Archive of Our Own ^beta

Hop squeaks as Sonia ruffles his hair for the third time today. Somehow, the nice barbeque he'd planned in celebration for the upcoming Gym Challenge has managed to turn into a "Congratulations for passing all of your exams, Hop!" party, which he's apparently thrown for himself.

He feels like a narcissist.

He understands that it was just a bit of bad timing, but if he hears anyone else congratulate him on a day that was supposed to be for just about everyone here except for him, he might just lose the plot.

"I'm just so excited!" Sonia practically squeals, the sound reverberating around the kitchen and piercing Hop's poor, sensitive ears. "My little Hoppip is growing up! Soon you'll be an Assistant Professor instead of Assistant-to-the-Professor," she teases with a wink, leaning back casually against the counter.

Hop cringes at the nickname, a pout forming on his lips. He isn't especially fond of Hoppip. He likes all pokémon, of course, even Grimmsnarl, honest! But he can admit that he does have some preferences.

Galar doesn't even have Hoppip.

"Earth to Hop!" Sonia is waving a hand in front of Hop's eyes, causing him to flinch and swat her hand away.

"So you do know my actual name," Hop says with a hard smile, before letting it go with a slump of his shoulders. "Just a bit distracted, that's all. Thinking about how we're probably not gonna see most of the people here for a bit once the Gym Challenge starts," he lies easily. His boss doesn't need to know that he's thinking about how Grimmsnarl severely give him the creeps, and he is at least kinda telling the truth. It's why he's thrown this little shindig after all.

Sonia just snorts, crossing her arms. "That's true. I'm sure my little social Butterfree will survive, though," she coos. Hop rolls his eyes and gags, dodging another attempt at a hair ruffle.

"Quit your doting," he says with a huff. They've gotten close over the years, but he'd appreciate it if she stopped fussing over him as if he were still twelve. He's an adult now, and very mature. Sonia sticks out her tongue, very childishly in Hop's opinion.

Speaking of people he has very mature interactions with...

"I'm surprised Bede turned up," he says. The Fairy-type Gym Leader is elusive on a good day, but Hop had felt like he'd may as well invite him. Bede was... fashionably late as he'd probably say, but he did turn up, much to possibly everyone's surprise. Something about how Opal couldn't make it and that someone has to be here representing Ballonlea, which is awful dramatic for a little get-together between friends.

Hop sighs internally just thinking about the bloke and gazes out the window, mentally taking attendance. Everyone he invited has arrived by now - Milo, Kabu, and Nessa are chatting together, Raihan seems to be practically holding Piers hostage as he shows Piers photos on his phone and uh oh, Glo and Lee look like they're about to start battling. It's going to be one of those nights. He can't see Bede anywhere, so he cranes his neck slightly to get a better view to the sides. Where is he? Not out in the garden, clearly.

He turns back to see Sonia smiling at him with a raised eyebrow and frowns. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing!" she says in that sing-song voice she only uses when she's making fun of him. "Just thought you didn't like him."

"I like everyone," he says, turning up his nose. Any tension between the two of them is very much Bede's fault, not his. He can be polite and civil whenever they're together, at least until Bede's endless snippy comments started. After that, it's fair game. He had a proper scolding from Glo the last time the three of them hung out - as if it was somehow his fault that Bede apparently needs to be told to shut his trap every now and then.

Sonia hums, clearly unconvinced. "He's not so bad these days, y'know," she says, as if Hop isn't sick to death of hearing people say it. Frankly, Hop isn't sure he appreciates Bede's little rehabilitation amongst literally everyone he knows. He can admit that Bede isn't actively a complete dickhead anymore, but he wouldn't commit to much more than that.

He's just so bloody annoying. Whenever they're together, Bede always ends up saying something about what he's wearing, or something about how he's had the same haircut for ten years, or about how he's a failure of a trainer who was right to have given up on his dream when he did.

Okay, fine, Bede doesn't say stuff like that anymore. He probably still thinks it, though.

"Yeah, yeah... I invited him to the bloody barbeque, didn't I?" Hop says with crossed arms. On the assumption that he wouldn't turn up, maybe, but still. Either way, he isn't planning on starting any arguments tonight, and he can probably trust that Bede isn't quite the sort to start something when he's a guest in Hop's house. His eyes look back out to everyone outside. Where the bloody hell is he anyway? There's no way he's left already.

He turns back and scowls at the look Sonia gives him, as if she knows something he doesn't. "Why do you even care where he is? Just enjoy the party," she says with a shrug.

"Because! He could be anywhere! He could be rummaging through the bathroom, snooping through my boxer drawer, or looking for something to bloody... bloody blackmail me with!" Hop doesn't care how delusional he sounds; he doesn't like the idea of Bede being in his house unsupervised.

Sonia does him a favour and doesn't comment on the boxer drawer part. "Hop," she starts, giving Hop a lightly chastising look he's gotten a little bit too familiar with for his liking. "I doubt he's rummaging through anything, and even if he did find something to do with you, he wouldn't blackmail you over it."

Hop purses his lips before relenting, taking a seat on a stool and slumping over onto the island. The feeling of cold marble against his forehead is nice. "Fine... 'm still stressed out about it, though."

"You're stressed about everything these days, Hop. Maybe you should go on holiday," she says with a grin, clearly pleased with her own idea. "I hear Alola is lovely this time of year."

"I imagine Alola is pretty nice every time of the year, Sones," Hop says flatly. "And not a bloody chance with the wages you give me."

Sonia sticks out her tongue. "Which is why I'm excited for when I'm actually allowed to promote you, but fair point," she says, then claps her hands loud enough to make Hop physically jump. "Either way! You should still relax a bit every now and then, and that includes stopping your worrying about a certain fairy-type trainer that's probably just in the loo."

"Eugh, too much info, Sones," Hop huffs. He doesn't believe in relaxing, not while his future hangs in the balance. He still has another year and another round of exams before he actually passes, and if he fails at his second dream after the first one was crushed, burned, and then thrown into the ocean, he's not sure he'll be able to handle it.

"What's even your actual problem with him these days?" Sonia asks, and while Hop appreciates the distraction from his possible impending doom, he doesn't quite like the implication that holding a bit of a grudge against Bede of all people is somehow unreasonable.

"He's a snobby twat," Hop mumbles, because he is.

"Alright, come on," Sonia chastises, and Hop's cheeks redden slightly. He doesn't know why Bede brings this out in him. "I know he was quite rude to you back in the Gym Challenge, but..." she trails off, clearly wondering if she's overstepping.

Hop sighs heavily. "It's not about that..." he murmurs. "I wouldn't even mind him that much if he didn't absolutely hate me."

Sonia's expression softens, and she lets out a soft exhale. She takes a step closer and moves her hand to ruffle Hop's hair again before cleverly deciding against it. Instead, she just places it on his shoulder. "He doesn't hate you. How could anyone hate you? You're precious!" she coos.

Hop lifts his head just to give her a withering look before placing his head back onto the counter where it belongs.

"Okay, c'mon. I don't know what's going on between the two of you, but I promise he doesn't hate you. Uh, not anymore at least," she says, and Hop's lips form into a small pout. Sonia is a lot of things, but she isn't much of a liar.

"How could you possibly know that?" he asks. Whether she's being truthful or not, she isn't a mind reader, and it really feels like he's on the sharp end of Bede's attitude all the bloody time.

Sonia just twirls her hair in a conspiratorial way. "Let's just say I think there's just been a bit of... miscommunication going on," she says, as if she somehow knows more about what’s going on than she possibly could. Hop narrows his eyes in suspicion. "Just... try actually talking to him, maybe?"

Hop lets out a frustrated huff. "Have a conversation with Bede? I'd have better chances getting a Hatterene to cuddle me," he mumbles, doing his best to stop his eyes from wandering outside again. Sonia just rolls her eyes and starts to shoo him away.

"Go on, go find him! I'm sure he's around here somewhere, and you're not going to stop squirming until you find him, so shoo!" she says as she forces Hop out of his own bloody kitchen. He groans audibly as he enters the corridor and takes a fruitless peek into the living room. He huffs. He must be upstairs.

He hesitates, choosing to simply peek up the stairs. What is he getting himself into?

Bede has always hated parties.

He remembers hating the pitiful excuse of parties that were thrown at the orphanage, he hates the stuffy League parties he's obligated to attend in Wyndon, and he's currently in the middle of hating this stupid barbeque.

Bede groans into his hands. Why did he even come here? When did he apparently become incapable of telling people no out of some facsimile of politeness? He could have easily smirked, told Hop that he had plenty better to do than attend some stupid gathering in muddy Postwick with its perpetual smell of Wooloo dung, and walked away. He could be sitting in his favourite spot on the sofa right now, sipping tea while watching the nightly reruns of his favourite sitcom that he'd rather die than name.

But alas, here he is sitting on the edge of Hop's bed, hiding in his bedroom. He supposes this only barely counts as attending at all and that he should go out there and... mingle.

He shudders at the thought.

Okay, a majority of the attendants are his fellow Gym Leaders, whom he had hypothetically gotten to know a little bit over the years, but he isn't built for... long-form social interaction. He enjoys brief chats, smug comments, and then a timely disappearance because he's "busy". Not... standing there, bombarded with frankly endless questions about his life. Yes, he's fine. Yes, Opal is doing lovely. Yes, he's looking forward to the Gym Challenge this year just fine, thank you.

It doesn't help that he's at Hop's house, the person he'd practically tormented back in their Gym Challenge - something he technically hasn't apologised for. And now he's expected to hang around him, introduce himself to the rest of his family, and somehow deal with his former champion big brother who really, really does his best to hide his disdain towards him, but frankly isn't even slightly good at it.

He feels like he's in a Bewear nest. "Just enjoy yourself, Bede, just relax, Bede." Easy to say when there aren't... feral Boltunds surrounding you.

Okay, fine, he's being slightly dramatic. Hop's mother has been polite and kind so far, though that's likely because Hop must have never told her that he was quite rotten to him that one time and definitely several times since, and that he is a courtesy invite at best. Hop is just like that, polite yet distant in a way that Bede can easily see through. Hop hates him, obviously. Why wouldn't he after everything he's done?

It doesn't help that every time he tries to extend an olive branch, some kind of insult pours out of his mouth. He was just trying to advise Hop that a wardrobe with a bit more variety than multiple copies of the same woolly denim jacket and a slightly more... modern haircut would work wonders for his image, that's all.

Not that he can say much at this point. He's been growing out his hair, and it's turning out to be a lot harder to maintain than he'd expected; currently tied in a far messier ponytail than he was comfortable with.

Bede lets out a small sound of surprise as his Rotom phone gives him a zap with an audible "Bzzzzt!", pointedly showing him the time. He's been hiding away for twenty minutes and counting, and eventually, someone is going to notice that he's disappeared and come searching, finding him in Hop's bedroom of all places.

Despite being now fully aware of the ticking clock leading to his discovery, Bede continues to distract himself. He isn't ready to go back out there yet.

He swipes Rotom away and gives the room a cursory glance. If he's being honest, it's pretty devoid of almost anything interesting. Plain décor and a bit too much Leon memorabilia for someone who was said ex-champion's brother and not some rabid fanboy. He can begrudgingly admit the big Dubwool plushie on his bed is cute, though. It looks... soft.

The door opens suddenly, and Bede doesn't let out a startled yelp because he is calm and composed at all times, thank you very much. His eyes meet the intruder's, a dismissive comment ready to burst from his lips before he freezes. Hop. Well, it appears he is the intruder, then.

"Ah, Hop... I was just... taking a break from the party," Bede ekes out, caught way too off balance to manage anything other than honesty. He isn't exactly sure how he managed to make what was ultimately the truth sound like such a bald-faced lie, though. His eyes narrow into slits at the sight of Hop's small smirk. "Something funny?" he asks, trying to suppress the deep scowl already forming.

"No, no!" Hop starts, "Just thought snooping in my room was a bit below you, that's all!" he finishes with a grin that doesn't feel sincere in the slightest.

"I'm not—" Bede splutters. He was not snooping, he was just looking. There's a difference. He recomposes himself, dramatically putting a hand through his hair. "As if there's anything in here worth my attention," he says smugly. Good one, that'll show him.

Hop's shoulders droop, and he gives Bede an indecipherable look before looking away. Bede has never been good at reading people, even Hop, who allegedly wears his emotions on his sleeve. If anything, Hop feels more difficult for him to understand than most.

Hop sighs. "Sorry, that was a bit uncalled for. I know you're not looking through my stuff," he says, quieter than before. "But uhh... I get wanting to avoid the party for a bit. So many colourful personalities can be a bit much, innit?"

Bede narrows his eyes suspiciously. The optimistic pokémon professor-in-training who can't keep his mouth shut to save his life being overwhelmed by people? As if.

Bede sniffs. Hop is probably just being polite. Bede supposes he can be polite enough in return.

"I'll happily vacate your bedroom and return to the party if you stop blocking the doorway," Bede says with a pointed nod. Frankly, the last thing he wants to do right now is socialise, but anything sounds like a better idea than the situation he's currently in.

Hop puts his hands out defensively. "I really don't mind, mate - you hiding out in here, I mean," he says, then winces, probably because of his blunt phrasing. Then again, Bede isn't sure there's any way to describe what he's been doing other than hiding. Hop moves out of the way, giving Bede his out if he wants to take it.

Bede hesitates, then sits down onto the bed before lying back with a groan. He isn't ready to face the music just yet, so he just gazes up at the ceiling, noticing the small pokémon stickers on the ceiling that must have been there since Hop was a child.

Hop remains in his spot, and a part of Bede wants to tell him to go away, that he'd come here to be alone, not to get... babysat like this. He isn't sure why Hop brings the bitter, vindictive child in him out again. He swallows it down.

"How do you manage it?" Bede asks into the air instead.

"Err... manage what, mate?" Hop asks awkwardly, and Bede immediately regrets saying anything. Hop is the last person he wants to talk about this with, but he's already opened this can of worms.

Bede lets out a frustrated huff, unsure what to say. "Just...all of it! Bloody... socialising. Dealing with so many people without wanting to..." he trails off. Without wanting to hide in the host's bedroom, apparently. He turns his head to see Hop leaning against the dresser. Surprisingly, he looks thoughtful - as if looking for a genuine answer to Bede's question.

Bede snorts bitterly. "You? Really? I don't buy it for a second."

"Well, I'm here, aren't I? If I liked chatting away as much as you think, wouldn't I be out there?" Hop motions to the window, then puts on a smile. "Maybe we're more alike than you think!" he says, and Bede's face cracks. He was a fool to show even a second of weakness.

"Don't flatter yourself. We're nothing alike," Bede spits, unsure why Hop's words made his blood boil to the degree that it did.

That's a lie. He knows exactly why, but he doesn't want to think about it.

Bede can see Hop's patience drain from his body, a frown landing on his face. "Just trying to be nice mate, but you make it a bit difficult when you bite my head off whenever I say anything," he says, shoulders tensed.

Bede's frown deepens, and he makes a point of turning away from Hop to look towards the window. "Whatever," he spits. At least now he'll be alone.

Guilt starts to pool in his gut. It hadn't felt good, lashing out like that. Maybe his younger self would have felt a sick sense of satisfaction from making someone else feel bad, but all it does these days is make him feel like shit. He's gotten better at taming his more... caustic personality traits, but every time he speaks to Hop, he starts to feel like the bitter, hateful boy he once was all over again.

It makes him wonder if he's really changed at all.

Minutes pass, and Hop stays seated next to him. Bede shifts uncomfortably, his eyes firmly planted towards the window. He can hear the music playing outside, faint voices chatting away, with Raihan's voice gratingly overpowering everyone else. He tries to distract himself by reading the titles of the textbooks on the windowsill, which seem terribly boring. His eyes eventually land on a small porcelain Wooloo.

Postwick and their bloody Wooloo. Still, it's one of the few things in here that feels decidedly Hop's, though he's not sure why he even cares enough to pay attention.

Bede takes a peek to his right and sees that Hop is still there. He was looking the other way, but he was still there. Bede lets out a tiny exhale through his nose. Whatever there is between them, Bede is sick of it. He doesn't want to make people unhappy anymore, as much of an expert as he is at it.

He could... apologise, couldn't he? Both for just now and... well, for everything bloody else. It's become quite the list at this point. He's already done his best to mend every other relationship he'd had a rocky start with. What's one more?

Bede swallows heavily, hoping it isn't audible in the quiet room. He's put this off for far too long already. He closes his eyes and thinks through what he plans to say, and steels himself.

He opens his mouth to speak, but his lips have gotten stuck together, so he just ends up eking out a vague, mumbled sound, then coughs into his elbow away from Hop in an attempt to cover it up. Great, now he looks like a fool.

"Er... you alright, mate? Did you say something?" Hop asks, sounding like he's still thoroughly done with Bede's shit. Bede's scowl deepens to a point it probably hasn't in a long time.

"I said I'm sorry!" Bede practically hisses, which likely dampened the effect of his apology, but he doesn't care. Before Hop can even reply, he barrels on. "I'm sorry for calling you a stupid, terrible, talentless, waste of air, sad excuse for a trainer who is a stain on his brother's legacy and an embarrassment to himself and his family." Bede kept his eyes planted firmly towards the window, breathless by the end of it.

A moment passes, then another.

Why isn't Hop saying anything? He probably doesn't care, thinks it's too little too late and that Bede was pathetic for trying to apologise so long after everything.

Eventually, Bede bites the bullet and looks up and sees Hop, quirking up a single eyebrow with an incredulous expression on his face. Then, Hop giggles.

Bede's cheeks redden deeply. "What's so bloody funny?" he says indignantly. He didn't say all that just to get laughed at.

"Nothing, nothing!" Hop manages between giggles, putting out his hands in a defensive gesture. "It's just... I don't think you actually ever quite called me a waste of air."

Ah. He must have just made that one up. Or had simply kept that part to himself back then, maybe. Oops. "W-well, uh. You're not. A waste of air," Bede chokes out, the deep crimson of his cheeks clear on his pale skin. A part of him misses when he was content to crush the dreams of just about anyone he came across. Things were easier then.

They sit in silence for a while. Bede has said his fill. There's probably more to apologise for over the years, but he isn't about to turn completely soft.

"Thanks, Bede," Hop begins quietly, and Bede startles at the fact that Hop actually seems to mean it. "I know you don't really like me, but... I do appreciate the apology. Even if I promise that I don't really think about it that much anymore," which meant that he definitely does still at least think about it sometimes.

Bede huffs. "I mean it. Don't let some fourteen-year-old with a complex tell you how you should think of yourself," he says, and that at least sounds a bit less alien coming from his lips. Much better than this apologising rubbish.

"Suppose you're probably right," Hop concedes with a snicker, somehow seeming even more placated by that than the apology itself. His foot begins to tap against the floor.

Bede just hums. "And... sorry. For snapping at you just now." This is embarrassing. He feels terribly small, but he supposes that's a fair punishment for everything he's done.

Hop lets out a small exhale through his nose. "It's fine. Fresh start, yeah?" he says, and Bede isn't sure if he means for their current conversation or... well, everything between them. "I really do know what you mean, though. Honestly," Hop continues, already putting out his hands as if to soothe Bede's wrath. "I might not... avoid having to talk to people, but... it can be a bit much sometimes."

Bede's eyes narrow briefly, before softening. "And... how do you deal with things when they get like that then?" he asks. Hop has always seemed so... put-together in that manner, always ready to handle a conversation with absolutely anyone. Unlike Bede, who can only really stand to be around his pokémon half of the time. Maybe Hop has some genuinely useful advice to give.

"Err... power on and make a fool of myself and then scream into a pillow when I get home?" Hop says with a lame shrug.

Bede snorts. "Hm. I suppose you are quite good at making a fool of yourself," he says, and immediately kicks himself internally. He's supposed to be nice now, isn't he?

Hop just lets out a small airy laugh. "Better than hiding out in someone else's bedroom, eh?" he says with a small smirk, not sounding as biting as he usually did when he clapped back, and Bede supposes he can't really argue with that. Bede's mouth opens to speak, but he's interrupted when his stomach growls.

Hop snickers. "See, this is why you don't hide away from Mum's cooking," he teases, an easy smile on his face. Bede has seen it plenty of times before, though this is the first time he feels like it's actually aimed towards him.

He... doesn't know how he feels about that yet.

Bede lets out a snooty "hmph" before standing, desperate to make sure Hop doesn't see the furious blush on his face that is surely from embarrassment over his traitorous stomach. He moves to the door before hesitating, unsure if Hop expects more from this.

Hop rolls his eyes playfully. "Don't worry about it, alright? We're fine now. As long as you thank Mum for the food and for being such a gracious host for letting you hide up in her son's bedroom for the entire length of the barbeque," he teases again with a snicker.

A pout forms on Bede's lips. "I haven't—" he's interrupted by his Rotom phone pointedly flashing the time right into his face, and Hop's smirk widens. He's been in here a while. He can't believe he's getting tag-teamed by Hop and his own bloody phone. He scowls, but it's half-hearted. "Not the entire length of the barbeque," he still insists. He can maybe handle the rest of the evening without hiding in any more bedrooms of weird former rivals he had unfinished business with.

Hop is still reeling ten minutes later. Bede apologised. He actually apologised for all the awful stuff he said all those years ago. He really does appreciate the apology, but if he's being honest, he feels a little bit stupid that he was bothered enough to even want the apology after all these years.

It's not as if what Bede said back then wasn't true.

He thinks back to their battle in the rain, the disdainful sneer on the white-haired boy's face as he told Hop everything that he already knew - that he wasn't cut out for battling and that he was just tarnishing Leon's legacy by even bothering to try. He'd managed to bounce back, had even made it to the semi-finals, and yet in the end those words rang true, whether spoken from Bede's mouth or by the voice in his own head. He simply wasn't up to snuff and rebounded to the next big dream he could think of.

He sighs, sliding down the wall behind him. He's blocking the corridor, but that's fine. Worst-case scenario, someone will have to step over him.

He doesn't regret his choices, really. His simple fourteen-year-old mind had at least correctly identified that the one thing that had truly made him happy during his Gym Challenge was his pokémon, and he's always eager to meet more. What better choice than a job where he can help pokémon on the daily, especially since Sonia had so kindly given him an in?

Still, he can't really stop himself from thinking sometimes that his current career prospects are just a desperate backup plan. He still doesn't really feel like he knows what he's doing with his life.

He gives himself two small slaps on each cheek. This isn't the time for moping. Today is supposed to be a good day. All of his friends are here, and he has no intent of wasting their short time together before everyone is busy again.

As he's about to stand up, he feels a soft thump to his side, causing him to yelp.

"Bloody hell, Glo! What are you doing?!" he starts, frazzled by the champion's sudden appearance on the floor next to him.

Gloria just shrugs nonchalantly. "Came to see what the fuss was about with this whole 'sitting on the floor' thing. Four out of ten, you should get better hobbies," she says, voice monotone.

"A four feels generous," Hop says.

"Your carpet is comfier than it looks," Gloria says simply with a nod. "So... why exactly are you sitting on the floor in the corridor to your bathroom?" she asks, not mincing her words even a bit as she stays seated next to him.

Hop just huffs. They don't need to get into it. He's over it, so he just ignores the question. "Bede just apologised to me. You know, for when he was a dickhead during the Gym Challenge?" he says instead.

Gloria nods in understanding before raising an eyebrow. "And that's why you're sitting on the floor hiding like a schoolgirl with a crush?" she says, her voice far too genuine as she asks such a stupid question.

"I'm not— I don't—!" he splutters. He might not want to throttle Bede anymore, but calling it a crush is really pushing it. He inhales, then exhales, recomposing himself. "It just made me think of what he actually said back then, that's all," he admits. He puts his hands out defensively as Gloria starts to frown. "Don't start! It's alright. I don't think stuff like that anymore," he lies a little too easily. He's opened up to her plenty, during the Gym Challenge and after, but he doesn't want to bother her with his stupid insecurities anymore. He puts them in a neat little box inside his brain for him to unpack another day.

Gloria's frown remains, as if she doesn't really believe a word of what Hop just said, but she relents. "Well... I'm glad you and Bede are friends now," she says.

Hop sighs, a small smile landing on his face. "While I do appreciate you downgrading it from crush, I still think you're pushing it," he says wearily.

"Whatever it is, I hope it means you both quit going for each other's jugulars every time I want to hang out with more than one of my friends at the same time," she says pointedly, standing up and offering a hand for Hop to take.

Hop accepts the hand up, then sticks out his tongue. "No promises." Frankly, he isn't sure how conversation with Bede will be from now on. Will they slip back into old habits?

Bede... had let his guard down a bit back there. He hadn't realised until now that Bede was even capable of not looking pristine and perfect all of the time. Who'd have thought the bulletproof Fairy-type Gym Leader got that stressed over talking to people?

Hop does hope things will be better between them now. Maybe they aren't going to become friends or anything, but they've proven they can at least get along a bit if they really put the effort in.

"So, champ... you planning on losing this year?" Hop teases as they make their way down the stairs.

Gloria glowers at him. "As if they stand a chance," she says indignantly.

Hop cackles at that. "You never know... Leon thought he was unbeatable, too, and then you kicked his arse. Some kid out of nowhere might swipe the title like you did."

"This is a severe lack of support from someone who's supposed to be my biggest fan, Hop," Gloria pouts. Hop rolls his eyes playfully.

"You'll be fine. I dunno why you stress out so much. Honestly, I feel like they're gonna have to change the rules one day 'cause you'll be so unbeatable," he says honestly. Gloria's team is unbelievably strong these days, capable of mopping the floor with even Leon with ease.

Gloria wrinkles her nose. "Cut it out. I'd rather you heckle me," she says, eliciting a cackle from Hop.

The rest of the evening has been relatively uneventful, in Bede's opinion. He's managed the last couple of hours without insulting anyone too badly, he was extra polite to Hop's mother, and even managed to smile at Leon. Though, the shamelessly confused expression he received in return was enough for him to drop that act quickly. He'd much preferred it when his main experience of Leon was the stupid champion prancing around in front of the cameras, not the protective older brother act he is dealing with now.

He accidentally makes eye contact with Hop across the garden, receiving a beaming smile in response. He instinctively scowls and gets a playful roll of the eyes back as Hop returns to his conversation with Gloria.

"You two finally made up, huh?" he hears from behind, turning to see Marnie leaning against the garden wall. Morpeko quickly jumps from her shoulder onto Bede's head, snuggling into his curly locks - a frankly dreadful habit that Marnie needs to curb as soon as possible.

"Get this vermin off of me," Bede hisses, well aware that if he really, really wanted to, he could remove the pokémon himself.

Marnie shrugs unrepentantly. "If your hair didn't look like a Morpeko nest, he wouldn't wanna go in there," she says, which is incredibly offensive considering that Bede spends substantial amounts of time desperately trying to tame his curls every day. A poor job, but still.

Bede decides to ignore the comment to address her original question. "If you can call vaguely apologising for shitting on a poor kid's dream 'making up' then I suppose," he drawls, then stretches, suppressing a yawn. He'll be back in Ballonlea after his bedtime at this rate.

He is definitely not going to say that out loud because he's sure even Hop's mother would bully him if he did.

"Well, it's about time you grew up," Marnie comments bluntly, but the tiny gleam in her eye makes it clear she was proud of him. Gross.

Bede and Marnie had managed to become sort-of friends over the years, though it was mostly borne from Marnie's complete lack of hesitation in calling him out on his shit. He respects it, and he enjoys speaking with someone who never gives the impression of dancing around him. He used to ask her why she bothers to hang out with him, but he usually just gets called a tosser for asking, so he just doesn't anymore.

"About time you grew up and asked Gloria out," Bede counters. He doesn't deserve to put up with this. He's been through the wringer tonight already. He feels a harsh tug on a lock of his hair and growls, forcibly removing Morpeko and handing the little shit back over to Marnie. "And control your bloody pokémon!"

Marnie coddles Morpeko as the little hellspawn pretends to cry into her chest and gives Bede a scolding look. Bede rolls his eyes and pulls out a lollipop from his pocket, unwrapping it and handing it over to Morpeko. Keeping your pockets stuffed with sweets was a good way to get what you want in life - one of many tricks he'd learned from Opal over the years. The rat seems placated, and goes quiet.

Marnie gives him a pleading look, and Bede begrudgingly hands one over to her, too.

"So what's the deal?" Marnie asks, voice muffled by lollipop. "You two snogging anytime soon?"

Bede's eye twitches. He's changed his mind. He hates Marnie. Absolutely despises her and always will. "Shut it," he hisses, "We may no longer be mortal enemies, but I do have standards."

"Oh, is that why you don't date? High standards?" Marnie says sarcastically, tapping her chin.

"High enough that I don't intend to pursue a glorified Wooloo herder," he shoots back. Arceus, he feels a killer headache coming on. Frankly, the idea of dating or trying to pursue anyone is terrif— repulsive to him. "And I have plenty better things to do than date."

Marnie just lets out an exaggerated hum. "Maybe you could use the sunshine in your life," she says, nodding towards Hop, who is beaming about something in a way that hurts Bede's eyes. "You've got a bit of a perpetual storm cloud over your head. Might fix you," she adds, her hands drawing the shape of a small cloud above his head.

"Absolutely not. Ballonlea has enough sunshine for me," Bede says, which is almost none, even during the day. His eyes wander back over to Hop, talking with his hands about something only he could possibly find interesting, and yet Gloria seems entranced with him anyway.

Something about the sight annoys him, but he supposes most things annoy him.

"And I don't need fixing," he hisses. He is a perfectly well-adjusted individual, as he repeatedly insists to the League's therapist.

Marnie just snorts. That's it, he's out of here. He doesn't care about her, and he doesn't care about stupid Hop. Things are settled now. It doesn't mean that they're friends, and it definitely doesn't mean that they're anything more than that.

He begins to walk away to talk to... oh dear, the choices are quite dire. He's about to go back into the house to hide again when Raihan spots him, eagerly bounding over.

This is going to be a terrible night.

Hop stretches, his arms going above his head. People are starting to filter out, especially those with a bit of travelling to do. Piers gave a classic Spikemuth Goodbye on his way out (which is none at all), and Marnie followed him shortly after, breaking deep-rooted traditions by giving him a quick hug on her way out. He finishes waving goodbye to Allister and Bea when he hears a shuffle from behind him, turning to see Bede hanging around awkwardly, as if unsure if it's okay for him to leave now.

He isn't able to suppress a snort. It's maybe a bit mean to think, but he prefers Bede when he's out of his element like this, at least in comparison to when he's confidently slagging him off.

"You can just leave if you want, y'know," Hop says. Bede lets out a huff, shoulders slumping probably as much as he'd ever let them while someone else is watching. "You look knackered."

"I'm not knackered, I'm perfectly—" Bede is interrupted by his own yawn, visibly ruffling in embarrassment. Hop snorts, letting Bede get away with it for now.

"Cheers for earlier again, by the way. Mum called you a 'very polite young man' so you must have left an impression," he teases with a grin, maybe feeling a bit too glad that they didn't end up fistfighting in the garden. Bede doesn't seem to find it very funny, though.

"Did you ever tell her? Your mum. About how... about what I said back then?" Bede asks, leaning his back against the wall. Oh, so they were talking talking.

Hop shifts uncomfortably. "Er... not really," he says. Not at all even slightly, actually. "No point worrying her, so I didn't grass on you or anything."

"And your brother?" Bede asks in a tone that suggests that he already knows the answer.

Hop decidedly looked away for that. "Er... Gloria might have snitched for that one," he admits. Bede's eyebrows raise in surprise at that, then he scowls. Uh oh, things had been going so well.

"So what, you never actually told anyone I practically bullied you? That I shattered all the confidence you had?" Bede says, clearly annoyed about something. Hop frowns. What was his problem? Shouldn't Bede be thankful that he never snitched?

"Look... it's chill, yeah?" he attempts, hands coming out in a soothing motion. "It really wasn't that big of a deal. If you hadn't said it, I'd have lost faith in my capabilities some other time instead," he says honestly.

Bede is just looking at him as if he has two heads. Honestly, Hop doesn't know how he's apparently managed to mess this conversation up. Bede just stares, as if expecting him to say something else.

"You're... incredibly strange, you know that?" Bede eventually says, eyes searching Hop's face for Arceus knows what.

Alright, now Hop is really confused as to what the problem is. He pinches his nose, suppressing the "pot, meet kettle" that was dancing on his lips. "Listen, mate, I don't want to argue. Let's just leave things be, yeah?"

Bede just stares, eyes slightly narrowed. Scary.

"Fine..." he says, moving past Hop towards the door. He stops, turning back. "Um. Thank you for... inviting me," he just says.

Phew. Much better. Hop grins. "Don't worry about it! Thanks for... coming, I suppose," he says, and finds himself actually meaning it. Things felt... a bit lighter between them now.

Bede hums, lingering for another moment. "And uhh... congrats on passing your exams as well," he says lamely, and it takes everything in Hop to not slam the door.

Something is off in the Tangle.

Bede pinches his nose, a killer headache coming on. He goes into the kitchen and swallows some painkillers with his tea, shuddering as it goes down his throat. Too hot. He focuses on the unpleasant sensation in an attempt to distract himself.

He knows exactly what he has to do, and he is not looking forward to it.

The pokémon in the Glimwood Tangle have been behaving strangely recently, and while Bede would like to think that he's an expert in the behaviour of fairy-types, he sadly is not. Interacting with them always felt so... intuitive, and it feels like a connection has been severed now that he can't read them. Even his own pokémon seemed to gaze around warily whenever he took them into the trees.

Bede knows that he's going to have to resort to extreme measures, that he has to do something that he'd promised himself that he would never, ever, under any circumstances do, no matter how desperate he became.

He's going to have to ask Hop for help.

Sonia is inevitably going to be busy right now, and as much as Bede is loath to admit it, Hop is a prodigy when it comes to pokémon and their behaviour.

Or so he hears.

He sits back down on the sofa, delaying the inevitable. He'd gotten Hop's number from Gloria, and all he has to do now is press call. Sylveon jumps up onto the arm of the sofa, mewing happily at Bede.

"Come on, sweetheart, you know you're not allowed on the sofa," he says, making no move to actually get her down. It's Opal's rule anyway, and she isn't here right now. Sylveon mews again, then nods towards Bede's phone and tilts her head. "Just a work call, sweetheart. Don't worry about it," he says, and pouts when Sylveon manages to look as if she doesn't believe him.

He purses his lips as Sylveon looks up at him, her head tilting as if to say "just do it!" He continues to sit there, tapping his food rhythmically against the hardwood floor. One of Sylveon's feelers wrap gently around his arm, a soothing sensation filling his body.

"I'm not nervous..." Bede argues weakly, but he can't deny the effect of the pleasant feeling overcoming him. "I'm just... apprehensive." Sylveon continues to pump soothing thoughts into his mind, uncaring of his attempts to deny his clear anxiety. Things are... fine between them now, aren't they? Hop had said so, at least. Either way, Bede would surely mess things up again between them at the earliest opportunity because he's still constantly rude to everyone he speaks to and—

One of Sylveon's feelers slaps his hand away just before he's about to start gnawing on his nails and he narrows his eyes. "You're overstepping," he says before attempting again, only for Sylveon's feelers to wrap around his wrist, her work only intensifying to the point where it was making him a little dizzy. He can't rely on her for everything, so he performs the breathing exercises he'd been taught. In, and out...

He takes one final deep breath as Sylveon retracts her feelers, clearly satisfied; and counts to ten in his head before pressing call. It rings... and rings, and rings, and rings...

"'Ello! You've reached Hop. Leave a—" Bede hangs up, eye twitching. Never mind, the Tangle can burn for all he cares. If there wasn't a living Rotom in his phone he'd have probably crushed it in his hand by now. Sylveon's feelers return around his arm, doing their best to mellow his violent thoughts.

He takes another deep breath and calls again. He hopes the severe negative energy he's currently sending Hop's way tells him to pick up the bloody phone. The call gets answered on the fourth ring and Bede hears some rustling.

"'Ello...? Who is it?" Bede hears over the line. He groans internally, thoroughly unprepared now that the call has started. He clears his throat.

"Uhh, Hop? It's Bede." Why does his voice sound like that? He hates phoning people.

"Oh, heya Bede!" Hop says, the sheer cheeriness of it making Bede wince, like staring directly into the sun. He wants to hide under the cushions. "Hold on, let me save your number..."

Bede taps his fingers on the arm of the sofa impatiently. Sylveon mews at him, clearly a little impatient herself at how much work she's having to put in to keep Bede sane. "Alright! What's up?" Hop finally says.

"The Tangle is all wrong. Fix it," Bede hisses, already far too annoyed for much more. He feels like being difficult today.

He hears a strangled sound over the phone. "Er... well..." Hop stammers, "Can you give me a few more details, maybe?"

Bede sighs. He supposes a bit more detail is necessary if he actually wants help. "The pokémon are on edge. Uneasy. I'm not sure what the problem is and this is your field of expertise, so..." he trails off. He doesn't want to admit he needs the help quite desperately unless he has to.

"Right, right..." Hop says, the sound of pen on paper audible, "Well, there's a lot of possibilities, I suppose. I'll probably have to go there myself, so let me ask Sonia if I have the time today."

Bede shifts in his spot on the sofa. He hadn't expected Hop to agree so easily, much less try to come today. "There's... no rush," he lies. Frankly, he's stressed out of his mind. He doesn't think Hop is even listening since he can hear some vague chattering between him and Sonia. Something about records and papers? He hears Hop pick up the phone again.

"Right! I'll be there in an hour?" Hop says, a bit too much enthusiasm in his tone in Bede's opinion.

Be polite, Bede.

"Alright... I'll meet you by the pokémon centre," he just says.

"Ace! See you in a bit!" Hop replies, and hangs up. Bede groans. He isn't sure if he's ever going to get used to this new Hop. Or rather, the Hop that everyone else has been dealing for years.

He sighs, hands instinctively starting to flow through Sylveon's fur. What is he getting himself into?

Hop takes a deep breath as he steps out of the Corviknight taxi. If there's anything he and Lee disagree on, it's their opinions on flying. He'd much rather take the train, but he wanted to get to Ballonlea sometime this month, so this had been the only option.

He can't believe Bede calls Postwick a backwater when the only way to get here on the ground is by taking a train to a train to Hammerlocke, walking through a bloody desert, then walking through a massive, dark forest filled with pokémon looking to pull your trousers down so they can laugh at you while you're at your lowest point, making you curl up into a ball and cry in the most enclosed space you could find.

Professionally, he loves all pokémon. Unprofessionally, he'd have kicked those Impidimp in the teeth the first time he went through this wretched forest if he wasn't as... emotionally vulnerable as he was in the moment.

He quickly spots Bede, giving a wave and yawning as he approaches. Bede's nose immediately crinkles in disapproval. "What? I haven't had any coffee today yet," Hop says in his own defence. It's far too early to be all the way in Ballonlea, but he knows Bede wouldn't have asked him for help if he wasn't really desperate. Even if they'd... made up. Sort of. Maybe.

"I hear you're quite the addict," Bede replies dryly. Hop is starting to wonder if Bede's face just has a natural scowl. Surely he isn't so annoying to have dragged it out of him already.

Hop shrugs nonchalantly. "A few a day won't kill me. Speaking of, any coffee shops nearby?" he asks. He could use the pick-me-up before what would inevitably be a very long day in one of his least favourite places in Galar.

Bede gives him a flat look. "We have a teahouse, not a coffee shop," he says, as if Hop had said the most sacrilegious thing in the world.

Hop just blinks. "Does it sell coffee?"

"Yes, but that's besides the point and the lovely lady behind the counter will judge you for ordering coffee instead of one of her homemade teas," Bede says, as if daring Hop to do so.

Hop shudders. If she's anything like Lady Opal it will be quite scathing judgement. But it'll be worth it. "Well, unless you want unsound research you'd better stick up for me," he says, already starting to walk into town. This is non-negotiable for him. If he's going to torture himself by being in the bloody Glimwood Tangle for a day, he'd may as well be tortured while caffeinated. He hears Bede sigh dramatically behind him, before catching up.

Hop feels bad when Bede actually apologises on his behalf when he orders his coffee. He withers under the old lady's disapproving glare, not realising that Bede was apparently deathly serious.

"You're lucky I hold so much sway here," Bede says as he sits on the seat across from Hop, blowing his tea gently. Is this really a thing??? He feels mortified.

"You're not even from here," Hop mumbles with a pout, doing his best to avoid eye contact with the scary old lady. He brings his coffee mug to his lips, which is thankfully large enough for him to practically hide his face behind.

Bede's eyes widen slightly at the comment and Hop is about to apologise when Bede's face stabilises. He takes a seemingly relaxed sip, both hands cupping his mug. "Ballonlea is a state of mind. Opal knew what she was doing when she kidnapped me," he says, as if it isn't a totally deranged thing to say, but Hop decides not to comment and lets it slide. This is a town of lunatics.

He sips his coffee, before wrinkling his nose. Instant, of course. He probably deserves this. He hates to admit that he's become a bit of a coffee snob over the years.

"Is that why you run around everywhere?" Bede asks, jolting Hop from his thoughts. Hop tilts his head in confusion. "Too much energy?" Bede clarifies, nodding towards Hop's mug.

Hop tries to think back as he takes what is surely just a snippy comment as a serious question. He had quite literally sprinted full speed everywhere he went during the Gym Challenge (much to Gloria's annoyance), so it obviously isn't a new development. He doesn't even really run that much anymore. If anything, he's a bit out of shape these days. He'd end up proper out of puff if he tried to run anywhere right now.

"Dunno, probably not," Hop says, rubbing his chin. "Don't feel like I have much energy." Coffee keeps his energy at a gentle simmer, the actual buzz of it not being something he really feels much anymore.

Bede gives him a questioning look. "Do you get enough sleep?" he asks, looking at Hop as if he's stupid. Of course he gets enough sleep.

"I hear some people only need, like, four hours of sleep a day," Hop chokes out weakly. He has to be one of them, right?

Bede pinches his nose. Bzzzz! Wrong answer!

"Get. More. Sleep. Idiot," Bede says, glaring daggers at him. Maybe Bede is right about Ballonlea being a state of mind. Everyone here is a truly terrifying individual.

Hop groans, bringing his hands up to his face. "Ugh! It's hard! My mind is always racing at a million miles an hour even in the early morning!" he whines. A Ghastly must have cursed him with insomnia at some point in his life. That has to be it.

Bede shakes his head incredulously. "Oh, I'm sure that has nothing to do with the fact that you guzzle coffee all day. You've learned all the wrong lessons from Sonia. And Magnolia while you're at it," he says, before rolling his eyes with a huff. "At least drink less of it, and if you're drinking it after 3pm, cut it out."

Hop wrinkles his nose at the idea. He could never give up coffee. It's one of his few precious comforts in life and the main reason his coursework for uni even got finished, let alone the fact that it was apparently somehow quite decent. He sighs, because Bede's logic is... undeniably sound. "Yeah, yeah, fine. No more coffee after 5pm," he concedes.

"Three."

"Fine, three..." Hop mumbles weakly. He's far too much of a pushover. Though then again, Bede does seem to be trying to help, even if it's in his own terribly mean way. He lets out a dramatic sigh, hoping to make Bede feel sympathy for his plight. He looks up to check Bede's expression, no sympathy to be found. Tsk.

