I shouldn’t be pleased about it, but I was. “And you as well, Blue. But you’ll never be a DILF.”

He scowled in offense. “Hey, why not?”

”Growing up may be fuck-ass,” I said with graveness, “but you look like you get fucked in the ass.” I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I burst into laughter.

He blanched, spitting back with, “At least I’m not built like I have a shower allergy.”

Sympathetically, I smiled. “I’d rather have a shower allergy than an STI.”

I’d really got him. Blue leapt to his feet in a rage, accidentally stepping on Pikachu’s tail. I curled over on my seat with laughter as he was punished with a zap. 

It was already in a bad mood because it was watching Togepi receive a shower of affection that should’ve been for it. At first, it’d tried its best Baby-Doll Eyes to garner pity, but it didn’t even know that move and the two of us knew that was an adult Pokémon getting jealous over a hatchling and so we ignored it.

Currently, it was sulking, but I could feel its ears brush against the back of my calves every now and then and I knew it was giving up. Out of all of Red’s Pokémon, it was the most immature; it never really had grown out of its size.

We watched as the flowers from the vase—Karen’s flowers—floated up into the air and spun in a circle before being lowered onto the bed next to Togepi. It looked happy to have achieved what it had, then pounced on the flowers to nibble on them with evangelical vore.

Red gasped and pulled it away. Togepi, who fit in the curve of Red’s hand, scrabbled aimlessly mid-air, Red’s fingers serving as ample prison. It protested noisily as Red held it up. 

It wasn’t the first time Togepi had tried to eat the flowers or used Psychic without prior notice and it was about time it faced consequences for its actions. Personally, I thought it should get some credit for getting creative enough to combine the two efforts into one. 

“Arceus, you wanna keep that Psychic in check or something?” Alongside Pikachu, Blue unveiled embarrassingly childish envy at Red’s fondness for Togepi. He’d find every excuse to throw an attack at a Pokémon who hadn’t even emerged out of its Egg. 

“It’s at that stage,” I said. “Psychic-Types get so excited when they discover their Psychic powers and so they’ll start using it out of curiosity.”

I saw a similar pattern occur in my Kadabra while it was still under my possession, soon after its evolution. At one point it had learned to pry other Pokémon’s Poké Balls open so I’d wake in the middle of the night to find my then-Vulpix had set a tree on fire.

“To be fair,” I added, “I’d be pretty psyched too if I found out I had telekinesis.”

Red sighed, and dropped Togepi. It fell into his lap with a soft fwop. He poked it, and it started tittering again, rolling around.

Red looked at us, deadpan.

“Hey, cutie, come here.” I was also jealous, but of Red. Togepi was so adorable and I wanted to devote my whole life to it. I walked over to Red’s bed. I’d been there when it hatched, so it was friendly towards me. While Red would remain its favourite, Togepi liked me enough to accept itself into my arms when I picked it up. (Anyone else’s attempt was rewarded with an energetic bite.)

Pikachu sulked by Blue’s feet. “You and me, buddy,” he told it. “I get you.”

The door swung open, and Yellow scuttled inside. She was a little out of breath when she squeaked, “Sorry I’m late today!”

We all bid her good morning. Pikachu, suddenly alert, got to its haunches, sniffing curiously.

“Pikachu, I have someone you should meet.” Yellow then stepped aside, and standing about half a foot tall and with a flower tucked by its ear was another Pikachu. The legendary and precious Chuchu.

After this, the most adorable interaction happened. Chuchu was perhaps the incarnation of Yellow herself, tiny, and ridiculously sunny. Red’s Pikachu, on the other hand, was well-built and equipped with an ego that beat Pokémon Tower. Having to defend its alleged prestige, it firmly kept its head turned away (although it couldn’t hide its ears from twitching notoriously). With a blessed level of patience not unlike its trainer, Chuchu lingered around it, eagerly nudging Pikachu.

Eventually, not even the bad boy tough guy act from it was impervious to Chuchu, and it gave up with a whine, and the two bounded off together to engage in their Mouse Pokémon mischief.

“They’re so cute,” I said, physically affected by the cuteness.

“Chuchu looks so happy,” said Yellow. “I’ll be sure to bring her here more often.”

“That made me feel fucking single,” complained Blue.

“What do you mean? Your boyfriend is right here,” I snapped. Red looked over his shoulder to look for the boyfriend in question.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” said Blue.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I repeated, just to piss him off. I tossed Togepi back into Red’s lap. It made Yellow clack her tongue with disapproval, but Togepi was shaped like a tennis ball and liked to be treated as one too. “Come and get a drink with me, Blue.”

“Yeah, you mean come pay for my drink,” he accused, rightfully. He rose to his feet and I stuck my tongue out at him in surrender.

“Since you’re such a good little brother.” I waved at Red before the two of us ventured on our walk. Well, it wasn’t much of a walk. There was a vending machine right outside Red’s room.

As I contemplated what drink to get, I noticed Blue staring at me out of the corner of my eye. Without turning around, I demanded, “What?”

“I love this.”

I didn’t usually see him smile like that. “Love what?”

“You know.” He shrugged. “The three of us are hanging out together. It feels like… like we’re ten years old again. I’m so happy. I don’t remember the last time I’ve been this happy. ”

My knuckles rested against the cold glass of the vending machine, and I admitted, “Yeah, me too. This is so much fun.”

We were happy. But we were happy in the eleventh hour, with a gun to our heads.

“You know, I never really wanted to be an adult,” he mumbled, face ducking. “It means taxes, and keeping up appearances, and it feels like it sucks the joy out of everything. I want to just be a kid again, on my stupid Pokémon journey. Sometimes I hate everything that’s real.”

Sometimes I hate everything that’s real. That had been exactly my feelings for the past eight years. “Yeah,” I said. “I hate growing up.”

What I really wanted, right now, was to burst into tears.

“It’s like a fucking reality check that no one asked for. Life is hard, and there’s so many things I have to be responsible for, and things actually start mattering. Being a kid, all I wanted to do was to grow up, get cooler, get smarter, get stronger. But I’m here now, grown up—fuck, Leaf, I hate those words—and it’s all awful. And I know it’s only going to get worse.”

“I don’t think so.”

We glanced over to see Yellow standing there. She made an apologetic face.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help but eavesdrop. Can I join you two?” She trotted over. “Now, what’s all this nonsense about growing up?”

I could see what Blue really wanted to say, it’s fuckass, but he held back in front of Yellow. “It just feels like the most depressing thing in the world. And I just wanna be a kid forever. I don’t want to grow up.”

Yellow smiled good-naturedly. “Ah, but growing up… it only happens when you think it does.”

I’d never heard anyone make this argument before. “Is that true?”

She giggled. “I don’t know. It’s just my thoughts.” She really was adorably bizarre. 

At one point, my personality had been buried so deep inside me that I thought I would never get to be myself again. Now that I felt that I was reclaiming the person I wanted to be, I was having so many childish thoughts. Like… thinking about Pokémon again.

Yellow beamed. “I actually came out to get Red a drink. He seems like he wants one. What’s his taste like?”

“Oh, he’d love the Oran Berry matcha,” I clipped. “It’s yummy.”

“Do you know how obese you have to be to have tried every single drink at the vending machine in a fucking hospital?” Blue retorted. Noticing how Yellow’s tiny hand was curled around a folded note, he stated, “Don’t worry about it, Yellow, I’ll pay.”

“You really are a good boyfriend,” I said approvingly.

