The Epilogues [New Year's Extravaganza]
Jan 4, 2020 17:26:32 GMT
Post by girl-like-substance on Jan 4, 2020 17:26:32 GMT
This is for Dramatic Melody, who asked for a fic that showed how a meeting between Wally and Hop might play out. Naturally, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to investigate two nervous rivals to unstoppable victory machines, so here we are. No content warnings to speak of, so let's get started!
“Thanks, Mr J―”
“Um, no need for that! Really, Wally’s, uh, Wally’s fine.”
Rei smiles, hugging her zigzagoon to her chest. He wriggles a little and hangs there, tongue lolling. Happy, but tired. All the confirmation that Wally needs that this was a good session.
“Thanks, Wally,” she says. “What do I owe you?”
He shakes his head.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” he tells her. “First one’s on me. Give me a call if you want to continue, okay?”
“Sure! Goodbye!”
He keeps an eye on her as she heads back down the slope towards the woods, her zigzagoon trotting along at her heels. She should be fine; the trainer trails are usually pretty safe. And she has her pokémon, so. You know.
At his side, Cadoc lifts his chin and spreads his facial spines.
“I know,” says Wally, glancing at him. “But you know, I have to make sure.”
He twitches his crest back and forth, the gallade equivalent of a shrug, and stalks off a few paces down the hill. Opposite direction to Rei.
“What, all that training not enough for you?”
Cadoc glances back over his shoulder, his facial spines flicking into a different position. Everyone thinks gallade are telepaths, but really they can only receive feelings and impressions; they communicate solely with movements of crest and spines. They say it takes a lifetime to learn how to read them, but Wally’s pretty sure that that’s an exaggeration, because right now he knows with absolute certainty that Cadoc’s saying come on.
“All right,” he says. “Let’s go for a walk.”
He grabs his bag and follows Cadoc down the hillside, back into the woods where the leaves filter the bite out of the harsh August sunlight. It’s been a beautiful summer, though Wally always looks forward to winter. Less in the air to agitate his asthma, and of course it’s when Hoenn’s pro battling season starts. Nothing against trainer tutoring – it’s good work, and Wally’s always happy to help out rookies – but his heart really does belong to the fight. Cadoc’s, too, really.
All that’s assuming they’re even here for this season. There’s that email waiting at home, watching the time ticking down to the deadline for responding. But no, no, they’ll be here. Wally has a rival to beat, after all. And it’s Hoenn! How could they leave all this behind?
“Just a couple more months,” says Wally, patting Cadoc on the rearward side of his chest horn. “We’ll be back in the arena soon. Another shot at Sapphire, huh?”
Cadoc’s spines fold back flat along his skull. A moment later, the drone of a nearby gadfly cuts off abruptly as it fractures under a pop of psychic pressure.
“Yeah, I know what you mean! This time we’ll beat her.”
The two of them walk on a while in companionable silence. Rei was the last for today, and it’s not like Wally’s got anywhere to be. On an afternoon like this, there’s no place better than the forested slopes of Mount Chimney, strolling along with your partner at your side and a tune in the air―
Wait. Where is that whistling coming from? Whoever it is, they’re absolutely terrible at it.
Wally looks at Cadoc, who lifts a slender hand and points off to the left. A quick smile of thanks – Cadoc doesn’t really need words – and the two of them are off, looping back uphill towards the source of the whistling.
“Hello?”
It’s a man, a boy really, a few years Wally’s junior. Dark skin, blue jacket that looks far too heavy for a Hoenn summer. And a tall, bulky-looking sheep pokémon at his side, though not any species Wally’s ever seen before.
“Hello,” says the guy. He gets the word right, but his accent is absolutely atrocious. “Uh, um, I be Hop. My frien― part― uh, my pokémon, he be Bryn.”
Okay. Vocab’s not so hot either, then. But it’s okay, Wally can help, because it so happens that a good grasp of Galish goes a long way when you’re travelling abroad for tournaments. And when you want to talk to people on the internet. But definitely mostly for the first thing.
“Hi. Wally.” Wally lifts a hand in greeting. “It’s okay, I speak some Galish.”