Hop is suddenly very aware this is the closest thing to an actual conversation he and Bede have likely ever had. This is basically a first impression between them. Is he mucking it up? He's already made Bede apologise for his supposedly bad behaviour.

"So, uhh... you prefer tea then?" Hop's voice cracks slightly. His eyes dart nervously around the teahouse. He just wants to get to know Bede a bit. He's embarrassed to admit that he doesn't actually know much about the bloke other than the fact that he likes the colour pink. At least he thinks Bede likes pink. He'd gotten it bloody wrong when he assumed pink was Opal's favourite colour.

"Oh? We're in the small talk phase now are we?" Bede says, back to exuding his usual smug aura, but Hop notices how Bede's fingers have started to rub idly against the side of his mug. "But yes, I do prefer when my hot beverages relax me instead of making me bounce off of the walls," he pointedly nods towards Hop's coffee, disdain written all over his expression.

"Yeah, but you could at least drink normal Galarian tea. Not that... herbal stuff," Hop says, a little louder than he'd intended. He hunches his shoulders, looking around, expecting the granny from across the counter to start whacking him with her handbag. "What's even in there?" he whispers, sitting up slightly to look into Bede's mug, wrinkling his nose once it becomes clear there isn't any milk in there.

Bede swirls the tea in his mug absently. "It's chamomile tea, and I do drink normal tea. Everyone does," he says, and Hop shakes his head in disagreement.

"Vic doesn't. He hates the stuff," Hop says, immediately regretting allowing Victor to even cross his mind. He doesn't want to think about him right now.

Bede snorts, his nose wrinkling in disgust. He takes another sip of his tea as if to soothe himself. "Good thing he's buggered off to the Crown Tundra, hm?" he says with a disapproving sniff. Hop lets out an airy laugh at that. Bede's comments aren't so bad when they're aimed at someone else for once.

Bede follows idly behind Hop as he writes on a clipboard. It's like Hop's entire demeanour has changed now that he's in his element, completely silent other than occasional hums as he analyses his surroundings as they walk deeper into the Glimwood Tangle. What was usually a lively experience (too lively for most people) has been placid so far. Which is the entire problem.

Bede drinks in the frankly dreadful atmosphere of the Tangle as they walk. It's been twenty minutes already, and not a single pokémon has popped out in a attempt to scare him, he hasn't heard any creepy giggles from Impidimp in the distance, and seen no Morgrem blocking the path and acting tough.

Terribly off. Still, it's nice to have Hop be quiet for once.

"Any idea what the problem is, then?" Bede speaks up, causing Hop to jump as if he'd forgotten Bede was even there. "I haven't seen a single pokemon since we even got here," he adds, doing his best to keep his voice stable. Things are even worse than yesterday.

Hop makes an unsure sound, eyes gazing into the trees. "Hmm... not really. There's Phantump wandering out there, though," he says quietly, his finger following along a ghostly shape deep in the trees. "Seems like it might only be the fairy-types that are bothered."

Hm. Bede hadn't noticed, but he couldn't find any reason to disagree with the theory. He never paid much attention to the ghosts of the Tangle, since they were rarer and far more elusive, but he can see them now that Hop has pointed them out.

"Well, well, well, Mr Professor-in-training. Maybe you're not so useless after all," Bede says. ignoring Hop's indignant squawk as he continues, "So what now? What's the actual problem?"

Hop purses his lips. "I dunno. Does anything else seem different to you? Other than how the pokémon are behaving, I mean."

Bede exhales through his nose. "If I knew—" he bites his tongue before something venomous spills out of his mouth, and breathes. Patience, Bede. "No," he says simply, a little too much desperation in his tone for his tastes. "Just... a sense of unease."

"Right..." Hop says, crouching down to look at a small plant that Bede would never have considered even slightly relevant for a single second. "I might have to take some samples of the flora and fauna, take them back to Wedgehurst, run some tests, make up some slides, check them out under a microscope..."

Bede tunes him out, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples until Hop is finished. His poor headache. He misses quiet Hop already.

"—and that'll take about a week," Bede reopens his eyes, a disapproving look on his face. This situation has been driving him insane for days already. The Tangle and the well-being of the pokémon within it are his responsibility as the Gym Leader of Ballonlea. A week simply isn't good enough.

Hop's enthusiasm falters, his posture visibly drooping. It seems like Hop had been having fun, and Bede just totally rained on his parade. Oops. "I dunno, Bede... I just don't know where to start," he admits, looking around them as if it the answer will suddenly hit him.

Bede sighs, cheeks reddening slightly. He doesn't want to be overly pushy, especially because he can tell Hop really is doing his best here. "Let's just... walk around a bit more. See if we find something." He knows he sounds desperate, maybe even a bit pathetic, but if there's any chance of figuring this out today, he intends to take it. Dignity be damned.

Another hour of wandering in what felt like circles, and Hop is pretty sure they've managed to figure out what the problem is, unless the giant, very pissed off looking Copperajah standing in a comparatively tiny clearing somehow has nothing to do with it.

"Well, that explains things," Hop muses, voice hushed. A big, strong steel-type was surely going to freak out the mostly low-level fairy-types of the Tangle. The Copperajah seems even more angry about the situation than anyone, though. He turns to Bede and immediately eats his words because Bede is possibly seething even harder than the Copperajah is.

"Just get rid of it," Bede hisses through gritted teeth before turning on his heel and walking away. Okay then, looks like he's dealing with it on his own. This is fine. What is less fine is the fact that the bloody thing is already charging him since it clearly heard Bede's outburst and now looks like it wants to turn Hop into paste.

Hop unhooks a pokéball, launching it towards the Copperajah which thankfully respects the rules of a fair fight. Cinderace pops out, looking back and letting out a confused squeak. Oops. She must have been sleeping.

"C'mon, Cindy! You can do it!" he encourages. She'll be fine!

A few minutes later, the heavy ball shakes, and shakes, and shakes... and clicks. "Don't worry, big guy. I'll release you somewhere where you'll be more comfortable," he promises to the Copperajah inside, hoping it'll quell it's fury a little. He pats Cindy on her head for doing such a good job. His pokémon will never cease to amaze him.

Now where did Bede get off to?

Hop scuffs his shoes idly against the ground of the clearing. Did Bede expect him to follow? Or is he going to come back to get him? If Hop is being honest he's been completely turned around and has no idea which direction they came from.

Damnit Hop, you're not Lee. You're supposed to be better than this.

At least the clearing is peaceful now, a break from the unsettling atmosphere of the Glimwood Tangle, especially now that the Copperajah has been dealt with and the Impidimp are probably drooling to torment him in some fashion.

He shifts uncomfortably when he thinks back to Bede's reaction. He'd expected Bede to be pleased that the problem was so easily solvable, but he'd looked downright furious.

He's totally lost, so he sits himself down somewhere visible in the clearing, leaning back against a tree. He wracks his brain trying to think of why Bede seemed so distraught, but his mind wanders and his eyelids start to droop...

...

He jolts when he feels a hand tap his shoulder.

"Did you fall asleep? You had coffee two hours ago." Bede is looming over him with his arms now crossed impatiently.

"Bede! I thought you'd abandoned me!" Hop ignores Bede's complaining with a sunny grin, eliciting a sigh from the white-haired boy. Hop wonders if it's natural or if Bede dyes it.

"And let you get mugged by a Morgrem? Tempting, but no," Bede says, seemingly back to his usual self. He doesn't seem too bothered... wait— mugged? Hop pats his pockets, checking if he still has his wallet, which he thankfully does.

Bede is already starting to walk away, so any questions will have to wait. Hop stands, goes to walk—

And immediately eats dirt.

They'd tied his shoelaces together while he was snoozing peacefully. Is nothing sacred in this wretched place? He'll be glad to be out of here once they reach Ballonlea. He pouts deeply as he undoes the annoyingly tight knot, and ties them up again the way they should be.

"Took you long enough," Bede says flatly once Hop catches up with his now re-tied laces. They walk in silence through the labyrinthian paths of the Tangle. Hop isn't sure if he'd have ever gotten back out of this place If Bede hadn't come back for him.

Hop nervously plays with the buttons of his denim jacket. He's seen Bede angry plenty of times, but it was always in that... cold sort of way, closer to disdain than real anger. The closest he'd seen to this was in the early years whenever Bede would reach the final of a championship and then lose to Glo, but even that didn't compare to what he'd seen in the clearing.

"Err... you alright?" he eventually manages. Bede just keeps walking, looking forward and seemingly just ignoring him. A few moments pass, and Hop jolts when Bede speaks.

"Peachy," Bede eventually says, now walking slightly ahead. Hop's eyes bore into the back of his head, completely unconvinced.

"You sure? When you saw that Copperajah, you—"

Bede whirls around before Hop can finish his sentence. "Mind your own business," he says harshly, tone leaving no room for argument as he turns his heel and continues walking. Hop hangs his head as he follows. He and Bede may not be on the best of terms necassarily, but he still doesn't like seeing Bede this way.

Hop has to physically stop himself from kicking himself when he connects the dots. Rose. It was so bloody obvious!

His chest tightens. Rose... scares him, if he's being honest. He remembers how he'd held his ground against Eternatus, something that had felt like facing down the bloody apocalypse itself; but when he'd faced Rose in the Hammerlocke Energy Plant... he'd froze, leaving Gloria to fight him alone.

Something about a man that seemed so willing to kill a pair of kids in the name of progress didn't sit right with him. Shocker.

Hop chews the inside of his cheek, and wonders if Bede saw a side of Rose that even he hadn't.

They walk in silence the rest of the way back, with even the most mischievous pokémon avoiding them due to the almost visible storm cloud hanging over Bede's head. He's really buggered this up, hasn't he? He hadn't meant to dredge up bad memories for Bede. He wants to help somehow, but...

Maybe he shouldn't bother. Everything he ever does only makes things worse anyway.

They arrive back in Ballonlea and Hop only feels a bit of relief to be out of the Tangle proper. He hesitates at the entrance as Bede seems to just power on into town, seemingly silently dismissing him. Okay, he supposes he deserves that. Hop makes a move to hail a Corviknight taxi so he can just... head back to lab, he supposes.

Bede stops, turning around and silently motioning for Hop to keep following with an indecipherable expression on his face. Hop's mouth hangs open slightly, but he meekly follows. What is this about?

After a few more minutes of walking, they arrive at Bede's cottage. "Wait just a second," Bede says quietly, and enters the house. Hop shifts awkwardly in place. He wishes Bede would just talk to him, but he supposes it's never really been Bede's style.

The door opens and Hop opens his mouth to apologise or something when he's hit in the face with a small box, which thunks against his forehead. "Oi! What's your—" He examines the box. Chamomile tea? He looks up to Bede inquisitively.

"Try it. It'll help you sleep better," Bede says, a decidedly neutral look on his face.

Hop squirms, unsure how to feel. "Err... you're not angry?"

Bede hesitates, as if thinking about something. "Not at you..." he admits, then sighs. "Just... try the tea. Consider it as payment for helping me today." Bede licks his lips. "And... thank you," he adds, sounding as if the words took genuine effort to say, which they probably did.

Hop's mouth hangs open briefly, and he closes it before he makes too much of a fool of himself. "I-It's alright, mate. It was nice to learn a bit more about the Tangle anyway." It wasn't, but still. "And... I'll try the tea. Thank you," he says a little meekly.

Bede gives a small pleased nod, expression still pensive. "Let me... let me know if it helps," he says quietly.

What.

Is that... an invitation for them to talk again? Hop can't believe what he's hearing. Bede of all people just suggested they stay in touch. Hop came out of their last meeting content with the idea of being perfectly cordial with Bede, but he hadn't really expected any more that that.

And yet... a level of excitement thrums in his veins.

Bede... doesn't seem so bad. Not anymore at least. Hop hasn't really made a new friend in years, and his current ones are all either busy all the time, his boss, or running the hell away to stupid bloody islands and— uh oh, Bede is starting to scowl again.

"Uh, right! I'll do that. By texting you. On my phone. If that's... okay?" Hop says, wanting to punch himself harder in the face with every syllable.

Bede huffs, his face still resoundingly neutral looking despite everything. "Fine. Have a good rest of your day, Hop."

Hop manages a smile. He won't have a good day because he made a deal with Sonia to sort their records later today in exchange for letting him bunk off to go to Ballonlea, but maybe it won't be so bad now. "I will! See ya Bede!" he says, waving as he walks backwards away from the cottage.

Hop walks back through Ballonlea with a pep in his step, a small smile landing on his lips. Today had been... a bit of a disaster, but he thinks it might have turned out okay in the end. Bede didn't bite his head off at least. Maybe he really isn't as awful of a bloke as he'd thought. On top of that, Bede had been... kind in his weird roundabout way.

He huffs, feeling a bit embarrassed that he hadn't just believed everyone when they'd insisted Bede maybe wasn't actually a force of pure evil desperate to make him miserable.

He diligently reads the instructions on the box of tea in the Corviknight Cab back to the lab in an attempt to distract himself from the height. A part of him is dreading the rest of the day, which would have to be coffee-less for him to actually appreciate Bede's gift, but he'll push on.

He snorts to himself. A gift from Bede. What a bloody day.

As Bede shuts the door, he closes his eyes and exhales. What a disaster. He rubs his temples, and reopens his eyes, spotting Opal on the couch. She was decidedly not there when he had come in to get the tea. She says nothing, and just sips from the mug she was holding, causing Bede's eye to twitch.

"Not a word, old hag," he warns, and a cackle rings out through the cottage.

Bede never met his parents.

Not really, at least. They'd left him at the orphanage at a very young age because they apparently couldn't afford to take care of him. For a while, he'd thought that meant that one day they'd come back for him.

They did not.

He never pried too much into figuring out who they were, or what happened to them, or even if they were still alive; because they either died when he was very young or they made the conscious decision to abandon him.

In either case, they didn't matter.

It was drilled into Bede's head from an early age that he should keep himself out of trouble, be polite, and smile. Smile at the families who would come into the orphanage, smile as they pick through children like they're products at the supermarket, smile as they choose exactly one child to finally allow to live a normal life.

For a while, Bede listened. He dreamed of the day that he would be chosen, even though he had a short temper, even though his skin was always covered in plasters, even though he seemed to always say something wrong whenever one of the adults spoke to him.

The orphanage was like a revolving door. Kids would leave, plucked out by happy couples to be whisked into a loving home, and new children would arrive in equal numbers. After a few years, everyone who was originally there when Bede arrived had been adopted. Every time, they looked happier than Bede had ever seen them, gazing up adoringly at their new parents.

Bede began to hate them. He hated every couple that would arrive just to look at him and move on without a second glance before adopting someone else who had only been here for a fraction of the time he had.

After a few years, Bede realised that he was unadoptable, unlovable, and every birthday he spent alone only made it more true. Something was obviously deeply wrong with him, something rotten in his core that everyone but him could see. No one cared about him, and no one would ever care about him, so why should he care about them?

He didn't bother smiling anymore after that revelation. What was the point when it hadn't worked for years? He delighted in not even giving any of the couples a chance, because he didn't need them. Not anymore, not ever.

The other orphans didn't like him. Why would they? He knew the truth about everything, that they were the dregs of society, and he wasn't going to appease their supposed saviours when they'd never done anything for him. They obviously didn't want to hear it, but it wasn't Bede's job to coddle them.

They would pick fights, and eventually Bede started to pick them too.

One day, he was slinking by while most of the other kids were distracted by the TV, when the screen caught his eye. He saw a purple-haired teenager, his presence commanding as he spoke to the thousands of people within the stadium, as well as everyone watching him from all over Galar.

He didn't even need to see the looks in the other kids' eyes. Everyone revered the boy on the screen, respected him because of his capabilities in battle. The unbeatable champion. Bede scowled as he watched him battle against some poor bozo who clearly didn't stand a chance, his Duraludon falling beneath the might of the Champion's Charizard.

It didn't take long for Bede to figure out what he wanted.

One day, that would be him on that screen. Everyone would look at him the way they look at Champion Leon. No one would care about how he started, how he was an angry, lost boy with no parents; because he would be the Champion, and everyone loved the Champion.

Sadly the plan had an immediate hitch. He didn't even have a pokémon nor did he know how to battle with them. Months went by with little progress. Unsurprisingly, nobody really wanted to hand over a pokémon to a potentially violent child. He punched his pillow in frustration every night, desperate to think of some way out of that wretched orphanage.

Until one day, he arrived.

Bede had already heard the whispers, that the richest man in Galar was coming to the orphanage. One of them was going to be adopted by a billionaire!

Bede wasn't stupid. No billionaire was going to come here to save some pure sod and bring them into a life of comfort and luxury. It was obviously a publicity stunt, and Bede wanted no part of it.

Still, it didn't stop him from at least taking a look. He positioned himself behind the only tree in the yard, and stared.

Ultimately, he was correct. The man clearly had no intention of adopting. A camera crew followed him around as he surely spouted some bull about how things would get better as long as you believe in yourself or something.

But then, Bede froze. He watched as the man handed over a pokéball to one of the kids, giving him a small pat on the head. The boy beamed when he released his new pokémon, a Rookidee that flew happily around its new trainer.

Bede's breath quickened as he saw several more pokéballs attached to the man's belt. He needed to get one, everything hinged on it, but he didn't know how to do it. He didn't know how to suck up to an adult anymore - not that he'd ever been good at it in the first place.

So he just froze in place, watching from afar as the pokéballs on the man's belt dwindled. Tears started to flood his eyes for the first time in years. He couldn't do it, stood no chance of catching an adult's attention when put against his peers, and would likely completely shatter if he approached the man and received the same dismissive look he had seen so many times before.

He just sat out of sight behind the tree, tears streaming uncontrollably down his cheeks as he sobbed. He was worthless, freezing up when his future was almost in his grasp.

He jumped when he heard heavy footsteps approach, and quickly scrambled to wipe his wet eyes and snotty nose with his sleeve. When he looked up, a massive Copperajah loomed over him, but before he could get too scared, the rich man's kind-looking eyes met his.

"What's your name, young man?" he asks, no sign of judgement at Bede's state on his face as he crouched down. His tall height made it so that he still loomed over Bede.

Bede's voice caught in his throat, and he was unable to suppress the sob that bubbled up. "B-Bede, sir..." he eventually managed, and shrunk beneath the man's intense gaze. Bede heard him say something about turning off the cameras, and his entourage walked away, leaving them alone.

"Well, Bede, I believe this..." the man started, unclasping the final pokéball from his belt and holding it out, "Is yours."

Bede's eyes widened and his hand trembled as it gently wrapped around the ball. "Go on... let her out," the man insisted.

Bede's breath stuttered. He pressed the button on the ball, and gasped softly at the flash of white light. When his eyes readjusted, he saw a pokémon, his pokémon in front of him. The hat-like protrusion on it's head was twitching, and she had an uncomfortable look on her face as she looked to Bede. Despite her wary expression, Bede knew she was special the moment he laid eyes on her.

"This is a Hatenna," the man began, "and she can feel your emotions. See her expression?" He pointed at the Hatenna's decidedly unhappy face, and Bede pouted. Did she already not like him...?

The man chuckled. "Don't worry, you're her trainer now, but she doesn't like it when people feel so sad. You'll cheer up for her, won't you?" he said, and Bede's mouth hung open. He nodded repeatedly.

"I-I promise! I'll... I'll be happy for her," he said, voice trailing off as he carefully put out a hand to touch his Hatenna. She hesitantly leaned into it as Bede's emotions stabilised, and Bede was careful not to overstep.

He'd never felt so happy in his life.

"Thank you, sir! Uhh, Mister..." Bede trailed off. He didn't even know the man's name.

The man laughed, tilting his head as he looked back down to Bede. "Just Rose is fine."

Bede nods. "Thank you, Mister Rose," he said, and the man laughed again. Bede wasn't sure what was so funny, but he didn't mind.

Rose ruffled his hair, his chuckles continuing as he walked away, followed by the Copperajah. Bede caught the gaze of a tall woman that had been standing nearby. She approached, and wordlessly handed him a business card containing a phone number. He held the card reverently, not wanting a single crumple on it. He didn't even own a phone, but once he got one, it would be the first number he called.

The woman lingered briefly, but Bede paid her no mind, too focused on memorising the number by heart.

Shortly after, Rose began a speech. The cameras were trained on him, capturing his words and the awed expression of the other children's faces as he spoke about how anyone could become a strong trainer, and that even those here could maybe become Champion one day.

And Bede believed him.

"These will be your lodgings for the time being."

Bede looked over the flat. His flat. A home of his own without any pesky family watching over him. It wasn't big - far from it in fact. There were only two rooms and he was sure the furniture was in that perfect sweet spot where they were completely outdated without having appreciated a single cent in value.

The tall woman behind him, Oleana, spoke up again. "I trust the apartment is appropriate? Chairman Rose is very generous to have given you such spacious housing," she said, and while Bede did agree that Mr— Chairman Rose was very generous, he wouldn't quite call the place spacious.

Still, it was his, and that was more than enough.

"It'll do," Bede said, not bothering with any attempt at politeness. She wasn't the one who gave this place to him.

Oleana just sniffed, as unbothered as she'd been every other second he'd seen her.

"When will I be speaking to Chairman Rose?" Bede asked. He was unsure why he was going through his, what, his secretary?

"Chairman Rose is a busy man. He has no time to waste on—" she cleared her throat. "You will call the number on the card if, and only if you require assistance." Her number, much to Bede's disappointment the first time he'd called.

He had his own Rotom phone by now, having made a small fortune winning battles around Hammerlocke. A few months ago he had been stuck in the orphanage. Now he had his own phone and his own place to live, and it was all thanks to Chairman Rose. He wanted to thank him personally, but he supposed it would have to wait.

Oleana lingered. "You will... be able to take care of yourself, correct?" she asked, as if Bede was completely incapable of anything.

"Obviously," Bede replied tersely. He just wanted her to leave him alone.

Which she did. For now.

His days were spent going to the Hammerlocke Trainer School. It was far from entertaining, but he'd go through it as needed because Chairman Rose told him to, and was generously paying his tuition.

Battling had already become second-nature, like breathing. He didn't care about the educational side of things because he was already winning just about every battle he entered.

The other students didn't like him, which suited him just fine because he didn't like them either. They were weak, pathetic whelps who had no true passion for battling. They were just snivelling, privileged children who thought they were Arceus's gift to the world.

Bede took great pleasure in proving that they very much were not.

After his sniffling in front of Chairman Rose at the orphanage, Bede promised himself that he'd never show weakness again. It would not do for Chairman Rose's protégé to cry when things didn't go his way.

Not that he intended on things not going his way ever again.

Bede glared towards the other lunch tables. The room was filled with laughter and inane drivel. Nobody looked his way, not without frowning at least, but he didn't care; because he hadn't forgotten his original ambition.

He was going to become champion one day, and they'd have no choice but to love him and chant his name as he destroys even the strongest trainers of the region.

Oleana pestered him often, ensuring that he was eating properly and keeping up with his studies. He disliked her, didn't want to deal with her. Why was she the one who was constantly looking over him when it should have been Chairman Rose?

She'd come to his flat at one point, and Bede could tell that she'd noticed that the kitchen was still completely unused, that his fridge was empty, and that his cupboards only held snacks that were meant to keep his energy up as much as possible. Without somehow figuring out how to cook, he couldn't afford much more than that.

Oleana never said anything, but Bede noticed how a little more money went into his account each month after that. Enough for him to go through his days without a rumbling stomach at least.

After two years of suffering through the school's tedious teachings, his fourteenth birthday came and went. He didn't care about the day itself, he never had, but it was incredibly important nonetheless.

Because now he was old enough to join the Gym Challenge.

The very next week, Oleana gave him his endorsement, and a letter from Chairman Rose himself.

He read and reread it more times than he could count. Chairman Rose wanted him to collect Wishing Stars (whatever the hell they were) while journeying across Galar, and that he was trusting him and only him to do so.

The letter spoke of an upcoming energy crisis, one that would bring Galar to it's knees. Bede had seen Chairman Rose talking about it on TV, that he was working on a solution that would not only save Galar, but also give it more energy than ever before. And he needed Bede's help.

Bede did not intend to disappoint.

"Thank you," he said to Oleana. He wasn't sure why he was saying it, but...

He thinks a part of him had grown a bit fond of her.

Oleana's eyes widened slightly, before normalising to her usual neutral expression.

He went out to buy the supplies he'd need for his journey. Food, a camping kit, potions for his pokémon...

And a pink coat. It had caught his eye through the window of the Hammerlocke boutique. It was far too expensive, but...

He'd never owned anything pink before.

Bede's nails dug into his palms.

He'd approached Chairman Rose in Hulbury. Finally, they had the chance to speak! It had been two years and—

Chairman Rose didn't remember him.

Bede had seen only a faint flicker of recognition in the Chairman's eyes, before he dismissed Bede with a vague wave.

It had to be some kind of mistake. Chairman Rose must have just been lost in thought, otherwise occupied with saving Galar from itself.

But he'd felt so special when the Chairman gave him his Hatenna. How could he possibly forget...? Anger and confusion warred inside him, until he finally realised why, why he'd been forgotten.

It was because he wasn't good enough.

He'd already worked himself to the bone trying to find the Wishing Stars, but it clearly wasn't enough. He'd had nothing but success so far in the Gym Challenge, but none of it was enough.

He'd redouble his efforts from now on, trek through all of Galar until his muscles screamed for rest, train his pokémon until he was unbeatable. He wasn't going to become strong battling novice trainers. He needed to take on the real competition.

His second defeat against some rural girl in Galar Mine Two only spurred him on more. It was absolutely unacceptable, and clear proof that he was not strong enough, but every defeat he experienced along the way would only make the taste of his inevitable victory all the more sweet.

It still stung, though. To be thrashed so hard by such an unassuming girl.

Outside of the mine, he zipped up his coat as high as it could go and let out a deep sigh into the collar. It was pathetic, but... the coat had started to bring him comfort when he wasn't feeling like himself.

"Ha, I win."

Bede sneered down at the other boy, the champion's little brother no less, who was drenched in rainwater as he fell to a single knee in exhaustion, one of his hands digging into the mud. "And here I was, thinking you were going to be a real threat," Bede laughed humourlessly, "But no, you're just a pathetic, untalented boy who thought he could coast his way to the top."

The other boy... Hop, practically snarled in response. "You beat me already. There's no need to rub it in," he said, and Bede knew he was thinking far worse things than that.

Good. Let the privileged little brat feel an ounce of what he'd felt his entire life. He'd gotten everything in his life served up to him on a silver platter, surely. His pokémon, his endorsement, his entire bloody family.

Bede had worn his endorsement from the Chairman as a badge of pride, but an endorsement from the Champion? Unheard of. When he'd found out that the boy was the Champion's brother, the whole thing started to go far deeper than just competition.

"The rumours must be true then, hmm?" Bede began as adrenaline started to pump through his veins, far more potently than during their battle. "That the Champion barely ever bothers to actually go home? It's quite clear he hasn't actually taught you a thing." Bede's lips curled into a cruel smirk. "Did he send his endorsement in the post?"

A splatter of mud was sent sailing towards Bede, and he barely managed to block it with his arm. It still ruined his coat, though.

Hop took a step towards him. "You keep my brother's name... out of your bloody mouth if you know what's good for you," he'd seethed, and Bede saw the sheer fury in his eyes, the hatred as tears clearly pricked at his eyes. Something terrible sung within Bede's chest - satisfaction at finally being on the other side of things.

He did his best to ignore the feeling of bile burning in his throat.

Bede let out a "hm," and turned away before stopping. "You should keep in mind that people talk," he said. "The Champion wouldn't want his good name to get tarnished by your... embarrassing performance, would we?"

Half of it was desire to get one of his strongest competitors, if not the strongest competitor out of his way. It's not as if the boy had no potential.

The other half was genuine advice. Bede knew how important it was to not drag your mentor down with you in your failures.

He knew how important it was.

After that, Bede walked away, and wondered if the things he'd said were directed towards Hop, or himself.

Bede retched into the toilet bowl, hands trembling. She'd set him up, made him look a fool in front of Chairman Rose and the entirety of Galar.

"Take the Chairman's pokémon," Oleana had said, handing a pokéball over. "It is believed that the mural in Stow-on-Side is hiding something. Chairman Rose wants to know what it is."

Bede had sniffed, but deep down, he was excited to have been trusted with what was clearly a special assignment. Said excitement skyrocketed when Oleana had spoken again.

"Do this, and the Chairman will want to meet with you."

Finally, Bede would get the recognition he'd deserved! He'd finally get to meet, really meet the man that— that...

That saved him.

So he did as he was told. Oleana had technically never said she wanted the mural destroyed, but he could read between the lines. He did what he did for Chairman Rose, and for Galar's future.

And now he had nothing.

He'd been disqualified from the Gym Challenge, his bank account had been locked, and he was sure his flat wasn't his anymore either.

His grip on the toilet bowl tightened. He'd trusted her. He'd trusted Oleana and she just... lied in front of everyone. How stupid was he to possibly think that she was pestering him out of care in her heart?

He realised then, in the Hammerlocke train station's bathroom, that he'd been a pawn all along. Her pawn. She must have taken the credit for everything he did, that must have been why Chairman Rose didn't know who he was until it was convenient for her plan.

He sobbed uncontrollably in the stall, hoping against hope that nobody would come in. He let Hattrem out of her ball, even though he knew how much she hated seeing him like this.

But she didn't get upset. He could tell how much his crying was hurting her, but he just couldn't stop. Not until she sat in his lap, and allowed him to hold her.

Bede inhaled in, and out. He knew he was better than this, that this was just a minor setback. All he needed to do was tell Chairman Rose the truth about what had happened, and he'd be reinstated into the Gym Challenge.

Things weren't over. They couldn't be.

He pulled himself together and looked in the mirror. He looked a wreck, but he couldn't do much about it without some concealer. Which he couldn't afford anymore.

He walked back out to Hammerlocke's streets to go...

Well, he wasn't sure where he was supposed to go. He didn't know where Chairman Rose was and his flat wasn't his anymore, so... he supposed he'd have to just camp out in the Wild Area.

He saw the rural girl again, though what caught his eye was the old woman behind her, staring him down.

Red and purple streaked across the sky. The ground quaked from the footsteps of dynamaxed wild pokémon. Bede didn't understand what was happening, only that Rose was responsible, that this had been his plan with the Wishing Stars all along.

And that he had helped Rose achieve it.

Bede just watched as the world ended, an apocalypse he was partly responsible for.

He just watched.

"Ah, well, I digress. One day, when I'm released, I plan to make things right. Truly make Galar great, for the people and—"

Bede jumps when the screen cuts to black, whipping his head to see Opal holding the remote.

"We will not have his rubbish in our house," she declares. "It would not take me much convincing to throw that box away if you keep this up," she adds, and Bede knows that isn't true. The old bat would keel over if she missed a single episode of her favourite soap opera.

"It was just on the screen. I wasn't paying attention to it..." he mumbles, lying straight through his teeth.

Rose is in prison. For nearly destroying the entire world. Bede isn't quite sure why he's getting interviewed on live fucking TV.

Bede relaxes the fist he hadn't realised he'd been clenching, and watches the blood slowly return to his knuckles.

He doesn't idolise Rose anymore. He's a maniac who should be locked up for the rest of his life, a glory hound who was willing to kill who knows how many people in order to solve a problem that wouldn't need to be solved for a thousand years. All that, just so he would be the one who gets the credit.

And apparently preyed on orphans to do his dirty work, because there's no one in this world more invisible than an unlovable orphan like him.

Bede hopes Rose is never released, doesn't know what he'd do in a world where Rose can roam free, a world where he'd surely have to face Rose since he'd surely insert himself back into the League and—

His breath catches in his throat, his spiral only slowing when he feels the forced pleasant thoughts pumping into his mind. He wants to lash out, wants to push Sylveon away from him. He shouldn't be like this, shouldn't need this like some addict—

"Breathe," Opal says.

Bede closes his eyes and allows the feelings to wash over him. He sees when he touched his Hatenna for the first time. He sees when his Hattrem first allowed him to truly hold her. He sees when Hatterene started to return his hugs, as begrudging as it would sometimes be.

He sees the times when Gloria would come into the locker room to check up on him after his losses. He sees when Raihan would laugh and wrap an arm around his shoulders, and how he would lean into it more than he would ever admit. He sees the warm, cosy evenings he and Opal would spend taking turns insulting the idiotic actions of the people on the TV screen.

And he breathes.

"Better," Opal says, now sat to his left on the sofa. "We do not allow men like him to affect us, especially not from across the region." Her tone is chastising, but Bede knows what she's saying. He's better than this, and they both know it.

He doesn't want to let Rose or Oleana affect him anymore.

"No. We don't," Bede agrees simply, and allows Opal to guide him to their kitchen table. He scratches idly at Sylveon's ears underneath his chair.

Opal lets out a pleased sounding hum. "Which tea would you like?" Opal asks as she approaches the kettle, because no tea is never an option.

"Uh... chamomile please." He still feels a bit frazzled, and it'll take the edge off. Hopefully.

Opal hums an off-key tune to herself, purposefully off-key for sure. Bede sighs, looking to the door to his bedroom.

He still has that coat in his wardrobe. Despite everything, he's never been able to get rid of it. Even though it obviously doesn't fit anymore, and that it always reminds of him of worse times.

He... supposes Hatterene can be the same, sometimes. He hates it, absolutely hates it, but sometimes he can't look at her without thinking of him. But she's his pokémon. His first pokémon.

And he'd sooner die than allow Rose to ruin that for him.

Maybe he doesn't want to forget, despite everything. Forgetting would mean absolving himself of his own involvement. He can blame Rose all he likes, but all of his decisions were his own.

And he's not sure if he'll ever truly be able to make up for them.

The coat will remain as a reminder of the boy he once was. And if he sometimes holds it, seeking the comfort it once gave him, well...

That isn't anyone else's business, is it?

Bede sighs softly to himself as Opal begins to pour the tea. She's... old these days. If he's being honest, she's been old for a while. It makes him feel bad when she does things for him that he could easily just do himself.

But the selfish part of him knows that tea always tastes better when she makes it, so he lets her.

Fairy-type pokémon are incredibly unique, in Hop's opinion. Which, to be fair, also applies to just about every other typing out there, but it's the fairy-types that have captured his attention recently. If he's being honest, it's a bit of a blind spot in his learning, which is completely a coincidence and has absolutely nothing to do with past experiences.

Fine. He has a bit of a grudge. So what?

In either case, it wouldn't do for a (hopeful) future pokémon professor to hold such a grudge, so off to the books he went. Fairy types were first officially identified in Kalos, though they've undeniably been around for a long time. The Glimwood Tangle is clearly ancient, and the fairy type influence there is undeniable.

Ancient Galarian is hard to read on a good day, but he's fairly certain Hammerlocke's mortal enemy throughout history is none other than Ballonlea, if perhaps under a different name. Hop makes a mental note to ask Sonia about it, since she's become the de-facto expert on Galarian history over the last few years, on top of being a pokémon professor.

Sonia is incredibly cool, in Hop's opinion. When she isn't picking on him.

Anyway, fairy types are far from a recent development - just a recent discovery. A few years ago, it was as if they'd all collectively decided to reveal their true nature at once all over the world. The papers he'd read were downright enthralling and he'd wondered what exactly it was that connected all of these pokémon together; other than their strengths and weaknesses in battle, of course.

It was easy for him to conclude that the answer was a penchant for mischief since their ability to be utter little shits is unrivalled, but that clearly isn't it. Sylveon are a shining example of fairy types that are definitely not mischievous. They're calm, kind, and are experts at preventing conflict - the complete opposite of an Impidimp.

After further research, Hop realised that fairy types all connect to the emotions of others, and are very adept at detecting and understanding them. Sylveon enjoy feelings of peace and calm, Alcremie enjoy feelings of joy and happiness, and Impidimp enjoy feelings of shame and embarrassment.

Or in other words, Impidimp are such bastards because they like to get a rise out of him.

Since Sonia gave him a right thrashing when he came back to the lab without any samples from the Glimwood Tangle, Hop finds himself back there once again. It's not so bad there once you sacrifice a bit of your dignity and act all dramatic at the smallest prank the Impidimp commit. That way, they get the reaction they want, and he doesn't get tormented until he's crying in a tree stump.

He should really properly meet Bede's Sylveon one day. Fairy types still have some rehabilitation to do, and she seems sweet enough to do so single-handedly.

It's been a long morning of sample collecting, and Hop is knackered. He wants to curl up on the sofa and watch some of Lee or Glo's old matches or something. But alas, he's technically still on the clock, and he'll be back to lab work the second he's back in Wedgehurst. He sighs dramatically as he enters Ballonlea, but then he gets a thought. Sonia doesn't need to know that he's finished yet, so he could... hang around a bit longer.

He's not slacking, he's just having a bit of a break.

Hop wonders if Bede is free right now. They've actually texted a bit since the whole mess a few weeks ago, even if Bede's messages are a bit dry.

Okay, they're very dry, but Hop knows Bede wouldn't respond at all if he didn't want to, so he has to be doing something right, especially since Glo had looked at him as if he was nuts when he'd mentioned the fact that he and Bede had been texting. Bede doesn't text anyone, apparently. She's one of the rare people that Bede'll speak to over the phone, but he's apparently adamantly against texting.

So he really must be doing something right.

He rounds a corner too quickly, bumping into a mass of purple and tumbling backwards. When he opens his eyes again, he sees Opal's face looming over him. How she'd managed to practically deflect him when she looks so frail is beyond him.

"L-Lady Opal! I'm so sorry!" He's not entirely sure why he's apologising when he clearly took the brunt of it, but Hop prides himself on being a polite, young man.

"Nonsense!" Opal starts, "Perhaps I should not have been standing here, hm?" She winks, then holds out a hand and before Hop can even reject it he's pulled up with far more strength than befits Opal's stature. "So what is a young, strapping pokémon professor like you doing in our corner of the woods then, hmm?"

"Err... m'not quite a professor yet, Lady Opal." Hop mumbles. He has no idea how to speak to her. She always seems so... otherworldly. "And I'm... I'm doing research on the Glimwood Tangle!" he says far too loudly as he straightens his posture. He suddenly feels like he's trespassing, ready for punishment from the ancient Lady of the forest.

Don't call her ancient, Hop.

Opal lets out a long, drawn out "hmm..." before turning up her nose slightly. "There's much to learn about the Glimwood Tangle, young man, and much of it would not be found under a microscope." Hop's cheeks redden, feeling thoroughly dressed down. "But do keep me updated on the results, eh?" she adds with a wink, which calms his nerves a little.

"I-I will Lady Opal, don't you worry!" Oh no, he's going to have to learn how to post a package, isn't he...?

Opal approvingly before whacking Hop's leg with her cane. "And stop calling me 'Lady', it makes me feel old. You don't call Raihan a 'Lord', do you?" Hop cringes internally. He'll definitely never do that in a million years, no matter how technically true it is. You couldn't pay him to give Raihan the ego boost.

"No Ms Opal, sorry Ms Opal..." he mumbles.

"Now... if you could be so kind as to do an old crone like me a favour..." Opal procures a small box from her cloak (how did it even fit in there...?) and hands it over to Hop. "Could you deliver this to Bede? My legs aren't quite what they used to be," she says, and Hop definitely doesn't disagree with that. He nearly lost his mind once stuck behind Opal in a hallway as she walked at negative miles per hour.

At least he seems to have an excuse to visit Bede now. He nods. "Yes, I can do that." He looks at the box. It's very ornate, with intricate carvings in the hardwood depicting trees and vines and mushrooms and pokémon in such detail that they can be easily identified at a glance. It looks...

Expensive.

"Oh yes, do be dreadfully careful. The contents are very fragile. If you shook it just a bit they'd probably shatter," Opal muses aloud, a thoughtful finger on her chin. What little colour remains in Hop's face drains immediately. He's not qualified for this. He's shattered two test tubes this week already.

Opal looks at him expectantly. "Well, chop chop!" She pointedly taps her cane into the cobblestone below. "I'm sure you don't have all day!" she crows.

Hop squeaks and scampers away as quickly as he dares as Opal smacks him with her cane. He keeps his eyes trained on the box in his hands. Don't drop it, don't drop it...

After a few more near misses with the locals, Hop shuffles his feet into the stadium and asks one of the trainers where Bede's office is. After getting lost once or twice, no he's not like Lee, he manages to find it. He hesitates, before giving the door two taps with his foot. He's not risking dropping the box by using his hands.

"Come in," Hop hears a tired sounding voice from inside. He blinks. How is he going to...?

He grips the box carefully, using his foot to open the door, and immediately takes in Bede's dishevelled appearance. Well, not that dishevelled since it's Bede and he'd probably manage to look put-together while wading through a bog in the Wild Area, but he catches the bags under Bede's eyes that he'd clearly tried to conceal.

"You look like shit." The words tumble out of Hop's mouth before he can stop them and he instinctively slaps a hand over his mouth as if it would somehow put the words back in. Idiot! Fix it! "I-I mean—" he splutters. There isn't really a nice way of wording it. Bede looks like he's barely slept, even if he's done his best to hide it. Bede just looks up, the tiniest smirk on his face, seemingly more entertained by Hop's plight than offended by his words.

"I feel fine, thank you for your concern," he says, interpreting Hop's statement very generously. See? Bede isn't so bad. Top notch bloke when he wants to be. Still, Hop's red cheeks and flustered expression remain as he just stands there awkwardly.

"Are you going to tell me why you've come all the way here? Or was it just to slag me off?" Bede says, sounding deathly serious, but before Hop's face can turn completely white he catches the smirk Bede is trying to suppress as he keeps his eyes on whatever he's writing. Phew.

Wait, the box!

"Well... I was in town anyway 'cause Sonia wanted some samples from the Tangle. Then I uhh... ran into Ms Opal." He places the box onto the desk, almost reverent in his care. He did it! He managed to safely deliver what is clearly some one-of-a-kind family heirloom, a deeply important, ancient, possibly magical artifact. Who knows what's inside that box?

"Oh. Thank you. I appreciate you delivering it. I hadn't realised the time." The time? What does that have to do with anything? Bede drags the box towards himself. He unlatches it, and opens the lid with nowhere near the care Hop would expect and pulls out...

A wrapped up... sandwich.

That's what he'd spent so much care and meticulousness delivering? A bloody packed lunch? This has to be a mistake. Lady Opal would never do this. "Wh— Lady- Ms Opal told me that I had to be incredibly careful carrying that!"

Bede hums, laying out the food in an organised manner. A sandwich, a pecha berry (who eats pecha berries?), and a yoghurt. "I'd hope so. Wouldn't want anything out of order, would we?"

Everyone in this town is crazy. Why does Bede have his packed lunch delivered to him in a bloody coffer? Lady Opal is practically royalty, surely she has better things to do than— Why does Bede look like he can barely hold himself together?

Suddenly, it clicks. Bloody fairy types.

Hop frowns. "Ha ha. Very funny. Did the two of you plan this or what?" He can't believe he's been pranked.