This time he grabbed the hair on my scalp. He continued with Yellow. “And I’ll buy you something too. Take your pick.” Then he gave my hair a firm tug, making me squeal. “What were you saying? I was too busy being a gentleman. It’s called having minimum courtesy. But I guess you don’t know anything about that.” His hand fell, dragging over the length of my hair,  threatening to give it another pull.

“No!” I cried. I gripped his arm. “No more, I’m sorry. Screw off.”

“Hmph, I’m lettin’ you off easy this time, Leaf.” He released his hand to pull out his wallet from his back pocket. As he paid, he added, “Or should I say, Leafat?” 

Yellow let out a horrified squeak but Blue was cackling his head off in triumph.

Listen, I’ll tell you something really funny. When something changes slowly, you won’t notice it straight away. You’ll keep living in childish ignorance until the magnitude of the change dawns on you and you realise, I’ve been really stupid this whole time. 

In laughter, we walked back into Red’s room, but I stepped in and my smile fell as I laid eyes on a total stranger. A gaunt and grey monster was sitting up in bed, with hollow, bloodshot eyes and red spots poisoning its bony arms. A wretched parasite was parading around as my best friend, and it wasn’t even doing a good job. This wasn’t what the Kanto Champion should look like. 

Twelve months had whittled down to three and you didn’t need a calendar to tell.

I couldn’t force much mirth from me and sat numbly in one of the armchairs while Blue chattered on to Red. Slowly, Red fell asleep mid-conversation, a new, foreign habit he’d acquired. Seeing this, Blue let out a passive sound and leaned over to rest his head in the arms he’d draped over the bed. Soon, I heard his even breaths too.

Time seemed to skid to a stop, and I rested my head back against the wall. The white hospital wall.

“Are you okay, Leaf?” Yellow’s voice was floaty and compassionately curious.

If I looked at her, I’d be able to see Red in his bed from the corner of my eye, so I kept my gaze at the ceiling. “This room is so depressing, Yellow.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“He’s gonna die,” I said, colourless as the ceiling I was staring at. “This room looks so sad.”

Brilliant and shrewd, she tittered, interlocking her arm with mine. “Take a moment to look around,” she said, as I glanced down at her warm grip. “This room is brimming with happiness.”

In pain and difficulty, I let myself scan over the room.

The set of drawers had a haphazard stack of board games, alongside a sheet of paper tacked onto one wooden side listing penalties for unethical playing practice, devised because we were cheaters so very frequently. The previously bland vase was overflowing with a spray of vivid flowers, Karen’s promise. One of the drawers peeked open, stuffed with the things I brought when I tried to enact a rudimentary magic show. In the corner, a little cot was set up for Togepi to sleep (albeit it did so rarely, much preferring to curl up in Red’s arms and snooze there).

And so many of our things had been accumulating here. A charger, some dental floss, hair bands, odd socks, and so many other random things had piled up from Blue and I spending so much time in one place. The weighted blanket that I couldn’t sleep without now had Red coddled inside, a permanent relocation. If I squinted my eyes I could see the bathroom amenities we’d stolen from St. Anne lined up next to the board games.

With the door shut, Red’s old cap could be seen hanging from the door handle. The new one was slung over a corner of the bedframe.

“Brimming with happiness?” I murmured, amazed at the quaintness of the phrase, which Yellow’s vocabulary often was. I couldn’t help but chuckle grimly. “Yellow, I don’t know if it’s right to feel happy.”

She bunched her lips for a few seconds, then shook her head. “I think it’s always right to be happy. But I understand that times come where it’s hard to be.” She looks to where Red is sleeping. “Still, I ask you to hold on. There’ll be time to cry later. Red finds strength in your smile.”

I laughed. “I’m not that important.”

She doesn’t laugh with me. “You’re a little heedless.” Her head rested on my shoulder, and I was almost fooled into believing I was next to Mum. “The way you keep underselling yourself makes me mistake you as immature.”

I chuckled, pulling out of her gentle grasp with a shake of my head. The cold of the room had been getting to me. I walked over to the bed to pull the blanket over Red’s body then slipped off my jacket to drape over Blue.

Fondly, Yellow remarked, “You are a very silly girl, Miss Leaf.”

-x-

One day, Blue and I walked into an empty room.

I saw the vacant, unmade bed, and the story wrote itself.

“Blue,” I mumbled, reaching for his hand.

“Calm down.” He was already by the glass sliding doors. “They’re in the garden. Look.” A pleasant breeze blew into the room as he pushed the door open, and I followed Blue onto the balcony.

It took me a while to notice the little figure of Yellow pushing Red around in a wheelchair.

Their doll-like outlines were charming. “I’ll call him.” I pulled out my phone and rang his number, only to hear his ringtone from behind us.

He sighed.  “Honestly, I’d be more surprised if he’d taken it with him,” He darted back inside, dropping Pikachu’s crate next to the cot with a clatter (the Pokémon squeaked in indignation). “C’mon, let’s go down.” 

He’d left the room already. I stepped into the room and closed the glass door behind me. Before following him, I stopped at his phone, blinking with a notification.

1 missed call from ‘leaf’.

I smiled and then disappeared after Blue to go down to the garden.

I was stunned at how satisfying the conditions were. The temperature was edging on warmth and the feeble rays of sunlight were enough to leave the water in  the marble fountain shimmering. It had been nice at night, but the garden was even prettier during the day.

Blue bounded over to where Yellow and Red was, cawing out, “Hey!” 

Red’s head jerked up. Seeing us, he flashed a mellowed smile. 

I caught up in a jog, and Yellow beamed at me. “Getting some sun is always good!” she said cheerily. “We might do some more of this.”

I agreed, “Yeah it’s really nice out here. How come you haven’t done this before?”

“Ah…well,” Yellow became slightly reluctant. “Red wasn’t really feeling it before today.”

Red, who spent every day training outside. Who found out he wouldn’t be training outside anymore. This hospital, it was a prison for him. The garden was nothing but a mockery of the world that had been restrained from him. Coming out here was just been a sick reminder of what he was missing out on. 

The Champion of Kanto, slumped deplorably in a wheelchair. In alarm, my head whipped around to the few others milling about in the garden, expecting him to be recognised in a flurry. But when people looked at him, it was fleetingly, and only in sympathetic pity. They didn’t recognise him.

Well, to be fair, Red didn’t look much like himself anymore.

Cancer had colonised him like an infestation. I would hear a lot of AML this, AML that—it felt like I’d hear AML more than I heard Red’s name at times.

And once I’d heard AML enough times, prognosis manifested on his body. The flush in his skin had drained out, and no matter how much he slept, he was always tired. Everything seemed to pull a great amount of energy from him. He seemed to be less and less each time I saw him. 

It’s started already, I realised. The countdown of our happy days.

-x-

When Blue wasn’t there, we kept the shenanigans to a minimum. 

If Red wasn’t asleep, which he happened to be more often and often as time passed, we’d usually talk. Well, I would.

Red was a surprisingly good listener, which was largely because he was not much of a talker. I was very much of a talker. Do you think that makes us a good pair? I could spend hours chatting away to him, almost to myself, but never completely. It was nice having someone to talk to.

Yellow had told me that chatting would keep him entertained, but it had been meaningful for me too. It had been a really long time since I had someone I could be open with. 

I wonder if Red had thought it was nice to have someone to listen to.

Though I was there to keep company, I wasn’t anything worthwhile compared to Blue. He could keep talking for hours without a pause, and make us laugh for that long too. Without him, the atmosphere was more dismal, and conversation dwindled. It was hard to keep a conversation with someone you knew was losing the game.