“Oh. Cheers.” Hop smiles gratefully. “Third gen problems, eh. I never paid much attention to the language as a kid. Mum’s always saying my Hoennic’s a right disgrace.”
This is … obviously Galish Galish, then, not American Galish. It’s not the kind Wally’s most familiar with, but he’s willing to try.
“You’re from Hoenn?” he asks.
“Kind of? On my mum’s side. See, actually―”
Bryn bumps his snout against Hop’s hand in a remember the point kind of way that brings a smile to Wally’s face. Cadoc is just the same. Whenever Wally’s got his head full of an upcoming match, Cadoc’s right there to remind him that he still needs to cook if they’re going to eat at a reasonable hour.
“Oh, right!” Hop snaps his fingers. “Yeah, uh, funny story, mate, we’re actually kinda, uh, lost.” Sheepish grin. “You wouldn’t know happen to know how to get back to town, would you?”
“Um, sure.” Wally glances at Cadoc, who twitches his crest: it’s true, it’s probably time to head back. “I was on my way home anyway. Come on, Fallarbor’s back this way.”
“Thanks!” Hop pats Bryn, who starts off at a trot, matching Cadoc’s pace; Cadoc gives him a dark look and tries to pull ahead, but Bryn just bleats happily and catches up again. “Really appreciate it, mate. This is so embarrassing. I’m meant to be the one who’s good at directions, you know? Of my brother and me, I mean. He’s proper bad, can hardly find his way out of bed in the morning.”
It takes Wally a few moments of walking and thinking to figure out what he’s saying; Hop talks fast and uses words in unfamiliar ways.
“Right,” he says, ducking under a branch. “Well, I’m happy to help.” A brief pause. He should say something else, right? Nobody talks as fast as Hop unless they’re nervous. Wally knows what that’s like, though his are usually the quiet, stammery sort of nerves. “So what brings you to Hoenn?”
“Oh.” Hop scratches the back of his head. “I guess I’m just reconnecting with my roots. And, uh, not gonna lie, last time I went to Uganda to see Dad’s peeps, they all kept telling me I should eat more, dress better and learn the language, so I figured I’d try my luck with the other side of the family.”
Peeps? Wally ponders the word for a moment, but it eludes him. No matter. He thinks he gets the gist of it.
“I see,” he says. “And, um, how has that been?”
“I dunno,” admits Hop. “Honestly, I haven’t spent much time with them. Wanted to get a bit of a feel for the place. I’m a trainer, right, and I was never much good at figuring out my team. So many pokémon around here I wanna get the measure of.”
One of Wally’s favourite topics: training in Hoenn. He has to smile.
“Yeah, Hoenn’s a great place for training,” he says. “I’m a trainer too. I do tutoring for the, ah, the rookies, I think you say?” Damn it. “Sorry, I haven’t spoken Galish in a while.”
“All fine, mate. Your Galish is way better than my Hoennic.” Hop laughs. “Nice to meet another trainer my own age, though!” His own age? Huh. Hop looks about eighteen to Wally, but maybe his guess is off. “I know, we were all kids once, but like, I feel bad challenging eleven-year-olds to battles and just, y’know, completely mullering them.”
Up ahead, Bryn nudges Cadoc in the same friendly way he did Hop a little earlier; Cadoc shudders delicately and stalks off through the trees. Bryn stares after him for a moment, then bleats vacantly and bounds off in pursuit.
“Sorry,” says Wally nervously. “Cadoc’s very …” How do you say ‘fastidious’ in Galish? “Tidy.” No. That’s not it. “Particular.” No, not that either. But he’s tried twice and that’s probably enough; any more would be weird. “Anyway, there is a professional circuit here. You won’t find many trainers out of their teens just wandering around.”
“Nah, mate, I know.” Hop smiles ruefully. “I’m making a go of the pro thing at home, too. I just …” He sighs. “Nah. Never mind.”
Bryn freezes for a moment, his heavy shoulders aglow with the sunlight making its way down between the trees. Then he turns and trots quickly up the slope to bleat and press his head into his partner’s hand.