"No, no, this was all the old hag's doing," Bede says casually. Hop winces at the words. Prankster or not, Lady Opal is still a dignified old— err, spritely young lady.

Hop's eyes land on the box once again. "Why exactly do you use a box that looks like it belongs in the Hammerlocke Vault as a lunch box exactly?" It just seems insane. Wait, is Bede rich?

Bede's nose crinkles in disgust. "It absolutely does not belong anywhere near Raihan's hoard, thank you very much." He takes a dainty bite of his sandwich. "It's from the Ballonlea gift shop."

Hop's jaw drops. "So it's tat?! But it looks so expensive!"

Bede practically preens on behalf of whoever made it. "We have standards, that's why. And it's not tat, even if it's for tourists. We're better than that," he practically scolds. Hop feels scolded at least.

"Still... a bit unwieldy for a lunchbox, innit?"

Bede shrugs. "Opal chose it, and she insists on delivering it every day. I keep telling her it isn't necessary and that if she falls her bones would probably all shatter on impact, but she's stubborn. Something about tradition," he says. It sounds... pretty nice, if Hop is being honest. Despite his words he can tell Bede appreciates her effort. He's always struggled a bit to imagine what their dynamic is like, since Bede wasn't exactly talkative to him at all until recently.

They chat casually as Hop decides to eat his own lunch too. Things feel weirdly... comfortable? He can't believe he's in Ballonlea eating his lunch with Bede of all people, but... they're friends now, aren't they?

Not one for subtlety, ever, at any point in his life, Hop decides to ask.

"Are we friends?" His words are muffled by the food in his mouth, and he withers under Bede's chastising gaze. Still, Bede seems to at least consider the idea as he thinks silently.

"I suppose," Bede says anticlimactically. Huh, that was easy. Hop thought he'd have to put up more of a fight. He doesn't really know what to say now.

"Okay." Hop just grins. He hasn't made a new friend in years, which is a bit embarrassing now that he's thinking about it. He's busy, okay? And both Postwick and Wedgehurst are granny central.

They continue their lunch in silence, Hop's feet tapping happily under his side of the desk. His eyes wander around the room. It seems... a bit empty? Not really what he'd expect from Bede's office. "Not much of a decorator, then?" Hop winces at his wording. There are probably a nicer way of saying that. Bede looks confused so Hop gestures vaguely around himself and Bede shrugs his shoulders.

"It's where I work. I don't need to waste my time making it homely when I only do the most boring parts of my job in here," he explains, and Hop supposes it makes sense. He doesn't really have his own office, at least not yet, but he does have a desk that's... mostly his, and he still decorates it with a few knick-knacks here and there.

Hop's eyes wander over the papers strewn over Bede's desk, noticing the League's symbol on one of them. He supposes it makes sense that there'd be correspondence between Bede and the League but actual letters just seem a bit ridiculous to him at this point. He tries to spin it around to read it but Bede grabs it before he can.

"Friends or not, I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to read my letters." Bede fixes him with a glare that makes Hop wince, though what catches his attention more is the flicker of what Hop could swear is a glimmer of panic in Bede's eyes.

He takes the letter and places it in a drawer, out of sight. "Busy yourself with the rest if you must, though," he says, seemingly back to normal so quickly that it makes Hop question if he'd seen anything at all.

Hop wants to ask, but it's probably an express ticket to getting on Bede's bad side again, so he doesn't.

He looks over the other papers on the desk, since Bede had given him permission. Wait, that was permission, right? He keeps sneaking glances towards Bede to check if it's fine but Bede is just busying himself on his computer.

"You're planning a festival?" Hop asks. The papers include a map of the biggest square in Ballonlea with an arrangement of stalls, records of local business owners, some financial stuff...

Bede jolts slightly. "For the Gym Challenge. Opal only fully retired a couple years ago, so I don't have... terribly much experience running things still," Bede explains.

"Makes sense. Probably best to not trust a fourteen-year-old with that much money and responsibility."

Bede huffs, running a hand through his hair. "Honestly, it feels like too much money and responsibility even now." He looks... anxious.

"You worried about it?" Hop asks. Bede has the same look on his face as he had at the barbecue. Which, frankly, is the look of someone who looks like they might vomit.

Bede looks like he's going to argue before faltering. "A bit," he admits. "I'm not sure how to make it... special." Hop isn't sure how special it needs to be. Ballonlea is weird enough on it's own in his opinion. "Opal always went the extra mile and made sure Ballonlea's festival was a cut above in some way. I've... struggled to match that so far."

Hop winces internally. He'd heard that the Ballonlea festival had been a bit of a dud in the last two years. He supposes that's when Bede took over planning it from Opal. Thinking back on his own Gym Challenge, he remembers being pretty miserable at the time but the whole... 'play' gimmick was pretty cool. Even if he had absolutely no patience for it at the time. There most definitely is not a universe where Lady Opal chose him as her successor. He thinks he managed to get every single question wrong.

"Well... what sort of stuff did Opal do when she was running things?" Hop asks. Couldn't Bede just... tap into that?

Bede types on his keyboard, eventually turning the screen towards Hop. "It's always a whole... thing," Bede says as Hop looks at the screen. He sees photos of Ballonlea where the whole town has been turned into a maze, and another where it's blanketed in such a thick, pink fog you can barely see five feet in front of you, which... unsurprisingly isn't actually a very good photo. He shivers when he sees the photo where the streets are filled with hordes of Impidimp. He's sure they're trained, but still. In either case, he's starting to understand the picture.

Quite literally all of this stuff seems bloody impossible without literal magic.

Bede sighs. "She won't tell me how she pulled any of it off. Something about wanting me to do what I want to do, but..." He trails off, his shoulders tensing and a look of what Hop can only call dread landing on his face.

"Err... you alright?" Hop asks. Bede's eyes widen slightly and he does his best to recompose himself.

"It's nothing." Hop opens his mouth to argue, but Bede barrels on. "I just need to figure out something that'll at least elevate what I have. The festival is mostly planned out, but it's just... missing something." Bede sighs and begins massaging his temples. "I've been cooped up here all morning just... thinking. I don't want to just copy Opal. I'm not... like her."

Hop couldn't really disagree with Bede's statement - he isn't like Opal, but that doesn't need to be a bad thing. He chooses his words carefully.

"No... I don't think you're like Opal either, but... you're you. You're... elegant. Determined, unyielding. And pretty scary when you want to be, honestly," he chokes out. So much for choosing his words carefully. He turns over a piece of paper that Bede probably doesn't need and grabs a pen. "I think you're pretty cool so I'm sure we can think of something doable."

Bede just stares back silently, then breaks eye contact. He lets out a huff and runs a hand through his hair, a small laugh escaping his lips. "You really are just as nice as everyone always says you are, aren't you?" he says, with a little too much incredulity in his tone for Hop's tastes.

"You don't have to sound so gobsmacked," Hop pouts. Did Bede seriously believe he was just secretly evil this whole time? Ridiculous. Okay, maybe he'd also thought the same for Bede until recently but it feels a bit more justified.

"Still, your help shouldn't be necessary. I'll figure it out eventually, I'm sure," Bede says, not sounding sure at all.

Hop frowns in response to that. "It's really not much, mate. It's just a bit of thinking." Bede hums, decidedly looking towards the window as he leans his face on his palm.

"Maybe. But it's not the only time you've helped," Bede says quietly, looking borderline guilty. Hop tilts his head. The Tangle? He supposes that had been a bit more effort, but still. He was happy to help.

"You already thanked me for that. And gave me tea as a gift for it." That was enough thanking for what ended up an easier job than he'd expected anyway.

Bede just lets out an exhale. "Fine," he concedes. "How's the tea treating you, anyway? Sleeping better?" he asks. Hop definitely has been sleeping better, and while he wouldn't say he has a taste for the stuff, the tea is far more palatable than he'd expected, so he nods.

"It's... relaxing. It's like when I drink it, my brain thinks it's time for bed," he says, then shrugs. "Better than drinking coffee at 10pm at least."

"Why were you—" Bede pinches his nose, deciding to just not bother asking; which is good because Hop isn't sure he knows the answer himself either.

They sit in silence for a while, Hop wracking his brain to think of some idea for the festival. Something that suits Bede, and is physically possible without the use of weird fairy magic...

"What about a masquerade?" he suggests. Bede purses his lips, but Hop catches the way his eyebrows raise in interest.

"A masquerade?" Bede echoes. "With... masks?"

Hop jumps up from his seat and starts to pace left and right. "Yeah! Like, masks and secret identities and stuff! And really posh clothes," he says with a nod. It's perfect, in Hop's opinion, a mix of Bede's tastes and Ballonlea's... mystery.

"The idea is... adequate," Bede says, his shoulders relaxing in a way Hop hadn't realised they could. He just thought Bede was like that. "Thank you."

Hop scratches his neck awkwardly. He's not used to people sounding so genuinely appreciative, and not only that, it's Bede saying it. "S'not a big deal. Happy to help." It's just a suggestion, after all. Still, his cheeks heat up slightly.

Bede gives him a funny look, before letting out a small sigh. "It's a big deal for me. I'd been losing sleep over it." Ah, so that's what the eyebags are about.

Hop snickers. "Looks like I'm the one who gets to lecture you on your sleep schedule now."

Bede puffs up his cheeks into a small pout. "It wasn't a lecture, it was friendly advice."

"Oh? And was it friendly advice every time you've said I have a rubbish haircut and no fashion sense?"

"I didn't—" Bede stops, suddenly looking guilty. He clears his throat and looks away, and they fall into a brief silence. "I never intended to come across that way."

Hop starts to chew the inside of his cheek. He hadn't actually meant to make Bede feel bad, but he is still curious why Bede was a dick to him for so long. "So, uhh..." he clears his throat, "What did you mean then?"

Bede scowls, and oh, it's been a bit since Hop's seen that, then sighs. "I was trying to... connect with you. Poorly."

"By saying my haircut was shite?" Hop can't help but tease him a little. The idea of Bede's insults being an attempt to bridge the gap between them is too funny. Bede groans into his hands.

"I just said they were poor attempts. I thought maybe you'd appreciate the advice," Bede says, as if Hop is the weird one here.

"So the whole time, you just wanted to give me a makeover?" Hop says, wiggling his eyebrows. He splutters when he sees the sheepish expression on Bede's face because oh Arceus, that really is it. "Wha— really?!" He can't stop himself from giggling at the idea that Bede had just wanted to take him bloody shopping this entire time.

"Oh, bugger off." Bede hisses. "Don't let it get to your head. You have an... interesting face, which is thoroughly wasted on such... simple attire." Bede's words aren't terribly dissimilar to his comments from before, but Hop feels like he can understand them a bit better than he could before.

He decides to ignore the part about his face apparently being "interesting" because his brain can't process that right now.

Hop considers the idea. The idea of a makeover sounds like... hell on earth, if he's being honest. He remembers how Gloria and especially Victor lost their mind at the boutiques in Motostoke, coming out in styles Hop had never even imagined on them. They'd encouraged Hop to do the same but he'd never understood the point.

He likes his clothes. They're comfy and warm and, well... they make him feel safe. But Bede actually knows fashion and a lot of what he wears looks pretty comfy too, so...

"Okay."

"Wh— huh?" Bede splutters out, and Hop relishes in how undignified he looks. "What do you mean 'okay?'"

Hop shrugs. "I'll let you take me shopping or something one day. Try to fix my simple clothes." Bede's cheeks visibly redden, and he frowns as if Hop just said an inappropriate joke.

"You don't have to. Gloria has told me a million times to leave your fashion sense alone," Bede says, and oh so he would get scolded after their arguments too, huh?

"I really don't mind. As long as you take how I feel about things into consideration."

Bede's expression turns indignant. "Of course your feelings are going to be taken into consideration. Making the person feel comfortable is the entire point." He upturns his nose, clearly offended at the implication. Hop wonders if he's done this sort of thing before.

"Alright, alright. I'll trust you." Hop's hands come out in a soothing motion. Bede goes to say something, but Hop's phone rings. And rings. It's Sonia. Shit. How long has he been here?

Hop answers the phone. "Hi, Sonia!" he chirps, doing his best to sound as innocent as possible. He can practically hear her eyes narrow over the phone.

"How's the sample collecting going? Having trouble?" she asks, and the implication is clear as day. He should be long finished by now, and he hasn't even updated her for hours.

"Hello Professor Sonia," Bede speaks up, and Hop glares daggers at him. He's supposed to be in the Tangle! Not with Bede!

"Oh, Bede's with you? Put me on speaker!" Hop begrudgingly does so, maintaining his glare as he presses the button with more force than was necessary. "So, how's your day been?"

"Err, well—"

"Not you! Bede!"

"Hmm... adequate, so far. Despite the company," Bede says, giving Hop a small smirk. Bastard.

"Good, good... so you're helping Hop in the Tangle?" Sonia asks. Hop grins. Yes! He's been given an out.

"Oh, no, we've been sitting in my office for the last hour or so," Bede says, and Hop's jaw hits the floor. He's never been betrayed this hard in his entire life. It takes everything in him to not tackle Bede to the floor.

"Hop! You're supposed to be on the clock right now!" Sonia says, as if she shouldn't be used to this by now. Hop splutters incoherently, something Bede apparently finds very funny, based on his snickering.

"Apologies, Sonia. He was just helping me with something, and he was very helpful," Bede says, making Hop's jaw hit the floor for the opposite reason. Sonia sighs.

"Well, as long as he's been helping you, it's fine. Though, I'd appreciate it if you let me know the next time you nick my assistant," she says, almost teasingly? Which is weird, because it's not as if they're really friends, right?

"Yes Professor, sorry Professor," Bede says unrepentantly. Okay, this is weird. He's never seen these people interact in his life and yet here they are, talking like old friends. Before he can even get a word in, Sonia speaks again.

"Right, well, speaking of my assistant, I'd appreciate him back now so he can help me with an experiment before the day is over," Sonia says, the tone in her voice making it clear that it's not actually Bede she's speaking to.

"B-be right there!" Hop finally speaks up, and promptly hangs up. He glares at Bede, who holds a self-satisfied smirk on his lips. Hop knows he can't complain, since Bede did get him mostly out of trouble, though he's also the one who got him into trouble in the first place.

"Best get going, Mr Assistant," Bede drawls, looking like a smug Purrloin. Hop brushes him off.

"Yeah, yeah... I'll... text you later, okay?" Hop says, and Bede's expression softens into something more genuine. He sighs, shaking his head.

"Alright. Thank you again for the help."

Something flutters in Hop's chest. He's not sure if he'll ever get used to Bede being so... sincere.

"Right... it's no trouble."

The experiment didn't end up taking long, and Sonia allowed Hop to go home early. She'd kept smirking at him for some reason, so he was glad to be out of there. He wishes people would just use their words around him a bit more and stop giving him looks that he's not sure if he's supposed to understand or not.

He happily puts his thoughts about his stupid boss to the back of his mind and spends the night sending photos of Dubwool to Bede, and practically squealing in delight when he gets sent photos of Sylveon in return.

Sunlight filters gently between the blinds, rousing Hop gently from his sleep. He lets out a soft exhale. Today is his day off, and he doesn't plan on doing anything today. Nothing productive, at least. Once he's up, he's sure he won't be able to keep still, but until that moment comes he'll blissfully enjoy the rays of the morning sun on his face as he gets a few more minutes in.

That is, he does... until he feels a presence.

Hop can sense the eyes on him, an uncomfortable feeling that sits in his chest and his very soul. He remembers feeling like this for the first time at the Watchtower Ruins outside of Motostoke, his first real experience with ghost pokémon. He remembers the unnerving feeling of the ghastly watching him, and how he'd ran away with a scream to find Gloria.

He tries to ignore the sensation, but it's impossible. He's completely unable to shake the feeling of being watched, even though there isn't supposed to be anyone here. Mum doesn't enter his bedroom unannounced.

Is he cursed? He must be. He'd dared to have a good night's sleep for once and whatever spirit it is that's haunting him must want vengeance, must want repentance for his crimes. This is all Bede's fault, him and his stupid bloody tea and his—

"Rise and shine, Hopscotch!"

Hop lets out a strangled sound, bundling up the blankets in front him like a barrier as he pushes himself back against the backboard. Instead of a Haunter like he'd been expecting, he sees a far worse sight.

"Lee!" he whines, "What's your bloody problem?"

Lee is just stood there, in his bedroom, doing his stupid champion pose, and has the audacity to look confused. "Uhh... no problem? Just waking up my precious little brother so that we can have a champion time for the day...?" He keeps holding the pose, but his posture loosens just a bit.

Hop scowls. "You can't say that anymore, you haven't been champion in years."

Lee deflates even harder, still kinda holding the pose. "Well, Master-of-the-Battle-Tower Time doesn't really have the same ring to it does it?"

"Can you really call yourself that when Glo mops the floor with you every time she goes there?" Hop knows he's being harsh, but he doesn't care. His quiet morning has been thoroughly ruined.

Lee winces, finally dropping the pose to clutch his chest dramatically. "Ah... slain by my brother... never before have I felt such betrayal..."

Hop grumbles, rubbing his eyes sleepily. It's too early for this. He lets Lee whinge to himself for a bit as he gets out of bed before kicking him out of the room so he can get his life together. His morning rituals are in tatters as he rushes to shower and brush his teeth before throwing on the first T-shirt and bottoms he finds. When he exits his bedroom, he can hear the sounds of pots clanging downstairs.

He needs to get down there before Lee starts a fire.

Hop finds his brother already sat at the table, a bowl of cereal in front of him and another on the other side. Phew, no fire hazard at least, though he isn't sure how he'd managed to make such a bloody racket making cereal. Lee beams at him, or rather... he beams at his shirt?

Hop glances down, realising that the first thing he'd grabbed was a pyjama shirt with Lee and his Charizard on the front. His cheeks start to burn and he almost goes to say whatever he can to save face, but... maybe he's shat on his brother enough for one morning already.

Hop instead just takes a seat across from him, looking around awkwardly before narrowing his eyes slightly. "So... what's the occasion?" Lee doesn't just... turn up like this. Even in his post-champion career, his visits are always planned out in advance since he's always so busy. "Argued with Raihan again?"

Leon straightens his back instantly. "What? No. We don't do that. Ever," he says, which is a lie even if it's never that deep. Most of the time it's just them taking sides when their pokémon argue. "I just wanted to visit my little baby brother since we barely got to chat at the barbecue!" he grins, sounding convincing enough when he says that at least.

"And who's fault was that? You just battled Glo all evening," Hop accuses, and Leon at least has the decency to look guilty, scratching the back of his neck.

"I lost track of time!" Leon complains, before placing his forehead against the table. "I still can't believe it... the Unbeatable Champion, beaten over and over by a small child..."

"She's twenty."

"Exactly!"

Hop sighs and pinches his nose. When Leon lifts his head back up, he looks like a kicked Yamper. "I... really am sorry, Hop."

Hop jolts slightly. He hadn't really expected that to come out of Lee's mouth. What's he even apologising for anyway? For not talking much the last month? For not being around much at all, pretty much ever in his childhood? Ultimately, both of those things come down to one thing - Lee's love of battling, which is something Hop would never dare to try to take away from him. He exhales softly.

"It's alright. You're here now, aren't you?" He hadn't really realised that it'd bothered him, but it had a bit. He loves Lee, and it did suck a bit that he'd spent the entire barbecue battling with Glo.

Leon lets out a heavy sigh of relief and takes Hop's hand, bowing his head. "Thank you, oh generous Hop, legendary Wolf Tamer, saviour of Galar—"

"Alright, cut it out!" Hop splutters, swiping back his hand. Nobody else has called him Wolf Tamer for years. It was a moniker given to both him and Gloria by the press after the Second Darkest Day. It didn't really stick, especially since his media presence is... practically non-existent by now, but Lee's never really dropped it.

Hop lets out a soft sigh. It is nice to see Lee now that the early-morning grouchiness is starting to wear off. "So where actually is Raihan, then? You're usually like two Dreepy in a Dragapult."

A whistle from around the corner and Raihan is peeking his head in from the living room. "Heya, kiddo!" He gives a one handed wave.

"Rai!" Leon whines, "you're interrupting our special one-on-one brother bonding time!"

"I'm not hiding in your living room when my favourite brother-in-law is just around the corner!"

Hop frowns at that. "I'm not your brother-in-law yet," he insists, giving Raihan a piercing glare. They've been together for years now, and they still aren't married. Raihan puts up a hand in surrender before sauntering into the kitchen with his own bowl of cereal, which he'd apparently been shovelling into his gob around the corner the entire time. And eavesdropping for sure.

Why are there always theatrics with these two?

Hop lets Raihan guide the conversation while he finishes his breakfast, not like there's much choice when he's around. He swipes along his Pokégram profile, and Hop's eyes glaze over as he pretends that he hasn't already seen it all because Raihan always acts like a Sobble if you take the wind out of his sails.

"Oh, and Bede and I did a photoshoot together yesterday!" Raihan says, and that catches Hop's attention. He cringes when his chair audibly scrapes along the kitchen tile when he shifts it forward for a better look.

He sees Raihan giving a full teeth smile, contrasted against Bede's practiced smirk. Raihan has a tendency to overpower whoever he does these photoshoots with, what with his height and presence and all, but... if anything it's Bede that's the more eye-catching of the two this time.

Bede's... objectively very pretty, so it isn't exactly surprising, and he's seen enough photos of Raihan for a lifetime.

"I look great, right?" Raihan says, looking like a Boltund who wants treats.

"Do your millions of followers not give you enough attention?" Hop asks, and Raihan's lips curl into a pout exactly on time. "Or your boyfriend?" he nods towards Leon, who is... frowning?

"Lee...! Your brother is bullying me— wait, what's up?" Raihan tilts his head, and takes Leon's hand in support.

Lee jumps. "W-what? Nothing's up. I'm totally fine," he says in a way that means something is obviously up and Hop connects the dots quickly. Bede.

"Oh, come on, Lee! Even Hiphop likes Bede these days!" Raihan says, and Hop isn't sure why but he feels caught somehow, his cheeks flushing as Lee's gaze snaps to him.

"W-well, I mean... he's an alright bloke now that I've gotten to know him a bit?" he manages. Lee's brows are knitted, as if trying to tell if Hop is telling the truth.

"Hop... are you sure?" Leon asks, his frown only deepening. Hop sighs, remembering how he'd rang Lee with tears streaming down his cheeks after their battle outside of Motostoke. He knows Lee has always thought of Bede as the boy who shattered his little brother's confidence, but... it was never that simple. Bede wasn't even... that harsh in hindsight, and it wouldn't have affected Hop so much if his confidence wasn't so fragile in the first place.

"Really, Lee," Hop insists, "He's... nicer these days. Promise." He's not sure if nice is really the right word, but Bede isn't unkind. Far from it, actually. Bede is his friend now, and he doesn't want Lee to still have such a harsh perception of him. "We're friends now, so you can... stop looking at him like you're considering setting Charizard on him every time you see him."

Lee splutters, throwing his hands out in front him. "I don't—!"

"You definitely do, love. You're an open book." Raihan stands, wrapping his arms around Leon's shoulders as if to soften the blow. "He's pretty scared of you."

Lee's eyes widen at that, shoulders hunching as he looks away. "I don't mean to," he murmurs, along with a whole bunch of other incoherent grumbles.

"It's alright, love. Just be extra nice to him the next time you see him!" Raihan beams. Hop's glad that he's taking the reins a bit here, because he'd been in the exact same spot just a few weeks ago. Lee hums, before tapping the sides of his head twice.

"Alright! Any friend of Hop is a friend of mine! Operation make-Bede-not-scared-of-me is a go!" He takes the empty cereal bowls and starts to hum a tune as he washes them in the sink. Back in his own world, apparently.

Somehow, Hop has the feeling that Bede is going to come out of this even more freaked out by Lee than before.

Now that he and Raihan are sort of alone, Hop narrows his eyes before jabbing a finger into Raihan's chest. "So when exactly are you going to put a ring on it?" he whispers.

Raihan withers under Hop's glare, voice lowering. "I don't know, Hiphop... Why is this on me anyway? It's not like I'm the man and he's the woman of the relationship, 'cause that's a really reductive way to view gay relationships and marriage traditions and also, if anything, sometimes I feel like the—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, for the love of Arceus," Hop hisses. He doesn't need to know about any of that. "I'm asking you because Lee isn't going to propose in a million bloody years." He'd dealt with years of Lee secretly pining after Raihan in the first place, and he is not having a repeat of it with marriage.

Raihan looks away, making a face that clearly shows he doesn't disagree. "Fair... I'm just waiting for the right moment, y'know. It's gotta be special," he says, far too loud for the fact that Lee is still in the room but he's so lost in his own head he doesn't hear it anyway.

Hop sighs softly. He supposes marriage is sacred or whatever and that you should only do it when you're ready, but he's getting impatient. For his own sake.

When planning this "big-brother-little-brother-and-also-Raihan Day Out", Lee seemed to forget that the closest thing Wedgehurst has to an actual attraction is the bingo hall, so he ends up dragging them to the park, since there's literally nowhere else to go. They're decidedly going the wrong way right now, but Hop will... allow Lee to explore a bit before getting him back on track.

"I can't believe it's closed..." Lee whines practically into the window of the old restaurant, his breath fogging the glass. It closed down a year ago because the owner got too old and none of his kids wanted to run it. Which is kinda sad, if Hop is being honest. It's not the first business to close recently and it probably won't be the last.

Hop suggested to Gloria once that they should consider building a Gym here. Things are better now compared to the Rose days, but the places that don't have Power Spots still seem to be suffering a bit. It'd be cool to have a new Gym Leader so close by.

And maybe it'd be a good excuse for Victor to actually come home.

Eugh, happy thoughts, Hop. Happy thoughts. Wooloo and nice food and… flowers and stuff.

"Park's this way, Lee," Hop says, his patience finally running dry.

"But the ice cream shop! That's still open!" Lee whines, and Hop sighs softly. Ice cream does fix all problems.

The three of them order triple chocolate chip, for obvious reasons. It's undeniably the best ice cream flavour. If Hop can give Raihan anything, he has his and Lee's good taste.

They sit in the booth closest to the street and Hop can instantly feel Raihan's eyes boring into him.

"So. Hiphop. Hopscotch. Hoppip—"

"Get to the point, Rai."

Raihan leans forward, looking around conspiratorially. "How's the love life? Any boys or girls in the… pokémon professor's assistant community you have your eyes on?"

Hop stares back flatly. "I'm married to my job right now, thank you very much." Frankly, the idea of dating someone right now makes his skin crawl.

Lee speaks up. "He might just be waiting for his moment! Maybe he's been pining after his rival for years on end waiting for the right moment!" he says, and if that isn't projecting Hop isn't sure what is.

Though... it's not as if he's that far off the mark, really.

"Your idea of the 'right moment' was to take it to your grave, love," Raihan teases, before looking back over to Hop. "If that is true, don't follow in the footsteps of your brother here. He's lucky he fell in love with me 'cause I just say it how it is!" He puffs himself up proudly.

Hop has long stopped listening. His childhood crush didn't exactly end as well as Lee's, evidently, since said childhood crush doesn't even speak to him anymore. And it's all his fault for developing feelings.

Like he said - dating is gross, love is gross and he doesn't believe in that stuff anymore. He has his pokémon and his friends and that's good enough for him.

Hop squawks when Raihan boops his nose. "You really are both a pair of daydreamers huh?" he says, and Hop scowls. He's not like Lee in that aspect. Sometimes he just has important things to think about, okay? Like his ever-growing list of regrets in life.

Okay, maybe it'd be best to banish those thoughts to the shadow realm for now. Ta-ta negative thoughts. He'll unpack them later when he has a pillow to jam his face into.

Hop winces as he realises his ice cream has started melting onto his hand, and scowls when he realises Lee's has also started to do the same. He pointedly ignores Raihan's self-satisfied grin as he wipes his hand with a napkin.

They eventually finally make their way to the park, and it's immediately utter mayhem because Lee and Raihan have been recognised.

It always surprises Hop when stuff like this happens these days since Lee doesn't spend anywhere near as much time in the public eye as he used to, but he supposes that just makes people go even more nuts when they do see him.

Hop just watches as Lee battles just about every child in a five-mile radius. He can't suppress a small snicker at the fact that Lee can't hold himself back just a little bit even when battling actual children. Maybe he's taking his frustrations over getting trounced by Gloria over and over out on the local child population.

After a while, his smile falters. So much for "Big-brother-little-brother-and-also-Raihan" Day.

It's fine. He's twenty whole years old now. He doesn't need Lee's attention and approval anymore, and he should never have been so reliant in the first place. He's fine.

"He's trying, y'know."

Hop jolts and turns his head. He'd maybe sort of forgot that Raihan was even here for a moment. Trying to give him and Lee space, he supposes, for whatever that's worth. Hop sighs softly.

"Trying to do what?" Hop asks, feigning ignorance.

Raihan scowls, and Hop realises that Raihan clearly knows far more than he ever told him, at least. Whether that's because of Lee or because he's just good at reading people, Hop isn't quite sure.

Still, his cheeks start to turn red out of shame because he knows Lee is trying. He turned up unannounced after all, supposedly just to see him, though he wonders if Raihan has more to do with all of this than he's letting on.

Hop sighs softly. "I know he's trying. I just..." he trails off, because he doesn't want to say it out loud. He knows he should count his blessings, but...

He just wishes Lee would try a bit harder.

He knows it's greedy, knows that he has no right to demand more than he has already, but he's lost count of the times he's wished he could see Lee more often, of the times he's wished that he could actually see his big brother in person more than he does on TV.

Whatever. It's fine.

"Look, don't worry about me!" Hop grins, the same way he always does. "He is here, isn't he? He's just battling for a bit." And has been for the last hour.

Raihan's frown only deepens, and he looks like he's going to say something before turning towards Lee instead. "Oi, Lee! We're gonna need to head back to Wyndon soon!" he shouts out, and Hop knows what Raihan is doing, because they don't need to go back to Wyndon just yet. Lee just has no internal clock and will believe whatever you tell him.

Hop looks down to his feet. Every time he's around Lee, he feels like he turns into a kid again, desperate for his big brother's attention. It's embarrassing. Especially since Raihan can clearly see it.

Lee bounds over and lets out a breath. "Phew... sorry, got a little carried away there!" he says with a grin, then Hop sees his face crack. "Oh shit— shoot, sorry, how long was I battling for?" he asks, guilt clear as day on his face.

"Just twenty minutes..." Hop mumbles. Best not to make Lee feel any worse.

Lee still winces. "Oof... longer than I thought. My bad!" he says, and Hop isn't sure if he wants to laugh or cry or scream. Then, Lee's eyes light up. "How about a battle, huh? Me and you, three against three!" he says, already holding a pokéball.

Hop shifts uncomfortably. "Didn't bring my pokémon," he says, which is true, though he's not sure he'd be up for it anyway. He barely ever battles anymore, and it just dredges up bad memories whenever it's against an actual trainer. Also, he's not sure if he needs such a visceral reminder of how shite he is at battling by letting Lee mop the floor with him.

"Ah, right, right... maybe next time, eh?" Lee says, and his grin doesn't quite reach his eyes.

The energy wasn't the same after that, if it was ever good in the first place. An hour later, and Hop waves goodbye to Lee and Raihan as they hop into the Corviknight cab and he immediately heads home. He opens the front door, quickly slinking upstairs and then he practically collapses onto his bed.

It's... his fault, isn't it? That things aren't right between him and Lee. Raihan was right. Lee is trying, and Hop suddenly feels like he's the one who isn't. He insulted Lee practically the entire time he was there and couldn't bring himself to get involved in Lee's interests and just got stuck in his own head the entire day.

He sits up, and looks into the mirror. He's quite awful, if he's being honest with himself. A self centred twat who obsesses over his own problems instead of thinking of everyone else's. He practically growls at his own reflection before sitting at his desk, desperate for something to distract himself with. He needs to do something, needs to talk to someone—

He wants to talk to Victor.

Tears start to well in the corners of his eyes. Seems like all of the relationships he's ruined keep cropping up today. He wishes he could talk to Victor because he always helped ground him in a way no one else could.

Bugger his stupid old crush, he just wants his best friend back.

He brings out his phone, thumb scrolling down the contacts list until his thumb hovers over the button to call him, but he knows it's pointless, knows that he'd completely shatter if he tried to call again without an answer. So he doesn't.

He idly scrolls back up, just to give his fingers something to do, when he reaches the top and spots the newest name in his contact list.

Bede.

Hop bites his lip. They've never actually spoken on the phone before, but Gloria did say he usually preferred it to texting, and they've texted plenty. He just needs to escape his own head with someone he doesn't have a whole bunch of emotional baggage with.

He lets out a small, bewildered laugh to himself, the whole idea almost snapping him out of his thoughts on its own. How did Bede of all people become one of the safest feeling people in his life? Maybe he needs to stop feeling so surprised at this point. He likes Bede, and they're friends now, even if it had taken absolutely ages to get here.

Still, he hesitates. Would he be a bother? Bede seems like the type to go to bed proper early. What if he has better things to do? What if he gets on his nerves? What if he—

He presses call anyway. The phone rings, and rings, and rings...

"Hello? Since when do you call?" he hears from across the line, and Hop can practically hear the smirk on Bede's face.

Whatever words Hop had been planning to say die in his throat. He just sniffles before covering it up with a put-on coughing fit. "Hey, Bede! Wanna chat?" he says, wanting to throttle himself over how desperate he probably sounds.

Thankfully, Bede doesn't seem to notice. Or comment on the fact he sounds like he's been working in a mine all day. "Hmm... I suppose I can give up some peace and quiet for a bit," he says, and Hop can't help but smile a little.

A silence stretches out and Hop quickly realises it's because he's always the one to guide their conversations. He... doesn't really know what to talk about. Definitely not the day he just had. "How's... how's your day been?" he asks quietly, then hears some shuffling on the other end. After a few seconds, Bede's camera turns on. He's still in his office?

"Adequate," Bede replies simply as he writes on some paper.

"You're still working?" Hop asks. He already knows Bede goes to the Gym really early to prepare things, so he's definitely working late. Bede's eyes drift to his phone, a pensive expression on his face.

"It's just menial work. Organising stall locations for the festival. Nothing stressful," he insists. Hop just hums, checking himself properly in the mirror once. Presentable enough, he supposes. He turns his own camera on.

"Well, don't work too late," Hop says. "Seems like you're guilty of just about everything you've ever lectured me for," he adds with a smirk.

"Oh, I'm sure that working an hour late is the same as staying up into the early hours of the morning doing research every night," Bede counters, and Hop sticks out his tongue. He just watches Bede work in silence for a moment.

"Oi, how come you do everything on paper? I can see your computer right there," Hop comments. Thinking back, Bede had only used his computer once yesterday as well - to show him some pictures.

Bede scowls. "I don't like them," he says simply.

Hop scoots his desk chair forwards. "But they're so convenient! I bet you'd get this work done twice as quick on that thing!" he points at Bede's computer on his phone screen, even though Bede obviously wouldn't be able to tell.

"I would not," Bede just says. "Computers are wretched machines that do nothing except make my life harder."

Hop snorts into his hand. "You're not beating the granny allegations mate," he says, and instantly sees Bede's writing hand stop.

Bede looks up slowly to his phone, before looking back down to continue writing. "And who exactly says that?" he asks in a frankly terrifyingly neutral voice. Hop chews the inside of his cheek.

"Oh, you know..." he trails off, muttering incoherently under his breath.

"Oh, do tell. You clearly heard of these... 'granny allegations' from somewhere," Bede says, and Hop realises that someone is in big trouble and it's not going to be him.

Even though he maybe started it.

"W-well, y'know, just Glo, Marnie, Piers, Sonia, Nessa, I think maybe Kabu one time..." Throw everyone under the bus if you have to, Hop.

Bede just hums. "Well, let's just say whoever thought of it first is going to have a nice meeting with Hatterene," he says, and Hop goes pale. He's dead. "Unless..." Bede starts, eyes flicking to his phone. "They confess... right now."

Hop squeaks. He already knows! "I'm sorry! I thought it was funny one time and everyone else ran away with it!" He covers his face. "Please, anything but Hatterene!" He'd sooner face Eternatus down again than face her wrath.

And Bede laughs, airy and dainty but ultimately so unabashed that Hop can't even think about his embarrassment anymore. He... likes the sound of it. "Fine... you get to live another day. At least until we've done your makeover," Bede says.

Oh. Hop had forgotten about that. He doesn't really have anything planned for tomorrow either, so... "Are you free tomorrow? We could do it then," he says, before his eyes widen. "N-not that I'm in a rush for Hatterene to kill me or anything, it's just— you know—"

"I can do that. Meet me at Motostoke at eleven."

Hop exhales softly. He gets to live another day, at least. He chews his lip as he writes it down on two separate post-it notes - one to go on his desk and one to go on his bedroom door as well, just in case. "Not Hammerlocke? It's a lot closer to you," he says. He's glad they both seem to be on the same page that Wyndon is off the table.

Bede shakes his head. "I don't mind. You seem more... Motostoke fashion than Hammerlocke fashion, anyway," he says, and Hop scowls because that definitely sounds like an insult. Bede rolls his eyes. "I just mean you're more rugged than... fancy and colourful," he says, and Hop supposes he can't argue with that. Even if rugged still sounds like messy to his ears.

"Right... meet you at the Battle Cafe? For, uh. Tea," he lies. He might be drinking less coffee now but he'd rather put his head in between a Haxorus's jaws than go without one in the morning.

Bede snorts. "Of course, tea," Bede echoes. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Hop nods. "See ya tomorrow! And quit working and go home!" He hangs up, and his feet kick giddily under the desk. It might be fun! And this'll be the first time he and Bede purposefully hang out!

He thinks back to Lee. Maybe... he should text him. Head up to Wyndon at some point. Give Lee the battle he wants. He sends a quick text.

"Would it be okay if I came to the Battle Tower next weekend?"

He scrolls up to their earlier texts. They haven't actually texted much over the years. Occasional phone calls, maybe, but that's it. It doesn't take him long to reach the ones sent during his Gym Challenge, a supportive text every single day along with a GIF of a dancing Wooloo. He lingers on the last message, when he'd lost to Glo in the semi-finals.

"I'm so proud of you."

Hop sniffles. He was so upset at the time that he hadn't fully absorbed the words, and maybe a small part of him feels like he needs those words even more now than he had back then. He finds comfort in the fact that Lee isn't exactly the sort to take back that kind of thing.

He jumps slightly when Lee messages him back, sending him back to the bottom. It's... a whole lot of emojis and keyboard mashing before he reaches anything coherent.

"Yes!!!! Bring Zacian and also Dubwool and also everyone else, not just a team of six because—"

Hop chuckles as it goes on like that for a while. He's still not sure if he's comfortable battling again, but... if he has a bit to mentally prepare it should be okay.

He flops into bed, tossing and turning before remembering that he'd forgotten to drink the tea. Did it really help him sleep that much? He squirms in bed for a while before eventually relenting and making some, and can't stop how his thoughts always drift to Bede now every time he drinks it.

Bede tugs at a loose thread on his jumper. He'd already be trying to cut it or otherwise get rid of it if he wasn't so anxious for some reason. It's doing a good job of distracting him while he waits for Hop to arrive. Which was supposed to be twenty minutes ago.

He sighs to himself, looking around to the frankly disgustingly sooty streets of Motostoke. How anyone can live like this, Bede isn't sure. Machinery lines the streets, and he's already seen two separate deliveries of coal enter the city. He understands this is the home of the Fire Gym but this is all a bit ridiculous.

Bede watches as the next train pulls in, and if Hop isn't on this one, he's going home. He's already out of his comfort zone just being here, and if Hop is going to keep disrespecting his time like this he's going to go home and pretend to not actually be quite upset about the whole thing.

He isn't quite sure when he'd started to care enough about Hop that it'd actually hurt his feelings if he ditched him, but somewhere along the way, it happened.

Maybe it's your tendency to throw yourself to the floor whenever someone is actually nice to you.

Bede scowls, because he does not like that thought. He cringes at the memory of how he'd practically grovelled to Opal when he realised she really was trying to help him and wasn't some manipulative piece of shit like—

Easy, Bede. You're better than that now. You don't let men like him affect you anymore.

"That bin must have done something really bad to earn that look."

Bede's cheeks flush when he turns, spotting Hop who has... probably been there for a while given that the train has already pulled away from the platform.

"You're late," he accuses, choosing not to even deign Hop's comment with a reply. Thankfully, his plan works because Hop manages to look a bit ashamed at least.

"Sorry, mate. Missed the train. I did text you," he says, and Bede narrows his eyes in suspicion before checking his phone. He had gotten a text, apparently. Multiple in fact, including a photo of his Dubwool as an "apology."

Bede huffs. "Fine. You're forgiven, but I'd have thought that a prospective pokémon professor would be more organised."

"You thought dead wrong, mate. I don't know my arse from my elbow most days," he says with a yawn, putting his hands above his head as he stretches. Bede suppresses a small smile. Hop is... an entirely different person in the mornings. The effects of a deep coffee addiction, he supposes.

It's not far to the Battle Café. If he's being honest, Bede finds the concept a little... tacky. He prefers to keep his love for battling and his love for hot beverages a bit more separate than this, but he'd sooner trust a chain like a Battle Café before whatever passes as a local coffee shop in Motostoke. Where they probably put actual coal soot into their tea, or something.

"I imagine you're itching for a battle," Bede comments, his hand already drifting to Mawile's pokéball, but he catches the way Hop jolts.

"E-err..." Hop ekes out, and his thumb briefly rubs circles into the first pokéball on his own belt. After a few seconds, "Fine," is all he says. Bede goes to question it but Hop has already marched up to the counter.

While Bede would like to say that the fact that Zacian utterly destroys the Café Master's pokémon is unsurprising, even he is surprised by the wolf pokémon's sheer power and efficiency in dismantling everything that gets thrown at them. Bede barely even has the chance to do anything before the battle is over.

They sit at a booth with their drinks, and Bede glares back at the Café Master who seemed to not understand that he wanted a herbal, yes herbal tea. It's on the menu, so Bede doesn't care if the people of Motostoke are tasteless and clearly never order it. His glare only intensifies and the Café Master shrinks back, clearing his throat and looking under the counter.

Bede suddenly realises that Hop hasn't actually said anything since they first came in. "You're... quiet," he decides to comment after the first sip of his tea, definitely the type you can just get at the supermarket. Which is fine, he supposes, but it's nothing in comparison to the drinks at the teahouse in Ballonlea.

Hop's eyes widen slightly, and he looks out of the window guiltily. "Sorry..." he says, and Bede thinks he's going to just leave it at that before he continues. "That's actually the first time I've battled anyone in... years, I suppose it must be by now."

That's... surprising. Bede might not have been impressed by Hop in their first battle back then, but even he could see that Hop had become an incredibly strong trainer by the semi-finals back in their Gym Challenge. Strong enough that he just might have beaten Leon, if Bede is being deathly honest.

Sadly, for just about everyone else involved, there was a demon by the name of Gloria participating that year that's gone on to seem even more undefeatable than even Leon was. A professional dream crusher, in Bede's opinion.

The fact that Hop apparently doesn't battle at all anymore, even if he's had a change of career, makes Bede feel... well, a little sad, if he's being honest. Because of missed potential, obviously.