I hope Red didn’t mind it, but I had asked him, numerous times, after glancing over his failing body, Red, does it hurt? He’d always make a strong shrug in response, pushing the question away effortlessly, as if the very notion offended him. It was enough to empower me, and I’d try again to say something to keep spirits up.

After I learned sign language, our conversations became a lot less one-sided. Of course, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out vocabulary, but Red would guide me through it until I’d nailed the gist of the word. Trying to communicate was slow, laborious, sure, but once we’d gotten there, the effort was well worth it.

It was nice to be able to understand Red. Learning sign language had to be the best thing I’d done.

Sometimes he’d ask his own questions.

「Leaf, why did you stop being a trainer?」

I sighed. 「You know, I’ve been thinking about that too, recently.」

He kept staring at me as he petted Pikachu in his lap. Togepi was taking a surprisingly sound nap and I couldn’t use it to distract him.

I realised by the fact that he hadn’t beat around the bush that he didn’t want an ambiguous answer and there wasn’t going to be a way for me to avoid it. But if he’d let me go on about nothing for hours, the least I could do was entertain his curiosity.

I cast my mind back. My thoughts often drifted to thinking about that time, but I blocked them before I could dwell on it. It hurt to think about, and it was pointless remorse. That’s what I always thought. But this time, I thought about what I didn’t want to think about, and I ignored the discomfort.

Beneath that, I grappled with my real feelings about Pokémon.

「I loved being a trainer.」That was a very honest truth, and I couldn’t fathom myself signing it. I paused, surprised by my own confession. I’d been lying for so long I’d fooled myself.「Playing with Pokémon at the lab was fun, but it made me so happy to have one of my own. It felt like I was so responsible for it, and I’d made a friend that would be with me for life. My first Pokémon marked the start of an adventure.」

I thought, sharply, that my first step of growing up was when I’d received my starter from Gramps. 

「But I guess my favourite part was the travelling.」I smiled at Red, embarrassed. 「I was never crazy about battling like you and Blue, but I didn’t want to be left out by not doing it, so I did the…」I curled my hands. “How do you say Gym Challenge?”

Red grinned. 「Gym Challenge.」

“Okay, thank you.” I tried again. 「I did the Gym Challenge. It wasn’t my number one passion or anything, but it was fun, and I was good at it.」 I hummed, trying to recall exactly how things unfolded. 「I’d been ahead of you two for a while.」Bulbasaur had been such a legendary pick that it was recurring MVP for the first three Gyms straight. 「But then, Team Rocket started causing a lot of trouble. Remember? You caught up with me in Celadon City and we found that Rocket Hideout together.」

Red nodded.

I continued. I was so glad to have known sign. I didn’t know if I could muster enough courage to speak my feelings out loud.「But after that, things started getting so hard. I didn’t know what was happening to me. I was always tired and even easy things became overwhelming. My weakness caught onto my Pokémon, or I must have started being a bad trainer… I lost to Sabrina first try. I shouldn’t have. Winning had stopped being easy and my motivation wore down with it. I slowly fell more and more behind you two. I thought it was because I wasn’t trying hard enough. And… and Team Rocket kept bothering me and that slowed me down too. Nothing was going right, and I’d cry a lot. I was struggling with Blaine when I found out from Gramps that Blue and you had become Champions in succession. So I decided…」

I pressed my lips together. The lump in my throat had snowballed and I was definitely about to cry.

My hands trembled as I signed, 「I just gave up.」

It sounded so silly. But little Leaf was such a repulsively ordinary girl. There hadn’t been anything valuable about her. FOMO pressured me into Pokémon battling, and for the first time, I showed aptitude for something.

My friends had been impressed and I remembered Gramps rubbing my head—I’m really proud of you, dear—and calling Mum to let her know she needed to send me a gift.

That flickering sensation in my chest, like I was blooming with warmth, I wanted to cling onto it. So I vowed to keep working hard, if only to feel loved. By others, and myself. Being a Pokémon trainer had inspired so much of my old confidence.

I exceeded Blue and Red and I thought that I had a knack for battling. That I had a lot of potential. Sometimes, I’d daydream cockily about being Champion, since it would give me a reason to never look down on myself again. If I’m Champion, I’ll really be worth something, I thought, so heedlessly.

When I first found my skill diminishing, I didn’t bat an eye, believing it was a blip that’d be overcome. The blip ended up swallowing my whole life. I saw all my so-called potential unravel before me, killing everything I’d been brave enough to believe about myself.

Without Pokémon battling, I was nothing. I had been good at it. And I hadn’t been good at anything else. 

I would never have made it to the Champion room, so I instead made my way home and made myself a pathetic bowl of ramen and made up my mind to never try at anything ever again. 

That was the end of my journey. When, one day, I dropped my team off at Gramps’ lab and never came to pick them up again. I didn’t even say goodbye to them, because I wouldn’t be able to face my Pokémon doing that.

It’d been so easy, unlike every battle I’d been in for the last few months. I thought it had to be a sign that surrendering was the right option. That my legacy was to quit.

And I thought I’d get over it.

Red was confused, his brows creased.「Why’d you give up?」

I was clawing at my hands too hard to keep signing. A masochistic giggle bubbled from me. “Because I suck.”

He just kept staring, and I wanted to beg him to stop. Please, please, please, please…stop perceiving me. 「What’s making you think that?」His typically impassive face, bizarrely, was straining. He looked upset.

“There’s nothing good about me.” I couldn’t hold them back anymore. My tears dribbled down my face, and I spat, raw and blubbery, “I can’t give you a single reason why I deserve to live. You and Blue actually accomplished something. I couldn’t even do the fucking Gym Challenge. Not a single thing in me impresses people.” The end of it rose into a wail and I had to shut my mouth.

As of late, Red had been unable to move from one place to another without a wheelchair, but he gripped the bedframe and started to shift himself. Pikachu bounced out of his lap as he struggled to his feet.

I should have gone to help him. But my useless self didn’t move, just sat there as he hobbled across the floor on his bare feet, swaying dangerously. He got across the room to where I was curled up in the armchair. Then he stuck out his arms and rested them on my shoulder.

As his last bit of strength failed him, his body gave and half-collapsed onto me. I grabbed him by the waist as he pressed into me like a dead weight, holding onto me with his arms around my neck.

Red was giving me a hug.

It was only several feet, but it must’ve been hard to walk that for him. How drastically he’d transformed.

I kept him stable with my hands, his waist smaller, shrivelled down and bony. I thought he was colder, too, but I think that was just me. 

“Ah, so irresponsible,” I chided tastelessly. I hauled the both of us up, and guided him back into his bed. He settled in again, out of breath from the almost non-existent exertion.

Pikachu had never climbed back onto Red. Instead, its interest had shifted to me, its tail swishing over the blankets. When it mewed with clemency, I exhaled and picked it up. Its wet nose pressed into my cheek and it began licking the tears off my face.

I scrunched my nose, clapping it lightly over the rump. “Silly bastard, you’re making me more wet.” 

「Leaf.」While I was clumsy with my hands, butchering words without speaking, Red’s hands glided effortlessly, a proficiency unmatchable. Inkless calligraphy. He signed my name with such devoted fluency. 「Maybe I owe you an apology.」

“What?” I stammered. Too serious, that was what Red was being. 

「I’m sorry that I don’t have the voice to tell you this.」He swallowed. 「So I hope this is acceptable. And I won’t be able to snap at you to shut up, so please don’t interrupt me.」

I nodded, my stomach flipping without any reason. I didn’t need to be scared.