“Aw.” Hop rubs his muzzle, gives him a quick pat on what Wally assumes is his neck, though the fluff makes it hard to tell. “Kind of you, but I’m fine. Go on, now.”
But Bryn is going nowhere; he tosses his head and falls into step beside Hop. Picks up his hooves high as he moves, Wally notices. Like a little horse. It’s very sweet.
Also, there’s something going on. Should he ask about it? Probably not; he just met the guy. But also, what would he want if he was alone in Galar? Wally can’t decide. Just like he can’t decide what to do about the email. And now this choice at least is out of his hands, because Hop’s just carrying on talking.
“Well, anyway, we have this tournament system over there,” he’s saying, which, Wally honestly doesn’t see the connection, but he’s glad he doesn’t have to decide what to do now. “It’s all super corporate, not the same charm as having an Elite Four, but I dunno, it’s got better since they broke up Macro.”
“Yeah, I think I remember that.” It was on all the news sites. But Wally has to admit, the break-up of a big Galish megacorp wasn’t really the most interesting thing his phone had to show him that morning as he poked it over cereal and coffee. “Here’s the path,” he announces redundantly, as the broken leaves and dry earth give way to packed earth and dusty rocks. “This is the one that comes out near the Pokémon Core. Centre,” he corrects, as Cadoc shoots him a look. “Pokémon Centre.”
“Nice one!” says Hop. “Hey, Bryn, how come we couldn’t find it? We were like five minutes away.”
Bryn turns his snout up and bleats noncommittally.
“It’s, um, easy to get turned around in the woods,” says Wally kindly, though privately he has no idea how anyone gets lost around here when all you have to do is go downhill to end up back on one path or another.
“Yeah, maybe,” says Hop. “Cheers anyway.”
They walk on for a little while in silence, the only sound the crunching of boots and hooves on the dirt. Cadoc – still taking point up ahead – makes no noise at all, passing over the path so lightly that he might as well be gliding.
Is it awkward? Wally can’t tell. He feels awkward, but he doesn’t know if Hop does. Maybe he should say something. But what?
“Um, so,” he begins, “if you’re in the Wyndon tournaments, I guess you’ve met the Champion, huh?”
Hop’s shoulders stiffen slightly.
“Glory?” he asks. “Uh, that’s what we call her, ’cause she always wins. Yeah, actually. We went on our journey together.”
Oh dear. Wally knows that look. Very well, in fact. He hasn’t beaten Sapphire once in the past fifteen years; he’s willing to bet that Hop’s got a similar track record with Gloria. Glory. Whatever. Anyway, Wally needs to salvage this, right now.
“Is it true that people in Galar can understand what she’s saying?” he asks, and is relieved to see Hop smile.
“Yeah, she’s proper South Wales. ’S all a bit Gavin and Stacey. Or at least that’s the joke all the tabloids made, innit.”
“Gavin and who?”
“Oh. Uh, Galish TV joke, sorry. Doesn’t even make much sense, it’s not like she’s from Barry or anything.” Hop sighs. “But yeah. She always wins, is the main thing. Beat me every time we battled on our journey. And every time I get to the end of the Championship tournament. And, uh, every other time, too. She gets this smile on her face, like she’s―”
“―seeing right into you,” finishes Wally, before he even knows what he’s doing. “And there’s nothing in there at all. And she sweeps you aside, just like that.”
Hop stops dead in the middle of the path, mouth open.
“How did you …?”
Bryn pauses, his weight shifting on his hooves like he’s considering charging. Cadoc is back down the path and at Wally’s side in a flash, left arm raised with the green ivory of his blade peeping from the elbow.
Wally puts a hand on his shoulder and eases him back a step. Then he takes a breath and forges on.
“I don’t know if you know our Champion here,” he says. “Well, I kind of …”
Got his first pokémon with her help, when her asshole dad palmed him off on her? Was her rival, until it became clear she’d eclipsed him so completely there was no longer any point? Still calls every now and then, trying to close the distance that’s opened up between them as Champion and mid-tier pro, but never knows what to say?
“I can’t beat her either,” he says in the end, feeling useless. “I’ve been trying since I was eleven.”