"Well... I wouldn't have guessed based on your performance in that battle," Bede decides to say, because he has absolutely no idea how to handle the revelation.

Hop waves him off. "S'all my pokémon's doing," he says, then lets out a huff. "It was a bit fun, I suppose. The Battle Café never really puts up much of a fight, though," he sips the straw of his iced coffee because he apparently hasn't committed enough crimes against actual good drinks just yet, apparently.

Bede snorts. "If you want more of a fight, we could battle," he offers, presenting the pokéball containing Mawile, who came out of their battle completely unscathed.

Hop chews his lip. "I dunno... let's just enjoy the day, yeah? You've still got to... make me over or whatever it is we're actually doing," he says.

Bede shrugs. "Suit yourself," he says, but he can't help but feel like he just crossed a boundary. The least he can do is not cross it again, at least not until he feels like Hop is more comfortable with battling.

Speaking of crossing boundaries, Bede is distracted by the disappointing taste of his tea when Hop snaps a photo of him.

"Delete it," Bede demands immediately.

Hop pouts, but quickly obliges. "Come on, I have photos of all of my friends!"

"Did you take all of them without permission?" Bede asks with a scowl, and Hop pouts harder.

"No... but I have a feeling you're gonna say no if I do ask," he says.

"Well, well, well... seems like you have good intuition after all," Bede drawls. He is not in an appropriate photo-taking state. The only reason he accepted Raihan's request for them to do a photoshoot together is that he knows Raihan values quality.

Hop sprawls himself across the table with a whine, and Bede will at least internally admit that the sight is a little bit funny. Just a little bit. "Please? I've managed to get a photo of everyone!" Hop points his phone at him, showing photos of Milo posing with a grin while holding a Wooloo, Nessa doing a peace sign, even one of Marnie managing a small smile. He has no idea how Hop managed to get away with that one.

"Fine," Bede hisses, a deep scowl on his face. "Take your stupid photo."

Hop lets out a strangled noise. "Not when you look like you're trying to blow me up with your mind, Bede," he chokes out.

"I'm not smiling."

Hop just whines again, practically thrashing around his side of the booth like a baby. If Hop is trying to embarrass him into giving in, he has no chance.

"Come on, Bede... I'll do anything!" he says, and that catches Bede's attention.

Anything, hm?

"You could dance and roll around on the floor for my amusement, and I'll consider it," Bede says, and Hop's lower lip only sticks out further.

"Please be serious," he says, and Bede sighs.

He supposes... there is something he wants.

"I'd like... to see your wolf."

Hop's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Zacian? You just saw him," he says, and Bede frowns because surely he's being obtuse.

"I mean properly. Get a chance to..." he trails off. He doesn't know exactly what he wants, but he's had his eye on the legendary wolf pokémon for a while.

Hop scratches his neck. "Well... of course. S'not a problem. How come you're so interested, though?" he says, and Bede gives him a flat look.

"It's a legendary pokémon. And a fairy type at that." Frankly, Hop should have already allowed him a proper meeting, but he supposes he hasn't done much to earn it over the years.

"Oh! I suppose that makes sense," Hop says with a nod, before pulling out their pokéball. "You want to see them now?"

"Not now," Bede hisses, because Zacian is the size of a bloody car. "Later... after we've gone shopping," he says, calming down a bit now that Hop is lowering their ball.

"Oh, yeah... that makes sense!" Hop says, cluelessly enough that Bede thinks he might have actually just managed to save them both from getting banned from every Battle Café in the region.

He takes a final sip of his tea, and his nose curls. Not that they'd be missing out on much.

When it comes to picking out new clothes for Hop, Bede thought a decent starting point would be his own sense of fashion. Pretty pastels, with a nice focus on pink.

Seeing them on Hop, though? Now Bede is the one tempted to snap a picture.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up you absolute dickhead," Hop hisses, wearing a pink jumper covered in multicoloured polka dots and what could only be called dad jeans.

Okay, maybe Bede went a little bit further than he'd ever actually consider for himself, but it was worth it.

But he does also notice how Hop is shifting uncomfortably as he looks in the mirror, and he sighs softly. "Oh, come on. The whole point of this is to experiment a little. You're not going to like everything I give you, and that's perfectly fine," he says, but he does hope that Hop ends up liking something they pick out.

Hop takes a deep breath, and then nods. "Alright. I trust you. As long as you stop snickering," he says, jabbing an accusing finger in Bede's direction.

Bede raises his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll try to make outfits that would at least look good on someone from now on." Frankly, the jumper is absolutely hideous, even if it checks all of his boxes on paper.

A more... tempered version of Bede's tastes ends up going almost as poorly. Hop just doesn't suit the more gentle tones, nor his sharper cuts of clothing. It makes him look... posh in a similar way to the snotty kids at the Trainer School.

Bede keeps a hold of them because they are decent pieces, though. For garments from a Motostoke boutique.

A leather jacket catches his eye. Eugh. Not his sort of thing, but... "How about this?" Bede asks as he pulls it out from the rack, and Hop gives him a flat look.

"It's a bit... Spikemuth," he says simply, his opinion on that is pretty clear based on his tone.

Bede rolls his eyes. It is very Marnie. "Go on, give it a go," he says, quickly finding a pair of dark ripped jeans and some combat boots and piling them into Hop's hands, who scuttles off to the changing rooms with a grumble.

Bede runs a hand through his hair as he sits to wait for Hop. This... isn't going as well as he'd have liked. Their tastes are such opposites that he's struggling to pick out things that not only Hop likes, but that he even likes.

When Hop exits the changing rooms, he... actually looks pretty good. Rugged does suit him more than... put-together, let's say. Still, Hop squirms as he looks in the mirror.

"You don't like it?" Bede asks, and Hop's nose curls as if that's not quite it.

"I... sort of like it, but... it's not something I can see myself wearing every day. Or anywhere other than Spikemuth," Hop says, and Bede can't disagree, really. "And it's... not very comfy. At all."

Bede lets out a long exhale through his nose as he thinks. He's at a loss. Everything comfy looks bad on him. Everything that looks good on him is uncomfy. It's not as if Hop is being overly picky or unreasonable because it does look uncomfortable. He doesn't know how Marnie handles wearing things like this every day.

So Bede wanders between the racks, nose curling when he sees it's just more of the same. That, and designer brands with logos all over them (Hop does not need to look more like his brother) and vague, boring merch. While he's tempted to just give Hop a Raihan shirt at this point, that wouldn't do. He's not a quitter.

He tilts his head as he runs a thumb over the shoulder of a denim jacket. It's just something Hop would already wear, but...

He grabs it anyway, along with a pair of slacks with the stretchiest waist he can find, and ignores Hop's confused expression when he hands them over. "The shoes you brought will do," he says, and turns away.

When Hop exits the changing room, Bede scowls. He looks good. Has he always looked good wearing this sort of thing? It's a bit tidier than what Hop would usually wear, with some trousers that aren't just a pair of joggers, but he looks the same as he always has.

He looks... handsome.

"Err... feel like this is just something I would usually wear, Bede. I like it, but I thought the point was an actual makeover?" Hop says, and Bede sighs because he feels like he just lost somehow. He can see how much more comfortable Hop clearly feels, how he's no longer looking self-conscious when he looks in the mirror like he had with everything else.

"The point was to find you some clothes you feel happy wearing. And we've found them," Bede says simply, and Hop frowns.

"Well, yeah, but what was all that about me having shite taste in fashion—"

"I take it back. You look good. You actually... have a decent eye for what looks good on you," Bede admits, pointedly not looking Hop in the eye because for some reason his cheeks feel like they're on fire.

Hop shuffles, clearly not sure what to say either. "Still. Feels a bit... anticlimactic," he says as he sits next to Bede, then he smiles, the thing looking almost conspiratorial. "Let's keep going, eh?" he says, and Bede realises it's because Hop is feeling it, the same feeling Bede had when he first explored his own style, when he first walked through Hammerlocke wearing that pink coat.

Well... it'd be a waste to stop now, wouldn't it?

As loathe as Bede is to admit it, what proceeded was some of the most actual fun he's had in a long time. Between his anxieties of finding something Hop likes melting away, and Hop's antics every time he exits the changing rooms...

Bede can't help but wonder if he's been missing out on something this entire time.

"Right, that's enough," Bede chokes out when Hop comes out clad head to toe in Bede's own merch, and while he's been fighting tooth and nail to get some control over what his merch actually looks like, he's had no luck so far.

"Why? You should love me for supporting you so much!" he says with an innocent grin that's as see-through as glass.

"You look like an evil version of your brother," Bede comments. Why the League makes snapbacks with his face on them, he'll never understand.

"I'll show everyone... the power of pink!" Hop says, and the scene of him saying Bede's catchphrase while also doing Leon's stupid pose makes Bede want to vomit.

Bede stands, swiping the cap off of Hop's head. "Take that bloody shit off before I—" his words die in his throat when he sees Hop's unapologetic grin, and his heart starts to beat faster.

What the bloody hell has gotten into him?

Bede puts on a scoff. "You're utterly ridiculous," he says, then storms out of the boutique. He needs air. Hop can put everything away as his punishment for making him feel... whatever on earth he's feeling right now.

Once he's outside, Bede breathes the decidedly unclean air. Today has gotten... completely out of hand, completely out of control. And he's not sure if he likes it or not.

Hop exits a few minutes later, stretching as he walks through the doors. "Well... I had fun," he says with a small smile, before shaking his bags. "And got a few additions to my simple wardrobe, but mostly a lot of fun," he says with a smirk, which then turns into something more genuine. "Thank you."

Bede shifts. "Don't thank me for it. I... had fun, as well," he says, and the words feel like pulling teeth.

Hop just snorts, but then, his eyes light up. "You still want to see Zacian? I know I still want that photo!" he says with a grin, and Bede groans internally. He'd forgotten about all that.

He does still want to see Zacian, though.

"Can we... head out to the Wild Area?" Bede says, looking around to the street around them and hoping Hop catches his message that Motostoke is awful and that he doesn't want to ever come here again.

Hop hums in agreement. "S'not exactly the most fitting environment for a legendary 'mon, eh?" he says, then stills for a moment. He starts to squirm in a way that Bede can tell is because he's hesitating to say something. After a few moments, he speaks up. "Would you... like to come with me to the Slumbering Weald? That way, you'll be able to see Zacian in their... natural environment."

Bede purses his lips, checking the time. There's still a few hours of daylight, so he supposes that wouldn't be so bad.

And maybe a part of him doesn't want the day to end just yet.

"Why not? I've never been there," Bede says, realising after saying it that obviously he hasn't been there. From what Gloria says, she and Hop are pretty much the only people who can actually navigate the place.

Hop grins, clearly pleased by his answer.

While Hop would have preferred to take the train, a Corviknight cab was their only option unless they wanted to wander through the Weald in the dark. Which he wouldn't mind since he knows the Weald like the back of his hand at this point.

But based on Bede's wary expression as they walk through during the day, Hop thinks he made the right call.

He likes to walk to the shrine by himself sometimes, when he's feeling a bit... overwhelmed with everything. Only Sonia and Glo can really navigate the Weald enough to even find the place, so it's a guaranteed safe place if he desperately needs the quiet.

He's not alone this time, though.

"I thought you said this place was nice," Bede says, his accusing tone making it abundantly clear that he thinks the place is very not nice.

Hop smirks. "Consider this revenge for every time I've had to deal with your forest," he says, and Bede pokes his tongue out in response. Hop lets out a soft exhale of his nose. "I said the shrine is nice. I'll admit the walk there can be a bit... eerie," he concedes. He likes it, though. You haven't heard real quiet until you've heard Slumbering Weald quiet.

Bede just huffs. "Then how much farther?" he asks, doing his best to make it not sound like a complaint, but Hop knows what he's hearing.

"Just a few more minutes," Hop replies honestly, as tempted as he is to run them around in circles until Bede realises. The shrine is at it's prettiest at this time, in the golden rays of sunset. They'll miss it if he wastes too much time.

"I don't like it here."

Hop lets out a strangled sound. That was blunt, even by Bede's standards. "S-sort of gathered that, mate. It's really not that much further!"

"I don't—" Bede takes a breath. "I don't mean it like that. I mean... there's a strange feeling in the air here. In the... energy of this place." He looks around, then huffs.

Hop's eyebrows raise because he can't say he feels much of that at all. "Err... what's wrong with it?"

Bede's nose wrinkles, as if he isn't sure how to answer the question. "I don't know... I feel a fairy influence here, but... different from the Tangle. I don't know how to explain it," he says, and that catches Hop's attention.

"You can just feel that sort of thing?" Hop says as he turns because this needs his full attention.

Bede squirms, looking like he's realising he's accidentally let slip a secret. "I don't really understand it myself. They're Opal's words, not mine," he says, which is disappointing because he'll probably never get a straight answer out of her.

Bede just shrugs. "Certain people have a special connection or something to the fairy type. It's what Opal is talking about when she talks about 'Pink'," Bede says, as if he doesn't say it nearly as much.

Hop hums. "That's cool," he says simply. As tempted as he is to pull out his notebook and start questioning Bede, they don't have all day, and there's probably ethical concerns with interrogating someone in an ancient foggy forest. He motions for Bede to follow as he gets back to walking.

As promised, a few minutes later and they reach the clearing that houses the shrine, the last dregs of sunlight filtering through the trees. It won't be long before the sun goes down and this day will come to an end, so Hop plans to enjoy the last vestige of daylight before they need to go home.

"See? Much nicer, eh?" Hop says with a grin towards Bede, who looks far more relaxed now that they're out of the fog.

"It is, yes," Bede concedes.

Hop flashes a pleased grin and lets Zacian out of their ball, and he hears Bede's soft gasp at the sight. "Well, what do you think—" Hop pauses when he turns back, and raises an eyebrow when he sees that Bede has taken several steps back. "Are you nervous?" he teases, and Bede looks like he's tempted to strangle him.

"Of course I'm bloody nervous, I'm meeting a legendary pokémon and a saviour of Galar!" he hisses.

Hop grins and puffs himself up. "Well, I'm already half of that!" he says, then chokes. What's gotten into him? He hasn't bragged like that since his bloody Gym Challenge.

Still, Bede snickers so it made him drop his guard a bit, at least. "I suppose you're right," he just says, looking like he's trying to cover a small smile with his hand.

Hop is doing his best to ignore the burn of his cheeks when Zacian huffs impatiently. "Oh, whoops. Sorry Zacian!" he says, then puts out his arms in a "ta-da!" motion. "Zacian, meet Bede. Bede, meet Zacian!"

Bede takes a few tentative steps forward, and raises his hand before hesitating, looking to Hop, who nods. Bede drops to a single knee, and his hand starts to make soothing motions into the side of Zacian's face.

Hop knows what's coming next.

Bede lets out a surprised sound when Zacian leans heavily into the touch, enough to almost bat him over. "They like scratches," Hop explains with a snicker, and Bede hesitantly obliges.

Hop feels a warmth in his chest when he sees Bede's soft smile, one that he probably doesn't realise Hop can see. This would be a perfect photo, in Hop's opinion, but he's not about to take another without Bede's permission.

Zacian nuzzles into Bede's touch. They're like a puppy at heart, but they're usually a bit more... aloof than this. Hop supposes it must be the... fairy energy or whatever that Bede was talking about earlier.

Bede pulls away slightly and sighs dramatically before turning to Hop. "Alright. Take your stupid photo," he says, hand still idly scratching the side of Zacian's head.

Hop jolts, scrambling to pull out his Rotom phone before Bede can change his mind. "Err... I'll count down, okay?"

Bede rolls his eyes. "Yes, yes, do hurry up," he says, and Hop begins to count down.

"Three..."

"Two..."

"One..."

Bede beams.

It's utterly radiant, a far cry from the practiced, smug smirks he flashes the cameras. It's nothing like the teasing smiles Bede has been sending his way more and more often, and even pales in comparison to the soft, unguarded smile of just a minutes ago.

And it's one of the prettiest things Hop has ever seen.

"Alright, done," Bede says, his face now looking comically neutral as he stands back up, and Hop practically squawks.

"B-Bede! I didn't take the photo!" He froze up! He's such an idiot!

"You had your chance," Bede says, turning his nose up snootily before turning to walk away.

"Please, please, please do it again! I'll do anything!" Hop whines as he grabs onto Bede's arm to pull him back.

"You've already given me what I wanted!"

Hop scowls. "In exchange for a photo! You didn't give me a chance to take it!" he jabs an accusing finger into Bede's chest, and Bede just rolls his stupid eyes because he knows Hop is right!

"Ugh, fine!" Bede stops trying to get away and crosses his arms, frowning towards Hop.

Hop sighs. So much for getting a photo of Bede without storm clouds over his head, but this is probably the best he's going to get, even though it's also starting to get dark now.

He makes a show of pouting as he takes the photo, but it ends up showing Bede looking away from the camera, a small amused smile he's trying to suppress on his face.

It's almost as good as the smile he missed earlier, so he'll take it.

A shrill cry echoes through Bede's cottage, the sort of cry that would send shivers down most people's spines, and send them running very much in the opposite direction.

"You're being unreasonable," Bede says with crossed arms from his spot in the kitchen.

Hatterene cries out again, a very displeased expression on her face.

"You can't have any more candy because it's bad for you," he counters, wiggling a finger towards her. He's not going to have pokémon with health problems. None that are his fault at least.

Hatterene's expression only gets more displeased, and she very much looks like she's considering blasting him with a psybeam. He stares her down before eventually rolling his eyes.

"That's your last," he says, and Hatterene catches the big piece of candy with her tentacle, now with a far more content expression on her face. Can pokémon get heart disease? Bede isn't sure. He'd ask Hop but it seems like a stupid question, so he won't.

He flicks on the kettle and pulls out two mugs from the cupboard, because today he has a visitor on their way. It's rare that he actually invites anyone to his home, but desperate needs call for desperate measures.

The door knocks, and Bede returns Hatterene to her pokéball, given her tendency to absolutely leer at visitors, no matter who they are. He answers, and—

Gloria scowls at him. Seems like all of the women in his life are annoyed with him today.

"You're ridiculous," she hisses as she walks inside, without being invited in. Champions just don't have any manners, apparently.

"Charming." Bede sniffs, raising his nose snootily as he follows her back into the cottage. He starts to pour their tea to busy himself, because he knows he has quite the thrashing ahead of him.

Gloria's scowl remains when he places the tea onto the coffee table, and Bede motions his hand for Gloria to start her complaining. She just narrows her eyes.

"You told me you knew what you were doing with your hair," she accuses.

Bede has been... growing his hair out recently, and no, it isn't because of that one time he had a haircut that got absolutely ruined and the tabloids made fun of him for weeks. It's just a coincidence that he hasn't had it cut since then. He just shrugs unrepentantly.

"I thought I did," he says honestly. It's a thick, matted mess, tied in a ponytail that hurts to keep his hair in, but it at least looks a bit presentable.

Gloria sighs, her piercing gaze softening as the unspoken words linger between them. Bede... doesn't really know how to do a lot of things. Growing up in an orphanage, then on his own, and then with a very, very old woman caused him to end up with a lot of gaps in his learning on how to... well, be an actual person.

He thought his hair would just take care of itself as long as he washed it, which is apparently true for most people. His hair just seems to be almost unnaturally thick and has a tendency to coil in on itself. He should probably just cut it, but he needs to un-matt it first.

Enter scene, Gloria. Galar's champion and... hair un-matter, apparently.

"Fine. Sit," she just says, motioning to one of the chairs around the dining table. Bede obeys, and Gloria starts to rummage through a small bag before pulling out a comb.

Bede's eyes flutter shut as Gloria's experienced hands get to work unknotting the worst of his hair. He lets out a sharp hiss as Gloria tugs at a few particularly tangled strands.

"Quit whinin'. And let this be a lesson. I'd have thought you of all people would take better care of yourself. You should've told me sooner," she scolds. Bede's lips form into a pout, but he can't really argue.

"Then quit brute-forcing the job like you do your battles, champion," he chooses to retort instead.

Gloria just hums nonchalantly. "What's our record again?" she muses aloud, causing Bede to grumble. In all of their years battling, Bede has still never won a fair battle between them. Even in training battles where she's purposefully using a team that's weak to his own pokémon, they tend to be closer than they should be. Sadly, he has a tendency to get complacent.

"Oh, go on, rub it in. And here i thought your ego was already big enough."

"You're talking to me about ego?"

Bede laughs at that, before letting out another hiss of pain.

"Stop movin'. I know I'm hilarious but I'm sure you can hold it in until I'm done with this nest."

"When have I ever made your job easy?" Bede teases, causing Gloria to snort. Bede's eyes fall shut again as they fall into a comfortable silence. It felt nice, being doted over like this. Most of his experiences of people touching his hair are of the pulling variety. Though, maybe it isn't so different after all, given that Gloria seems intent on yanking out most of it.

"Maybe I should have asked Marnie instead," Bede complains as the comb actually gets stuck in his hair. He bites his tongue as he feels each individual hair get pulled free.

"Ha. We both know she'd have come here with clippers and shaved your entire bloody head," she counters, and Bede has to suppress a shudder because oh Arceus, she absolutely would have, and finally silently lets Gloria do her thing.

He closes his eyes. The sensations of being doted over are... comforting, as mortifying as it is for Bede to admit.

The tabloids would lose their collective minds if they saw this. He's not sure if a week has gone by without some piece claiming that there's something going on between them, even though they are both very much batting for the opposite team.

"Heard you've been chatting with Hop," Gloria says, trying to keep her voice controlled but Bede can hear the conspiratorial edge, and the slight excitement simmering beneath it. He rolls his eyes and resits the urge to gag, but a small smile lands on his face.

"Yes, yes, you were right. I suppose he's not so bad." He hates to admit it, but Hop is annoyingly pleasant company. Maybe it's just the novelty of a male friend.

"Oh? That's all you have to say? He won't stop talking about your little shopping spree," she teases. Bede's cheeks redden, which Gloria thankfully can't see.

That was... a strange day. For some reason, hanging around Hop brought things out in him that have never been brought out before. He can't believe he let Hop take that wretched picture, immortalising his... his weakness for eternity.

That's what his younger self would have thought at least. Current Bede is mortified by the fact that he really doesn't find himself minding that much.

Bede makes enough of a show of rolling his eyes that Gloria can tell even from behind him. "Oh, come off it. We're friends, then. Happy?"

Gloria lets out a pleased hum. "Very, actually. I'm glad the two of you have made up."

Bede resists his admittedly childish urge to blow a raspberry because... well, he supposes it is quite nice that they aren't at each other's throats anymore.

Bede eyes close again, happy to just leave it there, but after a few moments he feels how Gloria's fingers have started to slow, to hesitate.

"Promise me you won't hurt him."

Bede jolts at the sudden words. Any snark that would usually come out of his mouth with Gloria dies on his tongue because he can tell she's serious.

He... has no intention on hurting Hop. He can understand her trepidation, though. He's not exactly known for being the nicest person in Galar, and he has a history of hurting Hop quite severely already.

And a part of him is sure that it's only a matter of time before it happens again.

"I... don't plan to," Bede murmurs, heat flooding his cheeks from what is surely shame.

Gloria's fingers pause, her fingers briefly drumming on his scalp before she goes back to work. "I didn't mean it like that..." she says quietly, her touch slightly more gentle than it was before.

Bede wonders why she hasn't been this gentle the entire time, but he supposes there are more important matters right now.

Gloria begins to run her hands through the smoother parts of his hair soothingly, as if in apology. "You know I don't hold any that against you, and as far as I can tell, neither does Hop. Not any more, at least. I mean it when I say that I'm glad that the two of you are friends now."

Bede's cheeks continue to burn anyway. While he's still not the sort to spew out compliments to people, he's not sure he'll ever truly forgive himself for the sheer cruelty he showed Hop, among others, back then. He chooses not to argue, because she's already spent far too much time trying to convince him that he isn't Trubbish in human form.

It leaves him feeling confused, though. Why did she say it if it isn't a warning due to his past actions? He can feel Gloria's hesitation in her fingers, how they've started to play with his hair idly instead of working, clearly guessing his unspoken question.

"Hop's... a social animal. Loves to chatter away, could talk your head off about absolutely anything. He always just... thrives when he's with others." Bede lets out a small snort.

"Old news, no? I realised that the instant we met," he says. Gloria flicks his ear, causing him to pull away and move back to the sofa. If she's just going to just play with his hair, they can take a break. He crosses his arms and fixes her with a glare before sighing. "Go on..."

Gloria begins to play with the buttons on her cardigan, clearly insistent on fiddling with something now that his hair is out of reach. "Look... I think he's lonely, Bede. I'm not around as much as I'd like to be, and Victor isn't around at all anymore."

Bede frowns at that. He supposes he can see that. He's not sure what Hop even does to fill out his days other than work, work, and more work.

Gloria sighs heavily, then purses her lips as if she's trying to decide whether or not to mention something. "Look... far too many of the people he cares about have hurt him. I just don't want you to become one of them," she says.

Bede's eyes widen in surprise when Gloria mentions Hop caring about him, but... he supposes it's true in a sense. He can begrudgingly admit that he has come to care about Hop, and how he feels. It's just difficult imagining the opposite being true as well.

And he can understand how much more it can hurt when someone you care about hurts you. He knows first hand how quickly whatever armour you've built up for yourself can shatter in the face of betrayal from someone you trust. Something felt... off by the way Gloria spoke though, and it clicks in his mind.

Does she... include herself in that?

"Gloria..." he starts.

"Look," she puts her hands out to stop him from protesting, "I just... haven't been there for him as much as I should have been. Especially when..." she trails off and goes to bite her nails before catching herself.

Maybe he should just let it go, but Bede can't stop himself from prying. "Especially when...?" If Gloria wants to put her foot down, she can.

Gloria sighs and is silent for a few moments, as if mulling over whether she wants to talk about it or not. "You know that Victor's hiding out in the Crown Tundra, yeah?" she starts, and Bede is sure there's a more generous way of wording Victor's little quarter-life crisis than that, but he nods anyway.

Gloria lets out a frustrated sounding huff. "Well, I think he and Hop argued or something. Just before he left. Hop won't tell me anything about it and neither will Victor, when he actually answers his bloody phone," she spits, then wilts. "I don't know what happened between them, but whatever it was, it practically shattered Hop. He wasn't right for months."

Bede swallows. He doesn't like the sound of that, but if even Gloria doesn't know what happened then Hop will probably take it to his grave.

Gloria purses her lips. "Sorry. I wasn't being fair to Victor just now. Whatever it was, Victor hasn't been the same since either, but there's nothing either of us can do about it when he's in the Crown Tundra," she says, and Bede wonders if her saying that Victor is hiding is the truth after all.

Gloria starts to twirl her hair between her fingers. "Let me rephrase what I said earlier. Try to... look out for Hop, will you? For me? He worries me sick sometimes, and I don't get to see him that much anymore."

A small frown lands on Bede's face. He's not sure if he has much of a right to do that. His apology at the barbeque was tentative and half-hearted at best, simply raising his flag in surrender, so to speak. He feels like he has a lot more to actually apologise for, or at least more kindness to show before he can truly make up for ruining Hop's confidence.

Bede likes to consider himself an observant person. Understanding people is another can of worms, but he watches, and listens. He remembers when he first met Hop, how the boy seemed incapable of talking about anyone but himself, his dreams, his supposed battle prowess. Now, Hop will talk about anything but himself. He will still talk your ear off, but change the subject towards him, and he'll expertly dodge any probing with that stupid grin of his.

Bede can't shake the feeling that it's his fault. How could he possibly consider himself to be someone who can look out for Hop? When not long ago, he was part of the problem?

"Oi, quit beating yourself up. I can practically hear it."

Bede scowls indignantly. He'd ask Hop for tips on hiding his emotions if that wouldn't encourage bad habits. "Look, Gloria—"

"You don't have to do anything, just... keep being his friend, I guess," Gloria says. "You're doing good already. He seems happier these days than I've seen him in a long time, and I'm pretty sure the only thing that's actually changed in his life recently is you."

Bede's cheeks flare crimson. How could he have possibly done that? "You realise you're talking about me, yes? I don't make people happy."

Gloria rolls her eyes, a small smile landing on her face. "Well, proof is in the pudding. I think he was getting a bit miserable talking to no one except Sonia every day, so you've proper brightened up his life."

"Cut it out, will you? I'm not doing anything," Bede says quietly, then lets out a heavy exhale from his nose. "Fine. I'll... keep an eye on things."

Gloria gives a pleased nod. "Thank you. Now c'mere. Your Rookidee nest still needs fixing." Bede rolls his eyes, but obediently returns to his spot at the dining table.

He supposes that the first part of making up for what he did to Hop is to... well, actually start making up for it. If looking out for him counts, then he's... content to do so, and a part of him feels like someone needs to do it other than his boss.

He relaxes again as Gloria returns to work, and the lack of tugging on his scalp tells him that the worst of it is over. It's actually quiet a pleasant feeling. He lets out a soft exhale, and then hears the words he's been dreading since Gloria first walked in.

"So... girl talk."

Bede shudders. She and Marnie have forced him to participate in... girl talk for years. An attempt to include him, he's sure, since he hasn't really had friends that aren't girls until recently, but he can't help but feel like he's a victim of girl talk more than anything.

"Anyone around Ballonlea you fancy?" Gloria continues, and her fingers grip that little bit tighter onto his hair to make it clear that yes, this is a hostage situation.

"Need I tell you again, for the millionth time, that I'm far too busy to bother with any of that?" That combined with the fact that he has absolutely zero idea how romance is supposed to even work makes it incredibly low on his list of priorities.

"You can't be too busy to fancy someone. Date, maybe, but that's not what I asked," Gloria counters, and Bede lets out an exhale.

Does he like anyone that way? He doesn't really know what a real crush is supposed to feel like but he has a feeling Gloria will get all sad with him if he says that out loud, so he just shrugs. "Then no, I don't have any... romantic inclinations towards anyone right now."

Gloria just tsks, and goes back to work. Bede only gets a few seconds of silence before he can feel the mischief brewing behind him. "Well... any crushes when you were younger? Celebrity crushes, that sort of thing..." she says conspiratorially, almost as if she knows, even though there's no way she could possibly know.

Bede grits his teeth. "We are not doing this," he declares, and the second he says it, he regrets not instantly denying it because—

"Oh, so there is someone then?"

Because if you give Gloria an inch, she'll take a mile. Bede wants to launch himself out of the window. He might just prefer getting his head shaved by Marnie than talk about this.

"There isn't anyone right now, but fine. I can admit I had a small celebrity crush, at one brief point in my life, and no, I'm not telling you who." Bede puts on a show of nonchalance in an attempt to hide the fact that this is very possibly the most mortifying, embarrassing secret he has.

But he knows. He knows when Gloria sinks her jaws into something, there's no getting out. Hop must be stubborn as a Mudsdale to apparently be capable of escaping her.

"Oh, c'mon... you know the rules of girl talk. No secrets," Gloria says, and Bede scowls.

He can begrudgingly admit that these kind of talks with Gloria and Marnie have... helped him somewhat, over the years. They've made him open up in ways he never could have imagined doing, and a part of him knows he's much better off for it. He's not sure if talking about something as childish as old celebrity crushes is especially good for his soul, though.

He gets an idea, and a sly smirk crosses his lips because girl talk goes both ways. "How is your hopeless crush on Marnie going?" he says, the sensation of victory blooming in his chest. Take that, Gloria.

He feels Gloria shrug behind him. "Oh, yeah. We're together now," she says calmly, and Bede's face cracks.

"Wh— since when?!" he splutters, pulling forward and turning his chair around to check Gloria's face, and he can immediately tell she isn't lying. This can't be happening. His only ammo against the two of them is disappearing in front of his very eyes.

"A week ago," Gloria replies, and Bede can tell that she's suppressing a snicker.

His eye twitches. "And you planned on telling me when, exactly?"

Gloria lets out a thoughtful hum that Bede can tell is an act. "I was gonna keep it secret, but you asked during girl talk, so..." she trails off.

Bede's lips curl into a deep pout. She had planned this all along, and he's fallen into her trap. This is the second worst betrayal of his life, and now...

"Now it's your turn to spill. You know the rules."

Rule one of girl talk - a secret for a secret. Somehow, despite all of his defeats against Gloria, this feels the most crushing of them all.

Gloria leans back against the wall, a smug expression on her face as she waits. Bede nervously plays with his fingers. This is the worst day of his life. He just mumbles the answer under his breath, and Gloria puts a hand to her ear.

"What was that?"

He considers letting Hatterene out of her ball, have her chase Gloria all the way back to Wyndon, but no, he's better than that now. He's not supposed to let his temper control his actions anymore. He wishes he could bring back the boy he was in the orphanage, just this one time.

He quietly seethes to himself for a few more moments, before finally relenting and uttering the terrible, terrible truth.

"Leon..."

Gloria chokes, before doubling over in laughter. She finally release Bede from her clutches so he stands. "Stop. Laughing," he hisses, fists clenched. "It's against your precious rules." This is unbelievable, an utter desecration of the sanctity of girl talk!

Gloria at least attempts to stop laughing, but Bede can't say she's very successful at it. "It's just... really? I'd have thought you'd have liked some model, or something."

Bede scowls indignantly. "I don't get crushes over... superficial beauty," he hisses. His younger self valued perseverance and strength in battle more than anything, and sadly Leon had both of those things in droves. It led to him becoming a semblance of an idol to Bede and a small, emphasis on small, crush developed through that.

Gloria's laughter dissipates into a snicker. "Still. Would have expected you to be more of a Raihan bloke."

"Absolutely not. I also don't crush on compulsive losers," Bede says, fully aware that he's essentially replaced Raihan as the Champion's compulsive loser rival. Also, the idea of having a crush on Raihan just might turn him green even more than crushing on Leon. "You tell a soul and I'll—"

"I won't," Gloria quickly promises, and she seems honest at least. Thank Arceus Marnie isn't here, because she'd hold it over his head for the rest of his wretched life. At least Gloria won't prattle on about it. "Thank you for telling me," she adds, and Bede narrows his eyes. How she's managed to make him feel lighter for telling her this embarrassing secret, he has no idea.

"You'd better not," Bede warns, his shoulders relaxing. "And are you bloody finished with..." He runs a hand through his hair and it doesn't get stuck for once. He lets out a small huff. "Thank you... for helping." And hopefully taking his secret to the grave.

Gloria is already packing her bag back up. "S'no problem. Just promise me you won't take so long to tell me you need help with something next time, yeah?" she says, glaring at him in a way that feels like half-threat and half-concern.

Bede hums. "I'll do my best," he says simply, and Gloria gives a placated nod.

She leaves soon after that, as eternally busy with Champion business as she is. Bede is thankful that she made the time for him in her schedule, as simultaneously un-thankful as he is that she always insists on extracting his deepest darkest secrets.

He sits on the sofa and cringes to himself. Bloody Leon, of all people.

It's not like it was a real crush. Just the combination of admiration and an admittedly attractive face. It died pretty quickly upon realising that Leon is actually quite the simpleton outside of battle, and died even harder when he became the scary older brother of the kid he bullied.

Eugh.

The conversation does make him think, though. Twenty years is an awful long time to apparently not have ever had actual romantic feelings for someone. He doesn't think he's ever had such feelings, at least.

He's not sure he gets it. Any... physicality in his life is about as begrudging as it gets, and he can't imagine actively wanting it unless he's terribly upset.

It's not even like he knows that many people. He may be Ballonlea's Gym Leader, but he doesn't actually know many of its inhabitants personally. That's fine for him, and the people of Ballonlea have accepted that he's far from a social creature.

It does leave the dating pool a bit thin, though.

Bede puts his head into his hands. He's not sure why he's even entertaining this. He doesn't get actual crushes and he doesn't fall in love. It's as simple as that. He just simply can't imagine himself wanting to be with someone every day of his life, and that's perfectly fine.

His phone buzzes.

"Bzzzzt! Message from Hop!" the Rotom exclaims loudly, and Bede frowns.

"Can you stop screaming aloud every time I get a message?" It's embarrassing enough that he's stopped taking his phone to work because his Trainers keep making fun of him.

"Bzzzzt! It's in the phone's settings!"

"I don't know how to—" Bede pinches his nose. He's gone through enough stress today. His battle against technology can continue another time.

When he checks his messages, he sees that Hop has sent a photo of himself, grinning as he throws up a peace sign with the rest of his team in the background.

"Trying out battling in the Wild Area again!"

Bede smiles softly to himself. He's glad that Hop is apparently starting to overcome whatever fear of battling he's had in the last few years. He remembers what Gloria had said, that he is somehow responsible for Hop's improved mood these days, and his cheeks start to heat up. He's done absolutely nothing to deserve that.

It's been a week since their little day out. He can't believe he's been on a day out with Hop of all people, but his life has already taken countless twists and turns that he never could have predicted. What's one more?

Hop is... easy to be around. Strangely so. His patience for social interaction is usually quite limited, but somehow whenever he's with Hop a part of him is always a bit disappointed when they part ways.

He wonders if there's room for them to... hang out more often, whatever that would actually entail. If Hop has been out battling in the Wild Area, he maybe wouldn't mind joining him. As long as Hop doesn't mind of course. Bede isn't the sort to usually like company when training his pokémon, but it would be... efficient to have another trainer there. Especially one as talented as Hop. It would be a fantastic opportunity for his pokémon and has nothing to do with—

His eyes widen. No. There's no way. It's not possible, but it's as if whatever whirlwind of confusing feelings overtook his mind that day back in Motostoke and the Slumbering Weald has suddenly come into focus.

He has a crush on Hop.

Hop spent most of his life in Postwick alone, especially after Lee left.

A shocker, maybe. Most people always seemed to assume that he was quite adept at making friends. His mum did, at least. How could precious, perfectly pleasant Hop possibly be struggling to make friends?

He could admit that he was quite sociable, and he did do his best to maintain a positive attitude whenever he could, but sadly a lot of that translated to most people finding him annoying to be around.

On top of it all, it's not as if there were any kids in Postwick his age anyway. The only ones he ever saw were those that would sometimes come from Wedgehurst, roaming through Postwick's fields as if they owned the place. He tried to make friends with them, but that didn't exactly go very well.

Good riddance, Hop thought. He didn't want to be friends with the sort that chucked rocks at Wooloo anyway, and his attempt to tell them off over it simply led to said rocks being flung his way instead.

One of Hop's favourite people was the old woman who lived in the house nearest to his. As far as he knew, she didn't have any children or grandchildren, or none that would ever visit her at least. Hop thought that was sad, so he always did his best to visit her every day and made sure he offered to help her in any way he could.

He was distraught when one day, his mum informed him that she had passed away. He was practically inconsolable afterwards.

"Don't fret, Hop," his mum said. "She lived a long life, and you did very well to ensure that she didn't spend her final years alone."

Pride bloomed in Hop's chest, but it didn't otherwise do much to placate him. His mum said that one day soon, someone new would move in, someone new that he could get close to all over again. Hop wasn't convinced, though. He doubted that whoever was going to move in would be as nice as its previous owner.

He was nine years old when everything in his life changed.

Hop let out a yawn. The gate to his family's Wooloo pen had somehow broken open earlier, and their Wooloo ended up all over Postwick. He'd spent the last hour or so wrangling them up while his granddad fixed up the gate. It was hard work, but Hop would have been lying if he said it wasn't fun. It wasn't often that anything happened in Postwick.

He lied down on the hill that overlooked the village and closed his eyes, allowing the sun's rays to warm his face. It wasn't an especially warm day, so he was seeking out whatever heat he could. He instinctively frowned when he felt the sunlight get blocked, and opened his eyes to see—

Now, Hop could admit that screaming into the face of one of his new neighbours wasn't exactly the most pleasant meeting on his part, but then maybe the other boy shouldn't have got so close to his face in the first place.

Once Hop's heart had stopped racing, and the new boy was no longer doubled over in laughter, Hop asked him his name.

"Victor!" the boy replied with a grin.

The tantalising smell of curry carried heavily through the camp, and frankly, Hop had no idea such smells were even possible with just a pot and a campfire.

"Bloody hell, Vic, I dunno how you manage it. What am I gonna do if I have to camp on my own?" Hop said, salivating at the thought of the meal ahead of him. His mum was a good cook, but this was a whole new level.

Victor just smiled, but Hop could see the pride underlying it. Which was good because, in Hop's opinion, Victor had plenty to be proud of. A great trainer and an absolutely ace cook while he was at it.

And other things. Things Hop thought he'd never say aloud, at the time at least.

"You just need to pay more attention, Hop," Victor eventually said, a small teasing smirk on his lips. Hop stuck out his lower lip, mostly because it was true. He just didn't have the attention span for it. He always either burnt his curries, or stirred them so hard the pot would tip over.

"Alright, fair, but that can't be all it is. What's your secret? You're bloody fourteen, and you're already making better food than my mum!" His mum's food was good, but Victor's was absolutely heavenly, and he was only getting better and better.

Victor looked thoughtful, before grinning. "You just have to put in a bit of love!" he said, then made a heart symbol with his fingers before mimicking dropping it in. Hop couldn't stop himself from spluttering. His own heart would probably explode if he thought about that too much.

"You're ridiculous..." he eventually muttered, turning to face away from the fire and the curry of his dreams. Victor was obviously lying, because the food smelled incredible long before he did that, and while he was aware that his mum loved Lee quite a bit more than she loved him, he was sure she did at least still love him.

Victor snickered softly to himself, clearly quite pleased with himself for how much he had flustered Hop.

The first spoonful of curry passed Hop's lips and... it was good. Better than ever, maybe. The second Victor first spoke with that man they found in the Wild Area who had told them all about how different combinations of berries affect the curries you make, he was hooked. While Hop was very much a fan of good food, actually cooking it was an entirely separate thing that made him want to dunk his own head into the steaming hot pot whenever he did it.

Still, the fresh chunks of sausage they'd bought from the man sat heavy in Hop's mouth, and he struggled to swallow, too immersed in watching Victor's focused face as he sampled his own concoction.

"I think I burnt the sausage a bit," Victor said after swallowing, and it reminded Hop to finally do the same. Hop shook his head.

"Nah, mate. That's extra flavour!" he said with a tap on his stomach, and Victor rolled his eyes playfully.

"You like burnt toast, so excuse me if I don't take that to heart," Victor replied with a small, teasing smile.

"And you don't even like tea. How can you call yourself Galarian?"

Victor just rolled his eyes, clearly unwilling to defend his terrible opinions for the millionth time. He pulled out a notebook and began to scribble some notes, surely about the curry he had just made. He'd made quite the habit of it by now.

Hop craned his neck in an attempt to read Victor's writing. "You're really taking this seriously, aren't you?" Hop asked.

Victor's pen stilled, and then he just hummed a little absently. "I just think it's cool, that's all."

Hop very much wanted to throttle himself in that moment because he hadn't meant to make Victor self-conscious about it. "Don't mean it like that, mate. It is cool!" he said honestly. He could see Victor start to chew the inside of his cheek before letting out a small exhale and smiling.