「Leaf.」There it was again. So elegantly done. My name was prettiest in sign language. Or maybe just with Red’s hands.「You’re so stupid. Blue was right. Because you have to be an idiot to not know how impressive you actually are. What Blue and I’ve done? Maybe it was hard, but it was so trivial. In you, there is something that no one could amount to. The person you are, it can’t be emulated. Your sincerity and humanity makes me weak with envy. While we were caught up with the Gym Challenge, Blue and I never batted an eye to the problems Team Rocket was causing. But you would hurl aside your journey so you could stop and help other people. You must have saved so many lives. Being able to put others before you so instinctively is so cool of you.

「That day… I thought you were going to leave me.」That day. When I took off on Charizard and almost killed myself with surrender. 「And then you didn’t. I know I’m hard to hang around but you stayed by my side and managed to enjoy it too. You made my day. Every day.」He smiled.「I thought you were so amazing for that.」

“That’s because you’re my friend,” I said quickly. I don’t know why, but it was painful. Like my skin was being torn off.

「I am. But you’d do that for anyone in the world.」

“Because it’s the right thing to do.” I thought I was cutting in my counter.

「I don’t know a single person who’d do that.」He looked at me, too earnest.「You also helped us take Team Rocket down. And made international news. Doesn’t that count for anything? Aren’t you as much of a hero as we are?」

I was crying again, and I pushed Pikachu off so I wouldn’t get another slob of well-meaning saliva. “B-but the Gym Challenge…”

「What about the Gym Challenge? It has nothing to do with anything.」He was seething in hardened fury. 「Unlike Blue and I, you don’t need the Gym Challenge to be worth something. You’re already so much better than us. And you told me you gave up on it. You can’t say you couldn’t do it if you hadn’t tried.」

I started using sign language again, too choked up to speak.「What if I try hard enough, and still end up a failure?」

My biggest fear. If I really did put in a heartfelt endeavour, and came out short anyway. Losing was worse than retreating and abandoning everything. It was probably okay to pull an empty hand with cards still behind my back.  Right? But hadn’t I come to terms with that mindset? 

「That’s okay too.」he signed. 「Because you gave it your all. Don’t care about anything else.」Suddenly, he trembled like he was in overwhelming pain. 「Did you give up for good? You’re really never going to be a trainer again?」

I’d told myself that I’d get over it. And I almost had, snuffed out my desires for good, hollowed the last bit of ambition that I couldn’t shake off.

But in the past ten months, something started to prod my chest until I was aching. To venture outside so frequently, grow accustomed to routine, spend time with those who I was most familiar with and speak to those who were completely new. How dangerous! It ignited a tiny flame that I didn’t think I had anymore. I realised that I preferred my heart open than locked up. And that, if it was okay, I didn’t want to limit myself anymore.

I missed my freedom. And I missed my Pokémon.

I’d stopped being a trainer by choice. But Red never got an option. It would have been easier to maul his heart out of him.

A thought, abruptly, left me unable to breathe.

I was scared of trying because of my fear of failure. But Red, who had laboured every drop of his existence towards training, was experiencing a different kind of failure. And all his Champion glory had been razed to the ground, old dreams. He couldn’t train again, and with his myth torn apart, he was probably floundering for his own reason to live. Or maybe he just wanted to drown.

Revealing my thoughts must have stabbed him, a thousand tiny incisions that plunged him deeper under a water of despondency.

「I don’t know if I’ll be a trainer again. Maybe.」I lifted his hat from where it was hanging on the frame, the new one. One hand occupied, I dropped the signing. “But everything you’ve told me should apply to you too.”

His shoulders sank, head drooping.

“Screw being Champion. What’s more important is that you’re my best friend.” With a flick of my wrist, I dropped the hat onto Pikachu, the hat engulfing its yellow head. “I really love you, and I always will.”

Pikachu finally managed to jostle the hat off it. Picking it up with its teeth, it deftly scooted up Red to lop-sidedly balance the hat onto his head.

Red reached up to finger the brim. Despite his misery, he laughed at me. 「You really are so impressive.」

-x-

The last time Red left hospital was, technically, under illegal circumstances. Illegal, as in, it explicitly went against all of the rules of the hospital that had been thus far enforced and if we were ever to be caught, it would have gotten us into tremendous trouble. I would never risk my dignity like that. Except for Red.

New Year’s Eve. When it was much past visiting hours, we materialised into Red’s room (Alakazam is capable of some really miraculous things). If you think this was daring of us, our next feat might be shocking, since we Teleported Red with us out of the hospital. Yellow would have had a heart attack if she found out.

We settled on a quiet hill on the edge of Saffron City to wait for the annual fireworks.

“They’ve upped the scale this time,” Blue told us. “It’s gonna be so banging.” 

“Oh,” I trilled, “I’m so hyped…oh! Let’s take a selfie!” I cried. 

“Are you dumb? Take the photo when the fireworks actually go off, maybe? What are you even taking a photo of, otherwise?” He sighed as I hurriedly pulled out my phone.

I glanced at Red, who seemed content to stare at the starless sky. “Of us, obviously.” I put my arm around Red, making him grunt,  and then stretched my arm so the phone was positioned above us. Blue begrudgingly pulled himself over to the other side of Red.  “‘Kay, three, two, one, cheese!” 

The shutter click sounded and Blue immediately groaned. “I already know it’s a shit photo.”

I brought the phone up to my face as I squinted at the photo in the gallery app. It was a shit photo, doing none of us justice. “How do you know?”

“‘Cause you took it, Leaf! You always make me look like trash!”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” I proclaimed, passing the phone to Red. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

Red, having glanced over the photo, gave me a sorry look.

Blue peered over his shoulder. “We really do look like trash.”

“Maybe it’s because we all just got out of bed.” Blue and I were still in our pajamas and Red was in one of the outfits he rotated through in the hospital, an unflattering old T-shirt and sweatpants. “Aw, we should’ve worn our yukatas,” I lamented.

“That’s high-key doing too much,” objected Blue. “And we don’t even wear traditional.”

“Exactly! The only opportunities I have are for fireworks and coming-of-age day.” And I stayed home on my coming-of-age day.

“Don’t worry, you can wear traditional on my coming-of-age day.” He said in superficial reassurance.

We’d had a conversation along these lines before, and our minds drifted back to that time. Red was listening to us bicker, knowing all too well that his own coming-of-age day would never arrive. 

Blue muttered, “You know what? Traditional’s fucking dumb. And so is coming-of-age day. Why does the government decide when I’m a grown-up?” He glared at me. “You think that just ‘cause you’re already twenty, you’re a grown-up, Leaf? ‘Cause actually, you’re fucking not. Yellow’s right, you do get to decide when you grow up. And I say that the three of us grow up all together, right fucking now.”

If you’re thinking, can they do that? my reply would be, why not? Our childhoods were helplessly intertwined with each other. It made sense for our new eras of adulthood to do the same. It was our lives. Red’s life.  

“Hooray!” I cheered. “I can’t wait to grow up!” The joy in my voice was genuine. I threw my hand forward, hovering over Red’s lap. He flinched, glancing at me. “Okay, hands together. This is our coming-of-age.”

Blue’s hand clapped over mine. “Our coming-of-age.”

Red sniffled. His hand lifted to place over Blue’s, trembling so bad I could feel it through Blue. I deliberately kept myself from looking at his face. Red’s hand stilled, then he put a tight grip, squeezing Blue and my hand into a warm vice.

“Guys, let’s grow up together,” I declared, “to be the very best.”

Blue chuckled, a little ragged. “Yeah, like no one ever was.”

As we whooped and threw our hands into the air, it struck midnight, and the fireworks erupted beyond us, colouring the sky in vibrant bloom.