The two of them look at each other for a long time, standing there in the sun and the light breeze. Bryn shuffles to the side a bit, eyeing the two of them up; Cadoc flicks his blade in and out restlessly.
“You too, huh,” says Hop. “What are the odds of that?”
Wally shrugs.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “I’m not even sure why I’m still here. I know I’m not going to beat her.”
Hop sighs.
“I guess I know I’m not beating Glory, either. Maybe that’s why I’m here. No point banging your head against a brick wall forever. Mug’s game, innit.” He digs a hand into Bryn’s woolly coat, scritching around with his fingers. “Anyway. Sometimes you just need to get away, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” says Wally, thinking of the email waiting at home in his apartment. “I suppose I do.”
Hop’s face cracks into a smile. Like a geode breaking open to show the brilliance within.
“Well, all right, then,” he says. “Hey, bit forward, I know, but – fancy a cheeky battle? One also-ran to another?”
And Wally surprises himself by smiling back.
“Maybe some other time,” he says. “Something I need to get back to. But, uh, if you’re still around … I’d like that.”
“Brill,” says Hop, beaming. “Come on, then, let’s get back. Your gallade looks like he’s about ready to pop if we keep standing still.”
“Cadoc?” Wally glances at him, still fidgeting with his blade. “Yeah, he doesn’t like, ah, dangling about.” That doesn’t sound right. “Hanging around? Is that what you say?”
Hop chuckles.
“Yeah, I getcha, mate,” he says. “C’mon. And, uh, Wally?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for the chat. Gotta admit, I didn’t know I needed it, but it’s pretty bloody good to know I’m not the only one.”
And Wally laughs too, his nerves fading into the warmth of the deepening evening.
“Yeah,” he says. “I know exactly what you mean.”
From: wally95@dmail.hnn
To: red.mitchell@redmitchelltrainer.co.kt
Subject: Re: Job
Mr Mitchell,
Sorry it’s taken me a while to get back to you; I had to think your offer over a little. Alola’s a long way from home. I’m very flattered that you think I’m world-class, and I’d be delighted to accept the position at the Battle Tree. Please let me know if there’s anything else you need from me before we meet to discuss things further.
I look forward to meeting you and your partner!
Best wishes,
Wally
THE EPILOGUES
“Thanks, Mr J―”
“Um, no need for that! Really, Wally’s, uh, Wally’s fine.”
Rei smiles, hugging her zigzagoon to her chest. He wriggles a little and hangs there, tongue lolling. Happy, but tired. All the confirmation that Wally needs that this was a good session.
“Thanks, Wally,” she says. “What do I owe you?”
He shakes his head.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” he tells her. “First one’s on me. Give me a call if you want to continue, okay?”
“Sure! Goodbye!”
He keeps an eye on her as she heads back down the slope towards the woods, her zigzagoon trotting along at her heels. She should be fine; the trainer trails are usually pretty safe. And she has her pokémon, so. You know.
At his side, Cadoc lifts his chin and spreads his facial spines.
“I know,” says Wally, glancing at him. “But you know, I have to make sure.”
He twitches his crest back and forth, the gallade equivalent of a shrug, and stalks off a few paces down the hill. Opposite direction to Rei.
“What, all that training not enough for you?”
Cadoc glances back over his shoulder, his facial spines flicking into a different position. Everyone thinks gallade are telepaths, but really they can only receive feelings and impressions; they communicate solely with movements of crest and spines. They say it takes a lifetime to learn how to read them, but Wally’s pretty sure that that’s an exaggeration, because right now he knows with absolute certainty that Cadoc’s saying come on.
“All right,” he says. “Let’s go for a walk.”
He grabs his bag and follows Cadoc down the hillside, back into the woods where the leaves filter the bite out of the harsh August sunlight. It’s been a beautiful summer, though Wally always looks forward to winter. Less in the air to agitate his asthma, and of course it’s when Hoenn’s pro battling season starts. Nothing against trainer tutoring – it’s good work, and Wally’s always happy to help out rookies – but his heart really does belong to the fight. Cadoc’s, too, really.