"Sorry. Sometimes I just feel like it's a bit of a waste of effort. That all of... this is just a distraction from battling," he said, gesturing to the pot that Hop would definitely insist on cleaning later, then let out a small bitter sounding scoff that made Hop think that he was definitely still feeling that way. "Ain't gonna become Champion if I don't give it my all, eh?"

Hop frowned. Sometimes, he felt honoured to see this side of Victor, an honest, vulnerable side that conflicted with the confidence and bravado he showed to everyone else during the day. Honoured to see it, maybe, but that didn't mean he liked that Victor had these insecurities in the first place. "Come on, mate. An interest in cooking ain't gonna affect your battling," he said. "And 'sides, your pokémon love it too." He nodded towards Victor's Grookey, who looked as pleased with his portion as Hop was with his.

Victor hesitated, then smiled. "Suppose you're right." He patted Grookey on the head, then looked back up. "Thanks, Hop," he said, and Hop grinned in return. He might have also wanted to be Champion, but if he did lose, he hoped Victor would win instead. Or Glo. They were his best friends.

Butterfree fluttered around in Hop's stomach, because he knew he felt more than that, for Victor at least. He'd had a crush on both of the siblings a year ago, but while his crush on Gloria had faded away by now, his crush on Victor had turned into an inferno of confusing feelings that he didn't know what to do with.

Victor was determined, was always so passionate about everything he did, whether it was through his confidence and enthusiasm in battle during the day, or in his quiet note-taking around the camp fire late at night. Hop felt like Victor could move mountains if he tried hard enough. Far better than himself, who felt tears well in his eyes whenever he lost to some random trainer.

He swallowed heavily, because this wasn't the time for such feelings, if there ever even would be a time.

There were just more important things to focus on.

The ice-cold wind chilled Hop to the bone as he stomped through the snow. It was dark already and he needed to make camp soon, but the ground was too uneven, the snow too deep for him to have any chance of setting up his tent here.

He just had to keep going.

He shivered heavily. It had been hours since he'd set off from Circhester, far later than Victor and Gloria had. He was just too weak to beat the Gym the first time, or the second time, or the third, and so they'd moved on without him. Of course they did. Why would they bother carrying dead weight around with them? The Gym Challenge had a deadline, and he was cutting it close. No point in dragging them down with him.

It was times like these, that the dark thoughts that swirled around in his mind every single day felt the loudest. He was embarrassing himself, embarrassing his friends, embarrassing his family, and had been tarnishing his brother's reputation every single day of the Gym Challenge so far.

Every night, he tuned his radio to the talk shows - the ones that would talk about the Gym Challenge and the up-and-comers participating in it. He heard how he went from being the favourite to reach the finals, to just 'one to watch', to no longer getting mentioned at all.

He didn't bother with the radio anymore.

The ground beneath Hop's feet suddenly gave way, and he fell, tumbling uncontrollably down a steep hill. By the time he reached the bottom, he was winded and freezing cold. He pulled himself up to a single knee, taking a deep inhale of frigid air once he finally could. He wasn't sure if he wanted to scream in anger or wail in despair, but a choked sob was all he could manage.

He needed to get warm, knew that there was now a very real possibility that he would die out here. He pulled his bag off his back, checked his tent and—

It was ripped. Unusable.

A small, manic laugh escaped Hop's lips. What a way to die. Freezing to death just because he wanted to catch up to his friends, because he couldn't face the reality that he was just worse than they were. He was pathetic, and soon the news would be filled with stories about how the Champion's sad, nameless little brother had died in the snow, when all he ever wanted was to make his own name for himself, to finally be more than just someone's little brother.

He clenched his fist, snow crunching between his fingers, and slapped himself on the cheek, hard. He could mope all he liked, but he wasn't a quitter. He knew Spikemuth was still far away, that he would have to cross glacial waters to reach it, but he was not the sort to give up.

He had been delusional all Gym Challenge long. Why give up now?

His vision was blurred by the time he saw the light, the only discernible anything he'd seen for hours. He saw how the figure with the red coat stood from his spot next to the campfire, and...

"Hop? What the fuck, are you—"

Hop fell to the floor, dirt filling his vision. Actual, honest to Arceus dirt, the snow around the campfire having melted away the snow to expose the ground below. Hop never wanted to see the colour white ever again. He felt arms wrap around him and pull him up, guiding him towards the flames.

When his brain finally started to feel like it was working again, he had two blankets wrapped over his shoulders and was holding a flask of what was surely tea. The smell of curry filled his nostrils. It smelled good, on paper, but the strength of it all turned him a bit sick.

Victor's eyes locked with his, and they lit up in acknowledgement of the fact that Hop was coming to. He chewed his cheek nervously, before frowning. "Hop... what the hell were you doing out there? What happened?" He gestured towards Hop's bag and tent, which was practically in tatters.

"Fell," Hop replied simply, voice still shaky. There just wasn't anything else to say.

Victor's frown only deepened, but he didn't argue. Hop idly swirled the tea in the flask and took a sip. "How come you... have tea with you?" Hop asked, just looking to fill the terrible silence that he felt had overtaken them, and Victor looked at him as if he was stupid.

"Because you like tea," he said as if it was obvious, which... maybe it was, in hindsight. Victor didn't like hot drinks at all, so he obviously kept tea bags with him for Hop's sake, and maybe Glo's.

Even with his mind as frozen up as it still was, Hop couldn't help but feel embarrassed at how thoughtful Victor was. He took another sip of the tea, and wondered if Victor had put a little bit of love into that as well.

It tasted like it did.

After a few more minutes, Victor plated up what Hop only then realised was just a single serving of curry, and placed it into his lap. Victor must have already eaten. He wanted to argue, but now that he was coming around, he was starting to realise that he was starving.

"It's rubbish, but you need to eat something," Victor said, and his worry was clear as day.

Hop gave a small nod and began to eat, no matter how much his stomach threatened to throw it back up. "S'not rubbish," he said quietly, because nothing Victor ever did was rubbish.

Victor just stared as Hop ate, clearly waiting for him to finish before inevitably giving him a grilling about how reckless he was, like he had heard a million times from Glo already. Hop finished as much of the curry as he could, and immediately hung his head in anticipation.

What Hop didn't expect was how Victor took his bowl into his hands and practically threw it into the snow before pulling him into a tight hug. Hop's breath hitched as he returned it, and Victor eventually pulled back, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Hop... please talk to me. You don't tell me anything anymore and I'm..." He let out a small sob, and despite the increasing intensity of his words, he tried to keep his voice hushed. "I'm just so bloody worried about you! Why are you wandering out in the dark at this time of night? Do you have a bloody death wish?!"

A sob wracked through Hop's own body. "I... I just..." He sniffled. He hadn't meant to. He hadn't been thinking straight for what had felt like weeks, operating completely on autopilot. "I didn't realise it would be this bad..." he croaked, and he wasn't sure if he meant the cold, or... everything.

Victor frowned, clearly dissatisfied with the vagueness of it all. He jabbed a finger into Hop's chest. "Whatever your stupid head has been telling you, it's wrong," he said, and the sheer absurdity of his wording made a surprised, nervous laugh escape Hop's lips. "I mean it," Victor insisted. "I don't care what you think, you are an amazing trainer. A few hiccups in the Gyms won't matter in the end."

Hop scoffed bitterly. "If I even beat all of the Gyms at all..." he muttered. Or even reach Spikemuth at this rate.

"Cut it out," Victor scolds, and Hop couldn't help but think about how much he sounded like Gloria in that moment. "You will beat the Gyms and you will bounce back. I know you will," he said, and Hop snorted derisively.

"And how could you possibly know that? I'm bloody rubbish at battling and—"

"You're not!" Victor argued, a fire burning in his eyes. "You're already an incredible trainer, and you've only started to falter ever since that Wooloo headed twat put all of those negative thoughts in your head," he said, which... wasn't really true. Hop's insecurities had been there all along, Bede had just brought them to the surface.

Still, maybe Victor had a point. He was second guessing everything he did, constantly switching up his team in a fruitless attempt to create the perfect one, but then they wouldn't listen to him because they didn't know each other that well and—

He missed his Dubwool. He missed the fun they used to have battling together, but he'd struggled against Bea in Stow-on-Side and left Dubwool, his Dubwool, his very first, most cherished pokémon in a box ever since. He'd struggled to develop such a connection with most of his other pokémon, too focused on battle to give them the attention they deserved.

He remembered the promise he'd when he was just a little Wooloo. He'd promised that they'd stick together, no matter what.

He was a rotten trainer, and it wasn't because of his lack of battle prowess. Deep down, he knew that he hadn't treated his pokémon with the love that they deserved, too preoccupied with his own problems.

Hop wasn't sure when he'd become so selfish, so unbelievably self-absorbed.

Hop hiccupped as tears started to properly fall down his cheeks, and Victor began to wipe them away with his thumbs. "I know you can do this, Hop. You're the strongest person I know, and I believe in you," he said, and Hop could feel the truth in his words, the genuine belief in what he was saying.

Hop allowed himself to cry, to finally let go of everything he had bottled up over the last few weeks as Victor rubbed soothing circles into his back. His crying eventually faded to just sniffles, and he tried to pull himself back together.

Victor tilted Hop's chin up so that he could look him in the eye. "Spikemuth won't know what hit it, eh?" he said with a wink, but he looked like he was barely holding himself together as well. Still, Hop managed a smile. "There we go! And we don't want to prove Wooloo-head right, do we?" he said with a conspiratorial smirk, and Hop laughed airily because that might just have been even more motivating than Victor's support.

"Definitely not," he agreed, his smile more genuine now.

Hop's eyes danced over Victor's boyish features, his face so close, gently illuminated in a faint orange glow, and realised in that moment that he would happily spend every day of the rest of his life with the boy if he could.

Hop bounced back, just as Victor said he would. He beat both Piers and Raihan first try, feeling more connected to his team than ever as he allowed them the freedom to fight the way that they wanted to. No more over-strategising, no more pouring over battle tactics late at night. Now, both he and his pokémon fought with their guts and their instincts alone.

Reality was starting to sink in. He, Vic, and Glo had all made it to the quarter-finals, but only one of them could possibly actually make it to the final. The thought made Hop feel sick. All three of them had given everything they had to get this far, and yet only one of them could possibly achieve their dream.

His hands trembled as he walked onto the pitch to face Victor in the quarter-final. This was it. One of their dreams would be crushed by the end of this battle. They locked eyes across the pitch, and Hop saw the unwavering determination in Victor's eyes. Victor was his best friend, and... the person that Hop loved most. But in that moment they were opponents, and if Victor wasn't about to pack in the towel...

Then neither was he.

Hop steeled himself, and threw out Dubwool's pokéball.

In the end, none of it really mattered because Gloria destroyed every single one of them, Lee included. Wooloo-head even crashed the final because he also wanted to get floored just like everyone else had, apparently.

In the aftermath, Hop at least found something that felt a bit more like his calling. He loved pokémon, more than anything. He loved the bonds he'd forged with his team, and was quite frankly sick of trying to be his older brother and staking his entire self-worth on his capabilities in battle. So when Sonia gave him the offer to be her assistant in and in turn, essentially be her apprentice, he snatched up the opportunity.

Was it a hasty decision? Maybe. Maybe he should have thought things through more, given that some days he was just as stressed out of his bloody mind as he was in the Gym Challenge, but he had no real regrets in the choices he made in the wake of his loss. He had a stable life, one with an incredible position in his future.

Victor received no such privilege.

It broke Hop's heart to see just how lost Victor was after the Gym Challenge. Marnie ended up taking over the Dark Gym, placated by Gloria and Lee's efforts to improve conditions in Spikemuth now that Rose was gone, and Bede ended up taking over the Fairy Gym from Opal. And also he was nicer now. Allegedly.

No such opportunities fell into Victor's lap, and Hop felt like he could only watch over the following years as Victor slowly became a shell of his former self. They still spoke often - almost every night Hop would call him and they'd talk late, sometimes even into the early hours of the morning, but Hop could tell how Victor's lack of direction, his lack of a goal to work towards was tearing him apart, piece by piece.

His love for Victor hadn't faded, had maybe even intensified, but it just never felt the right time to bring it up. Hop could be patient, was willing to wait for Victor to find his calling in life before saddling him with his feelings.

The longer he waited, though, the more unbearable it became.

"I'm going to the Crown Tundra."

Hop raised his eyebrows, his attention immediately being pulled from his analysis of data from the lab's most recent tests and towards Victor who had been lying on the lab's sofa. "Oh... right?" he said lamely. It didn't exactly seem like a nice place for a holiday, in Hop's opinion.

Victor hummed. "Heard there are some strong trainers there. Rare pokémon, stuff like that..." he just said, and Hop couldn't help but feel like something was off.

"Right... well, how long you planning on being there for?" Hop asked. It wouldn't be fun, but he could last a few weeks without Victor if he had to. They talk over the phone half of the time anyway.

A silence stretched out, and Hop knew. He knew exactly what was happening. "I don't know, Hop. It might be a long time," Victor admitted, and a part of Hop had known that this was coming, that this wasn't a holiday. Victor was leaving, possibly for good.

Hop swallowed heavily, but he forced a smile. "Oh, well... you'll keep in touch though, won't you mate?" he said, and hoped against hope that Victor would at least find whatever it was he was looking for there.

A shiver tore through Hop's body, and he was unsure if it was because of the winter chill, or his anxiety spiking over what was to come.

The platform was almost empty other than Hop and Victor when the trains started to pull into the station. Everyone had wanted to come to say goodbye to Victor, but in the end, Hop was the only one who had been able to make it there at the time Victor's train was supposed to leave.

Hop wondered had chosen the awkward time on purpose, chosen a time so that his departure had as little fanfare as possible. He'd already distanced himself from Gloria, and never really made friends with the Gym Leaders like Hop had.

The train came to a stop. It was the end of the line, so they had a few minutes until Victor would have to board. "So... I suppose this is goodbye, eh?" Hop said, trying to ignore the sense of overwhelming numbness that had overtaken him ever since Victor had first said he was leaving.

Victor gave a small nod. "I'll... I'll call you, okay? Maybe not tonight, but... tomorrow night, maybe," he said, his lips quirking into a small smile. That felt reassuring, at least. It's not like he'd be... gone gone.

Hop nodded dumbly in response. He still couldn't believe that Victor was leaving, that such an important part of his life just wasn't going to be there anymore, at least not in the same way as before.

This wasn't the first time this had happened. Lee disappeared when he became Champion, and pretty much stayed gone even when he was finally defeated. Glo followed in the exact same footsteps, too busy to ever actually come home, even though he knew she was trying her best. And now Victor was leaving him behind too.

Although, Hop wondered. When he became Sonia's assistant, was he the one who left Victor behind?

Hop took a stuttering breath. It just wasn't fair. None of it was fair! He loved Victor, wanted to spend every bloody day of his life with him, but Victor was leaving because he didn't feel like there was anything in Galar worth staying for. They'd talk sometimes, yes, but that just wasn't good enough in Hop's eyes.

It wasn't good enough.

A thought crossed Hop's mind, a terrible, terrible thought that he would quickly come to regret ever having, but he was desperate. If anything could get Victor to stay in Galar, it was this.

"Vic..." he said breathlessly, unsure of what he even truly planned to say. "I need to tell you something. Before you go."

Victor's eyebrows raised, and the way his eyes darted back and forth between Hop and the train made it abundantly clear how little time they had left. "Yeah...? What is it?"

Hop took a deep breath, and spoke his truth. He spoke from the bottom of his heart the feelings that he'd felt since they were teenagers, of the feelings that once made him kick his feet like a lovestruck schoolgirl, of the feelings that had begun to tear him apart from the inside out.

And Victor looked as if Hop had spewed poison into his face.

"L-look, Hop, I can't..." the train doors chimed to indicate that they'd be closing shortly, and Hop knew that they were out of time. "I'll- I'll call you, okay?" Victor quickly said, and then he was gone.

Victor didn't call. Not that night, or the night after. Or the night after that.

Foolishly, Hop held out hope for a while, hope that Victor would find his words, would just tell him his thoughts even if it would inevitably lead to rejection, but the day never came. All the promises Victor had made to stay in touch fell through, and Hop knew it was his own fault, knew that his greed had ruined everything they had together. That his disgusting, poisonous thoughts had—

Hop's nails scrape harshly against the surface of his desk as he balls his hands into fists, then he takes a deep breath. He shifts in his seat, his bedroom illuminated by nothing except his laptop screen. A drained mug of coffee sits to his left, old habits having sprung up again as he works late into the night.

He tries to refocus. He's trying to look for inspiration for his dissertation. Maybe it's too early to be thinking so hard about it, but eight months from now he's expected to turn in a research paper of his own doing, and he's utterly stumped over what to write about. The hottest field in Galarian pokémon science right now is dynamax theory, but Hop doesn't think he needs to explain why he wants to stay far, far away from anything to do with that.

He sighs softly to himself. He should have gone to bed hours ago, but no amount of Bede's tea could settle him tonight, so he thought he'd may as well try to get some work done. If you can count staring at a laptop screen without actually reading anything, work.

The dark thoughts start to filter slowly back into his brain, the way they often do at this time of night, the times when he would once speak softly into his phone, an adoring smile on his face while Victor would recap his day.

He misses those moments in his life dearly.

He's no longer in love with Victor. Not anymore. It would be stupid of him to pretend that there's still a chance between them, so the feelings have long since faded. All he wants now is his best friend back, but even that feels like an impossibility after what he did. He made his bed. Now he has to lay in it.

Hop's eyes drift back to his phone, which has sat on his desk for the last few minutes open on Victor's contact page. His thumb hovers briefly over the call button, the way it has countless late nights before, only for him to back out the way he always does.

There was once a time when love had felt like the most beautiful thing in the world. Now, it just makes Hop feel sick. If such feelings caused this, then what good were they in the end?

He stares at Victor's contact photo. It wasn't especially up to date even before Victor left, and it leaves him wondering what Victor looks like now, after two whole years. Has his permanent baby face grown stubble now? Maybe he’s grown out his hair. Hop wonders if he'd even recognise him, if they saw each other again.

He lets out a sharp exhale through his nose. Whatever Victor looks like now, it doesn't matter. Victor clearly has no intent on Hop ever seeing the person he's become. Hop ruined any chance of that when he revealed the sort of person he is.

Hop's thumb hovers over the screen again, but not over the call button this time. Adrenaline starts to pump through his veins, and he presses down.

And deletes Victor's contact.

As soon as he does so, he covers his mouth with his hand, tears immediately bubbling in the corners of his eyes. He's finally letting Victor go, so why doesn't he feel relieved? Why doesn't it feel like closure? Why does it feel like he's done something terribly, monstrously wrong?

Hop stands, and collapses into bed, bundling the covers over his face as he silently weeps. Love has never done anything good for him, and he intends to never let himself feel such a thing ever again.

Gloria's head turns left, to right, and then left again, as if watching a tennis match.

"But it's boring!"

"Vanilla isn't boring. It's objectively the best flavour."

"But it's the default! The first flavour, and therefore! Boring!"

"It's the default because it's the best."

"Not how it works, mate."

"Yes, it is! And it's far better than your chocolate mess that's just sugar upon sugar."

"Don't think I don't see all those syrups you've poured over yours."

"That's beside the point. You're aware that wars have been fought over vanilla beans, correct?"

"Yeah, because they hadn't invented chocolate yet."

"Yes, they had— ugh, you're unbelievable."

Hop breaks into a fit of giggles in response as Bede huffs and looks away, doing a frankly terrible job of suppressing a smile of his own.

And Gloria is left wondering when the fuck this happened.

The three of them are currently sitting at a table outside the ice cream shop in Hammerlocke, and it's the first time they've hung out together since Bede and Hop... buried the hatchet, Gloria supposes. And while Gloria is aware that they've become more than just cordial with each other over the last few weeks...

This is something else.

They've been quarrelling for the last hour, but it's a far cry from the icy exchanges of before, the ones that made it abundantly clear that they were only tolerating each other (if you could even call it that) for her sake. Now they're squabbling like an old married couple.

Bede's phone vibrates, and when he checks it, he lets out an almost disappointed-sounding huff. "And that's time for me to go," he says, having already told them that he has a meeting today and that he therefore won't be able to be with them the entire day. He only managed to turn up at all because the meeting is also in Hammerlocke.

Though he won't tell him who the meeting is even with, which is downright suspicious in Gloria's opinion.

Hop groans upon hearing the news, but he doesn't fight it. "Can't believe you're ditching us for some boring meeting. What even is it, anyway?" he whines.

Bede rolls his eyes and ignores him, looking to Gloria instead. "See you on the pitch, Champion," he says with a smirk, before turning back to Hop, his voice actually softening. "I'll text you later, okay?"

Hop huffs. "Fine... see ya, Bede," he says, and Bede heads off with a wave to them both.

It takes everything in Gloria for her jaw not to hit the floor. Something is up, and she will get to the bottom of it.

Hop stretches his arms above his head as he walks down Hammerlocke's main street. He's not sure what Glo has in mind for the rest of the day, but he's sure it'll be fun enough, even if it's a bit disappointing that Bede had to leave early.

His hand drifts down to his belt, thumb brushing against the curve of Dubwool's pokéball. He's actually finding himself itching for a battle, to his own surprise more than anyone's. He's been spending some time in the Wild Area recently, looking to shake the rust from his team, not that there was much rust in the first place. He still firmly believes in trusting them to make their own decisions a lot of the time, a revelation that was the main reason he didn't totally lose his mind back in the Gym Challenge.

He's the rusty one, if anything.

He did end up visiting Lee at the Battle Tower, though not for very long, because a trip to Wyndon is a few hours of travelling, both ways. It was an exhausting experience, but it was... fun in a way. Even if it's not a trip he feels like he'll be up to very often, at least not unless he can get more than one day off.

The irony isn't lost on him, that he hates how little he gets to see Lee, while also fully acknowledging that the sheer amount of distance between them every day means that any trip to see each other is an absolutely exhausting experience every time.

He's starting to understand that their relationship goes both ways, or at least that it does now. He isn't quite sure if he truly forgives his older brother for his absences for half of his life, but they're both adults now. He loves Lee, and he's slowly realising that he has his own part to play in bridging the gap between them, now that he's old enough to do so.

Which means there's plenty more visits to Wyndon in his future. Grand. He's not sure what Lee likes so much about the place.

Back on the topic of battle... It's been fun, in a low-stakes sort of way. Lee insisted that he should make his way through the Battle Tower from the very bottom, and while Hop did feel a bit bad for trouncing literal children, he still had a good time.

He backed out once he reached Lee, though. He knows he can't exclusively challenge people he knows he'll beat, but he still doesn't think he's ready to relive the experience of getting his shit rocked like he did in the Gym Challenge, too worried that it'll dredge up emotions he never wants to feel again.

It's still hard for him not to still feel like he's in Lee's shadow sometimes, but he's getting better at it, he thinks. The conscious part of his mind understands that they're different people doing different things, and he no longer puts all of his self-worth on how effectively he's able to copy his big brother anymore.

Also, he's taller now, which helps.

Hop opens his mouth to speak, but a squeak is all that comes out as he gets shoved into an alley, with Gloria absolutely glaring at him for some reason.

Okay, fine, it wasn't really a shove. It was more like a gentle guide which Hop apparently obediently followed because he wasn't paying attention, too lost in his own thoughts. Still, how dare she?

"Oi, what's the problem?" he asks, already squirming uncomfortably because whenever Gloria looks this intense, it's bad news.

"What's going on?" she asks, and her tone makes it abundantly clear that this is an accusation of some sort, but Hop has no idea what she's talking about.

"Err... can you give me a hint at what you're on about?" He doesn't remember doing anything weird. It's been a good day so far!

Gloria's eyes narrow. "You and Bede," she says simply.

Hop scratches his head. He supposes they sort of argued again. But they were just messing around!

"Sorry, Glo. We weren't arguing for real!" he says with a grin. She must think that they're going back to their old ways.

Except Gloria is looking at him as if he's incredibly, deeply, unfathomably stupid.

"I know, because the two of you were flirting," she says with a jab into his chest, which is a frankly scandalous accusation, one that enflames Hop's cheeks to a degree he's not sure he's ever experienced before.

"We weren't flirting!" Hop splutters, his voice rising an octave as he says that dreadful word. He can admit that it's fun to bicker with Bede because he's always so opinionated about everything, and his whole... posh manner of speaking that used to annoy him to no end comes across as more funny to him now than anything. But none of what just happened was flirting.

He doesn't believe in that stuff anymore. His first and only crush led to an experience so soul-destroying he's still not sure he's recovered. Scratch that, he definitely hasn't recovered. He's not so stupid as to think swearing off romance forever is healthy behaviour, at least given the knowledge that a part of him does want it, once craved it so much that it caused his chest to ache every time he had to hang up on—

Don't think about him.

Gloria's eyes scan Hop's face, and he can tell that she's detected the sudden downturn in his mood. "Hop..." she starts, and he knows the concern is coming, the way it always does when he gets like this.

He doesn't mind it. It's nice to be cared for. But he doesn't have any intent on telling her a word. There's nothing she can do to help, so there's no point in burdening her with his problems.

"M'fine, Glo! Was just a bit lost in thought for a sec, there," he says, waving her off. "And Bede and I are just friends. Sorry to disappoint," he adds with a wink, well aware that the last part will get under her skin. It's the best way of distracting her from talking about something he doesn't want to.

She scowls, right on cue. "I ain't disappointed. You'd both be gross together," she says, then pokes out her tongue when Hop raises an eyebrow. Then, her shoulders droop and she starts to play with the buttons on her cardigan. "I mean... I'd support it. If you did have actual feelings for him."

Hop smiles softly. He does appreciate it, even if it's a bit unnecessary. "Thanks, Glo. We're really not a thing, though."

Gloria hums, seeming to believe him, or she's just choosing to let it go for now. She moves back into the street, no longer cornering him. "Fine... you've both got awful close awful quick, though."

Hop scratches his chin, gladly walking back into the busy street. "I suppose we have..." he admits. He's not really sure when it happened, when being with Bede became commonplace in his life, no longer a strange novelty. "He's... a decent bloke now that I've gotten to know him a bit. Not like..." he trails off. Not like that boy in the rain.

Gloria grimaces, then looks away. "Maybe I shouldn't be telling you this, but... he felt really bad about that. Maybe not at the time, but it's eaten at him pretty hard over the years," she says, then smiles softly. "I've said it before, but I'm glad he apologised, for both of your sakes."

Hop chews the inside of his cheek. He hadn't realised that Bede had wanted to apologise for so long. He wonders how Bede went from that cold, spiteful boy who gave voice to every little insecurity Hop had ever had, to the person he is now.

Maybe if he'd given Bede a chance sooner, he could have seen it himself.

Gloria speaks up again. "You're good for each other, I think," she says, and Hop understands what she's getting at. She's always on his case about his dire social life. "Even if you're apparently not snogging," she adds, giving him a look as if she still doesn't fully believe him.

Hop splutters again, but then laughs because the idea is admittedly funny. Then, he gets a glint in his eye. "So you are disappointed!" he accuses, and Gloria's cheeks redden.

"I'm not!" she says, and Hop absolutely loves how the tables have turned. "I just think it'd be an interesting development, that's all."

"Ohhh, right, an interesting development, that's all," he says, before going for the kill. "Y'know… I think it'd be an interesting development if you and Marnie—"

"Oh yeah, we're together now by the way."

"What?!"

Bede's feet pound softly against the cobblestone streets as he walks, his destination standing just ahead of him. He can't believe he's resorting to this, but... he needs advice, desperately, from someone who will understand him. And there's one person in the world who should be able to understand his current situation more than anyone.

It's just a shame who that person is.

His soles meet solid wood as he crosses the drawbridge of Hammerlocke Castle, and he barely makes it past the main gate before—

"Bede!" Raihan grins as he approaches, and Bede shudders in anticipation of what's to come, before getting lifted off the ground and into a bone-crushing hug.

Now, Bede is far from short, but Raihan is an utter titan so his legs hang uselessly as he... begrudgingly leans into the contact. Ever so slightly.

Raihan has been a thorn in Bede's side ever since he became the Gym Leader of Ballonlea. In the wake of everything that happened, copies of his old League Card began to circulate, which for some reason contained a little sob story about how he grew up in an orphanage before being plucked out by Chairman Rose. What was probably intended to be inspirational quickly became something else when the truth about how Rose recruited orphans to do his dirty work was revealed to the world.

Raihan felt responsible, responsible that such a thing happened in his city, and to arguably the most vulnerable people in it, directly under his nose. He arrived in Ballonlea one day and vowed to make up for it.

It shouldn't surprise anyone that Bede very much rejected the offer, quite harshly at that, but Raihan has been a constant in his life ever since. Against his will, of course, but he's come to accept it by now, because Raihan is incredibly persistent.

It was a gradual realisation, that Raihan didn't only care for him in an attempt to absolve his guilt. Time after time, he witnessed Raihan's kindness, not only for him but for everyone else in his life as well.

The turning point came when Opal came down terribly sick a few years ago. Bede was practically pulling out his hair from stress because he thought he was going to lose her, was going to lose the only feeling of home he's ever felt. He wasn't able to care for her, but then Raihan came, soup in hand, and looked after her when Bede couldn't. He stayed calm the entire time, and Opal ended up weathering the storm just fine.

He looked after Bede, as well. Stopped him from spiralling, reminded him that the world wasn't ending every time he needed it, and it helped Bede more than he could ever put into words. Raihan earned his trust that week, an honour he still struggles to be especially generous with.

If Bede is being deathly, deathly honest... he's maybe come to think of Raihan as a figure in his life similar to that of an older brother. But he isn't feeling very honest today, so Raihan is relegated to his usual role of nuisance who won't leave him alone.

"You're pushing your luck," he eventually says as he tries to push Raihan away (an unsuccessful endeavour given that his feet aren't even on the ground), and Raihan laughs in response, finally putting him down.

Bede sniffs. That's his physical affection quota for the week completed.

"Alright, so what's up? You never visit," Raihan says as they begin to walk deeper into the castle, and Bede purses his lips. It's not that he doesn't mean to visit, it's just that by doing so, he'd essentially have to admit how much Raihan has come to mean to him. Which would be gross.

He'll do it one day. Just not today.

Bede straightens his posture and goes to run a hand coolly through his hair before faltering, realising that he's not going to be able to pull his usual attempt at nonchalance this time. "I... need advice," he admits quietly.

Raihan's eyebrows shoot up, then he beams a full set of teeth. "Advice is what I'm best at! But what about? You finally want some love advice?" he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and Bede knows that he's only saying that to annoy him, but...

That's exactly what he's here for.

Bede scowls deeply, and he can feel his ears and cheeks start to heat up. Raihan's teasing smile falls to something more genuine as he stops walking. "Oh, shit, that serious, huh?"

Bede puffs out his cheeks. "It's not serious, no. Just a crush," he says lamely.

"Alright..." Raihan says, before making a 'go on' motion with his hand. "And what do you wanna do about this crush?"

Bede scoffs, but he supposes it is an honest question - whether he wants this wretched crush to go away, or...

Or does he want to see where things go?

His chest tightens at the thought. It's scary. It's terrifying. It's like he's discovered an entire new emotion he hadn't realised he was capable of until now, and it's left him a dazed mess.

"I... would like your advice on how to hypothetically pursue said person," Bede admits quietly, and Raihan's grin returns.

"Great! Because that's exactly what I'm best at!" he says, and Bede can't really disagree. It's no secret (at least not between the Gym Leaders) that Leon practically sabotaged every one of Raihan's attempts to woo him out of some delusional belief that Raihan didn't share his feelings, but it all worked out in the end.

It's exactly why Bede is here. If Raihan managed to get Leon, maybe his advice would work well on Leon's younger brother. His fingers twitch anxiously at the thought, because Leon already wants to kill him, and he actually might try to if he ends up dating Hop.

"So, who's the lucky guy?"

Bede's face cracks. He is not saying that part out loud just yet.

"Irrelevant. Just some general advice will do," he says, and Raihan brings a thoughtful hand to his chin.

"Well—"

An alarm blares, and Bede's breath catches in his chest. What the bloody hell is that for? He looks to Raihan, and based on his expression, it can't be anything good.

"Wait here. Problem with the energy core," Raihan explains, and swiftly turns back the way they came to head to the lift. Bede doesn't especially feel like being told what to do right now, so he follows.

"What sort of problem? Anything to be worried about?" he asks, and Raihan isn't trying to stop him, at least.

Raihan lets out a sigh. "Nothing to worry about. Not right now at least," he says, but Bede can detect the unease beneath it. "Power core gets unstable every now and then. Just gotta power it down a little, and it fixes itself. Causes a couple blackouts for a few hours, but it's better than the alternative."

Bede does his best not to think about what the alternative would be, but frowns anyway. "Seems like something that shouldn't be happening with Galar's primary power source, no? How long has this been going on?" he asks as they enter the lift.

Raihan lets out an exhale that might just mean that he's actually frustrated with something for once, then he holds an unlabelled button. "Duraludon," he says, surely into a microphone of some sort. The doors close, and the lift begins its descent. "It hasn't been happening for long. The League's scientists are looking into it," he says, clearly silently agreeing that no, it isn't something that should be happening.

Bede just shifts, not especially liking the sound of it all, but if it's as easy of a fix as Raihan says it is, then he supposes it's nothing to worry about. For now. "Isn't that password a bit obvious?" he asks instead.

Raihan winces. "Look, you know what I'm like. If it was anything else, I'd probably forget it, and that wouldn't be good," he says, and Bede can't disagree with that. Maybe it circles around to being so obvious nobody would ever guess it. "There wasn't really any security at all until those sword and shield weirdos turned up."

Bede scowls because that entire situation was an utter embarrassment for just about everyone involved, only slightly excused by the fact that the League was still in chaos in the wake of Rose's arrest and Gloria's ascension to Champion. Still, maybe it was for the best if it led to some level of security getting placed between the street and the majority of the region's power.

The alarms continue as the lift doors open, and Bede is immediately hit with a sense of unease. Dynamax particles float through the air, the main chamber lit by the purple and red light emanating from the energy core.

His thoughts drift to the Darkest Day, how this very core, supercharged with the Wishing Stars he found, is what caused it, and he swallows heavily. He's not entirely sure how Dynamax Energy has remained so prevalent since then, but he supposes they've become dependent on it by now.

On his most anxious days, he heavily considers going the way of Spikemuth and getting Ballonlea's Power Spot removed, but it's probably more hassle than it's worth.

Raihan immediately approaches the main console, and gets to work typing on the keyboard and turning various dials, looking far too competent for someone who apparently can't remember a password that isn't his favourite pokémon.

The lights dim, the alarms stop, and Bede lets out a small exhale of relief. Seems like the situation really was as simple as Raihan said. Raihan turns back to Bede. "See? No problem."

Bede decides not to comment that it's definitely a problem that such a thing keeps happening. He tries to relax, but finds his back pressed against the wall behind him anyway. "About... what we were talking about before..." he says quietly.

Raihan's eyes are soft when he approaches. "You're nervous?" he asks, and Bede reluctantly nods because the idea of trying to make any semblance of a move on Hop makes his heart pound even harder than it did when he stormed the pitch during the finals of the Gym Challenge. Raihan moves to his side, making the slightest bit of contact between them. "Hey, c'mon. What have you got to worry about? Whoever it is should be honoured that you have your eyes on them!"

Bede swallows, but the prideful part of him can't help but agree. Some people dislike his ego, or arrogance, as they may call it, but he isn't cocky. Not anymore, at least, and he knows that he is Ballonlea's Gym Leader and the Champion's greatest rival. They're positions that he has earned, and he would be foolish not to be proud of what he's accomplished. It's just that...

"As long as you haven't been actually mean to them at all, you'll probably be fine!"

That. It's very specifically someone he has been very unkind to multiple times in his life. Raihan clearly catches his grimace because he deflates. "Oof. That bad, huh?" he says, and Bede decidedly looks away. Raihan runs his fingers over his chin. "Well... I'm sure you've made up for it, right?" he says, and while Bede thinks that's a very subjective matter, he nods anyway. "Then just... make him feel special. Seen. Understood. And if you ask me, a spectacle is always good. Unless they're all shy and stuff, obviously."

Bede lets out an exhale through his nose. It makes sense. Hop has come to feel special to him, so of course he should make him feel that way. "Still, it's easier said than done, isn't it?" he says, and Raihan nods.

"Yeah, it is. But... you pay attention to the stuff he likes, right?" he asks, and Bede would like to consider himself an attentive person in that manner, so he nods. "Then just make that obvious! And uh. You've gotta actually confess at some point."

Bede sticks out his lower lip. "One thing at a time," he says, because the thought of that makes his head spin so much he might lose his balance. He scuffs his shoe against the floor. "Thank you, Raihan," he says honestly.

Raihan beams, and gives a thumbs up. "No problem!" he says, and they both head back into the lift.

A plan starts to formulate in Bede's mind as the lift begins to ascend. The Gym Challenge starts in a week, and once the Ballonlea leg starts, the festival will come into swing. He's already spent countless hours preparing for it. What's a few more?

Raihan starts to hum a tune before suddenly stopping. "Oh, how're you and Hop doing, by the way?" he asks, oh so innocently, but Bede turns beet red on impact, and Raihan connects the dots in an instant. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Raihan says, but the soft smile on his face and the way he looks like he's almost tearing up make it clear he doesn't think badly of it at all.

"You keep your mouth shut, or I'll bloody staple it shut," Bede threatens with a glare, but Raihan seems completely unaffected, letting out a sound that can only be described as unrestrained glee.

"I'm so excited! You're gonna marry into our family!" he says as they head out into the corridor, and Bede splutters.

"We're not getting married! And he might not even like me!" he hisses, before shaking his head incredulously. "And you're not even married into their family yet!"

Raihan scratches his head, attempting to keep the grin on his face. "We're married in spirit!" he says as he puffs himself up, and Bede isn't sure he's ever heard a worse excuse in his entire life.

Still, Bede's glare softens, because Raihan has been kind to him today, and also countless times before. Maybe he should try to do the same for once. "Are you nervous?" he probes, and Raihan jolts, clearly having not been expecting anything other than a heckling.

His shoulders droop. "Yeah..." he admits quietly. "Terrified, actually."

Bede isn't sure what for. Raihan seemed pretty confident when he first swept Leon off of his feet, so what's the problem now? Marriage is a big deal, but it can't be that different. Not that Bede knows much of anything about it.

Raihan shifts, clearly figuring out Bede's unspoken question. "It's... different when it comes to marriage. Brings family into it," he says, and that catches Bede's attention. He doesn't really know much about Hop and Leon's family. Their mother was nice enough at that barbeque, but that's the only experience he actually has.

"Is that... a bad thing?" Bede asks, and Raihan tilts his head side to side as if to say 'it's complicated.'

"They have... high standards. They put Lee up on a pedestal, but he's scared that it'll come crumbling down at any second," Raihan says, and it's abundantly clear that he thinks Leon marrying him could cause exactly that.

"They'd be fools to have a problem with it," Bede spits, his heartrate rising in anger. The notion is utterly ridiculous because Raihan is an incredibly strong individual and one of the kindest in the entire region. "They should be honoured for their son to marry someone like you, when you-, you're..."

The words catch in his throat, and everything he wants to say dies on his lips. Why can't he just say it? Say how much he...

"Aw, thanks Bede!" Raihan grins, looking touched by the sentiment, even though most of it remains unsaid. "Haven't really talked about all this with anyone, Lee least of all. So I appreciate it." He lets out a sigh, looking a bit downtrodden still.

This wouldn't do. Bede doesn't like seeing Raihan like this. "You're not going to let anyone get in the way of your love for Leon, are you?" he says, deciding that poking the bear is the best option, since actual advice and support is a bit out of his wheelhouse.

Raihan gets a glint in his eye, the sort he gets on the field just before a battle. "Nope! Definitely gonna marry him someday, no matter what his family says. We've just got to figure some stuff out first," he says, and flashes a far more confident-looking grin.

Bede allows himself to smile in return. That's the Raihan he knows, not the jittery, anxious mess he was for a moment there.

Raihan starts to walk again deeper into the castle, then turns. "You sticking around? Or heading home?" he asks, and the hope in his voice is obvious.

Bede wants to put on a show of needing to think about it, but... "Of course," he says, because a visit is long overdue. "I can stay for another hour or two."

Raihan beams. "Yeah! And you can tell me more about how you're crushing on Hop while you're here!"

Bede's eye twitches. Sometimes he wonders if all of this is actually worth it.

Mortifyingly, he knows it definitely is.

Hop flops onto his bed with a sigh. After Gloria went home, he decided to train in the Wild Area for a bit. It's starting to become a bit of a habit, and if he's being honest, his team feels stronger than ever. He's sure Glo would floor him, because she floors everyone, but he'd like to think he could put up a fight now, at least.

He turns onto his side, eyes landing on his pokéball holder. Dubwool pushed himself too hard today, something that's quickly becoming a pattern. Hop sees how he overworks himself, desperately seeking his approval even though he should know that Hop's love for him is unconditional.

Maybe they're alike in that sense.

Hop sighs softly. They'll work things out, eventually. Even if it means quitting battling again, he'll do whatever it takes for his pokémon's health.

He opens his phone, and it suddenly rings, a picture of Bede's Sylveon sitting in the centre of his screen. He's not sure how one of the most famous people in the entire region, someone who so frequently has cameras on him, is so averse to photos.

"Oi, I thought you were going to text me?" Hop immediately says upon answering, and lies on his front as his legs kick idly behind him.

Bede snorts from the other end. "Oh, I'm sorry, are we obsessing over semantics now?"

Hop hums. "Just think you could do with being a bit less dishonest, that's all."

"Oh, of course, how terrible of me," Bede drawls, and a silence stretches out. Hop is far too tired to guide their conversation tonight, so he hopes Bede will pick up some of the slack for once.

"The Gym Challenge is starting soon," Bede eventually states plainly, and Hop snorts.

"It is," is all he says. He's going to make Bede work for this one, and he can practically hear Bede stick out his lower lip.

"My point is that that means the Ballonlea Festival is also soon," Bede says. Hop had forgotten about that for a bit, since Bede said once that he'd rather put pins in his eyes than talk about his work once he's finally off. Bede speaks up quietly again. "Will you... be able to make it?"

"Of course," Hop says, surprising himself with how sure he sounds. He thinks he can make it, at least. He'll have to ask Sonia to give him the day off, and oh, Arceus, he just remembered that it's a bloody masquerade and he needs to get a suit and a mask and—

"Thank you," Bede says, pulling Hop out of his anxious musings. What's he thanking him for? Bede's ability to flip-flop between overly polite and very much impolite will always confuse him.

"S'no problem. I want to see what all your work has led to," Hop says honestly. He's sure Bede is going to be busy for most of it, and the idea of being on his own around so many people doesn't sound like the most fun thing, but he does genuinely want to see what Bede has spent countless hours organising.

Even if the idea of wearing a suit makes him want to cry. He hates stuffy clothes.

"Any chance you can dress me up again?" Hop asks, only half-joking. The last time in Motostoke went well, even if it mainly just reaffirmed his own tastes.

"Oh? And where's the fun in that?" Bede says, and Hop lets out a dramatic sigh. This isn't going to be easy, is it? He jolts when a message pings on his phone, and Bede speaks up again. "There's a tailor in Hammerlocke I can recommend. Should make whatever you pick out comfier for you."