We had to be the most special people in the world. While most of Kanto had to celebrate their coming-of-age with shrine visits and ceremonies, our coming-of-age was marked with the prettiest sight of the annum, the fireworks of the New Year.

But I don’t think I’ll be able to watch them again without getting sad.

-x-

Red only got worse and worse. 

At some point, he became so sick he couldn’t even leave his bed. His skin developed this flaky pallor and his eyes had this sick sheen. A living corpse.

He never went through chemotherapy. There was some talk about it at the start, but the doctors ended up advising against it. After all, chemo was for patients who actually had a chance at surviving. Postponing his death wouldn’t benefit anyone except me, in that it meant I could stay with him a little longer. But no one cared what I thought.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain how I felt in those last few months.

Every time I looked at Red, I wanted to burst into tears. I usually went home and did. He scared me. He wasn’t Red anymore, just a hospital patient with terminal cancer.

He grew even more taciturn than he used to be. Maybe his mood dimmed, but it seemed that he was just too tired. He was asleep for more time than he wasn’t.

Ironically, he got the most visitors during that time. Notably, Gramps and Lance, who started showing up frequently despite knowing he wouldn’t be awake. A few times, the rest of the Elite Four visited. They were tight with words, close to being swamped with distraught. It was hard for any of us to stay normal. 

I would push the chair in the hospice room as close to the bed as I could and curl up there, watching the rise and fall of Red’s chest, which had less vigour in it than ever. 

Like the fool I was, I murmured once, as I had done habitually, “Does it hurt, Red?”

His hollowed eyes focussed on me vacantly, no, they hadn’t focussed at all. With a quiver, he closed them and nodded weakly.

I never asked again after that. I didn’t think I would be able to bear it.

Blue was the only one who got even jauntier. “Hey, hey, Red, you gotta hear this,” he’d crow, then delve into some totally nonsensical babble with a stupendous grin. He hardly faltered, his words a stream of relentless banter, always unnecessarily loud.

If I didn’t see him outside the hospital, I would’ve mistaken it to be genuine. When we got home, Blue’s expression would be so hauntingly agonised that I wouldn’t talk back when he told me not to bother him in his room. 

I sometimes wished I could replicate his facade, making the most out of time that was running out, but something like that wasn’t my style. I could only manage enough to not wallow in total anguish, and force a half-assed smile.  

I had a lot of time to think. Red was always falling in and out of a restless slumber and Yellow, sensing the atmosphere, left me alone. Often, awful thoughts and feelings would surface, but it was a useful time to come to terms with things. And to settle on decisions I wanted to make.

Seeing Red sleepily awake for one of those brief moments, I seized my chance to make him the first to be privy to what I’d resolved. “Red.”

His head rolled towards me, laggardly blinking. I swallowed, wanting to deliver my words smoothly.

“Red, I think… I’m going to go back to Pokémon training.”

He jolted. Then, against all odds, he snapped forward, struggling to haul himself up.

I cried out, and took hold of him. He leaned onto me, his weight daintier than ever. He pushed his head back to make sure I had my eyes on him.

「That’s great,」he signed, hands so frail I could barely make sense of it.「Our battle would have been great.」

A wistful glint was in his gaze. In a frenzy, I laid him back on the bed, each of my breaths carefully maintained. “I’m going to… get some fresh air,” I heaved, ready to escape.

As I strode to leave, I saw the door was ajar. I closed it behind me and saw Gramps standing outside. His mouth was pressed gravely. He’d heard everything.

I hardly closed the door fast enough. With a stuttering breath, I dove towards Gramps, starting to cry. 

“My, what’s wrong?” he murmured. “Was I mistaken for thinking it was good news, dear?”

I burrowed further into him so I could cry harder.

Nothing was ever good news, because nothing in this world was good, only horrible and out to plunder our joy. Even if I became a trainer again at a chance to recover myself, I couldn’t reclaim what I’d already relinquished. I would never be twelve years old again, preparing for a journey that would change my life and a Gym Challenge that had never seemed so exciting.

My first battle, which I walked into with a pygmy Bulbasaur I’d only just met, was against the Charmander that belonged to my very best friend. I didn’t even remember the last time I battled Red. Whatever had been good about Pokémon couldn’t coexist with the devastating realisation that I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it with Red again. 

One day, I wouldn’t even see him ever again.

After a while, I lifted my head from Gramps’ chest to breathe. The hand in my hair pulled away but I had rather liked how it felt.

“I’m getting old, Leaf,” he said, in weariness and vague delight. When I sniffed noisily, he pinched the hem of his lab coat to wipe my nose. “One day, I’m afraid you won’t need my lab coat anymore to cry your snot into.”

Bleary-eyed, I glared at him. Gramps proved to be staggeringly quaint at unreceptive times. “That’s not gonna happen for another five billion years.”

“Ho, is that so?” He was disapprovingly cheered.  “I suppose there’s nothing we can do about it.” His thumb rubbed my cheek. “I’m always on your side, Leaf. Are you really considering Pokémon again?”

“Maybe,” I said to his lab coat. “I-I mean… yeah, I want to.”

His chest deflated as he huffed. “Well, what did I say? Sometimes good things come out of bad things.”

I went stiff against him. “What does that mean? Are you telling me it was a good thing that Red’s dying?”

I stepped back quickly, bristling, to see Gramps in dismayed confusion. 

“Goodness, you must think your Gramps a hob.” He rubbed his own head now, brushing the sparse white hairs. “I hadn’t once tried to invalidate the magnitude of this situation, or Red’s pain, and least of all your grief. This is a horrible ordeal. And life will inevitably come at you with more horrible ordeals, sometimes when you can’t bear it. But you can’t let it beat you. You’ll never be able to fight again, you see? That’s why you just keep the ball rolling, even if you don’t have arms to push it and the ball is actually one of the Great Pyramids.

"You’re not appreciating the pain, and you’re not getting rid of it. But try to learn to grow from it, instead of letting it swallow you. That is what I really meant.” 

Good things come from bad things. Gramps’ stupid drivel.

Could I be brave enough to consider all of the things that wouldn’t have happened if not for Red’s cancer? We’d fallen apart in the last eight or so years, and we might never have reconnected. Blue, Red, and I, we probably wouldn’t have hung out again.

I wouldn’t have met so many new people—not Lance, or Yellow, or Karen—and I wouldn’t get the chance to learn all the things I had this past year. I wouldn’t have learned how much Red cared, how much everyone around me cared.

I was so certain that nothing would ever work out for me that I’d nearly sealed my destiny. I wouldn’t even have left the house if I wasn’t motivated to stay by Red’s side. 

“Good things come out of bad things,” I repeated, thinking about all the happy, silly memories I had made this year. “That’s a stupid thing to say,” I decided finally, resting my head on Gramps’ chest.

He chuckled, pulling me closer. “That’s alright too, dear.”

“Thanks for calling me dear, Gramps,” I whispered.

“You are fearfully childish, Leaf, and I am glad for it,” he said bemusedly. “Go wash all that snot off your face. I might go pop in and speak to Red in the meantime. I don’t get much of a chance to speak to him alone.” He smirked, thoroughly affectionate. “Ha! That rascal’s no better than Blue when it comes to paying me attention. Instead of picking a fight with poor Gramps, though, he tunes out unless I use the magic buzz word: Pokémon. I’ll find a way to make him listen.” His eyebrows knotted. “You think Red would like to be called dear?”

I smeared the snot over my arm, eyes stinging from the tears. “It’s worth a shot,” I croaked. “Maybe it’ll be a new magic buzz word?”