All that’s assuming they’re even here for this season. There’s that email waiting at home, watching the time ticking down to the deadline for responding. But no, no, they’ll be here. Wally has a rival to beat, after all. And it’s Hoenn! How could they leave all this behind?
“Just a couple more months,” says Wally, patting Cadoc on the rearward side of his chest horn. “We’ll be back in the arena soon. Another shot at Sapphire, huh?”
Cadoc’s spines fold back flat along his skull. A moment later, the drone of a nearby gadfly cuts off abruptly as it fractures under a pop of psychic pressure.
“Yeah, I know what you mean! This time we’ll beat her.”
The two of them walk on a while in companionable silence. Rei was the last for today, and it’s not like Wally’s got anywhere to be. On an afternoon like this, there’s no place better than the forested slopes of Mount Chimney, strolling along with your partner at your side and a tune in the air―
Wait. Where is that whistling coming from? Whoever it is, they’re absolutely terrible at it.
Wally looks at Cadoc, who lifts a slender hand and points off to the left. A quick smile of thanks – Cadoc doesn’t really need words – and the two of them are off, looping back uphill towards the source of the whistling.
“Hello?”
It’s a man, a boy really, a few years Wally’s junior. Dark skin, blue jacket that looks far too heavy for a Hoenn summer. And a tall, bulky-looking sheep pokémon at his side, though not any species Wally’s ever seen before.
“Hello,” says the guy. He gets the word right, but his accent is absolutely atrocious. “Uh, um, I be Hop. My frien― part― uh, my pokémon, he be Bryn.”
Okay. Vocab’s not so hot either, then. But it’s okay, Wally can help, because it so happens that a good grasp of Galish goes a long way when you’re travelling abroad for tournaments. And when you want to talk to people on the internet. But definitely mostly for the first thing.
“Hi. Wally.” Wally lifts a hand in greeting. “It’s okay, I speak some Galish.”
“Oh. Cheers.” Hop smiles gratefully. “Third gen problems, eh. I never paid much attention to the language as a kid. Mum’s always saying my Hoennic’s a right disgrace.”
This is … obviously Galish Galish, then, not American Galish. It’s not the kind Wally’s most familiar with, but he’s willing to try.
“You’re from Hoenn?” he asks.
“Kind of? On my mum’s side. See, actually―”
Bryn bumps his snout against Hop’s hand in a remember the point kind of way that brings a smile to Wally’s face. Cadoc is just the same. Whenever Wally’s got his head full of an upcoming match, Cadoc’s right there to remind him that he still needs to cook if they’re going to eat at a reasonable hour.
“Oh, right!” Hop snaps his fingers. “Yeah, uh, funny story, mate, we’re actually kinda, uh, lost.” Sheepish grin. “You wouldn’t know happen to know how to get back to town, would you?”
“Um, sure.” Wally glances at Cadoc, who twitches his crest: it’s true, it’s probably time to head back. “I was on my way home anyway. Come on, Fallarbor’s back this way.”
“Thanks!” Hop pats Bryn, who starts off at a trot, matching Cadoc’s pace; Cadoc gives him a dark look and tries to pull ahead, but Bryn just bleats happily and catches up again. “Really appreciate it, mate. This is so embarrassing. I’m meant to be the one who’s good at directions, you know? Of my brother and me, I mean. He’s proper bad, can hardly find his way out of bed in the morning.”
It takes Wally a few moments of walking and thinking to figure out what he’s saying; Hop talks fast and uses words in unfamiliar ways.
“Right,” he says, ducking under a branch. “Well, I’m happy to help.” A brief pause. He should say something else, right? Nobody talks as fast as Hop unless they’re nervous. Wally knows what that’s like, though his are usually the quiet, stammery sort of nerves. “So what brings you to Hoenn?”
“Oh.” Hop scratches the back of his head. “I guess I’m just reconnecting with my roots. And, uh, not gonna lie, last time I went to Uganda to see Dad’s peeps, they all kept telling me I should eat more, dress better and learn the language, so I figured I’d try my luck with the other side of the family.”
Peeps? Wally ponders the word for a moment, but it eludes him. No matter. He thinks he gets the gist of it.