Hop's mouth hangs open silently, because if he's being honest... he's touched. Touched that Bede would be so thoughtful for his tastes, and how picky he is with clothes. He swallows, checking the message and seeing a link to the tailor's website. Then, a small smirk lands on his lips. "Since when are you good enough with technology to send me a link? While also on the phone with me?" he teases, and he can tell how his words make steam start to come out of Bede's ears.

"Well, I've gotten some practice in since you make me use this wretched thing so much," Bede says, and Hop laughs, not noticing how his head has begun to lean more into the phone, as if seeking more contact. Then, a big yawn escapes his lips, and Bede snorts. "You should sleep. Don't stay up on my account."

"And what if I don't want to sleep?" Hop says with a sleepy grin that Bede can't see, not able to stop himself from yawning again.

"Then I'll hang up," Bede says pointedly. "Don't slip back into old habits."

Hop definitely doesn't mention that he's already started to do so, and sighs. Bede's probably right. "Alright, fine... g'night Bede," he says, a part of his mind already drifting off even though he definitely should get up and at least change out of his training clothes before falling asleep.

A silence stretches, and Hop wonders if Bede even heard him when he finally answers. "Goodnight, Hop," he just says, and swiftly hangs up.

Hop's eyes close, and he starts to immediately drift off then and there, phone still in hand.

He doesn't allow himself any time to think about what precious part of his life Bede has started to fill the space of, nor what that could possibly mean.

Hop checks himself in the mirror for the fifth time in the last two minutes. He straightens his bow tie again, pulling and tugging at his tuxedo jacket because it doesn't feel straight and it probably looks stupid and—

"Can you quit stressing? You look fine."

Hop spins around, cheeks flushed as he looks to his phone sittingsitting on top of his dresser, mid video call, and Gloria shakes her head incredulously at him.

They're video calling because Hop... wanted to give his support for her exhibition match in ten minutes. Honest. It's nothing to do with the fact that he feels like he's having a mental breakdown because the Ballonlea Festival is tonight and he has to go soon and he feels like he looks stupid and inadequate and unfashionable and—

"Hop."

He stops fidgeting with the cuffs of the jacket and pouts. "Gloooo..." he whines, not sure what he even wants her to actually do. He wants to bury his face into a pillow, but that would actually mess up his outfit, so he can't. All he can do is stand here and suffer.

Gloria sighs as she ties the laces on her shoes. "Look... I know you're anxious, okay? But you look good. Really good," she says, and while the bad part of Hop's mind feels like she's just saying that to say it, the better part of his mind knows that's not Glo's style. He huffs.

"I mean, I think I look fine, but it's not exactly fashionable, is it?" It's just a plain, navy tuxedo, a boring white mask, and a stupid, black... cape thing that makes him feel like he's trying too hard. It reminds him of when he was younger, when he would wrap a blanket around his shoulders and pretend he was Lee wearing his Champion cape. He cringes at the memory, just like he does for just about every memory of his childhood self these days.

His eyes drift to his reflection once again. It all feels so simple. It's a masquerade, and so a part of him regrets not going all-out. Bede, and likely everyone else, will probably be wearing extravagant, colourful, layered outfits, and he's just...

"You. Look. Good," Gloria says over the call, emphasising each word with a clap of her hands. "Better than I've ever seen you. No offence."

"None taken," Hop mutters because he's well aware he's not the most fashionable bloke out there. He lets out an exhale through his nose. He looks good. He put effort into what he's wearing, and it is surprisingly comfortable, thanks to the tailor Bede recommended. A part of him wishes Bede just dressed him up again, but he also knows they'd have probably reached the same end result anyway.

"Put the mask on, and do a dramatic pose," Gloria says, and Hop immediately balks. She rolls her eyes and continues. "Do it. You're going to a masquerade in Ballonlea. If you ain't gonna be a bit of a weirdo, then what's the point?"

Hop hums. He supposes he can't argue with that. If he walks around stiff as a board, it'll probably make him stand out even more. He picks up the mask. It's a simple white, with curved edges, and about as basic as it gets. He puts it onto his face and looks into the mirror. It does tie his outfit together a bit better, and he enjoys the anonymity it gives him. He takes a breath, and does a pose, which ends up just being Leon's signature pose, which is stupid, but—

Gloria claps, and Hop can't stop the giggle that escapes his lips. It is all a bit stupid, but he supposes that's the point. He heads over to his dresser and picks up the phone to talk into it properly. "Thanks, Glo," he says with a small smile. It did make him feel a lot better.

"S'nothing, don't worry about it," she says, then her eyes look towards something out of frame. He hears someone else talking, League staff surely, which means it's time for Gloria to go.

Hop swallows, his nerves flaring up again. "Any last advice?" he asks, and Gloria brings a thoughtful finger to her chin, then shrugs.

"Just have fun, honestly. It is a party, after all," she says, and Hop nods. It's a party. He's supposed to have fun. He has to make sure he has fun because otherwise he's squandering all the work Bede put into planning it.

Gloria's eyes suddenly turn mischievous. "And let me know if you end up snogging—"

And with that, Hop hangs up and promptly ejects that image from his mind. He sends a quick 'good luck' text because although she's being annoying, it's a habit he's kept for as long as she's been champion, and he's not going to stop now.

An alarm sounds out from Hop's phone, and his stomach lurches. It's like all of Gloria's reassurances have flown out the window now that he has to face the music. He's not even entirely sure why he's so nervous. Is he afraid of embarrassing himself? That would be stupid because he embarrasses himself every day of his life. What's one more?

He takes a deep breath, well aware that it's not the best mentality to have. He won't embarrass himself. It'll be fun. Of course it'll be fun. He really is eager to see the fruits of Bede's labour, because he knows how much of himself he put into making it a success. He has no doubt that it'll be incredible.

Even if he might just end up spending most of the night standing there like a Sudowoodo.

He grabs a few of his pokéballs, and clips them to his belt. Fancy party or not, he's not going anywhere without at least some of his team. And if he ends up needing to hide in the Tangle and cuddle with Dubwool for a bit, then that's neither here nor there.

The Coriknight taxi touches down in Ballonlea's main plaza, and Hop steps out and gasps softly as he takes in the sights. Ballonlea looks magical on a normal day, but this is an entirely new level. The usually dimly lit town is dazzling. Banners, buntings, and lanterns line the streets, and the mushrooms seem like they're glowing brighter than ever, bathing the whole place in an ethereal glow.

Countless anonymous faces surround him, a veritable ocean of different colours composed of flamboyant outfits - ones far more interesting than Hop's own. He bites his lip at the sight of the far flashier costumes, but lets out a small sigh of relief when he sees he's not entirely alone in being boring, a few other tuxedos dotted around.

The Corviknight takes off behind him, and he suddenly feels swallowed by the crowd, a Magikarp out of water. His feet bring him forward, moving through whatever gap he can towards the music softly drifting through the square. He does his best to scan the crowds around him in an attempt to look for Bede, and suddenly realises the big dilemma.

It's a bloody masquerade.

How's he supposed to find anyone like this? He thought he might be able to identify Bede from his outfit alone, but that feels like a lost cause. He's utterly surrounded by countless frilly pink outfits, many of them exactly the sort of thing he expects Bede to be wearing.

He's half-tempted to pull out his phone to try texting him, but Bede is surely incredibly busy. And maybe he's overthinking things, but pulling out his phone at an event like this feels sacrilegious somehow. In either case, he thinks he might be best off hoping Bede finds him instead.

Hop soon finds the source of the music, spotting a small stage near the centre of the plaza, occupied by a trio of violin players. In the centre is a teenage boy, flanked by two women - one middle-aged and the other quite a bit older.

They sound... beautiful. He realises quickly that the boy is playing the lead melody despite his young age, the other two playing in support. He's clearly incredibly talented, or skilled rather; no doubt at least partly because of the support of what he assumes is his mother and grandmother. It's... interesting how a family can come together like this, Hop thinks.

"Well, well, well... if it isn't the young Professor Hop," a voice says from behind, and Hop turns to see a frankly terrifying-looking mask that surely belongs to Lady Opal.

"Not... quite a professor yet, Lady— err, Ms Opal," Hop corrects her for what feels like the millionth time, then narrows his eyes. All of the sudden, he has a sneaking suspicion that she's been doing it to pull his leg this entire time. He's onto her now, and has been ever since she pranked him with Bede's stupid lunchbox.

Opal waves him off with a bah. "Semantics. In another time, you're a professor, so why not address you as such?" she says. Whatever that means.

Hop takes advantage of his mask and rolls his eyes. "Well, in this time you're technically a Lady, so perhaps you should let me address you as such," he says, and then his eyes widen. Why did he say that, why did he—

Opal barks out a laugh. "Perhaps you have a point there, young man," she says with a wink.

He... thinks she does at least. This whole mask stuff makes reading expressions a bit complicated.

"Well, err..." Hop clears his throat. Little bonding moment or not, he's still not quite sure how to talk to her. "The festival is very impressive," he says with a small bow that makes him wince the second he does it.

Opal tuts. "Indeed, it is, though it has nothing to do with me," she says, and Hop thinks he can see pride in the way her lips curl upward. "It appears our Gym Leader has rather outdone himself, and quite possibly me while he's at it," she adds, and Hop's always gotten the impression that she isn't the sort to dole out such praise easily.

"He has..." Hop says quietly, and his eyes widen. "Err, outdone himself, I mean. No comment on-, on... outdoing you and-" He cuts himself off with a huff before he digs himself into an even deeper hole. Some days, he considers taping his mouth shut and never speaking again. This is already one of those days.

Opal just hums, clearly unbothered as she allows Hop to stew in embarrassed silence for a few more moments before tapping her cane twice into the cobblestone below. "Well! I'm sure you're wondering where the man of the hour is," she says, and Hop can hear the mischief underlying her words, though he hasn't the foggiest idea why.

"I'd... like to congratulate him on the job he's done," he says carefully, positive he's walking into a trap somehow. Opal just sniffs.

"I believe he's at the stadium currently," is all she says, and Hop gets the impression that she knows exactly where Bede is; she's just playing coy. His eyes immediately dart towards the main street leading there, and he shifts uncomfortably. Suddenly, Opal gives him a whack on the leg with her cane. "Go on, chop chop! This is no time for dilly-dallying!"

Hop squawks, but obeys, scuttling off through the crowd. He was trying to think of a polite out for himself, but he supposes Ballonlea is already thoroughly lacking in the politeness department, so he's not sure why he bothered.

Hop's breath catches in his chest when he sees the sheer number of stalls lining the roads, the entire main street having been turned into a bustling marketplace. Although it's definitely crowded... just about everywhere, there's something strangely intimate about it all. Despite how many people there are, it's not terribly loud, with everyone speaking in relatively hushed tones. Hop hopes it's just the atmosphere and not some... nefarious fairy magic subduing everyone, or something.

One of the stalls catches Hop's eye. It's serving... glowing drinks? His nose curls. He doesn't even want to know what that's about.

When he reaches the stadium, Hop realises that it's open to the public, evidently also a part of the festival grounds. It makes sense, since Ballonlea's enclosed streets don't exactly leave space for much other than small stalls. He walks through the main lobby, and heads straight out onto the pitch itself.

There are more stalls lining the perimeter of the pitch, but the centre is mostly empty. There's a surprising amount of people here, though, so there must be something going on.

His eyes scan through the crowds once again, and Hop pouts when he continues to have no luck finding Bede. He'll never admit it out loud, but the only reason he even recognised Opal is because he's not sure if there's anyone else in the region whose spine bends in quite that exact way.

Hop huffs. He hopes Bede will at least notice him, given that there isn't much he can do to cover up his distinctive purple hair. Though, in most people's minds, it probably makes them think more of—

"Leon!"

As if on cue, a child appears practically out of thin air, pointing directly at him.

Bollocks.

Hop freezes, unsure how to defuse this ticking time bomb before it detonates because everyone's looking at him. He only freezes up more when he realises that people aren't swarming him; in fact, it's like they're specifically backing away from him. The centre of the pitch is seemingly emptying around him, the lights dim slightly, and that's when Hop sees him.

Hop was wrong when he said he wouldn't recognise him, because he's showing up everyone in this entire town.

Bede stands on the other side of the space that's been created in the centre of the stadium. He wears a pink coat, intricate golden embroidery running along the front with a lighter pink, frilled cravat hanging around his neck. A wide-brimmed pointed hat, just as pink as his jacket, sits atop his head, initially obscuring his face until he adjusts it, revealing a sharp, angular, bejewelled mask.

He looks quite the villain. Or he would if he didn't look so pretty.

"Wolf-tamer," Bede says, his words carrying through the air despite his calm tone. Instantly, whispers pick up around them.

"Wolf-tamer...?"

"That's not Leon...?"

"Wait, is that Hop?"

"It's Wolf-tamer Hop!"

Hop's breath hitches. He's surprised anyone even remembers that stupid nickname, let alone who he actually is. Bede takes a step closer, pokéball in hand, and it becomes abundantly clear why the centre was left open, incredibly obvious in hindsight.

"It's been quite some time since our last battle," Bede drawls, an even more exaggerated version of the persona he adopts in championship battles. "And like last time, I do not intend to lose."

Hop swallows. A battle. A real battle, here and now. His hand drifts to one of his pokéballs, thumb rubbing against it nervously. Bad memories of life-shattering losses flood into his mind, lingering sensations of the darkness that dripped his heart in the bleakest days... until he hears the chanting of the crowd, only increasing in their intensity the longer he hesitates. His heart starts to pound, the thrill of a good battle already starting to pump through his veins.

He looks to Bede, his expression obviously unreadable except for the faintest bit of amusement visible from the quirk of his lips, the tiniest window into the Bede that Hop has come to know, and not the character he's currently playing.

Hop unclasps his pokéball, and takes a step forward. If everyone wants a show, then who is he to deny them?

"It has been a long time, hasn't it... my old rival?" he muses aloud, and he hears how everyone quietens in response, sees how Bede's smile widens, his eyes surely lighting up behind his mask. "I do not intend to lose this time, err... Fairy... Prince!" he says, cringing internally at his awkwardness, but the crowd seems to eat it up anyway.

"Hm." Bede gives a crooked smirk, adjusting his hat so that it's fully out of his face. "I suppose we shall see." He hesitates for the briefest of moments - an out, if Hop wants it. When Hop doesn't back down, he gives a firm nod before throwing out his first pokéball. Mawile suddenly appears on the field, and Hop launches Dubwool's ball in response.

And the crowd roars.

"Mawile, Iron Head!" Bede shouts, but Hop instantly catches how he raises his hand and clamps his fingers shut as he shouts out the order.

"Dubwool, pull back!" He doesn't usually like to intervene so early, has long since learned to trust his pokémon's judgement, but—

Mawile proceeds to use Crunch, because Bede is a sneaky bastard who communicates with signals more than he does his words. Dubwool does as he's told and backpedals instead of sidestepping, successfully dodging the attack and following it up with a successful Double Kick.

Hop's theory that Dark types and Fairy types are two sides of the same coin only gets stronger every day. He's sure Bede's Reuniclus wouldn't allow for such treachery. Bede smirks, completely unashamed of his deception.

Mawile falls quickly after that, and Dubwool bleats happily, looking back to Hop for praise. Hop throws out a thumbs-up and gives a pleased grin.

"Oh...? Seems that the Wolf-tamer is quite the Wooloo tamer while he's at it," Bede drawls, and Hop chokes at the audacity. Dubwool's head spins around, staring Bede down with ferocity.

Hop points forward as Bede throws out Rapidash's pokéball. "Go on, Dubwool! Show that prick— err, bloke what Postwick is capable of!"

Bede simply snorts in amusement, choosing not to deign that with a reply. Dubwool struggles to get close, and there isn't much he can do against Rapidash's Dazzling Gleam. He falls, letting out a quiet bleat of defeat as he does so, and Hop returns him to his pokéball. "You did good..." he murmurs, then takes a breath. He hopes Dubwool understands that he doesn't need to sweep an entire team for Hop to be proud of him.

He grasps Cinderace's ball. Not too long ago, he'd have been a nervous wreck when battling, but over the last few weeks, he's felt closer to his team than ever. The rust has been washed away, and the wrinkles have been ironed out. He's already proud of all of them, win or lose.

Cinderace pops out of her ball, immediately sliding on her knees. She throws her arms out wide as if physically absorbing all of the crowd's attention, and they all lap it up. Hop snickers. Sometimes he wonders if he's depriving her of real battles, but he hopes tonight makes up for it a bit. Cinderace lets out a squeak of alarm, still on her knees when Rapidash charges, fast, immediately hitting her with a Drill Run.

Hop winces. Okay, maybe they still have some wrinkles to iron out.

She puts up a decent fight once she starts taking things seriously, but Cinderace faints soon after that. Hop whispers encouragements to her too, because it was a rough matchup and she really did do her best. Once she stopped showboating.

Hop's fingers curl hesitantly around his last pokéball. He's definitely losing right now, but he still has his ace in the hole. The crowd gasps when Zacian enters the field, but Zacian ignores them, instead tilting their head forward to lock eyes with Rapidash. They bound forward, and—

One slash of the Crowned Sword is all it takes, and Rapidash faints. Just like that, they're even once again. Hop's breath hitches. They're doing it. They're really holding their own against one of the strongest trainers in Galar! He cheers along with the crowds, bouncing on his heels because Zacian may be a wise legendary pokémon and the Hero of Many Battles, but they're also his little puppy who he will not hesitate to give praise to.

"Well, well, well... seems like you haven't gotten weak in your old age," Bede says, and Hop squawks indignantly. "We won't be going down easily, isn't that right, Hatterene?" He throws out her ball, and Hatterene screeches, her psychic energy so strong that Hop immediately feels the world warp around him.

Zacian turns briefly, seeking his guidance, and Hop's eyebrows raise. He's not sure what a legendary pokémon needs his guidance for, but he nods anyway. Hop shudders as another screech rings out, and he and Zacian stand together as they face down what is quite possibly the scariest pokémon in the entire region.

"Zacian, Swords Dance!" he shouts as Zacian dodges a Mystical Fire. Legendary or not, Bede's Hatterene is not one to be underestimated; she could easily whittle Zacian down on the approach. If they're going to go in, they have to make sure their hit counts.

When Zacian makes their move, they charge quickly. "Behemoth Blade!" Hop shouts, and Zacian takes a single Mystical Fire to the face before slashing with such ferocity that they skid past even Bede himself.

And Hatterene falls.

The crowd erupts into cheers, and Hop looks around, heart hammering in his chest. Zacian returns, and bows their head. Hop returns a bow of his own, because his pokémon deserve the utmost of respect, and he returns Zacian to their pokéball. Bede approaches, an honest, yet tired smile on his face. He holds out a gloved hand to shake, which Hop takes.

"It appears... you've grown a lot stronger since our last battle, Wolf-tamer," Bede says, giving a small bow as he steps back, head tilted and with a small smile on his lips. It's all such a contrast to their battle outside Motostoke, the one that left him broken and defeated.

Hop's head is still spinning. He won. He actually won. And even if he hadn't... it was incredibly fun. "T-thank you... You've gotten a lot stronger as well," he stammers out, struggling to keep up the little act they've been putting on.

Bede lets out an amused exhale through his nose, before turning to face the crowds, who are just staring at them. "Go on, shoo! Show's over. Go enjoy the rest of the festival," he says with a dismissive wave of his hand, and a few laughs rumble through the crowd. Hop is glad that people seem to at least expect this sort of behaviour from Bede. They disperse to something closer to how they'd been before the battle. Hop lets out a small sigh of relief, a bit overwhelmed by all the attention.

Suddenly, Bede grasps his wrist, pulling him out through the main lobby and back into the street. He leads Hop to a quiet corner, and takes off his mask. "You made it," he says breathily, lingering amusement from their battle clear on his now exposed face.

"'Course I bloody made it," Hop murmurs a little indignantly. "You've worked your arse off for this, the least I can do is turn up." He shakes his head, then narrows his eyes. "Oi, I thought taking your mask was against the rules?"

Bede snorts, a cheeky smirk landing on his lips. "They're my rules. I can break them as much as I like." Hop laughs, because he supposes it is true. He goes to lower his own mask when Bede plants a finger onto it, keeping it in place. "I never said you could break the rules," he says with a smile that's far too pretty for such a bastard.

Hop sticks out his lower lip. "C'mon, mate..." he whines. "The masquerade was my idea, wasn't it? I think I deserve at least half the credit for all of this." He puffs himself up proudly despite being well aware he didn't do a bloody thing. It gets a laugh out of Bede, at least.

Then Bede hums. "I suppose that's fair enough," he says quietly. "Join me in some rule-breaking, then, hm?"

Hop chews his lip, hesitantly takes off his own mask, as if Bede will rescind his permission at any moment. Once it's off, Hop grins, his eyes drifting over to the hustle and bustle from the nearby street.

"You really outdid yourself with all this, mate," he says with an honest smile. "It's amazing how you've transformed the place."

Bede lets out a huff and rolls his eyes. "Please. It's barely any different, and everyone here put the work in. It's not—" he cuts himself off, cheeks having reddened slightly, and sighs. It's becoming increasingly clear to Hop that Bede isn't very good at handling praise. They're alike in that way, he supposes. "Thank you," Bede eventually decides to say. "It's been a lot of hard work, but... I'm proud of it."

"You should be!" Hop says with a grin. "I can't even organise the lab's filing cabinets properly, so doing all this is really impressive."

Bede just shakes his head incredulously at that, before suddenly narrowing his eyes. "So... you're rusty, hm?" he says, echoing Hop's previous sentiments.

Hop scratches his head shyly. "It was all my team, really..." he says, and Bede scowls in response.

"Cut it out. Unless you're suggesting that I, of all people, lost to a mediocre trainer," he says, and Hop huffs. He'd never imply such a thing. He's still feeling a bit bashful over it all, though.

A brief silence stretches out, and Hop isn't able to stop himself from feeling a bit glum all of the sudden. "You must be awful busy," he murmurs. Bede isn't going to be able to hang around in some alley all night, but Hop is at least glad he got to speak with him.

But Bede just shakes his head. "My trainers and the staff all insist on running things without me. Something about me 'working my arse off' as you so eloquently put it," he says with a smirk, then he breaks eye contact. "So, if you'd like a... guide for the festivities..."

"Yes, please," Hop says before he can even think. His cheeks heat up slightly out of embarrassment over his enthusiasm, but he thought he was going to be alone for most of the night. Who can blame him for being a bit excited now that he's going to spend the festival with Bede instead?

Bede thankfully decides not to comment on the fact that he's acting a bit like a begging Boltund right now, and instead looks Hop up and down. "You look good," he says with a small smile, and Hop purses his lips.

"Really...? I feel a bit—"

"You look perfect," Bede interrupts, barrelling on before Hop can squeak out a reply to that. "You're wearing what you feel comfortable in, and you should never do any more than that." His nose curls. "Most people here look like a bunch of preening Unfezant, so you've done good."

"Bede!" Hop chokes out. "They're your guests!" He says, but he can't stop the giggle bubbling up in his chest. Bede rolls his eyes unrepentantly at the scolding, and Hop gets a mischievous glint in his eye. "Though... honestly, some of them look more like Delibird, if you ask me," he says with a snicker.

Bede laughs unabashedly at that. "How scandalous," he drawls. "Have I corrupted our little Professor-in-training?" he adds with a devious smirk on his lips, and Hop chokes because maybe. He's nice, honest! It's just fun to get a bit catty with Bede every now and then, that's all. Hop's eyes drift back to the street, and Bede tugs at his cuff again. "Come on... let's not spend the entire night in some dreary alley, hm?" he says, and with that, they're back out in the lively market street.

They begin to walk, and Hop feels thoroughly inadequate walking alongside Bede of all people. He's... gorgeous. Handsome and pretty at the same time, his outfit far surpassing that of anyone else's, even if some are technically more extravagant. It all makes Hop a bit jealous, of his confidence more than anything. His cheeks heat up at Bede's previous words.

'You look perfect.'

Ridiculous. Still, Hop allows the words to echo over and over in his mind, and his insecurities start to fade away.

"One moment," Bede says before approaching one of the stalls. Hop cranes his neck to get a better look and sees that it's serving drinks of some sort, and- oh, Arceus, it's the weird glowing ones from before.

Hop scrunches up his entire face when Bede returns with two cups of mystery liquid that are so luminous you could probably use them as a torch if you needed to. Bede tsks when he sees Hop's expression, and hands one over. "Try it. I promise it's good," he says, and Hop gulps. Well, now he has to try it.

Hesitantly, he brings the cup of evil, yellow, glowing liquid to his lips, already cringing in anticipation of the strange alien taste, but... it just tastes like Pinap berries.

He loves Pinap berries.

He hums into the drink as he takes a big gulp because it really is that tasty. "S'really good," he admits, even if the luminescence is still a bit unsettling. It is pretty cool, though, for the novelty of it all. He drains the cup, and then grins. "How did you know I'd like this?" he asks, and Bede shrugs his shoulders.

"It's a secret," he says, the slightest bit of mischief in his tone, but he can't hide the fact that he's clearly quite pleased that Hop liked it as much as he does. Hop narrows his eyes, but drops it quickly because he has a feeling that's the most he's going to get out of him. Gloria must have told him, but that also means that Bede must have asked her in the first place.

He isn't sure why, but the thought sends Butterfree fluttering through his stomach.

Hop just watches with fascination as Bede swirls his own predictably pink concoction. "How exactly does it work?" he asks, and Bede lets out a hmph.

"A Ballonlea specialty, passed down for countless generations, first taught to us by the ancient fae god of the Tangle," he says. Hop's mouth gapes in response, and Bede snickers. "It's just juice," he admits. "With bits of the Tangle's mushrooms in it."

Hop nods slowly. He can't taste any mushrooms, so that's good. Best keep it a secret before the League finds out and starts making... energy drinks out of the stuff, or something.

They keep walking, ending up in the plaza Hop first landed in, the musicians on stage playing something far more upbeat now that the party is in full swing. Hop's brows knit as he watches them, how they seem to be perfectly in sync with each other.

"Impressive, aren't they?" Bede says from his side, eyes fixated on the stage, and Hop hums in agreement.

"It's cool how a family can come together like that. Supporting each other and stuff," he says, trying to keep his voice neutral as a bit of bitterness starts to churn in his gut. He loves his family, loves them with everything he has, but... he's not sure he can imagine receiving that level of commitment from them. If it isn't battling, they aren't interested, and most of that went towards Lee, anyway. Not him.

Bede is quiet for a moment, then turns his head towards Hop. "Family?" he echoes. "I suppose they are family, in a sense, but I don't think that's what you meant, is it?"

Hop's brow knits. What's that supposed to mean?

Bede lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh. "Ballonlea is... a haven, of sorts. Many people who struggle to fit in elsewhere end up here. Wanderers, vagrants, people who are otherwise... lost," he says, and Hop can tell that he counts himself to be in that last group. "It's welcoming to those who give it a chance, those who are willing to open their heart to it." He lets out a soft exhale through his nose. "I'm thankful for their generosity, to not only welcome me the way they did, but allow me to even represent them."

Hop nods slowly. He's always thought of Ballonlea as this ancient town where the roots run deep, and therefore not necessarily the friendliest place to outsiders, but... Bede is right that Ballonlea accepted him with open arms. He didn't understand it at the time, but Hop feels like he may understand it now. "So they aren't from Ballonlea originally, then?" he asks, gaze drifting back to the trio. Bede shakes his head.

"No, they aren't. And not only that, they aren't related to each other. The boy is from Wyndon, the middle-aged woman from Hammerlocke, and the older woman... Wedgehurst, I believe," he says, and Hop resists the urge to say of course the granny is from Wedgehurst. "They all came to Ballonlea lost, and have since come together and bonded over their shared interests."

Hop hums, his lips curling into a cheeky smirk because it all reminds him of a conversation he once had with someone else.

"So a bit like Spikemuth!" he chirps with an innocent grin, and Bede's head swivels on cue.

"Absolutely not. Ballonlea is nothing like that wretched place," Bede insists, but the lack of real fight in his voice shows that he at least sees the comparison. Marnie spoke similar words to him once, that Spikemuth attracts the 'wierdos' of the region. Her words, not his.

The violin players finish the song, and Hop claps idly, chewing the inside of his cheek. It's... surprising. Surprising how they can seem so close and tight-knit and supportive of each other when they aren't even family. Not in the traditional sense, at least.

It just makes Hop's heart ache more, if anything.

Bede tugs at Hop's wrist again. "Come on, there's still plenty more to see," he says, and Hop nods. As beautiful as the music is, he's glad to be away from them.

Bede drags him to more stalls, ordering more strange yet tasty foods and drinks for Hop to try. The vendors always insist on Bede not paying, but it's a losing battle on their part. Bede would probably launch the money at their heads and run if he felt it necessary.

Bede picks up a fancy-looking pen from one of the stalls, holding it up for Hop to see. "Ballonlea's penmakers are the best in the region," Bede insists, the pride in his voice clear. It would maybe be more convincing if this wasn't maybe the fifth time he'd claimed such a thing tonight, from woodworkers to clock-makers to artists. They are all very beautiful pieces each time, though, so it's hard to argue with him, really. He does get the sense he's being slightly manipulated into buying all these knickknacks, however.

If Hop is being honest, it's a bit like seeing a Yamper showing off its toys, the way that Bede seems so eager to show off the town that has become his home, holding so much genuine pride for it. It's endearing, and it's the sort of behaviour the Hop of a few months ago would have never imagined Bede was capable of.

He does not say any of that out loud because he doesn't think anyone would find his body if he did.

A wide smile makes its way onto Hop's face. Ballonlea is strange, but there's an undeniable charm to the place. What he thought was a stuffy place with an even bigger granny population than Wedgehurst is revealing itself to be a melting pot of different people from all over Galar. All of them are strange, Bede included, but...

Maybe Hop is a little strange too.

The party eventually starts to die down, with more and more people getting ferried out by Corviknight cabs as the night goes on. Hop sighs softly. He's had... a really good time, far better than he'd ever expected. Tonight has completely sold him on Ballonlea's magic, which he supposes is the entire point of the festival in the first place. The smile that's been plastered on his face for the last few hours starts to wilt. "I've got to go home soon," he murmurs. "Before the cabs stop running."

His stomach twists. Despite the good time he's had, he's not sure he wants it to end yet.

"Don't go."

The words startle Hop, and by the look on Bede's face, they somehow startled him too. "I mean... you can stay the night at my cottage, if you'd like."

Hop swallows. Would that be okay? It would mean he can stay out a bit longer. "Alright. If that's alright… with you?"

Bede just lets out a huffy laugh. "Of course it is, given that it was my suggestion." He fidgets slightly with the cuff of his coat. "Opal won't mind. She likes you anyway," he says, and Hop squirms a bit at the thought. He's not sure if he's had an interaction with her that he wouldn't describe as an absolute disaster, so he's not so sure about that.

They amble along for a few minutes more, and Hop watches as Bede drifts to a jewellery stall they'd passed earlier. The pieces really were impressive, but a bit out of his price range - for a spontaneous purchase at least. Maybe something caught Bede's eye the first time, and he's circling back for it after some thought.

Bede seems to make a purchase, and Hop grins as he approaches. "C'mon, let's see it then!" he says excitedly. Whatever met Bede's standards must be beautiful. Bede grimaces, and then holds up a necklace - one with a golden-yellow gem connected to a silver chain. "It's beautiful, but... it's not really your colour, I'd have thought?" Hop says, immediately kicking himself mentally because it's not like he actually has any idea what he's talking about.

Bede just hums, seemingly lost in thought as he looks at the gem. "No... because it's yours," he says, before holding the necklace out to him. Hop immediately splutters, but before he can deny what is surely a very expensive gift, Bede continues. "Be quiet and just take it. It's already been paid for and it suits you, not me."

Hop balks slightly, but his fingers carefully wrap around the chain, eyes focusing on the gem.

"It's... topaz," Bede says quietly, decidedly not making eye contact.

"Topaz..." Hop echoes, his thumb brushing against its surface. He's not sure what it is about it that made Bede think of him. "Is it a spiritual thing, or something?" he asks. He thinks Bede might be into that stuff, but Bede snorts in a way that makes him feel like he just said something very stupid.

"No, it's..." Bede purses his lips, and lets out a small huff as he turns himself away even more. "It's the same colour as your eyes."

Hop's face flushes on impact, and he's glad his complexion doesn't make it too obvious because his cheeks feel like they're on fire. His eyes drift to the gem again. There's no way his eyes are this pretty of a colour. He takes a breath, one that ends up a bit too stuttering for his tastes as he tries to compose himself. "Thank you..." he says. "I'll have to repay you somehow or—"

"Don't... don't bother," Bede says quietly. "I hear Sonia isn't paying you enough for that," he adds, the faintest smirk landing on his lips.

Hop huffs, because it's definitely true. He has to figure out a way to repay Bede somehow, though. If not through a gift of his own, then offering his time for something instead.

It doesn't take much longer after that for Bede's steps to start to slow, his balance a bit uneven. Hop snickers into his palm. "Is it past your bedtime, mate?" he teases, and Bede's silent glare tells him everything he needs to know. "Come on... let's head to your cottage, yeah? You're dead on your feet."

Bede hesitates, and Hop wonders if it's because Bede also doesn't want tonight to end, but there's no point in them wandering around until Bede inevitably faceplants. He sighs. "Fine... let's go." He motions for Hop to follow.

It isn't until Bede is unlocking the door that Hop realises that he's never actually been inside Bede's cottage. Bede just throws his key onto a small table near the door and slips his shoes off. "I can try to find some pyjamas that fit you," he says, already making his way to what Hop assumes must be his bedroom. "Don't argue. I'm not letting you sleep here in a suit."

Hop puffs out his cheeks in response because he was definitely about to argue. Seems Bede is even bossier than usual when he's tired. He could also just sleep in his boxers, but he has a feeling Bede is trying to avoid that as well.

Hop's eyes drift over the cottage, and it's... not what he expected. A part of him expected Bede to be a neat freak with how well he dresses and how he composes himself, but his and Opal's cottage is...

Well, it's a bit of a mess, if he's being completely honest.

Not dirty, of course. He looks for dust and doesn't manage to find much, but everything is strewn around quite haphazardly. Books lie out on the coffee table, a pink jumper hangs over the back of one of the chairs at the dining table, and a cookbook is still open on the kitchen counter. It's... nicely lived-in, even if some of it makes Hop's eye twitch.

A soft mew rings through the room, and Hop has to clamp his hands over his mouth to not squeal at the sight of Bede's Sylveon. He crouches down, hesitantly putting out a hand for her to approach. She tilts her head at the sight of him, then walks closer and leans into his touch. "You're precious, aren't you...?" he coos, fingers running softly through her fur.

"She's heard plenty about you."

Bede is standing in the doorway of his bedroom with some clothes draped over his arm, having already changed into pyjamas of his own. They're simple, and not the cutesy kind he'd have imagined Bede would wear.

"Oh, has she now?" Hop says with a teasing glint in his eye, because that's definitely a revelation.

Bede coughs into his elbow. "Shut it. I mean that she's heard plenty about how insufferable you are," he says, before whipping what he's holding at Hop's face.

"Charming..." Hop mutters after catching the set of clothes. He unwraps them, looks down and sees—

A pyjama shirt with a Hatterne on the front, and bottoms with little Sylveon plastered all over them, both very, very pink. Hop narrows his eyes towards Bede, who has already skulked away and is busying himself with something back in his bedroom. Hop sighs.

Pink it is, then.

Hop changes quickly in the bathroom, and once he's back in the hall, he doesn't miss the smirk on Bede's face as he walks by into the kitchen, flicking on the kettle. Hop makes a point of scowling as he follows, but his eyebrows raise when Bede opens one of his cupboards.

"Bloody hell, mate, how many different teas do you have?" Hop says, because there's a frankly absurd collection of different boxes in there, the entire cupboard practically dedicated to tea alone. He can admit that Bede was onto something with the chamomile, but all of this seems a bit ridiculous.

Bede snorts. "Blame the old hag. I like tea plenty, but some of these are utterly dreadful," he says, and Hop suddenly realises that Opal isn't even here yet. Who'd have thought she was such a party animal?

He nudges Bede out of the way so he can get a better look into the cupboard, and his nose immediately curls. "Peppermint tea? Come on, mate, what's the point in that when you can just brush your teeth instead?"

Bede makes a face that makes it clear that's definitely one of his teas, and not Opal's. "It's refreshing. And good after a meal. Perfect on a hot summer's day," he insists as he grabs a teabag of the chamomile and places it into his own mug, and Hop just sniffs. He'll just take Bede's word on that one.

It does make him think, though. Why not experiment a bit while he has the chance? He allows his fingers to slide over each of the boxes before settling on one, and placing the teabag into the mug Bede laid out for him, and puffs himself up proudly over his adventurousness.

"Earl Grey?" Bede inquires, and Hop detects something in his voice, but he's not quite sure what.

"Yeah? It's what posh people drink, innit? So it must be good," Hop says, his logic one hundred percent sound with no flaws whatsoever.

Minutes later, they're both sitting on the living room sofa, Bede snickering into his palm as Hop suppresses the urge to gag.

"What's wrong with you? Why would you ever let me drink this?" Hop whines, because it's terrible, it's so, so terrible. He takes another sip, as if it somehow could have changed in the last ten seconds, and shudders when it very much has not done that.

"But you looked so proud of yourself," Bede drawls with a smirk. "How could I possibly stop you when you were oh so brave...?"

Hop scowls at Bede's teasing. "It tastes like dirt mixed with soap. Or soap mixed with dirt, I'm not quite sure," he says with a pout. It's thick and syrupy and oh, Arceus he wants to throw up just thinking about it.

Bede hums. "Maybe you should try it again so we can figure it out," he says, and Hop just puffs his cheeks out further. He looks back over to the kitchen. Is it too late to dump it and have a tea he actually likes?

As if reading his mind, Bede stands and takes Hop's mug, promptly pouring the dirt tea down the drain and starts to make him another tea. A part of Hop feels a bit guilty for being such a fuss, but his tea has become an important part of his nights in the last few weeks. He's not sure if he'd be able to sleep well without it at this point.

After a few minutes, Bede hands his mug back over, and Hop sighs with relief when it's a colour he actually recognises. "Thank you..." he says quietly, making sure to at least blow on it a bit before taking a sip. He learned that lesson the hard way. His fingers idly rub circles behind Sylveon's ears, who has curled up near his feet.

A beat passes, and Hop speaks up again. "Did you enjoy the festival?" he asks.

Bede snorts. "I organised it. Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"

Hop gives a small roll of his eyes. "Obviously I enjoyed it. It was... amazing. I just hope you managed to get some fun out of it in the end as well, since it stressed you out so much."

Bede's eyebrows raise slightly, and Hop gets the impression that Bede never really considered his own enjoyment to be important in the first place. "I suppose I did," Bede admits quietly. "It was nice being able to experience it with you."

Hop's heart clenches. Is his company really that interesting? Somehow, it seems like Bede always has more surprises in store, more proof that he's not the person that he thought he was all this time. "Good, good, that's... good," he says lamely, coughing into his elbow to cover up... whatever it is he's feeling.

Bede doesn't last much longer after that, since he already looked like he was close to passing out when they first entered the cottage. "G'night, Bede..." Hop says from the sofa, a blanket already draped over his legs. Bede lets out a heavy yawn. It really must be past his bedtime.

"Goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow," he says, allowing Sylveon into his bedroom before flicking off the lights and closing the door behind him.

All that remains now is the faint mushroom-light filtering between the blinds. Hop sighs softly, and lies back. He stares up at the ceiling, eyes wide open as he lays his hands out on his lap. He stews in silence, thoughts racing as he replays the night's events in his mind, and ponders the strange, silly feelings that have been fluttering around in his chest all night.

...

...

...

He's not stupid.

He knows he can come across a bit dim sometimes, but he promises he's not.

He knows exactly what these feelings are, has known ever since that evening in the Weald. He's just refused to acknowledge them, has been too scared to acknowledge them, terrified of what they could bloom into.

He thinks about Victor's determined gaze, his triumphant grins, his focused expression lit by gentle firelight. He thinks about Bede's teasing smirks, his radiant smile, and the shy, hesitant tilt of his lips lit by golden sunlight, the smile that felt like it was for him and him only. He thinks about late-night phonecalls, of conversations about each other's days while trading photos of their pokémon, and how all of it occupies the same special space in his mind.

He has feelings for Bede; that much is clear. Pitifully strong feelings for the fact that they haven't even been on good terms for that long, but what started out as a tiny crush he did his best to suppress has flared up into a raging inferno.

He thinks about the person Bede has become. Prideful, but not arrogant, well aware of his own capabilities and unwilling to sell himself or his pokémon short. Kind and considerate in that infuriating way where he almost doesn't want you to know that he cares. He thinks about how Bede's laugh changes once he starts to let his guard down, of how he cradles his mugs with both hands as if he's holding the most precious thing in the world.

And it all makes him feel sick.

He runs a hand slowly down his face. What a fool he is. What an utter fool he is to have allowed himself to sink so deep. He thought he was suppressing his feelings at the time, but he realises now that he was doing no such thing. He was indulging. Indulging himself in fantasies that were only ever going to end one way.

He's pathetic, really. What right does he have to play games with Bede like this? How dare he do this again after what happened with-, after what happened with...

After what happened with Victor.

He should have never allowed himself to fall into this hole, should have never allowed himself to even begin to feel such things. He can't allow the taint of his own feelings to ruin something he holds so dear ever again. He's in far too deep now, deep enough that Bede is inevitably going to end up hurt, but... it's better than the alternative.

And so Hop just stares up at the ceiling, because there's no chance he'll get any sleep tonight. He pretends to be asleep when Opal enters, and if she can tell, she doesn't comment on it. He checks his phone for the time occasionally, waiting for it to be late enough in the morning for him to be able to take a Corviknight cab home.

Once it's time, he stands. He changes back into his clothes from the night before, uncaring of how stupid he probably looks. He searches the cottage for a notebook and pen, quickly finding them and scribbling a note apologising for his disappearance. Something about Sonia needing him in the lab extra early, or something. He sticks the note onto the fridge with a magnet, and opens the front door.

Ballonlea feels eerier than ever. It's still far too early in the morning for even the slightest bit of sunlight to penetrate the Tangle. The decorations and stalls remain, but the streets are silent. It all seems quite hollow now, in Hop's mind.

He needs to get away from here, and needs to stay far, far away, at least until these terrible, terrible feelings have gone away. After that... he'll rebuild whatever he can between them. They'll be... friends. Maybe Bede won't ever truly forgive him for the distance he's about to create between them, but he's not so cruel as to put another of his friends through what he put Victor through.

He lets out a small sigh of relief when he sees that there's already a taxi waiting, and hops in through the open door.

His eyelids start to droop once he's in the air. He's still uneasy when flying, but he feels far more comfortable here than he did when the object of his affections was sleeping peacefully just one room away. His hands sink into his pockets, and he feels something. He pulls it out.

The necklace.