“Ah, perchance. I’ll give it a go,” he said. “Why don’t you go home a bit early tonight? You look like you could use some rest. I’m happy to keep Red company until visiting hours close.”

I really hadn’t been getting much sleep recently, and the exhaustion had been quickly piling up. It must have shown on my face.

Concern overflowing, Gramps nagged until I agreed to return home: “Recover and get your energy back. You can always spend time with Red tomorrow.”

It was the morning after that the hospital called to tell us that Red had died. 

I woke to knocking on my door, and knew it instantly. After all, Blue never knocked.

As if I was in a trance, I lifted from my bed easily, almost weightless as I crossed the room. I felt none of the cold of the brass as I turned the door knob. 

Blue’s face had been cleaved apart by something terrifying, and he inched out his words with calamitous drear.

“What a bastard, beats me to everything, even death.” The end of it buckled and he hacked with force, something alien and dangerous overwhelming him. His body quaked, and what he spoke next was garbled with an unfamiliar squall of torment. “Th-that’s a bastard thing to do, isn’t it?” 

“You’re crying?”

Standing in the frame, Blue was heaving in erratic and seizing breaths. Bizarre, distorted cries escaped him without any tears. Like he was dying.

He was raspy and foreign when he wheezed out, “Yeah. I’m crying and being pathetic. It’s okay to be pathetic sometimes, right? Sometimes I’ve gotta be pathetic before I can be strong?” 

We went to the hospital, where Gramps was already waiting. He must have been phoned as well. He spoke to us measuredly but his shirt was buttoned lop-sided and he looked more tired and old than ever.

It skirted visiting hours, but, head bowed, Yellow unlocked the hospital for us. Special circumstances, you know. If I wasn’t flanked by Blue and Gramps, I would’ve bolted away like I wanted to. I didn’t want proof that Red was gone. I didn’t want to know anything at all. My outgrown nails dug into the flesh on my arm as I mustered a new strength for every step I took. I was trying to appreciate it. After all, this was my last special circumstance.

Red’s body was the colour of ash. He passed away early in the morning, so it hadn’t been too long, but there wouldn’t have been anyone mistaking him as asleep. He was uncannily relaxed, muscles yielding to nothing and his cracked lips parted. So very dead.

Yellow told us he’d passed peacefully, but it seemed as though he’d only come to peace after dying. After fighting for so long, he could finally rest. His tranquility made me question if it had been ethical to even keep him alive. I hadn’t wanted to touch his body, but my hand brushed him accidentally.

I reeled back, wanting to scream. He was way too cold.

Red had died in the frigidity of spring, a whole nineteen months after he was diagnosed. Against the odds, he outlived all expectations. Even the hospital had been surprised, since it defied every angle of prognosis. According to Yellow, some patients could challenge fatality with sheer grit.

There must have been a very good reason that made him want to keep living, she’d said.

Pikachu undid its own crate somehow. Gramps had looked at me disapprovingly when he saw me carrying the pet carrier, but I didn’t have the heart to leave it behind. It was so familiar with its routine of being scooped into the crate and taken to the hospital that it had started to sit in it before I asked it to. I walked downstairs that morning to find it fluffed up and grooming itself as it waited obediently in its crate. Waiting to go meet Red, like it had been doing all these months.

The sight made Blue keel over with a wail, and my resolve crumbled wholly. 

It must have gotten a little too familiar with the pet carrier. I’d set the crate down in the corner of Red’s room without anticipating that Pikachu had learned to outsmart the lock at some point. We hadn’t noticed it break out until I heard Yellow grunt and saw Pikachu hoist itself over her head. Scrambling for grip, it peered down at the bed where Red lay.

Its nose twitched enquiringly, then I watched as its ears drooped, notoriously slow. 

With a leap, Pikachu sprang onto the bed, giving Red’s leg a firm whack with its tail. Little claws hooked into the thin clothes as Pikachu pawed at him with a whine, pleading to get its trainer’s attention. 

Mercilessly, Red didn’t stir. 

Pikachu became more stubborn. It growled, butting into him with a fierce thrust of its head. The strength jerked Red’s body up, before it flopped back down onto the bed with the same force.

The limpness of it must have spooked Pikachu, and I pulled it away before it could sink its teeth into Red. Its furry body was quivering in my arms. A zap of electricity from it made my grasp loosen and it jumped back onto the bed. It crawled slowly to nestle in the crook of Red’s arm and began wailing. 

Even Pikachu knew. That Red was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. It was maybe the most unbearable thing I had ever been made to watch, a Pokémon crying for its trainer.

Then, it got worse when I didn’t think it could. 

For once in its life, Togepi woke up late. It had been forgotten about until cream spikes popped out from behind the pillow and it waddled into view. Seeing all of us gathered around the bed, it chirped a delighted hello.

In glee, it prodded Red, keen to show him all the company they had today, then it squealed louder, since Red didn’t seem to hear it the first time. It scaled the enormous height that was Red’s arm to pound on his chest more determinedly. To no response, Togepi fell back, buoyed by its shell, gazing at him curiously.

The room was pin-drop silent.

Then, a crash from behind us. I screamed as the vase on the set of drawers fell over by itself. Then, a flower was whisked up from the rest of the spray and shards of glass and floated over, spinning topsy-turvy in the air where it could have reasonably been within Red’s range of sight.

With a further attempt at misbehaviour, Togepi’s Psychic pulls the flower into its arms, and its beady eyes stared down at Red as it took a chomp from the petals. Daring him to tell it off. Wanting him to at least look at it. Not understanding anything at all.

Togepi’s attempt to get Red’s attention made Pikachu fall quiet, ears flattening. Then, with a kind of maturity I would never have expected from it, Pikachu’s tail stretched out and scooped Togepi closer. A subsequent few licks over its head distracted the baby Pokémon. It snuggled into Pikachu’s fur, nibbling on the flower and contemplating what could possibly be going on right now. 

Everything in the world had to be horrible.

While Blue cried nineteen months worth of tears and Gramps tried to find the good things that came out of the bad things, I left to go on a walk. My gait was perfect. It was easy to focus on keeping my strides even and easy to not focus on anything else. 

I wandered until I found myself in the garden, finding it strange as I had first found it when I came to the hospital. If I had the power to, I would make all of the flowers wilt and the grass melt into the soil and break the stupid bubbling fountain. It was hypocritical to foster life in this place, where only death and misfortune was begotten. 

The deep pit that was always in my stomach broke like floodgates opening, and it felt as though a torrent of water had waterfalled out of me.

It was akin to relief, the lightness I felt. Light enough that I could shatter into nothingness, evaporate into the pale air.

Perhaps it wasn’t that I felt light, but that I couldn’t feel anything else. Reality itself seemed suspended in a strange, jelly-like substance, dividing me from immersion. I had never felt so helpless in my life, as if I was fictitious and nothing mattered.

It wasn’t until I got home and saw Pikachu curled up against Red’s old cap that it really hit.

A toppling sensation slammed me and I let out a low howl, voice deformed with debilitating anguish. I wanted to be wrung clean of it, not only this sickening feeling but also every emotion that I had ever dared to let out. Swaying, I hauled myself up the stairs and forced myself into my bed.

Never would I ever leave the room again, I thought, determined to summon the seclusion of an eremite, except instead of devoting all my time to praying I would cry myself to death. 

But life wasn’t the bleak requiem I wanted it to be. 

Two mornings later, after Red had been buried, Lance held a press conference. It was a two hour long process that was broadcast live outside the Indigo Plateau. The crowd was enormous. People had questions. Their Champion hadn’t been seen for the better part of twelve months. Lance was the one—or took it upon himself—to deliver the announcement that would transform Kanto.