“I see,” he says. “And, um, how has that been?”
“I dunno,” admits Hop. “Honestly, I haven’t spent much time with them. Wanted to get a bit of a feel for the place. I’m a trainer, right, and I was never much good at figuring out my team. So many pokémon around here I wanna get the measure of.”
One of Wally’s favourite topics: training in Hoenn. He has to smile.
“Yeah, Hoenn’s a great place for training,” he says. “I’m a trainer too. I do tutoring for the, ah, the rookies, I think you say?” Damn it. “Sorry, I haven’t spoken Galish in a while.”
“All fine, mate. Your Galish is way better than my Hoennic.” Hop laughs. “Nice to meet another trainer my own age, though!” His own age? Huh. Hop looks about eighteen to Wally, but maybe his guess is off. “I know, we were all kids once, but like, I feel bad challenging eleven-year-olds to battles and just, y’know, completely mullering them.”
Up ahead, Bryn nudges Cadoc in the same friendly way he did Hop a little earlier; Cadoc shudders delicately and stalks off through the trees. Bryn stares after him for a moment, then bleats vacantly and bounds off in pursuit.
“Sorry,” says Wally nervously. “Cadoc’s very …” How do you say ‘fastidious’ in Galish? “Tidy.” No. That’s not it. “Particular.” No, not that either. But he’s tried twice and that’s probably enough; any more would be weird. “Anyway, there is a professional circuit here. You won’t find many trainers out of their teens just wandering around.”
“Nah, mate, I know.” Hop smiles ruefully. “I’m making a go of the pro thing at home, too. I just …” He sighs. “Nah. Never mind.”
Bryn freezes for a moment, his heavy shoulders aglow with the sunlight making its way down between the trees. Then he turns and trots quickly up the slope to bleat and press his head into his partner’s hand.
“Aw.” Hop rubs his muzzle, gives him a quick pat on what Wally assumes is his neck, though the fluff makes it hard to tell. “Kind of you, but I’m fine. Go on, now.”
But Bryn is going nowhere; he tosses his head and falls into step beside Hop. Picks up his hooves high as he moves, Wally notices. Like a little horse. It’s very sweet.
Also, there’s something going on. Should he ask about it? Probably not; he just met the guy. But also, what would he want if he was alone in Galar? Wally can’t decide. Just like he can’t decide what to do about the email. And now this choice at least is out of his hands, because Hop’s just carrying on talking.
“Well, anyway, we have this tournament system over there,” he’s saying, which, Wally honestly doesn’t see the connection, but he’s glad he doesn’t have to decide what to do now. “It’s all super corporate, not the same charm as having an Elite Four, but I dunno, it’s got better since they broke up Macro.”
“Yeah, I think I remember that.” It was on all the news sites. But Wally has to admit, the break-up of a big Galish megacorp wasn’t really the most interesting thing his phone had to show him that morning as he poked it over cereal and coffee. “Here’s the path,” he announces redundantly, as the broken leaves and dry earth give way to packed earth and dusty rocks. “This is the one that comes out near the Pokémon Core. Centre,” he corrects, as Cadoc shoots him a look. “Pokémon Centre.”
“Nice one!” says Hop. “Hey, Bryn, how come we couldn’t find it? We were like five minutes away.”
Bryn turns his snout up and bleats noncommittally.
“It’s, um, easy to get turned around in the woods,” says Wally kindly, though privately he has no idea how anyone gets lost around here when all you have to do is go downhill to end up back on one path or another.
“Yeah, maybe,” says Hop. “Cheers anyway.”
They walk on for a little while in silence, the only sound the crunching of boots and hooves on the dirt. Cadoc – still taking point up ahead – makes no noise at all, passing over the path so lightly that he might as well be gliding.
Is it awkward? Wally can’t tell. He feels awkward, but he doesn’t know if Hop does. Maybe he should say something. But what?
“Um, so,” he begins, “if you’re in the Wyndon tournaments, I guess you’ve met the Champion, huh?”
Hop’s shoulders stiffen slightly.