Hop tilts his head as he examines it, his arm resting on the window. It really is beautiful. He wonders if Bede would have given it to him if he knew. If he knew what poisonous thoughts have been swirling in his mind in the last few weeks. His fingers loosen, and the necklace dangles haphazardly out of the window.

Drop it.

His breath hitches. He hates it, hates how the gift makes him feel. Seen. Wanted. All things that are impossible for someone to truly feel for someone like him. He isn't worth any of it.

Drop it.

It could be so easy. To just throw it away. They're over the Wild Area, and it'd likely never get found by anyone ever again. It's a permanent reminder of what he can never have, a permanent reminder of the delusional fantasy he's created.

Drop it!

Hop's fingers close, clasping the necklace safely between them.

He can't do it, can't bring himself to discard something that's already so important to him, and to Bede as well. He wants... he wants these feelings to go away, but...

'You look perfect.'

'Don't go.'

'It's the same colour as your eyes.'

'It was nice being able to experience it with you.'

Maybe he can allow himself to indulge, one last time.

Bede falls face down onto the sofa, immediately burying his face into a cushion. He's content to do nothing, to not even think about anything today, least of all the problem that's been plaguing him for the last week.

He called off sick from the Gym, even though it probably wasn't necessary. Ballonlea's leg of the Gym Challenge is now over, and he spent the last week beating up— ahem, battling aspiring Gym Challengers. He definitely hasn't been taking out his rising frustrations on them, and it's entirely a coincidence that even more challengers dropped out at the Fairy Gym than usual this year.

He's inevitably going to get a stern talking to from the League, but that's fine. He's finally thrown the stupid party they've been asking him for (or rather, demanding from him) since he took over, so they can get stuffed for a bit.

Bede lets out a sigh. Now that it's all over, he just wants to lie here in blissful silence and do nothing but appreciate the soothing sensation of fabric in his face.

Sadly for him, his traitorous mind has other ideas.

His lip curls in contempt towards himself as he checks his Rotom phone for what is surely the twentieth time today. He's been trying his hardest not to look all week, but he can't stop himself. To think that he's become so reliant on such a confusing, wretched device.

Bede frowns as he looks over his messages with Hop over the last week, or rather, the complete lack thereof. They haven't spoken properly since the festival, and to say that he's gotten gradually more and more antsy as time has gone on would be an understatement.

Anxiety twists in Bede's gut. When he'd awoken the morning after the festival, he had found the living room where he left Hop completely empty, the only evidence of him having even been there being a note left on the fridge, stating that he had to rush early to the lab. On a Sunday.

It had seemed off in the moment, but Bede dismissed it as paranoia on his part. Now? The whole situation sets off alarm bells in his mind.

It's been a week since then, and they haven't called, haven't traded any photos of their pokémon, have only had extremely brief conversations through text; if Hop almost instantly saying that he's busy or tired can even count as a conversation, and that's if he even replies at all.

Bede starts to chew his lower lip. He knows it's perhaps a bit dramatic to be this worried after a single week, but... it's just abnormal. It's as if Hop's demeanour has completely changed since the festival. He just can't imagine the Hop of before dismissing him like this.

A part of him is desperate to know what the problem is, but it's warring with his fear of the very real possibility that the problem is him. Did he say something untoward at the festival? Did Hop only tolerate him for the rest of the night, taking the first opportunity to leave?

He lifts his face slightly, bringing up his hands to rub soothing, circular motions into his cheeks. He doesn't want to think about it, but it's been plaguing his mind ever since the festival, only increasing in its intensity. He wants to think that if Hop had a problem with him, he'd speak openly about it. Hop certainly had no reservations butting heads with him whenever they'd argue before.

A terrible feeling starts to grip his heart when he considers the other possibility. That it isn't rudeness or unkindness on his part that's driven Hop away, but the exact opposite. That he's been too overbearing, so obvious with his feelings on the night of the festival that—

Bede forcefully jams his face even deeper into the cushion than it was before. He isn't going to think about it. He's going to spend all of today like this, bathing in blissful nothingness. He'll likely spend tomorrow like this as well. And maybe the day after that. And maybe also—

A soft sound that is still, ultimately, a screech sounds out through the room, and Bede scowls, petulantly unmoving from his position.

Hatterene makes a slightly louder, more insistent sound, and Bede realises that she's likely to escalate things until the entire town is trembling in fear of her wrath. It's happened before.

Bede shifts, turning to his side, and pointedly matches the scowl Hatterene is directing his way. He knows she doesn't like it when he's feeling strong negative emotions, which is exactly why he's currently doing his best to keep them out of his mind. It isn't going well, but that's beside the point.

Hatterene hisses at him, and Bede sits himself up, about to reach for her ball to put her into time-out, when he hesitates. His frown softens, and he lets out a small sigh, looking to her. "I know you don't like it, but you know how things get sometimes," he says quietly, almost pleadingly. Hatterene continues to scowl, but the lack of noise tells him that she's at least listening. "Just... give me some time to weather the storm, and then things will be back to normal, okay?"

Back to his usual amount of emotional turmoil, at least. All he feels he can really do at this point is patiently wait for Hop to let him in again, or...

Or they'll go back to what they were before. Vaguely cold, distant rivals. That would be fine, wouldn't it? That's how they were for six years, and they've only gotten along in any capacity in the last month. It'd be fine if things went back the way they were.

And yet, the thought makes him feel sick.

The last month has been one of the brightest he's ever known, and it isn't even that begrudging of an admission anymore. It would be a rotten shame for things to go back to the way they were.

Hatterene's frown gradually disappears, and she lets out a soft, apologetic-sounding coo. Bede huffs. "There's nothing to apologise for. I know how hard it is for you when I'm upset." If anything, he'll always be impressed by her capacity to handle his volatility. She's always done her best to be patient with him, even at his lowest points, the ones where they'd both be hurting the most. The least he can do is tolerate some disgruntled hissing, because he's sure any other Hatterene in the world would have torn him to shreds by now.

He loves her. Very much.

Bede leans forward and picks up Hatterene's pokéball from the coffee table. "Would you like to return to your ball?" he asks. It isn't a perfect solution, but he can't stand it when she's suffering so much just because she wants to keep him company. Hatterene's scowl returns, and Bede huffs. "I promise I'll be okay," he says, and she lets out a begrudging-sounding exhale, which Bede interprets as a yes.

He returns Hatterene to her ball and slumps back onto the sofa, putting his head into his hands.

He hates it. Hates how she has to deal with someone like him. His heart aches over how protective she is of him, how often she chooses to suffer with him because she doesn't want him to be alone. It just isn't fair for her. Hatterene should be paired with trainers who can keep their cool, not someone who feels things as strongly as he does. It's a weakness of his, one that he's still trying to overcome.

Bede lets out a heavy sigh, because although that's one concerned pokémon dealt with, he can practically hear the other screaming to be let out of her ball.

He releases Sylveon, and she immediately bounds onto his lap with a sharp mew, feelers instantly wrapping around his arm and trying to get to work. Memories instantly flood Bede's mind, and his breath hitches when most of them are just Hop, Hop, Hop—

"P-please, sweetheart, no need for that," he says as he gently detaches her from his arm, already woozy from the sheer intensity of it all. Sylveon gives a sharp, indignant mew in response, and Bede waggles his finger at her. "Don't get bossy with me, young lady. You know I'm trying to get less reliant on you."

Sylveon gives him a scowl that might be even more severe than the one Hatterene was giving him before, clearly deeply displeased with the situation. Bede huffs. Is he really that bad right now? She's usually only this insistent when he's really spiralling. He's not spiralling. He's perfectly fine.

Officially, she's a therapy pokémon, one provided by the League to help with his trouble regulating his emotions, as they put it. He spent a lot of his time in his early years as Gym Leader blissed out on the sofa with Sylveon pumping pleasant sensations, visions, and what few happy memories he had at that point in his life into his mind. It was a patch job for his problems then, and it's even more true now.

Nowadays, it's only when he wakes from nightmares of red and purple skies that he doesn't try to push her away. She's the only thing stopping him from completely losing his mind in those moments when he feels like he's going to get swallowed up by the earth itself.

Pathetic, really.

In either case, given that his current dilemma can ultimately be boiled down to boy trouble, he thinks it'll be best if he handles this one without her help.

Bede is broken out of his thoughts when Sylveon gently paws against his cheek, a concerned frown still sitting on her face. He really is doing a fantastic job of upsetting all of his pokémon today, isn't he?

He lets out a breath that's far too stuttering for his tastes. "You can sit with me, but no feelers, okay?" He'd maybe consider letting her do her thing if she could dig up memories that aren't related to Hop, but he doubts that's how it works.

Hop would know. And if he doesn't know, he'd do his best to find out, perform his own research if he has to. Suffice to say it's not really an option right now, though.

Sylveon tentatively curls up on Bede's lap as he lies back on the sofa, and his hands begin to idly knead into her fur. It's always easy to placate her with cuddles. He briefly considers the morality of manipulating his therapy pokémon into not doing what's supposed to be her job, but quickly banishes the thought to the back of his mind.

He takes a deep, steadying breath. Maybe Hop really is just that busy. He's mentioned before that he's trying to get started on his dissertation, and Sonia's always said that he has a tendency to drown himself so hard in work he barely has time for much else. Of course Hop doesn't have time anymore for their stupid little calls late into the night.

What was supposed to be a reassuring thought sits heavily in his gut. It's only been a month, a month of pleasant enough interaction between them, and he's already like this, completely enamoured with him.

Bitterness begins to take hold in his mind, because a part of him knows that it was only a matter of time. Who did he think he was, thinking that a month of him being tolerable at best to Hop would somehow undo six years of treating him poorly? He's been so obsessed with this sad, little crush he's developed that he's obviously completely overestimated his standing in Hop's mind.

He's always been like that. Getting far too attached, far too quickly to anyone he believes is being kind to him. It's a classic at this point. His simple brain simply can't consider the possibility that he thinks far more highly of people than they do of him until it's too late. At least there's no betrayal to shatter the illusion this time, just a slow withering away of something that's come to mean so much to him.

He knows it's dramatic, knows that it's only been a week, but a part of him still feels like the world is ending all over again. He's not sure if he can go back to the way things were between them now that he's seen how things can be.

Maybe he's pathetic for that, as well.

One of Sylveon's feelers gently wraps around his wrist as he continues to pet her. Not connecting to him, or projecting any memories, just a touch in return for his.

She really is precious. The League's therapist has hammered it into his mind over and over that it's a it's a bad way of thinking that does nothing good for him, but he truly does struggle to see a world where he deserves her, deserves any of the things that, let's face it, he's been given.

One of the most coveted, prestigious positions in the region. A house, a home for him to stay in. Friends whom he initially rejected at every possible turn, who stuck by him despite all of it. Everything he holds dear ultimately fell into his lap.

Even his uplifting from the orphanage. The education that played a significant part in him becoming the trainer he is now. His first partner, who means the entire world to him.

Even after so long, so often do his thoughts wander to him. To Rose. It's as if there's a cloud constantly hanging over his head, ready to turn into a raging storm at any moment. It's like there's a voice always whispering in the back of his mind, lying in wait for him to be at his lowest for it to scream at him the truth that without Rose, he'd be nothing, less than nothing, that it was a sheer, cosmic coincidence that he fell into the hands of such a man.

He's deeply thankful to him. Even now. And despite everything.

He discretely returns Sylveon to her ball once he's confident she's asleep. She'll be annoyed with him later, but that's fine. He needs some time alone. Truly alone.

He stands and walks into his bedroom. Opal will be home soon, and he just doesn't want to deal with her inevitable nagging when she returns. He closes the door behind him, and catches his own gaze in the mirror. Some days, when he sees his reflection, he sees a person he's proud of, a person who has come a long way to truly improve himself. Today, it's the insecure, lost child from the orphanage that he sees staring back at him.

He slams the curtains shut, bathing the room in darkness.

Maybe things would have been better that way. If he'd continued to rot in that orphanage.

...

...

After maybe only twenty minutes of lying there in the dark, his bedroom door opens, and light immediately floods the room.

"Do get up. I didn't allow you to stay home just for you to hide in the dark all day," Opal says as she reopens his curtains, and Bede knows it's only a matter of time before she begins to release all of his pokémon from their balls, one by one, and then he'll be in trouble. Still, until then...

"Hmrgnph," he says, face buried deep into his sheets.

Opal sniffs. "What was that? Speak up, boy, you know I'm hard of hearing these days."

Bede's lips press together because no, he's quite sure she isn't going deaf quite yet (miraculously), but also because she's already talking utter nonsense, since all he did was mumble incoherently.

He begrudgingly lifts himself up slightly, his hair surely a complete mess. "You didn't allow me to stay home. I make my own decisions. Independently of you," he says, well aware that it's a childish argument, but she's the one who started it. Why should it fall to him to be more mature than a ninety-four-year-old hag?

Still, he gets up, somehow feeling like he's the one acting like a child when Opal ignores him and walks away. She's quite good at doing that. When he reaches the open doorway, he sees her taking a seat at the dining table, surely expecting him to sit across from her. Bede squirms in place, because he knows it's about to be one of those talks. He delays the inevitable by looking over the cottage. It's even more of a mess than usual, bread left out on the counter, glasses left on the coffee table, and various blankets strewn over the sofas. All his doing, he's sure.

He eventually obeys her unsaid request, and sits in the seat opposite her. His nails start to scratch nervously on the leg of his chair as he avoids eye contact, and he takes in a shallow breath. "I... apologise for my behav—"

Opal puts out a hand, and he pauses. "Do not debase yourself in front of me," she says. "You have nothing to apologise for. I simply wish to know what has you so upset."

Upset. He's always hated that word, has always found it demeaning, but he feels too ashamed of his assumption that he was in trouble to focus on it too much. His cheeks redden as he hangs his head, and he brings a nail to his mouth, only to immediately see that they've all already been bitten raw.

"It's stupid," he says. "I'm just worrying over something that needn't be worried over."

Opal hums, and allows that statement to hang in the air for a long, long moment, before eventually speaking up. "Did that make you feel better?" she asks.

Bede frowns. "What?"

"Did it make you feel better? Simply dismissing your feelings, such as you just did?" Opal says, and Bede squirms in his seat. He really does think it's stupid, but...

No. It didn't make him feel any better at all.

He breathes in, and out, his arms gently wrapping around himself. "You are aware that I've been growing relatively... close to Hop, correct?" he says, looking to Opal and expecting her to smirk and say something like 'quite the change of heart, hmm?', but she just stares, clearly intent on making him do all of the work. Bede huffs. "We... haven't spoken since the festival and I'm... concerned that I may have said or done something that's caused him to begin avoiding me."

Opal nods languidly. "And you have no inkling as to what you may have done?" she asks, and Bede thinks for a moment before shaking his head. He supposes that the more accurate wording would be that his head is filled with so many possibilities that he doesn't know what to do with them all. Maybe he was accidentally too harsh when they were messing around, maybe Hop really is just busy...

Maybe he realised what Bede's true feelings for him are. Most people don't buy their friends jewellery that they think matches their eyes, after all. "I told you, it's stupid—"

"Anything that bothers you so much as to isolate yourself is quite serious, in my opinion," Opal counters, and Bede withers under her glare. After a few silent moments, Opal brings a thoughtful finger to her chin. "Perhaps it's due to his obvious blossoming feelings for you," she says, deathly serious, and Bede chokes.

"That's— that's ridiculous, and also I don't—"

"Oh, please, do not get me started with you, young man. You're positively smitten with him. Let's call a spade a spade, hm?" Opal says, and leans the slightest bit forward, leering at him as if daring him to argue.

Bede gives her a dangerous scowl, his entire face flushed a deep crimson. "And what of it?"

Opal just laughs at that. "Oh, look at you. You can frown at me all you like, but it doesn't change the fact that you already feel a weight off of your shoulders," she says, and Bede's lips curl into a sneer because she's right. He hates her, hates how she's always right about literally everything, because his chest does already feel lighter. His frown slowly drops, and he brings a hopeless hand to his forehead.

"I don't know what to do," he admits weakly. The second he had started to feel like he'd managed to get a true feeling of stability in his life, he ruined it all by getting a crush, of all things. He doesn't want to give Opal's comment on Hop's alleged feelings the light of day, the idea far too asinine to even entertain right now.

Opal lets out a long, drawn-out exhale. "Well... I can't offer much practical advice in that department, I'm afraid. Romance is quite dreadful, in my eyes," she says, and Bede would have fully agreed with her until recently. "Have you tried speaking to him other than through that device of yours?" she asks, and Bede doesn't exactly know why she's pretending not to know what a phone is all of the sudden.

"I've been busy," Bede insists, because he really has been, having been battling challengers nonstop for the entire week.

"Are you busy now?" Opal quickly counters, and... no, he isn't, really. He's taken today off, and his main responsibility now is ensuring that he's ready for the championship in Wyndon once the Gym Challenge comes to a close. Ballonlea's part is done, and it's freed up a lot of his time.

"Then I'm sure he's busy," Bede counters back, partially because assuming otherwise would mean it really must be his own fault that Hop isn't talking to him, and partially because the idea of marching up to the lab right now utterly terrifies him. If Hop wants to speak with him, he will. He just needs to be patient.

"Hmph," is all that Opal says at first, turning up her nose and going quiet for a few moments. "Well, frankly, I thought he was quite the gentleman, but evidently not if this is how he treats you," she says, and that immediately raises Bede's hackles.

"I'm sure he has his reasons," he says with a frown. "He wouldn't suddenly stop speaking to me unless there was a reasonable excuse for it." He might still enjoy making fun of Hop every now and then, but he's definitely going to defend Hop's honour if she's going to say things like that behind his back.

Somehow, when Bede sees the look on Opal's face, he feels like he's been led into a trap. "A reasonable excuse, hm? Sounds to me like you have nothing to worry about, then," Opal says.

Bede gives her a weary look. "You are aware that him suddenly disliking me is indeed quite a reasonable excuse, no?" he says, and he immediately shrinks under Opal's glare. "Sorry..."

"Do not apologise to me, apologise to yourself. You've come an incredibly long way, and you should never understate the progress you've made because you have plenty to be proud of," Opal says, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You are not the boy you once were, though even he was dealt a terrible hand. Do not be so harsh on him, either."

Bede's cheeks heat up at her words. He's not so sure about that. His old behaviour was unacceptable, and sometimes he thinks his current behaviour is still unacceptable, but... he does know he has much to be proud of. He just has a rotten tendency to fall back into old habits when he loses control of his life, and this situation with Hop has thrown him into complete disarray. "I just don't know what to do... I'm scared that I've ruined things between us somehow," he eventually says quietly.

Opal's fingers drum against the wood of the table, and then she shrugs. "Oh, well. I suppose there's nothing you can do except mope around the cottage then," she says, and Bede's stomach churns at the idea. The only thing he can imagine that's worse than doing something about it is continuing to do nothing about it. Opal gives a pleased smile, clearly guessing his train of thought. "But you're not the sort to give up when you're down, are you, hm?"

"Of course not," Bede says indignantly, even though he's well aware that the only person in this room who truly doubted him was himself. She's right, though. He should never have lowered himself to the point of lying down and crying just because he's hit a snag.

He lets out a heavy exhale, because their conversation has run its course. Opal can't fix this for him, but he's thankful for her pulling him out of the confines of his mind a bit. He's the only one who can fix whatever has happened, and he isn't going to do it while hiding away in his bedroom.

"Indeed," Opal says, and stands. "I shall make us lunch, since I'm sure you haven't eaten a single thing today."

Bede thanks Arceus and just about anyone else he can think of for the fact that his stomach didn't audibly growl in response to that, because it easily could have. "I can help," he insists because he always tries to help her, even though he's incredibly mediocre in the kitchen. Opal waves him off.

"Not today," she says. "You're already distracted, and I'd rather not risk you cutting yourself while chopping vegetables."

Bede takes note of his hands, which are, admittedly, trembling slightly. He doesn't think he ate much yesterday either. He decides not to point out that a ninety-four-year-old woman also probably shouldn't be up and about chopping vegetables either, and instead just nods.

He walks back into his bedroom and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. After lunch, he'll have to face the music, though what exactly that will entail, he isn't sure.

He can't stop the anxiety from resurfacing at the thought. Will Hop be at the lab? Would it be too much to visit? What if—

Bede lets out a frustrated groan, and hugs a pillow against his chest because his mind is an absolute mess right now. He's content to solve physical problems just fine. It's handling people that gets to him. People are unpredictable, and he's never known how to handle them properly, Hop most of all. Despite how much they've spoken in the last month, Bede keeps getting the impression that there's so much that he still doesn't know about Hop, so much more to be found in the way his smile drops when he thinks Bede isn't paying attention, in the occasional long silences that that neither of them ever acknowledge in their phonecalls.

'I think he's lonely, Bede.'

Gloria's words from her last visit echo in his mind, and he runs a hand through his hair. It's something to go off of, at least, and his brow immediately wrinkles in worry.

What if it's nothing to do with him? He's been so focused on himself that he's only now considering the possibility that Hop is going through something right now, that he might need support more than anything. Gloria seemed to suggest that Hop doesn't really speak to that many people, and she's extremely busy right now, bogged down by all of the things expected of her in the lead-up to the championship. It leaves Bede with the question... is Hop talking to anyone right now? Sonia, maybe, but he's not a hundred percent sure.

He remembers Gloria saying how Hop completely shut everyone out after whatever happened with Victor, and Bede can't help but feel that something similar might have happened.

He needs to know.

Determination glints in Bede's eyes as he steadies himself. He promised Gloria that he wouldn't hurt Hop, that he would do his best to look out for him. He's not sure if he's done a good job of it so far, but all he can do now is try to make up for it.

He'll visit Hop at the lab after lunch and do his best to get a straight answer out of him. It might be difficult, but Bede is persistent. If Hop is upset with him, he'll apologise. If Hop is upset about something else, he'll try to be there for him. Easy.

It won't be easy, he knows that. But he's glad to have gotten his thoughts together, at least.

He pulls out his phone, intent on calling Sonia to inform her that he'll be visiting shortly for... research reasons. He'll figure out a better excuse in the Corviknight taxi. He scrolls to her contact, and presses call.

It takes a few rings for her to answer, but when Sonia speaks, she sounds frantic. "Bede! Arceus, I was just about to ring you. Have you seen him?"

The urgency in her voice is clear, and Bede frowns, his chest tightening. "Seen... who?" he asks tentatively, dread already pooling in his gut.

Sonia exhales hard. "Bede..." she starts, and Bede is already bracing himself for the blow, all of the composure he's just built already beginning to crumble because—

"Hop is missing."

Hop lets out a groan, peeling his forehead from his desk. The movement wakes his laptop, still on the page where he was reading about the phylogenetic differences between Galarian Zigzagoon and...

He huffs as he rubs the sleep from his eyes, unable to muster the energy to pretend he especially cares, even only to himself. He couldn't sleep last night, and nothing knocks him out better than staring at a laptop screen until his eyes hurt.

Nothing except the tea Bede gave him, but he's all out of that, so it's back to the old reliable now.

He checks his phone for the time. Seven o'clock... he's lucky he didn't oversleep, should have set an alarm. He has work today after all. His brain feels foggy still, but hopefully a quick shower will clear his head a bit.

One shower later (most of which he spent with his head pressed against the wall), and he's ready to- ready to...

What is he doing again?

The lab! The lab. He has... work. Which means he needs to be at the lab in... half an hour.

Arceus, he's a mess right now, has been ever since that stupid festival and ever since he started avoiding Bede. Not that it has anything to do with him avoiding Bede, he's just in a bit of a fuzz, that's all. He has quite the history of this, after all, as adept as he usually is at not letting it show.

Hop turns to the mirror. There are dark circles under his eyes, eyes which currently look dull and drab. He thinks about the necklace that sits at the bottom of one of his drawers, the one he probably should have just let fly above Lake Axewell, and wonders how something so beautiful is possibly supposed to match eyes like these.

No, he can't find himself agreeing much at all.

With a dry swallow of some painkillers, he's out the door earlier than usual. He's not very good at keeping himself still after all. His fingers had hesitated above his pokéballs, but he ultimately decided to go without them. His team always get stressed when he's like this, and he'd just rather not deal with Dubwool shouting to be released from his ball only to try to headbutt the sadness out of him once he's out.

Hop closes the garden gate behind him and pauses, eyes drifting to his left and decidedly away from Wedgehurst, instead looking to the Slumbering Weald.

His head is still an utter mess, and he'd like to be in a decent enough state at work to at least be able to put on a good enough smile for Sonia to not bother him all day, because she's even more persistent than Dubwool is. A walk might help.

Hop's hands slowly open the gate to the Weald. Just one trip to the shrine and back, that's all. He'll come out with a clearer head, and then he'll go straight to the lab. A bit late, maybe, but Sonia probably won't notice, and if she does notice he'll just spin some story about some disaster of a morning where he burnt his toast, and nearly tripped down the stairs, and forgot to tie his shoelaces, and she'll laugh and he'll try his best to laugh with her and then everything will be fine.

Sorted.

The Weald is utterly silent other than the soft thumps of Hop's footsteps as he walks the path, following his own alternate route to the shrine. There are far fewer pokémon this way, and while Hop likes them just fine, he usually comes here to be alone. It's all a bit counterintuitive when there's a bunch of Munna staring at him.

...

A scowl slowly starts to form on Hop's face, because his peaceful walk doesn't feel very peaceful, since his mind won't shut up. The walk is clearing his mind, but he's quickly realising that that's the opposite of what he wants right now, that it's only causing all the stupid thoughts he's spent the last week trying to suppress to bubble up to the surface.

His chest tightens and he grits his teeth, guilt and shame filling his mind as he thinks back to every short and terse reply he's given to Bede, every cold dismissal he's sent in the place of what would once have been a selfie of him smooshing his face into Dubwool's, or a messily-typed paragraph of whatever new information he learned about a pokémon that day, or a rant about some disaster of an experiment at the lab.

He just wants these stupid feelings to go away so that he can just go back to being friends with Bede because he's not sure if he can handle getting his heart broken again, doesn't want to know what sort of person he'll become if he does. Call him sensitive all you like, but he puts everything he has into his relationships. Everything. Far, far too much, but he just can't help it. His friends are deeply important to him, and when they become more than that?

Well, he already knows from experience that losing such a thing feels utterly earth-shattering.

Tears start to bubble in the corner of his eyes, because he hates feeling this way, hates even more that said feelings won't piss off because he's trying! He's trying to get over him! They haven't properly spoken in over a week, and he thought that would be enough to make the feelings at least start to fade, but they've been replaced with a deep yearning that makes him want to put his head in a pot of boiling water. He's only gotten more desperate to see Bede, to go back to talking to him about nothing, to learn even more about the wonderful, wonderful person he's come to realise that Bede is.

Every time he tries to think back to their battle in the rain, to try to delude himself into thinking that that is the real Bede, he struggles to even imagine it, Bede's cruel sneer having been thoroughly replaced with teasing smirks and honest smiles in his mind. The image of the spoiled, arrogant brat has been completely scrubbed away, replaced with someone who Hop knows loves his pokémon more than anything, who 'accidentally' buys too many pastries at the bakery to share with the trainers at his gym, who has for whatever unfathomable reason, seemingly carved out a massive part of his life and dedicated it to him.

To someone as rotten as him.

Hop snarls, wiping away the tears from his eyes before they can fall, trying and failing to take deep breaths. He wraps his arms around himself, as if the motion will help to physically hold him together as he gets back to walking, more urgently this time.

It's just a bit further to the shrine. He'll feel better there.

Once he reaches the clearing, Hop skips his usual first step of admiring the tranquil scenery and quickly makes his way to the shrine itself. He kneels, uncaring of how the knees of his trousers are inevitably going to be scuffed, and closes his eyes. It's stupid, but...

He speaks aloud here, sometimes. It's stupid and embarrassing, but he imagines himself talking to one of the old heroes - Zacian's original trainer. The one who fought against the original Darkest Day. He doesn't know why, but... he feels like they would understand him somehow. Even though they likely had far more pressing issues back then than the threat of a broken heart.

But still, he pretends. Pretends that whoever they were, no matter how long-dead they are, that they understand what he's going through, and that if they survived their own hardships, so can he.

He doesn't have much to say this time. Instead, he imagines a reassuring hand on his shoulder, whispers that he'll be okay, that he's strong, and that strong people don't let things like this get to them.

His shuddering breaths begin to stabilise, his beating heart begins to slow, and his mind begins to still... until he makes the mistake of looking behind him.

Hop freezes when his eyes land on the spot where Bede once stood, his mind immediately drifting to the photo that's been practically burned into his retinas at this point, of the smile that made his heart flutter that very first time.

And he suddenly realises that he's lost this place, that the reason why the Weald has done little to console him today is because he's come to associate this place with him. With Bede. This is where it all began, and that's something he can never take back.

He can never take it back.

Hop stands, and begins to move, returning the way he came. He regrets ever bringing Bede here, regrets ever allowing any feelings of romance to enter his heart. He should have learned his lesson the first time because it hurts. It hurts so much to want so much that he can't have because he's greedy. He's a greedy piece of shit that—

His breath hitches, and he suddenly realises that he hasn't been paying attention to where he was going, has completely lost his bearings. He wipes cold sweat from his brow, panic starting to grip his heart as he realises he's definitely gone off track.

He needs to get out of here. What was once a safe haven suddenly feels oppressive, the air feeling so thick that he can barely breathe. He breaks into a run because he's already lost, so he'd may as well keep going. He just wants to get out of here, needs to get out of here, he needs to get out—!

A yelp escapes his lips when his foot catches on a root, and he's sent tumbling off the path. He puts out his other foot to correct himself, but it lands awkwardly onto uneven ground. His ankle twists, and he's sent careening head-first into the thicket.

Hop lands face-first with a heavy thump, his teeth audibly clacking when his jaw makes contact with the ground. He fell... much further than he'd expected. He lets out a weak sound, taking in short, winded breaths as he looks around.

He's fallen into a deep crevasse, the walls far too steep for him to climb, at least if his ankle is sprained as badly as he thinks it is. He does his best to lift himself up, letting out a whimper when he puts even the slightest bit of weight on his bad foot.

His fingers rake into the dirt, and he tries to shimmy himself up, but it's no use. The second he has to put weight on his ankle, it completely gives out, and he falls back to the bottom.

Hop lets out a manic-sounding laugh, bringing a hand to his forehead as it starts to sink in just how much trouble he's in. He's stuck alone in a labyrinth of a forest that nobody even knows he went into.

His eyes suddenly widen, and his hands immediately pat at his pockets. Phone, phone, phone... where the bloody hell is his phone?! He didn't... did he not...?

He must have left it at home. He falls back into a sitting position and puts his head into his hands.

He's stuck. Injured. In the depths of the Weald. Alone.

It's ironic, really. The first time he ventured into the Weald, he got hopelessly lost as well. But back then, he at least had Victor and Gloria by his side, had Lee to save them when things got dire. But now Victor is gone, and Glo and Lee are up in Wyndon. Who is going to save him now?

He hiccups, tears starting to fall down his face, because the answer is simple.

No one.

He has no one.

"Tell me everything," Bede says, doing his best to keep his voice stable as if he isn't actually panicking out of his mind right now.

Sonia sighs heavily, making no effort to hide her own worry. "I've spoken with his mum. She says he left the house this morning to go to work, and I know that he never turned up." She gestures to the lab around them, one that is thoroughly lacking the Hop that should currently be here.

Bede pinches his nose, Sonia's words doing nothing except making his stomach churn as the reality of the situation starts to sink in. "It's not very far for someone to get lost," he comments weakly. It's only a five-minute walk along Route 1 to reach Wedgehurst, and it's not exactly treacherous. Not unless a herd of Wooloo suddenly decided they had a taste for meat and—

Eugh. Maybe he's been watching too many old scary films late at night on the sofa.

"It's not," Sonia agrees, bringing Bede out of his thoughts. "He must not have gone straight to the lab," she adds, and Bede can't argue with the logic. He either walked straight past the lab to Arceus only knows where, or...

"You've checked the Slumbering Weald?" Bede asks, arms crossed. Ever since the Flying Taxi landed in Wedgehurst, his eyes have drifted towards the ancient forest in the distance.

Much to his dismay, Sonia nods.

"Went the whole way to the shrine and back. He wasn't there," she says, and Bede gets the impression that that was the moment she really started to panic, likely around the time he called her. With a sigh, Bede leans back against the wall, wracking his brain to think of where Hop might've gone.

Bede clicks his fingers. "The- the Wild Area. He's been training out there lately, hasn't he?" he says. Granted, not in the mornings as far as he knows, but... it's something. Bede is already opening up his phone to look at the photos Hop sent before to try to figure out where exactly he might be, when—

"He left his phone and his pokémon behind, Bede."

Bede freezes, the words stopping him in his tracks. "Why would he—" he cuts himself off with a sharp intake of air. A myriad of possibilities cross his mind, none of them good, none of them good at all.

His fists clench because he knew something was up, knew something was wrong the second Hop left his cottage without a word. If he'd just tried harder to force his way back into Hop's life, maybe this wouldn't have happened. Or at least, maybe he'd have a clue where Hop could have gone.

Bede takes a breath. This isn't about him. Whatever feelings he holds towards Hop, and whatever guilt he feels over the last week is irrelevant now because Hop is missing, and he could be in trouble. Those are the facts, and it leaves little time for moping. They need to find Hop, and soon, before he ends up ripping out every last strand of his hair. "Who... who else is looking?"

Sonia sighs. "Leon and Gloria are already combing the Wild Area," she says, and Bede imagines she means that they're turning the place absolutely upside-down looking for him. "And I've asked every Gym Leader to look around their towns."

Bede nods slowly. He's already ordered all of his gym's trainers to search Ballonlea and the Tangle for a man with a purple head of garlic for hair. Still... Bede struggles to imagine Hop being anywhere near Ballonlea, and so he rushed to the lab to figure out as much as he could. Which, sadly, isn't much so far.

He starts to massage his temples, trying to think logically where Hop could have gone, what could have possibly happened.

And comes up short.

Bede lets out an unrestrained growl of frustration, turning to face Sonia, only to see her looking back at him just as helplessly. It just doesn't make sense. Hop would never just completely disappear without telling anyone. If there's anything he's learned about Hop in recent weeks, it's that his capacity to utterly deflect any concern that comes his way is unrivalled. He would never risk kicking up such a fuss on purpose.

And Bede can't shake the feeling that Hop isn't that far at all.

"The Weald," he says, determination lacing his tone. "He must be in the Weald." Ever since he heard Hop was missing, the idea has sat in the back of his mind, has now taken root in his gut, and it's something he refuses to let go until he sees for himself.

"Bede—"

"I know you've already looked!" Bede says sharply, immediately following up his words with an apologetic expression for losing his temper. "I just..." He trails off, thinking back to when Hop had shown him the Weald for the first time. He'd seemed... at home there. More than anywhere.

He must be there.

"I'm going," Bede says decisively, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, already making his way to the door when Sonia calls out.

"Don't... don't go off the path, okay?" she says, twirling her ponytail nervously. "I don't want to lose you, too."

Bede lets out an exhale, securing his cap on his head. He's not sure how much he can promise, since Sonia's following of said path found nothing, but he nods. "I'll bring him back, okay?" he says, and after receiving a nod in return, he's out the door.

Whatever facsimile of composure Bede had held in front of Sonia swiftly crumbles as he reaches Postwick, his hurried walk turning to a run as he reaches the final leg - the gate to the Slumbering Weald.

He hesitates. He's not entirely sure why he's so sure that Hop is here. He wants to think that it's just simple logic, a foregone conclusion, but he knows it's not. That's never been how he operates, relying more on his instincts than anything, always feeling before he thinks.

And he feels that Hop is here.

Bede closes the gate behind him, and begins to walk. No thoughts cross his mind, too focused on recalling the route Hop led him along the first time, with only a faint, faint grasp on his bearings. He occasionally calls out Hop's name, the tension in his gut only getting worse each time he receives no reply.

Hop mentioned once that there isn't anywhere in the region quieter than the Slumbering Weald, and even the first time, he couldn't disagree more.

Flickers of movement dance in the corners of his vision, and there's a racket of what sounds like whispers carrying on the soft, almost imperceptible breeze. It's stifling, it's overstimulating, and it feels very much alive and awake, despite its slumbering reputation. It's eerily similar to the Tangle in so many ways, but he can at least somewhat pinpoint what's actually causing the ruckus in his own forest.

It's the Impidimp. It's always the Impidimp.

Bede thanks every god he can think of, even making a few up just in case, when he successfully manages to find the clearing, and then proceeds to curse every single one of them because Hop isn't here, just like Sonia said. He clenches his fists in anger because what a fool he is for relying on some feeling in his gut when he could be helping the search in the Wild Area, could be leading the charge into the Tangle instead of wasting his time searching somewhere that's already been searched.

The clearing, which had been a reprieve from the oppressive atmosphere of the path the first time, now feels even more suffocating than the forest itself, endless agitated, wordless voices constantly whispering, whispering, whispering—

"Shut up!" Bede snarls, sick to death of hearing them. He clamps his hands over his ears, but the relentless noise manages to penetrate directly into his mind. He's close to physically lashing out at the air as if that'd possibly help when the whispers start to slow, to quieten down to a low, gentle din, except for one, one which is more urgent and persistent than the rest.

Behind him.

Bede spins around and almost feels a physical push on his back, a push back in the direction he came. He decides not to think too much about the strange, alarmingly sentient-seeming forest seemingly trying to help him, and rushes forward, feet thumping against the ground until he reaches a fork in the path. He turns towards the left route, the way he came, when he realises that the whispers have now diverged, coming from the right.

If he had any doubts as to where they were leading him, they're gone now.

Bede changes course and begins to run, doing his best to memorise the turns he's taking now that he's going from barely familiar territory into completely unfamiliar territory.

Suddenly, the whispers intensify, surrounding him, still completely wordless and yet simultaneously feeling like they're screaming here, here, here!

Bede looks around, and there's nothing here; the sights around him identical to those of everywhere else in this wretched forest, but the whispers stay insistent, and so he calls out.

"Hop...?"

Hop flinches when he hears the voice, Bede's voice, and whatever reservations he may have with being around Bede again are instantly sent to the back of his mind.

Unless this is a delirious hallucination, which would be... very unfortunate!

"I-I'm here!" Hop shouts out, his voice hoarse, and he soon hears hurried footsteps approaching. "Careful! It's... it's a bit of a drop," he adds weakly.

The footsteps slow in their approach, now more careful and measured, and after a few seconds, Bede's head pops into view.

And Arceus, Hop has never been so glad to see him.

"Bloody hell, are you alright!?" Bede says, and his eyes, wide and panicked, are darting over Hop's form as if expecting to see some dire injury.

"Ankle's bollocksed," Hop says, expecting his words to calm Bede down a bit, but his gaze only sharpens. Hop puts out his hands soothingly. "M'fine, honest! Just... could do with some help getting out?" He gestures vaguely to the steep, muddy walls around him, wincing internally because whatever nice, fancy clothes Bede is probably wearing are going to be wrecked after this.

Bede frowns, but begins to move, clearly choosing not to speak his mind quite yet as he starts to scoot down into the crevasse. Hop averts his gaze when Bede makes contact and silently helps him up. It's clumsy and awkward, with more of Bede's hands on his arse than he'd been expecting when he woke up today, but he manages to grip a root that allows him to pull himself up the rest of the way.

All of the air Hop had been holding within his lungs promptly vacates as he rolls himself over the ridge of the slope, onto his back. He did his best not to think about it too much, but... a part of him heavily considered the possibility that he would die down there. He sits up and grins as a struggling Bede pulls himself up when he suddenly realises something. Something deeply strange.

"You're wearing a cap," Hop says, blinking dumbly towards Bede, and towards the Ballonlea Stadium baseball cap sitting atop his head.

"What—" Bede's hands immediately move up to fiddle with his hat self-consciously, and then his eyes narrow into slits. "Do not attempt to distract me from the fact that I just found you lying in some ditch in the most remote place in the bloody region, you absolute dimwit," he hisses. "You had everyone worried sick!"

Hop averts his eyes, partially out of guilt for worrying everyone but also because, well...

Bede looks pretty like this.

It's just such a surprise! Bede is always dressed so posh, and he likes that as well! He does! But now he's dressed all rugged in a t-shirt and shorts. His legs are muddy and he looks a bit sweaty, but he still looks perfect, and Hop thinks it all might have rewired his brain a bit and—

Hop bites his tongue, doing his best not to physically slap himself because he needs to focus! He's supposed to be avoiding Bede, is supposed to keep a distance between them, but...

He's glad to see him. Despite everything.

Hop squirms when he realises that Bede is staring at him expectantly, definitely wants some sort of reply, or apology, or something. "E-err... everyone?" he ekes out.

"Everyone," Bede repeats, and Hop shudders under the weight of his words, because he's in trouble.

Big trouble.

Hop scratches the back of his neck. "Sorry, mate... just went for a bit of a walk before work and—"

"Without your Pokémon?" Bede interrupts, clearly intent on continuing his onslaught. "You ignore me for the last week, and when I finally decide that enough is enough, Sonia tells me you're bloody missing and then I end up finding you in some ditch where you could've—" He cuts himself off with a sharp intake of air.

Where he could have died. Hop is well aware what the stakes were today.

Different thoughts war in Hop's mind. Guilt over making Bede worry so much. Almost a sense of elation at the fact that Bede worried so much over him, has been worrying all week. A nagging urge to push Bede away, and an equally strong urge to just give it all up and throw himself to the floor and beg for forgiveness. And so Hop locks up, unsure what to make of the entire situation, unsure what to do, when Bede suddenly makes the decision for him.

Hop's breath hitches when he feels Bede's arms wrap around his torso, having lowered himself to Hop's level and pulled him into a desperate-feeling hug.

"You absolute idiot," Bede hisses. "What, you think you can scrape your way into my life and then leave just like that?" he says, and Hop isn't entirely sure if Bede means his radio silence for the last week or the fact that he could have died here. Both, probably.

But he can barely even hear the words, too busy burying his face into Bede's shoulder. The sudden closeness is surprising, something he'd have never expected from Bede, and...

Warm.

Hop hates it, hates how much he's craved this, how much he's thought about closing the gap himself, and now he doesn't know what to do now that he's feeling Bede's touch. He knows that it's only out of worry, knows that it's only because Bede thought he was in serious trouble, but it's touch all the same.

"M'sorry..." is all he says, returning the hug because he knows he'll lose it soon. He wants to treasure it while he can, even though he thinks a smack is what he deserves more than anything right now.

Bede just huffs, eventually breaking the contact and starting to rummage through his bag. His entire face has gone red, surely embarrassed at what he just did, but Hop isn't going to judge when he probably needed that even more than Bede did.

Bede hands over a water bottle, and Hop suddenly realises just how parched he is. "Thank you..." he says quietly, unclasping the lid before bringing it to his lips. He's in the middle of draining the bottle when Bede fishes through his bag again, pulling out a cereal bar. "What—" is all Hop manages to say before the bar is thrust into his hands, another promptly getting thrown onto his lap. "You... really came prepared, didn't you?" he says as he unwraps it. Between the getup and a bag that's evidently full of supplies, it's like Bede was prepared to be out searching for days.