Strangely enough, or it felt that way, Lance also invited Blue and I to speak. I didn't have much experience with publicity, so I was nervous. My delivery ended up okay, although my little speech was dwarfed by Blue and Lance’s eloquence.

Afterwards, we all went to rest in the Indigo Plateau’s break room, where Blue silently made coffee for us. 

“You’re a good speaker,” I said.

Pulling his tie loose, Lance sighed deeply. He was in a suit, making him look even more solemn than usual. “It comes with practice,” he replied, flawlessly humble. “Though practice didn’t make today easier.”

I made a non-committal hum. The satin black dress I was wearing was too tight around the bodice and I was getting uncomfortable. I hadn’t been in anything so formal for years. From that morning, I’d already tripped four or so times, and the heels I was in were teeny.

“How’s the Elite Four doing?”

“I’ve given them indefinite leave.”

“What about you? You’re going to run the Plateau by yourself?”

He nodded, smiling ruefully. “I’ll manage. I always do.”

We heard the drone of the coffee machine as it rumbled to life, Blue working away with deliberate focus. His eulogy, imbued with a light mischief that made him come off as helplessly suave, was delivered with a confidence designed to fool all of Kanto.

The real Blue, who hadn’t eaten since Red had died, was here in the break room, voiceless with grief and crushed like cinnamon. 

In contrast to the person I’d seen in the hospital, merry and carefree, Blue was just depressing. His voice was always hoarse, raw from crying (screaming) into his pillow every night and he was too volatile, prone to breaking down from any minor thing. There was so little of the autonomy that he usually showed. He didn’t do much at all, didn’t brush his teeth and didn’t go outside and didn’t like falling asleep. 

I was envious of the way he mourned, like he was preparing himself for his own casket. Though I felt I could implode with grief, I couldn’t emulate him. I continued to brush my teeth and go outside and I still liked sleeping. Normalcy was comforting. But I couldn’t find joy in it. No matter how much I ate, I was always empty, a kind of hollowness as if I had my organs scraped out. 

There’s something pathetic about it. Grief leaves me acting in such lame ways. I walk out of my room with my eyes closed so I won’t have to see the attic stairs on the other side of the corridor. I sit on the floor of my room and imagine Red across from me doing nothing at all except being by my side. I keep going back to the same cake shop in Pewter, and I buy a different flavour of macaron each time, but most often matcha and crème brûlée. I am still doing these things. It’s child-like, isn’t it? 

But I’ve realised that I’ve gotten really good at getting around the house in the dark and how soft the carpet in my room actually is and that macarons are quite definitely the most delectable thing ever. Which makes me wonder if there could be something about being child-like that makes it equally valuable to being mature. 

But I hadn’t had time to think about all of this back in the breakroom, so I asked Lance, “What’s it like being an adult?” 

He raised his head with a twitch of surprise, probably because it was a silly thing to ask. Exhaling, he seemed to mull over the question solemnly, before he deflated, face twisting with a comical grimace I didn’t think him capable of.

“Honestly? It’s an acting career.” That excellent eye contact of his broke. “You never know what you’re doing, just make it up as you go and hope it works out. And that’s all you can do. Because if you don’t do anything, it definitely won’t work out. It’s… shitty sometimes.”

I’m not sure what had me taken aback more, the truth about maturity or that Lance could swear. “But you seemed so on top of it.”

Lance’s head lowered, embarrassed. “I’ve no idea how to manage a League without… a Champion. Or manage anything else for that matter. Seriously, it’s all an act,” he said, slipping his blazer off to drape over his arm. His shirt was pristine white, but it hadn’t been ironed. “I’m not that good. I floundered through Red’s death.”

I stared at the shirt’s deep-set wrinkles. Lance really hasn’t noticed something like that? “Were you close with Red?”

“Close isn’t the exact term,” he said. “I never got such an opportunity and it’s a shame. Although he is many years my junior, Red was one of the most extraordinary persons in my life.”

Blue set down two cups of coffee on the counter we were standing by. Nothing for himself. He looked unfocused, but vaguely attentive towards Lance.

Lance continued with dignity, and a contained dejection. “It was an honour. Not only to serve him, work under him, but since the moment I met him. The day I lost the battle to him, that itself was an honour, and handing the throne to him was also an honour.”

He parted his mouth, and it was the first time I thought he had been talking so slow because it was hard to speak.

He swallowed, sounding weaker. “Kanto has lost a legend. This is a loss we may never recover.”

With a murmur of thanks to Blue he lifted his cup from the counter to take a sip of the coffee, and his eyes widened.

“You used almond milk?” he asked, faintly humoured.

Blue, worn out with agony, didn’t say anything, but stuck his tongue out mirthlessly. 

The ensuing conversation was falling off and it occurred to me that Lance looked just as tired as Blue. I hurriedly initiated my goodbyes, but Lance insisted on walking us to the gates.

“Well, see you, Lance,” I said.

“Yeah, see ya.”

So rough and brusque. His last fragments of chivalry had already been eroded. He was running on nothing but a dragon-tamer’s willpower and a cup of almond-milk-coffee. He grunted, rubbing his temples, before recalling what he’d been meaning to bring up.

“Oh, and I hope the next time I run into you will be inside the Indigo Plateau.” Fatigue couldn’t overcome his signature charismatic smile. “Congratulations on your decision.”

Mostly vacant, Lance’s implications had a delayed registration in Blue. Once it clicked for him, his jaw fell slack. Wired with shock, he eyed me with an unbelieving jolt.

I flushed. Gramps must have told Lance about it. “We’ll see.”

The gates barely closed behind us before Blue lost his patience. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. “You’re becoming a trainer again?!” He almost tripped over the stairs we were descending.

“Careful, silly. Yeah, I think so.”

He took a daring leap, passing over the last four steps to land on the grass. The lack of food in his system really shone through—Blue failed to steady himself on his feet and toppled over. 

I cried out and dashed down the rest of the stairs to help him up. He sat up on the grass, grinning earnestly. His new black trousers had been scuffed over the knees. “I’m so glad,” he said. “I’m so fucking glad.”

After much begging, Blue convinced me to fly on Aerodactyl with him. Its skin was far less scaly than I’d judged it to be. I held onto Blue tight though, especially nervous about Aerodactyl’s instincts in the instance it got a little too hungry. 

Being post-formalities and all, Blue ruffled through his own hair, undoing the effects of the gel I’d smoothed through in the morning, until his hair resembled its usual unkempt self.

“Oh, by the way,” he said, suddenly feeling much more vocal than what I’d been seeing in the last couple of days, “The Battle Tree people got back to me, asking for confirmation… guess I never responded.”

“Why’d it take them so long to reach out?” I asked, eager to clip my bangs back as soon as I got home.

“Haven’t you seen the news? Shit’s been going like hyper apocalyptic in Alola lately.” Deciding it fitting, he shrugged his suit off. Mid-air.

I helped pull it off him so he could put both hands back on Aerodactyl as soon as possible. “Huh. You’re still going?”

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna go by myself.”

I could already see Pallet Town under us. I always forgot how close the Plateau was to home. After months dedicated to journeying the region, the final destination circled you back to the very start. That was funny.

“You could take someone with you,” I said, as Aerodactyl started to fly lower and lower. “How about Lance?”

He’d softened slowly, but let out a harsh groan at Lance’s name. “Do you want me to kill myself?”

“But he’s strong. Who else could possibly host alongside you?”

We landed in front of our house with a dull thud, and Blue turned his head to gaze at me properly. “Come to Alola with me, Leaf.”