“Glory?” he asks. “Uh, that’s what we call her, ’cause she always wins. Yeah, actually. We went on our journey together.”
Oh dear. Wally knows that look. Very well, in fact. He hasn’t beaten Sapphire once in the past fifteen years; he’s willing to bet that Hop’s got a similar track record with Gloria. Glory. Whatever. Anyway, Wally needs to salvage this, right now.
“Is it true that people in Galar can understand what she’s saying?” he asks, and is relieved to see Hop smile.
“Yeah, she’s proper South Wales. ’S all a bit Gavin and Stacey. Or at least that’s the joke all the tabloids made, innit.”
“Gavin and who?”
“Oh. Uh, Galish TV joke, sorry. Doesn’t even make much sense, it’s not like she’s from Barry or anything.” Hop sighs. “But yeah. She always wins, is the main thing. Beat me every time we battled on our journey. And every time I get to the end of the Championship tournament. And, uh, every other time, too. She gets this smile on her face, like she’s―”
“―seeing right into you,” finishes Wally, before he even knows what he’s doing. “And there’s nothing in there at all. And she sweeps you aside, just like that.”
Hop stops dead in the middle of the path, mouth open.
“How did you …?”
Bryn pauses, his weight shifting on his hooves like he’s considering charging. Cadoc is back down the path and at Wally’s side in a flash, left arm raised with the green ivory of his blade peeping from the elbow.
Wally puts a hand on his shoulder and eases him back a step. Then he takes a breath and forges on.
“I don’t know if you know our Champion here,” he says. “Well, I kind of …”
Got his first pokémon with her help, when her asshole dad palmed him off on her? Was her rival, until it became clear she’d eclipsed him so completely there was no longer any point? Still calls every now and then, trying to close the distance that’s opened up between them as Champion and mid-tier pro, but never knows what to say?
“I can’t beat her either,” he says in the end, feeling useless. “I’ve been trying since I was eleven.”
The two of them look at each other for a long time, standing there in the sun and the light breeze. Bryn shuffles to the side a bit, eyeing the two of them up; Cadoc flicks his blade in and out restlessly.
“You too, huh,” says Hop. “What are the odds of that?”
Wally shrugs.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “I’m not even sure why I’m still here. I know I’m not going to beat her.”
Hop sighs.
“I guess I know I’m not beating Glory, either. Maybe that’s why I’m here. No point banging your head against a brick wall forever. Mug’s game, innit.” He digs a hand into Bryn’s woolly coat, scritching around with his fingers. “Anyway. Sometimes you just need to get away, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” says Wally, thinking of the email waiting at home in his apartment. “I suppose I do.”
Hop’s face cracks into a smile. Like a geode breaking open to show the brilliance within.
“Well, all right, then,” he says. “Hey, bit forward, I know, but – fancy a cheeky battle? One also-ran to another?”
And Wally surprises himself by smiling back.
“Maybe some other time,” he says. “Something I need to get back to. But, uh, if you’re still around … I’d like that.”
“Brill,” says Hop, beaming. “Come on, then, let’s get back. Your gallade looks like he’s about ready to pop if we keep standing still.”
“Cadoc?” Wally glances at him, still fidgeting with his blade. “Yeah, he doesn’t like, ah, dangling about.” That doesn’t sound right. “Hanging around? Is that what you say?”
Hop chuckles.
“Yeah, I getcha, mate,” he says. “C’mon. And, uh, Wally?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for the chat. Gotta admit, I didn’t know I needed it, but it’s pretty bloody good to know I’m not the only one.”
And Wally laughs too, his nerves fading into the warmth of the deepening evening.
“Yeah,” he says. “I know exactly what you mean.”
From: wally95@dmail.hnn
To: red.mitchell@redmitchelltrainer.co.kt
Subject: Re: Job
Mr Mitchell,
Sorry it’s taken me a while to get back to you; I had to think your offer over a little. Alola’s a long way from home. I’m very flattered that you think I’m world-class, and I’d be delighted to accept the position at the Battle Tree. Please let me know if there’s anything else you need from me before we meet to discuss things further.
I look forward to meeting you and your partner!
Best wishes,
Wally