Things have just been so busy since then. Like how we had to sort out Red’s will. Although it seemed as if it was composed in conjunction with a lawyer, the will was only on one page, and simple in writing.

It dictated a few things, both the monetary and his assets, but the most important thing it dictated was his Pokémon.

Pikachu was to be released into Viridian Forest, to live alongside Chuchu. His other Pokémon were to stay at Gramps’ lab until a suitable trainer appeared to adopt them. And little Togepi was to receive training to become a therapy Pokémon for Viridian Hospital. I hope it brings as much joy to someone else as much as it had for me, when I thought it’d never be okay again. 

The will ended at the bottom of the page, with one last sentence: Any unmentioned assets and properties are to be bequeathed to the Oak family. Thank you, Blue and Leaf, for everything.

We had a tiny funeral, with less than ten people, but last week, Kanto came together to hold a vigil.

All over the region, hundreds of thousands of candles were lit in commemoration of our national hero. Television livestreamed the event within Saffron City—a sea of fire swept through the streets.

It would be impossible for Red to lose his way to the afterlife because it was too dark.

We watched from home, lighting our own candles. I painted my candle, hoping he might recognise the red cap and think of me again. 

I wish Red could have seen the vigil. Every candle was one person who was mourning. And we had enough candles to imitate a small sunrise.

Red was loved and respected so much more than he could ever have fathomed.

In fact, Kanto changed the legal age of adulthood. In effect from next year, people would celebrate coming-of-age at eighteen, in homage to their resting Champion, who never made it to twenty years old.

Mum called after a long time, and she didn’t hurry to hang up like she usually did. I had missed her voice. The conversation was a lot less one-sided than it usually was, because I thought she might appreciate me speaking up more.

I suddenly worked up the courage to ask her to come home to me. She promised she would, as soon as work eased up. I didn’t ask her how soon that would be.

Before she ended the call, she remarked, warmly, “You really sound grown up, Leaf, honey.”

Ah… that felt like a whole epiphany, but I guess I have grown up, without realising it. And it doesn’t feel remotely as horrifying as I thought it would. Yellow was right, I was silly to be afraid of it. Yeah, I can’t go back now. But that’s kind of nice. I might lose every little thing I own but I’ll never lose my maturity.

To be honest, there are lots of good things about growing up.

I’ve learned a lot about myself, and also the person I would like to be. I don’t want to be held back anymore. Not by my feelings or what I judge to be my capacity. My failures don’t make me pathetic, because even if it amounts to nothing, my best shot matters. Just because I took one. In growing up, I was able to challenge the person I’d mistaken myself as.

I’m not gonna let myself think that things won’t work out for me. I don’t want to think like that anymore. 

Now that I don’t have to go to the hospital every day, I’ve been trying to sleep in, but it hasn’t been working—I keep waking up. I must’ve made one hell of a habit.

It’s insane to envision it, but my life has taken so many dramatic turns since last year. And in such good ways.

I’m outside most days now. Sometimes because being alone in my room makes me sad about Red, but mostly because I love being outside. Kanto’s changed a lot in the last ten years, so there’s lots of new things for me to explore, even if I do miss the Game Corner. I see a lot more people and Pokémon on the streets these days.

I meet Yellow from time to time, since her cottage in Viridian Forest isn’t too far, and if I’m lucky, I’ll get to say hi to Pikachu and Chuchu. Now with a girlfriend, the little bastard’s gotten a lot more cocky.

The best thing about growing up is that when I visited the lab and went to look at the isolated row of Poké Balls at the back of the storage room, I didn’t turn back and walk away. 

I had a few nervous thoughts (is there a better way to do this? Will they hate me? Are they even gonna recognise me?), but I shouldn’t have feared. My Pokémon, a little wizened by time, were so happy to see me. 

I only have Red to thank for such a gift.

And all the other gifts he has given me. What type of woman would I be now if not for him? While Kanto knows him as a myth and a saviour, to me, to me, he’s my very best friend. And he’s not here now, but it won’t change that fact. He’s still my best friend, on top of being the coolest person in the world.

But I guess being a legend of a Pokémon trainer doesn’t make you invincible. Red could beat everything, except his cancer. 

I’m trying to be careful to not fall into dangerous thoughts, but I’m losing.

Whenever I go to bed, a thousand what ifs swarm my head. I want to imagine that none of this ever happened. I want for Red to conjure every miracle and survive. If only, if only we were all little kids and best friends and we stayed best friends and we grew up together and nothing went wrong. That is the happy ending I fantasise about continuously.

On worse days, I blame everything on myself and war with myself over why I couldn’t have been a better friend. Why I couldn’t try harder. 

Either way, it doesn’t matter. Red is really gone for good and I didn’t put in more effort and that’s just the way it is. I’ll just have to take it lying down. 

I’ll just have to take it lying down but, oh, I will never stop being bitter about it. I’m probably not going to ever get over Red dying. These ugly feelings that swallow me like a deluge, they might never go away. I’m going to stay mad at this stupid, unfair world, ruthless in its cruelties.

And that’s all I can do. I’m just going to have to live on. With a terrorising stone pulverising my chest, I’m just going to have to live on. 

I’m sorry, I can’t write any more about this. This much has been hard enough as it is. I’m a little sick of everything right now, always either angry or bawling. I guess it’ll numb out over time. Not that I believe it, but I guess it will. And it might get easier to talk about it. But it’s turning into too much of a trial to try to describe my feelings.

I wish I didn’t have any feelings at all. All of the joy I’ve ever felt couldn’t compensate for whatever sickening, all-consuming mental assault I’m going through. 

I’m leaving for Alola with Blue next month to attend the opening of the Battle Tree.

Not that either of us are ready. I was almost sure that I’d forgotten everything about Pokémon training, but I gave a battle a spin and my Pokémon at least definitely still have the knack for it. It was also successful in luring Blue out of the house, which he hasn’t really done lately. If I keep asking him to battle me, maybe he’ll get the sunlight he needs to lift his spirits a bit.

Arceus, I hadn't had a battle with Blue in ages. I’m trying to figure out if I keep training whether I’ll be able to win against him and claim my former position of the better Oak child. Might ask Gramps for some tips. I’ll need all the advice I can get if I’m going to a battle facility.

 The photos are making Alola out to be beautiful. If we feel up to it by the time our flight rolls around, maybe we’ll go do some sightseeing. 

After writing all of this up, I have to say that I found it quite enjoyable. Gramps mentioned making an archive of recent events unseriously, but I did it and it wasn’t a bad idea at all. I think I’ll record my time in Alola as well. In  MP4, though. I’ve been at my laptop for days typing all of this up and I think I’ve developed the keyboard equivalent of carpal tunnel.

Honestly, it’s not a perfect account of things unfolding. I wrote this to remember, but I liked remembering the happier things than the sadder ones, so there’s much that’s been omitted. It’s going to be trying to find actual value in this, but maybe someone will be able to learn something from all of the things I had learned myself.

I talk a lot, and my writing seems to take after it; if I could keep this going forever, I would. I’m almost inclined to think that if I let myself continue writing, I won’t have to put an end to this story of mine, and I won’t have to put an end to Red for real. But that’s not right to believe. While this is a manifestation of my love and growth, my reality yet awaits me. And I am allowed to hold onto my memories of Red for as long as I need to. I wonder, as time passes, like it rebelliously does, what other ways I’ll be able to grow?

With that, it’s time to end this here. It’s way late right now and I’ve been yawning for the past hour. 

Thank you for reading this. Please live your life to the fullest.

Leaf