Days on end, searching for him. Hop doesn't understand why anyone would care so much, but... warmth blooms in his chest anyway.

Bede sniffs. "Yes, well... it'd be a great blow to Galar's scientific community if their little up-and-coming prodigy suddenly disappeared, wouldn't it?" he says, and Hop can't suppress his snicker.

A silence stretches as they both eat, and Hop's smile slowly drops. He's... happy like this. Happy in a way he hasn't been since the festival, since he lost his mind in Bede's cottage. He doesn't want this to be what makes him happy, but... it is.

"So..." Bede breaks the silence. "How have you been?"

Hop pauses mid-bite. "How have I... been?" he echoes, and Bede responds with an indignant snort.

"Well, you haven't kept me especially updated in the last week, have you?" he says, and while a part of Hop still feels like he should push Bede away...

"Zacian slobbered all over me the other day," Hop says, a grin landing on his face at the memory. "If you think Sonia's Yamper is bad, imagine what it's like when it's a 'mon the size of a small car licking you."

Bede snickers into his palm. "An uneventful week, then," he teases, and Hop laughs, quickly looking away.

Yeah. A very uneventful week without Bede around.

"How did you... find me?" Hop eventually asks. Maybe he isn't as far off-course as he thought, though the way Bede squirms in response suggests otherwise.

"I... had a hunch, let's say," he says, his eyes drifting away towards the trees around them for some reason. "Your forest is very, very strange, you know."

Hop snorts. "Pot meet kettle," he says, returning to his second cereal bar. "At least there isn't anything here that'll try to drop your trousers," he says with a pout, then coughs. "Er. Hypothetically."

Bede gives him a sidelong glance but thankfully doesn't probe further, instead refocusing on his food. Hop happily does the same, because he's starving. It really is like they're having a picnic together.

Hop clears his throat, fingers idly ripping up a tuft of grass. "Thanks, Bede... for finding me," he says honestly. No matter how strange things have become between them, he feels indebted to Bede now.

Bede stops chewing for a moment, then swallows heavily, grabbing the wrappers and putting them into his bag. "Don't worry about it..." he says quietly, then stands, holding out a hand which Hop gladly takes. "Can you walk...?" he asks, keeping a firm grip on Hop's arm. Hop does his best to put weight on his bad foot, but immediately hisses in pain. "That's a no..." Bede says, then puts Hop's arm over his shoulders in order to support him.

They start to walk, the sun beginning to set by now, and Hop does his best to ignore how his heart is practically singing over so much prolonged contact with Bede, and also tries not to think too much about the fact that his mum is going to absolutely murder him when he gets back.

Bede leans back against the cobblestone wall surrounding Hop's house, simply watching while Hop's mother gives Hop... a rather severe scolding.

He understands. He was very much holding back when he was ranting earlier. If Hop wasn't quite literally injured, he might have booted him back down into the ditch as punishment for his crimes.

"You are never leaving this house again, young man," Hop's mother says, and Hop squeaks in response.

"N-no need for that, Mum!" he says. It's quite unbecoming for a twenty-year-old man who probably shouldn't be taking the fact that his mother is trying to ground him so seriously, in Bede's opinion.

Bede takes a deep breath from his spot on the sidelines. He's still frazzled by the whole ordeal, if he's being honest, still doesn't know what to make of the fact that the Weald itself seemed to be communicating with him. What he does know, however, is that if it hadn't, he'd have likely never found Hop.

He doesn't want to think about that too much. Hop is fine. Acting strange, yes, but alive, and right now that's all that matters in Bede's mind.

After performing such a thorough cheek-pinching that Bede thinks Hop's face might hurt even more than his ankle at this point, Hop's mother turns to Bede. "I can't thank you enough for bringing him back," she says with a small nod. "Please, come for dinner sometime next week. I'd love to meet you properly."

Bede's eyes widen in surprise. Dinner. At Hop's. To meet his family for real. The thought utterly makes his stomach churn. Not necessarily in a bad way, but... the idea is very nerve-wracking. He opens his mouth to answer, without any idea of what he's actually about to say, when Hop steps in.

"Aww, that's not necessary, Mum. Also, he's really busy, and—"

"Don't be so impolite, Hop," his mother scolds with a wiggle of her finger before turning back to Bede. "Please, I insist. He's only putting up a fight because it means he'll have to eat at the table for once," she says, and Bede shifts uncomfortably because although he's sure that last part was supposed to be a joke, he's not sure if he likes how Hop has visibly shrunken in response to it, the words having clearly struck a nerve somehow.

Bede clears his throat quietly. "I'd... I'd be honoured," he says, doing his best to sound prim and proper, but his voice wavers. Hop's mother's face immediately splits into a wide grin, and Bede thinks he understands now where Hop and Leon got their own smiles from.

"So polite! How come it took so many years for me to finally meet you?" she practically coos, Hop letting out a strangled sound as Bede just fakes a cough into his elbow.

Perhaps it'd be best if they kept that one to themselves.

The reminder that Hop never even told his own mother that he'd practically bullied him still sits uncomfortably in Bede's gut, though. Maybe he should be thankful, given Leon's... rather negative perception of him, but it still just seems wrong.

"Ah, well... Hop was right that I'm quite busy. Most of the time. And we've..." Bede looks to Hop, who raises a questioning eyebrow towards him. "Become quite close recently..."

Hop chokes, turning away, and Bede thinks he would try to run away if, well... he physically could.

"I'm glad!" Hop's mother beams. "He could use some more good influences in his life, hmm?" she says, giving Hop a chastising look, and Hop just huffs and looks away.

Bede frowns. Hop may be impulsive and an utter fool at times, but he's also kind, incredibly hard-working, and one of the most determined people Bede has ever met. He doesn't need 'good influences', as he's a strong role model in his own right, in Bede's eyes.

But Bede clamps his mouth shut, choosing not to say any of it. "Well... I'm happy to be his friend," he instead says lamely.

Maybe he's just... misinterpreting things.

Hop's mother's smile returns. "I appreciate it, and thank you again for bringing him back." She gives a firm nod. "Is next Friday okay for dinner?"

Bede hesitates, having quickly forgotten about that part. He looks to Hop to check with him first, but he seems to be avoiding eye contact, staying completely silent. "Friday... would be fine, I believe," he eventually says quietly, and Hop's mother clasps her hands together.

"Perfect! I'll see you then, okay?" she says, giving Hop one final pinch on his cheek before walking into the house.

Once his mother is gone, Hop sighs, slumping back against the wall before flashing Bede a half-hearted grin. "Sorry... she can be a lot," he says, eyes darting towards the doorway as if checking if she heard, before hopping over on a single leg and closing it.

Bede just nods dumbly. He's not sure if that's the wording he'd use, but perhaps it'd be best if he stayed out of what are clearly family matters. "You're... okay with this?" he probes, since Hop hadn't seemed enthusiastic when it was first brought up.

To Bede's surprise, he does see a bit of hesitation flash across Hop's face. "It's... it's fine. Just don't think it'll be that much of a fun time for you," he says, and while Bede feels like the words are honest, he also has a feeling it isn't the full picture.

"I won't come if you don't want me to—"

"It's fine, it's fine. Really!" Hop insists, and there's the grin Bede had expected in the first place, the one that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Mum already loves you, so there shouldn't be any problems."

Bede can't mask the suspicion in his eyes, but bites his tongue. It's none of his business. What does he know about families anyway? He's... never really had one. Not a real one, at least.

"Then... I'll see you soon?" Bede says, and it's very much a question since Hop spent the last week ignoring him.

He doesn't want things to just go back to the way they were.

Hop's eyes widen, surely realising the unspoken meaning, and then his lips quirk upward tentatively. "Yeah... I'll- I'll text you later, okay?" His hand goes to his pocket as if to pull out his phone for emphasis before realising that he doesn't have it, scratching the back of his neck bashfully.

Cute.

Bede clears his throat, dispelling that thought into the shadow realm. "You'd better," he warns, but there's no real heat in it, and turns, giving Hop a small wave. "Goodbye, Hop."

"Bye, Bede!" Hop says, giving a bigger, far more enthusiastic wave. It seems that he's feeling better, at least. Bede just huffs, giving one last, slightly more energetic wave before beginning to make his way to Wedgehurst for a cab.

Once he's back home in Ballonlea, Bede slumps onto the sofa he'd spent the morning having a self-absorbed mental breakdown on. His phone, which he'd gripped tightly the entire journey back, finally vibrates in his hand, and he lets out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

He opens up his messages to see a photo of Hop, barely visible in the pile of all of his pokémon surrounding him.

"Night Bede! Going to bed early after today's ordeal. or at least I'm trying to. bit stuck. send help."

Bede snickers into his palm, sending a quick "suffer" before hovering his thumb over the option to save the photo, cheeks flushing crimson as he clicks it and promptly picks up a cushion, jams it into his face, and screams.

He's hopeless.

His cheeks flush deeply when he thinks back to their hug because what the bloody hell has gotten into him? He doesn't hug people. He doesn't even really like to be hugged himself!

Okay, maybe he does a bit. But he has an image to uphold. An image of-, of...

Bede huffs. Whatever. He's just glad that Hop isn't ghosting him anymore, even if he still has no idea what actually happened to cause it in the first place.

He lowers the cushion, only to see Opal standing in the doorway to her bedroom, staring straight at him. A venomous comment bubbles in his throat, embarrassed at getting caught acting so childishly, but then he huffs, a small smile landing on his face. "Everything is fine," he says, and Opal lets out a pleased-sounding 'hmph' in response.

"Of course it is. You had nothing to worry about," she says, and Bede just rolls his eyes because the old hag is right, as always.

He has nothing to worry about.

"I think I need to workshop some nicknames for you."

The vein in Bede's forehead twitches, and he turns to Raihan, splayed out on his bed as if he owns the place.

"I'd rather you didn't," he says simply as he busies himself with taking out some clothes, because giving him any more of a reaction would probably only encourage him.

Raihan, entirely undeterred, barrels on. "It's like... with Hop, it's easy. Hoppip, Hopscotch, Hiphop, my favourite." He whispers the last part as if it's a secret. "But you? Bede. Bedey. Bedey Boo—"

"Shut the fuck up and help me pick an outfit," Bede hisses. He generally prefers to avoid such... language, but he doesn't think he's ever run out of patience with something so quickly in his entire life. Raihan sighs, sounding far too disappointed considering that he should have known that this conversation was an utter non-starter in the first place.

"Ditch the waistcoat for starters," Raihan quickly says, pointing to the sharp, newly bought, white waistcoat hung up on the door of his wardrobe. "You're going to a family dinner, not the Rose of the Rondelands," he says, and Bede huffs. He knows that it's far too formal, but he thinks a part of him was looking for an excuse to wear it.

"You must admit that it's nice, though..." Bede says quietly as he puts it away, his disappointment obvious.

"Oh, yeah, absolutely stunning, don't get me wrong. Just way too fancy," Raihan says, before getting a gleam in his eye. "Would be perfect if we were to do another photoshoot together, y'know..."

Bede snorts. "Don't push your luck. That was a one-off." It had been rather enjoyable, if he's being deathly honest, but Raihan is going to have to put some work in if he really wants him to do it again.

Raihan whines as he throws himself back onto Bede's bed. Like a baby.

Bede sighs as he looks over the remaining options, a growing knot in his stomach. Loath as he is to admit it, he's nervous. He and Hop may be on good terms now, but the fact has done little to soothe his view of the place as a Seviper nest.

"Both of those jumpers are the exact same," Raihan says, now peering over Bede's shoulder like a nosy Boltund. Bede's eyes narrow, an incredulous look on his face.

"One is lace pink and the other is blush pink. Idiot," he says with a sniff. Obviously there's a difference.

He's not entirely sure which is which, though.

Bede throws on the lace? pink one over his dress shirt and looks to the mirror, Raihan letting out a low whistle. "Looking good, Bedeebee!" he chirps, promptly getting a book launched at his head. He squawks as he narrowly dodges it. "Okay, okay, I told you, we'll workshop it!"

"You'll cut it out now if you want to make it back to your castle alive," Bede warns, striding over to pick up the book. He dusts it off, frowning when he realises that his bookmark fell out. Which is definitely Raihan's fault for making him throw it.

He puts the book back to its usual spot (vaguely thrown on top of his dresser) and lets out a huff, the unpleasant feeling in his stomach bubbling up again. "Any... final advice?" he asks, continuing before Raihan can open his mouth. "Practical advice, I mean. If you tell me to just smash it—"

"When have I ever given you bad advice, huh?" Raihan interrupts with a toothy grin, and Bede sticks out his lower lip because the answer is, unfortunately, never. As annoying as Raihan can be, he's been quite the guiding hand over the years. "Just... maybe try to keep your head down, yeah?" Raihan eventually says quietly, a grimace having landed on his face.

Bede scowls. He'd been planning on doing that anyway, though he's not sure what experience Raihan of all people has with keeping his head down. "Care to elaborate?"

Raihan runs a hand down his face. "They can be a little... difficult. Might piss you off a little. When I first met them, Lee told me to just grit through it, so... I guess I'm passing that advice on to you."

Bede shifts uncomfortably. He supposes that's probably par for the course with a family dinner, from what he's seen on TV, but the words are doing little for him other than making his anxiety worse. "I'm not particularly good at keeping my mouth shut, you know," he murmurs.

Raihan just snorts. "Neither am I! A fact I'm sure you're intimately familiar with," he says with a wink, and Bede silently agrees. He's very familiar with Raihan's inability to shut up. "If I can manage it, so can you! So just pop to Postwick, and I promise you'll smash it—"

"That's it, out! Out, out, out!" Bede physically pushes Raihan out of his room, through the cottage and out the door, receiving little resistance as Raihan snickers away. "Go back home and guard your hoard, dragon-man," he says once Raihan is outside.

Raihan whines. "How come you get to call me by a nickname—" is all he manages to say before getting the door slammed in his face.

Bede's nails scrape against the door as he clenches his fist, huffing and begrudgingly opening up the door again. Raihan is still stood where he was, beaming at him in a way that makes it clear he knew Bede wouldn't leave things there.

"Goodbye," Bede says begrudgingly. "And... thank you for the help," he adds, hoping he sounds earnest enough, but not too earnest.

Raihan's smile widens massively, and he puffs himself up proudly, which means he was definitely too earnest.

"Bye, Bede! Lemme know how it goes!" Raihan says with a big wave and heads off, surely to take a Flying Taxi home. Raihan tried to train in the Tangle once, and it's a mistake Bede doubts he'll ever make again, given that he's the one who had to go save him.

Seems he has a knack for saving hopeless idiots lost in forests.

After a few more minutes of freshening himself up, Bede locks the door behind him. His steps are slow as he makes his way to Ballonlea's square, well aware that all his languid pace is doing is delaying the inevitable, and that if he keeps it up much longer, he'll end up late.

With a few steadying breaths, Bede boards the taxi, choosing to blame his shortness of breath and the unease in his stomach on a newfound fear of heights.

Bede's foot catches on the cab's treads as he steps out, almost faceplanting onto the cobblestone of Wedgehurst's streets. His ears burn as he looks around, glad that he didn't just give some paparazzi the photo of the century by looking anything less than dignified.

His legs are wobbly as he begins the walk to Postwick, silently wishing that the taxi driver had just dropped him directly through Hop's roof because the unpleasant feeling in his gut is only worsening with each step he takes, a feeling he wants to call anxiety, but could probably be more accurately described as utter, paralysing dread.

He pauses briefly, hand grasping onto a lamppost for support as he takes a few deep breaths to ground himself.

What does he have to worry about? It's just dinner. Dinner with the family of the boy he bullied, whom he is now utterly smitten with. Dinner with a family who is apparently difficult enough for Hop to barely ever talk about them, difficult enough that Raihan considered it necessary to warn him of them. Dinner where he'll have to spend several hours being polite and not at all abrasive—both things he always has and likely always will be terrible at doing.

He feels sick.

And on top of everything, he doesn't even know where his relationship with Hop stands anymore. They've returned to their usual texting, but there's a tentativeness there, a new distance that Bede isn't sure if he's imagining or not.

Butterfree swarm in his stomach when he realises that, at some point, he must have started walking again, that he's already in Postwick, quickly spotting Hop's house and the conspicuous head of purple hair sitting on the cobblestone wall in front of it.

Hop looks up from his phone, and gives a small wave. Bede swallows. Too late to back out now. As he gets closer, he sees that Hop is wearing a light-blue button-up and a pair of jeans—fancier than he would usually wear.

He looks... nice, Bede thinks, and he's about to very generously comment as such when Hop whistles, motioning with a single finger for him to turn back around.

"Mum forgot to buy some stuff, so we're off to the supermarket," he says as he puts his phone into his pocket, and Bede immediately scowls.

"Do not whistle at me like I'm some Yamper to be commanded," he says with crossed arms before leering. "And why exactly should I follow you on your little errand?" he adds, well aware that he's already being difficult, but he has to cope with his frayed nerves somehow.

Hop snorts. "You don't have to. You can go in and meet my family on your own if you'd prefer?" he says with an innocent smile, which manages to drag an even deeper scowl from Bede.

"That's beside the point. Ask me nicely," he says, turning up his nose snootily. His presence is something to be respected, to be treasured. Not expected.

But Hop's eyes just twinkle with mischief, and he brings a dramatic hand to his forehead. "Oh, pretty please, would the great Fairy Prince of Ballonlea do me the honour of accompanying me on my journey to procure berries for tonight's grand banquet?" he says, the only crack in the act being the single eye peeking towards Bede, checking his reaction.

"Don't," Bede chokes out, suppressing the urge to physically retch. "And stop reading those bloody gossip rags," he adds with an accusing finger in Hop's direction. They're the only things that talk about him in such a lamebrained manner.

Not that he's read them or anything.

"Guilty," Hop says with his hands up in surrender. "Blame Sonia," he adds as he starts to walk, Bede begrudgingly following along. "She always leaves them lying around the lab, and some days are so boring that I resort to reading them. Need to do something or I'll blow up."

"A convenient excuse, I'm sure," Bede replies dryly with a sniff. He'd rather Hop's mind not be filled with the utter tripe those self-proclaimed journalists put to print.

A sense of quiet takes over them as they walk back along Route One, not that Bede was conscious for it the first time.

It's... pleasant, despite the impending doom rapidly approaching. For a while now, Hop has been a soothing presence, a ray of sunshine on an otherwise cloudy day.

Once they're in Wedgehurst, Bede remembers Hop's injury, looking down to his ankle. He's clearly still favouring the other foot, but he is at least capable of walking without support now. "Your ankle is healing well, then?" he comments idly, as if Hop hasn't kept him updated the entire time.

Hop hums. "Told you it weren't anything too bad. Another week and I'll be right as rain," he says with a sunny grin, then his eyes drift upwards. "Speaking of rain... s'gonna rain soon," he says, and Bede hums in quiet agreement, his own eyes looking up to the mostly clear sky. It doesn't look like it's going to rain, but there's an undeniable feeling of it in the air.

The supermarket doors slide open, and Hop visibly shivers as they enter, his teeth beginning to chatter. Bede can't suppress a snicker at the sight.

"You don't know what to do with yourself without that jacket of yours, do you?" he says. How Hop manages to keep that thing on in the depths of summer is beyond him.

Hop whines. "Ain't right without it. I'm like a Farfetch'd without a leek," he says glumly, as if it's the worst thing that's ever happened to him. Which is quite ridiculous considering that he's faced down a giant, evil (not evil, Gloria insists) space dragon that almost caused the apocalypse. Bede just shakes his head at him as they enter the berry aisle.

Things seem... okay between them. Less strange than before, at least, but Bede can't help but feel like there's something unresolved between them, still has no idea what actually happened to prompt Hop to ghost him for so long. He wants to ask, wants to demand an explanation for Hop's strange behaviour, but every time he tries to build up the courage, the words die in his throat, or he deletes the message before he can send it.

Bede lets out a soft exhale. Things are fine now. No point in stirring the pot. Whatever it is, Hop likely sorted it out on his own, and if he doesn't want to talk about it, then it's none of his business.

"Is it just berries we need?" Bede eventually asks, looking to fill the silence more than anything, and Hop hums idly as he looks at the package of berries in his hands.

"That, and some coconut milk," he says, and it leaves Bede wondering if Hop's mother managed to get anything ready in time. Hop brings the packaging closer to his face, eyes squinting as he mumbles. "Bloody hell, why do they make the writing so small?"

Bede side-eyes Hop before looking to the box in his hands. It's... quite easy to read, even at a glance. "Do you need your eyes checked?" he says, and said eyes immediately widen in horror.

"Nope!" Hop quickly says with a passionate shake of his head, but his hands come up to his eyes anyway, as if he might somehow feel a discrepancy. "I've spent far too many years making fun of Sonia for being as blind as a Zubat to end up wearing specs now."

Bede rolls his eyes. "Get them checked at least, you nitwit. And wear contacts if you don't want to look like a Hoothoot," he says, ignoring the whine that Hop lets out.

Hop silently begins to pick out the necessary berries, and Bede raises an eyebrow. "No Pinap berries?" he questions. Gloria was quite insistent before that they're Hop's favourite, and Bede will feel quite the fool if that isn't true, especially after the fuss he made to make sure that every single drink stall at the festival had at least something Pinap berry flavoured available.

"Nah. Gramps ain't fussed on them," Hop says simply, though his eyes flicker over to the Pinap berries on the shelf, his disappointment clear even though he's trying to suppress it.

"Get them," Bede insists firmly. "Worst case scenario, your mother won't use them and you can just eat them yourself," he says, and Hop chews the inside of his cheek for a moment, then brightens again as he grabs the package.

"It's like I'm buying myself a present!" he chirps, as if the idea of buying something for himself is a foreign concept to him, and Bede is mortified by the possibility that it actually might be. Just about the first thing Bede did once he had any semblance of financial independence was buy himself a small treat, and he's become quite the consistent purveyor of goods at Ballonlea's bakery over the years.

A life without the occasional indulgence is a miserable one, in Bede's mind.

Bede ultimately decides to hold his tongue and not tell Hop that his life seems miserable on their way to the tills, his eyes briefly drifting to a pink packet of sweets on one of the shelves before remembering that they're going to be eating dinner soon, and begrudgingly deciding against it.

With one final, longing glance to the sweets aisle, Bede follows Hop out of the shop, his anxiety bubbling up once again as they start the walk back to Postwick. "Anything I should know before..." he trails off quietly, fingers twitching.

Hop turns his head and lets out a small snort. "S'not like you to get nervous," he teases with a smirk, though there's a faint glimpse of concern in his eyes.

Bede glares at him. "I am human, something I'd hope that you're aware of. And are you forgetting the last time I was inside your house?" he says pointedly, because that was an utter disaster. He was quivering in Hop's bedroom like a startled Stunfisk, something which Hop very tragically witnessed.

Though, then again, it was the first breakthrough between the two of them, so Bede can't find himself regretting the... brief moment of weakness on his part.

Hop winces slightly, then softens. "You've got nothing to worry about," he says simply, his expression maybe a little guilty. "I'd be stressed if I was having dinner at your house as well, so I get it."

Bede just hums absently. Is that it? Raihan had actively warned him that they're off in some capacity, but Hop seems to be brushing his worries off. The mixed signals are doing little to soothe him.

"Mum's a good cook," Hop continues, dragging Bede from his thoughts. Which is good, because he's rather not be thinking them right now. "She's not Vic good, but you'll be well-fed. Promise!"

The mention of Victor immediately catches Bede's attention, because that topic has solidly been in the unmentionable group of possible conversation topics ever since Gloria told him that something had happened between them. Bede clears his throat as he builds up his courage. "You and Victor..." he starts, eyes focused intently on Hop's face for the faintest bit of something. "How are the two of you these days?"

Hop waves him off dismissively, the motion so casual that Bede is almost convinced that he isn't actually bothered. "You know how things are," he says, even though Bede decidedly does not. "Sometimes you drift apart from people. M'sure he's having a great time in the Crown Tundra, or... wherever he is now," he finishes quietly.

Bede's brow furrows. Drifting apart? That's not the story he heard. "Hop—"

"Oi, let's get a move on, yeah? Mum ain't gonna wait forever," Hop says, turning around with a bright grin. "Race you to my house!" he says, and immediately takes off running.

For a brief, fleeting moment, Bede almost breaks into a run himself, but his feet instead stay planted as he watches Hop run away. Because that's exactly what he's doing.

Running away.

They may not have truly known each other for long, but Bede has borne witness to this countless times by now, and he's sick of it.

He huffs to himself as he walks along the path, slightly faster than he'd like. He supposes it's hypocritical of him to judge Hop for being unwilling to talk about things. He's sure the League's therapist would have quit countless times over by now if she were allowed to.

Hop is waiting in the open doorway of his house when Bede finally arrives. "Cheer up, yeah, Slowpoke?" he says, and Bede realises he must be pulling some sort of face. "You'll be fine," he adds with a supportive tap on Bede's arm, and then walks into the house.

Bede hesitates, looking back behind him, a part of him genuinely considering leaving while he has any sort of chance. Make up some story about an emergency, say that Opal needs him, that there's been an incident at the gym, anything.

In the end, he sighs, and walks forward.

Sound immediately surrounds Bede, chatter coming from each direction, the din of what sounds like a battle playing on the TV in the room to his right. Hop's house is clearly far more lively than his own, even when there isn't a big barbeque going on.

Bede isn't sure he could live in an environment like this. Days spent in his and Opal's cottage are often quiet, as long as Hatterene is behaving. Neither of them even enjoy having the TV volume very high when they're watching the awful reality shows they both hate, and all of the racket here reminds him of his time in the orphanage more than anything.

He dispels those memories to the back of his mind, and begins to move to the kitchen, choosing to follow the voices of Hop and his mother rather than the less familiar ones in the living room. The smell of sizzling meat immediately hits his nose as he enters, Hop's mother hard at work. Seems she had enough ingredients to start cooking, at least.

Bede mentally slaps himself. He needs to stop being so rude; doesn't know why the more unsavoury parts of his personality seem to blossom the most when he's stressed.

He spots Hop bent over, placing something in the fridge—the Pinap berries surely, given that the rest are all sitting out on the counter. "Better luck next time, eh?" Hop says with a self-deprecating smile.

Hop's mother shakes her head at him. "I keep telling him it's not traditional," she says, before leaning in and planting a kiss on Bede's cheek—a move he had not been expecting. "It's good to see my son's saviour," she says with a wide smile.

"It's... nice to see you as well," Bede says lamely, coughing into his elbow as he tries to hide the burn of his cheeks. His eyes drift to Hop, a slightly dejected expression on his face as he purses his lips. It looks like he might have had more of a scolding than Bede thought, though for what, he doesn't know. Bede clears his throat. "If it isn't too much trouble... I really do quite like Pinap berries," he attempts, because it's the least he can do. "I don't want to make a fuss, but—"

"You should have just said so!" Hop's mother quickly says with a wave of her hand, already making a move towards the fridge. One hand grabs the berries while the other pinches Hop's cheek. "No more drama tonight, young man. You could have just told me you bought these for Bede!"

"Yes, Mum..." Hop says quietly once she lets go, rubbing his cheek. Once his mother returns to preparing the curry, he walks over to Bede and leans against the wall. "Sneaky," he says, but his expression is thankful, if maybe a bit embarrassed over the fuss.

Bede shrugs. "Old news by now, I'm sure," he says, trying to seem nonchalant, but he's sure the tension in his body is obvious. He's supposed to be lying low for the night, not lying to people's faces. He makes a mental note to keep his head down from now on.

An elbow nudges into his side. "C'mon. My grandparents are in the living room," Hop says, and Bede immediately balks. First impressions have never been his forte, and his experience with older people is quite the fifty-fifty, between Opal and the hags at the orphanage.

Hop's expression softens. "Don't worry! They'll love you, promise," he says, and Bede purses his lips, suspicion starting to fill his mind as he catches the twinkle of something in Hop's eyes, the words feeling loaded in a way that he can't even begin to piece together.

As they walk into the room, Bede practically uses Hop as a human shield to hide himself for as long as possible—perhaps the only time he's been glad that Hop is ever so slightly taller than he is.

Hop suddenly sidesteps out of the way (a betrayal Bede will not forget) and points both hands towards him like a gameshow host showing off a grand prize. "Gran, Gramps, this is Bede!" he chirps, and two pairs of eyes immediately shoot towards him, both of them looking positively starstruck.

"Well, if it isn't the Champion's greatest rival!" Hop's grandfather says, genuine joy in his voice as he holds out a hand for Bede to shake. Bede hesitantly takes it, his grip nowhere near as strong as the one he receives. "It's an honour to finally meet you!"

Bede's hands instinctively drift up to play with the collar of his shirt, having been completely caught off guard by the reaction he's received. This already feels more like a post-match meet-and-greet than a meet-the-family situation. "It's... a pleasure to meet you both as well," he says with a small bow, doing his best not to physically wince over how wooden he must sound.

"So formal!" Hop's grandmother exclaims with a hand to her chest while Hop snickers into a palm, clearly relishing in how uncomfortable of a situation it is. "Nothing like on the TV," she adds, receiving a hum and a few firm nods of agreement from Hop's grandfather in return.

Bede squirms in place. Is that a bad thing? He does quite enjoy playing the heel during official battles, and it's a persona he usually keeps up in the presence of fans, but it feels a bit difficult to keep up in a situation like this.

"Come, come, sit!" Hop's grandfather insists, and Bede hesitantly takes a seat on the sofa across from him. Hop sits next to his grandfather, sending him a look that screams I told you so, and Bede fixes him with a half-hearted glare in response.

Thankfully, Hop's family are evidently all as talkative as he is, so they largely dominate the conversation from there, Bede only really speaking up when addressed. Though he doesn't find himself listening especially hard as he takes in the room around him.

Three massive trophies sit atop the mantlepiece, the centre one so large that it commands the entire room. Leon's first Champion Cup trophy, surely, based on the similarities he sees to Gloria's own.

Garish, in Bede's opinion.

He understands the pride, since Leon's accomplishments were unparalleled until Gloria came on the scene. It doesn't excuse unappealing interior design, however, and his eyes have trouble focusing anywhere else.

Perhaps that's the point.

A sense of unease starts to settle within Bede as he starts to slowly absorb the room, practically plastered in nothing but Leon. One of his old matches against Raihan is playing quietly on the TV, and the tapes loosely stacked on the stand suggest that it isn't the first of the day. Where Bede expects family photos, he sees headshots of Leon, little genuine joy to be found within. His eyes drift to the cabinet to his left, to the books that all seem to be biographies of Leon's career. At least the decorative plates aren't—no, never mind, they're awards of his as well.

It takes Bede an entire minute of searching, now completely ignoring the conversation around him, for him to find even a trace of what has been a deeply conspicuous absence so far—a photo of a younger Leon, doing his stupid signature pose, while a tiny Hop, practically a toddler, beams up at him.

A frown splits Bede's face. He could chalk it up to old décor, tell himself that the house has simply remained unchanged for a long time, photos included. Even the newest photos of Leon still seem several years old. But then he thinks back to Hop's bedroom, the only room in the house he'd paid any attention to the last time he was here, and how Leon's presence felt all-encompassing even there, the room filled with more Leon posters, merch, and memorabilia than anything Bede would consider to be Hop's own. Everything in this house seems to be deeply focused on an individual who isn't even here for this family dinner.

It all seems wrong, in Bede's mind.

"And what do you think, young man?"

Bede startles, Hop's grandfather chuckling in a way that makes it abundantly clear that he's been caught not paying attention. "We were talking about how Hop here defeated you in a battle," he explains.

Ah. That.

"Indeed," Bede says as he checks his nails, avoiding eye contact because the old man's gaze feels intense. "He was... very impressive," he adds honestly. As unofficial of a match as it was, it was intriguing to finally experience Hop's unique battle style first-hand.

"It is impressive!" Hop's grandfather agrees. "For Hop to have defeated such a powerful trainer, the Champion's greatest rival no less, is very impressive indeed." He slaps his hand onto Hop's back, causing Hop to jump. "That's why I think Hop should get into competitive battling again! Don't you agree?"

Bede blinks, feeling like he's just been led into a trap of some sort, tricked into suggesting something he didn't mean. While Bede is glad that Hop has recently rediscovered the joy of battling, he's also made his opinion of professional battling quite clear—he isn't interested.

"Just because—"

"Look, Gramps!" Hop interrupts, and a part of Bede is glad because he's not sure if what nearly came out of his mouth was going to be especially tactful. "I'll think about it, okay?" he says, a convincingly bright smile on his face, though his voice wavers almost imperceptibly.

Hop's grandfather just harumphs and crosses his arms, clearly choosing to drop the topic, the look in his eyes making it clear that it's only for now, that it's only a matter of time before he attempts again. Bede's mouth opens for a moment, considering hammering the point home before remembering Raihan's advice and clamping his mouth shut again.

Best not to get involved.

Bede does his best from then on to at least half-listen to any further conversation so that he doesn't make a fool of himself again, as increasingly frazzled as he's becoming.

But after several minutes like that, Bede realises how quiet Hop has gotten, how his smile has dropped, his eyes now firmly locked to the coffee table between them. Bede's fingers hesitate briefly, before fishing in his pocket for his Rotom phone.

"O-oh, look! Marnie is calling me," he lies as he shakes his phone for emphasis, his heartbeat quickening at his own audacity. "I need... backup," he adds lamely, putting on a pleading expression and directing it towards Hop, and what he wants more than anything is for Eternatus's laser to wipe him from the face of the earth because what is he saying? That's the best excuse he could manage?

And yet, somehow, they fall for it. Hop's grandfather laughs, laying a hand on his belly. "She's got some real fire, that one! Best go with him, eh?" he says to Hop with a wink.

"What—"

"Let's go," is all Bede says before grasping Hop's wrist and pulling him out of the room, happy to remove them both from the situation. Hop's mother is too preoccupied with her cooking to notice them both slip through the kitchen and out the back door, and Bede only releases his grip once they're outside.

A soft thump sounds out as Bede practically collapses onto the edge of the decking, letting out a heavy exhale. So much for laying low. His heart is hammering in his chest, and he looks up to Hop, whose brows are still knit in confusion.

"You... looked like you could use some air," Bede explains quietly, and Hop snorts, plopping himself next to Bede.

"You look like you could use it more than me," he teases, with little evidence of what Bede saw back in the house on his face. Bede just huffs. Maybe now he does, but Hop looked as if he was drowning in there, as unlikely as it is that he'll be able to get him to admit such a thing.

Because Hop is difficult. Because Hop is very adept at not talking about things he doesn't want to. Because Hop clearly has far more going on behind those eyes than he seems to want people to know.

The chirps of distant Blipbug pierce through the otherwise quiet evening, and Bede's gaze drifts ahead to the Wooloo flock falling asleep on the hill, a pair of Dubwool still attentively on the lookout. The sun is starting to fall below the horizon, and darkness is starting to creep in.

The wind picks up for a moment, surprisingly cold, a tell-tale sign of summer turning to autumn, its approach clear in the air already.

It isn't raining just yet, though.

Hop bumps shoulders with his, and when Bede turns his head, Hop's grin is tinged with mischief. "Told you they'd love you."

Bede's lower lip sticks out indignantly. "I seem to have missed the subtext where you told me they were fans," he says, and Hop snorts, though he does at least have the decency to wince slightly.

"Sorry, mate. They can be a bit... intense, sometimes," he says, and Bede doesn't understand why he's the one receiving an apology right now.

"I'd argue they were far more intense with you. Your grandfather, at least," Bede says pointedly. Frankly, he doesn't understand it. Opal has never pushed him to be anything other than himself, and although he spent many of his first years as Gym Leader wishing he had a stronger guiding hand, he understands now why she did things the way she did.

The hum Hop lets out is weak as he returns to looking ahead. "S'not a big deal," he says, and although he keeps his gaze trained forward, he can surely feel how Bede's eyes bore into him in response to his unconvincing words. Hop's shoulders droop, and he sighs. "I love them all to bits, I really do, but... Gramps doesn't always... get me."

The words feel like an understatement, and it's abundantly clear to Bede that he bore witness to a common occurrence. "That sounds like a big deal to me," he says, and Hop just snorts in response.

"Maybe..." is all he says, and Bede gets the impression that that's all he's going to get from him, given how Hop's eyes have returned to the hill.

Bitterness swirls inside Bede's gut. Is it truly so difficult to just listen to your grandson when he says he isn't interested in something? At what point is it an utterly unacceptable amount of ignorance? Who else should be your biggest supporters, if not your own family? Especially when...

Especially when there's so much to be proud of.

He doesn't know exactly when he started to think that Hop deserves the world, but he does, and the thought makes his heart race. Bede leans his face into his palm as he ruminates on such a revelation, until his thoughts are interrupted by Hop's voice, barely audible even in the quiet evening.

"They're... not very interested in me becoming a professor."

The words startle Bede, partly because he hadn't expected Hop to continue talking, had expected him to brush such a thing off as he always does, but also because of the sheer overwhelming melancholy he hears in Hop's voice.

Hop lets out a small, bitter-sounding laugh and runs a hand through his hair. "They've never thought of me losing in the Gym Challenge as a failure, but... I think they've always been disappointed in me for switching tracks," he says, his body now tilted away from Bede. "I keep telling them I'm happy doing what I'm doing, but..." he trails off.

Bede swallows hard. He doesn't know what to do, has never been in a situation like this before. As much comfort as he's received from his loved ones over the years, he's not sure if he's ever been sought out for comfort himself. Why would they? He's cold. He's harsh. He's... deeply incapable of helping people.

The thought sits uncomfortably in his gut.

"I just... wish they'd be more proud of me, y'know?" Hop eventually says breathlessly. "I know I'm not living my life the way they originally planned, but I'm trying. I try so hard every bloody day, and all anyone here seems to care about is if I'm going back to chasing a dream I've already given up on!" He throws his arms up into the air in frustration, before suddenly curling in on himself, fists clenched. He lets out a heavy exhale, and rubs at his eyes. "Sorry, just ignore me, I'm—"

"Don't apologise," Bede says firmly, finally finding some semblance of courage. "It's unreasonable of them to pressure you like that. I know..." The words catch in his throat, the train of thought still raw in his mind. He takes a breath to compose himself. "I know what it's like... to put so much stock into the approval of others." He looks to the ground, countless humiliating memories flooding his mind of him sucking up to Rose, of him publicly debasing himself for Rose, of all of the tears he's shed over Rose.

And it was all for naught.

Bede sniffs. "You shouldn't let people like that rule over your life," he says. The words feel harsh to say when all Hop wants is his family's support, but Bede firmly believes them to be true. It's a lesson he's long learned by now, thanks to Opal's guidance. "You shouldn't let anyone rule over your life," he says more resolutely. "You should do what makes you happy, not what anyone else might expect of you."

Hop just stays silent, continuing to look away for a long, long while. Several minutes pass as they sit side-by-side, but Bede has no intent on moving, because he's sick of being a spectator to other people's problems.

And maybe a part of him is slowly realising that the two of them are more alike than he ever knew. Maybe he wants Hop to hear all the things he wishes he could go back in time and tell himself.

Hop sniffles, and Bede freezes when he realises that he must be crying. "M'not sure... if it even does make me happy sometimes," he eventually says, so quiet that Bede isn't entirely sure he heard correctly. "Sometimes I think—"

A hand raps harshly against the door behind them.

"Dinner's almost ready, you two!" Hop's mother shouts as she opens the door, shaking her head at them. "Honestly, I was looking all over for you! You're both quite sneaky to have got through the kitchen without me seeing," she says with a wiggle of her finger, and then returns to the kitchen.

Once the door closes again, Bede lets out a harsh exhale from his nose, his frustration intensifying when he sees that Hop has clamped back up again, his only chance of getting something out of Hop dissipating in front of his very eyes. Neither of them make a move for a moment, until Hop suddenly stands. "Come on, mate... final stretch, yeah?"

"Hop—"

"Don't worry about it, yeah?" Hop interrupts, the only evidence of the conversation they just had being the weariness of the smile on his face as he turns away and walks back into the house.

And it's in that moment, that Bede decides he doesn't much like Hop's family.

He deserves better.

Bede's gaze is wary as he takes his seat at the dining table. If he thought he was in a Seviper nest before, he feels like he's in a Dynamax Den filled with Copperajah now.

Rain pitter-patters gently against the windows as they get to eating. The food tastes bland and unappetising on Bede's palate, only occasionally bringing the spoon to his mouth so as to not draw attention to himself.

"Did you hear Leon plans to renovate the Battle Tower again?" Hop's mother asks conversationally to the table, and Hop's grandfather laughs loudly in response.

"Always pushing himself further, that one! We're all very proud of Leon in this household," he says as he looks to Bede, as if the fact isn't abundantly, blatantly obvious by now. "Champion at fourteen and now running the most prestigious battle facility in the region. And the entire world, if you ask me," he adds with an over-the-top wink.

Bede squirms in his seat because Hop's grandfather is looking to him for some sort of comment. "Yes... it's all very impressive," he says lamely. If he's being honest, he's quite unfamiliar with the place. Perhaps he'd be more willing to use it if it weren't run by a protective older brother who still hates his guts.

"Ha! Impressive, indeed," Hop's grandfather says, his hand coming up to play with his moustache. "Not that you're any less impressive! I have the utmost respect for the Gym Leaders. Always pushing themselves to new strengths, yourself most of all!"

Heat fills Bede's cheeks. He may not especially like the man, but he's never been good at accepting compliments, no matter who they're from. "I appreciate your words, but..." He looks to Hop, who looks completely checked out of the conversation as he picks at his food, and a sense of resolve starts to pump through Bede's veins. "Hop is very impressive as well, in my opinion," he insists with a nod in his direction. "He's working very hard to become a pokémon professor."

Hop jolts the second he hears his name, but his grandfather speaks up before he does. "Of course he is!" he insists. "I have no doubt that Hop is a hard-working individual. Far from it, in fact. I just think he's wasting his potential, that's all!" he then says, completely casual, as if the words aren't utterly horrid.

"I don't think he's wasting anything," Bede insists firmly. "He's known as one of the most talented up-and-comers in Galar's scientific community." A fact that he's heard plenty of times with Sonia. "And practically a prodigy with pokémon." A fact he's seen with his very own eyes.

Hop's grandfather just laughs jovially in a way that leaves Bede questioning if he's even listening to him. "Of course! And we're very proud of him for that!" he says, and Bede doesn't hear much pride in his tone, the words feeling almost patronising. "But I just don't understand why you gave up on battling completely!" he continues as he looks to Hop. "You're clearly a strong trainer even now, especially since you managed to beat young Bede here. No offence, son."

"None taken," Bede grits out. None for himself, at least.

"I heard Kabu is looking for a replacement," Hop's mother interjects, and how that piece of gossip managed to reach her is beyond Bede, given that he was under the impression that that was still under wraps.

"Perfect!" Hop's grandfather says. "With that Cinderace of yours, you'll be a shoo-in!"

Hop's face cracks just the smallest amount before he fixes it, a small smile on his face. "S'alright, Gramps. I'm busy with uni, and—"

"Bah!" Hop's grandfather's nose curls in displeasure. "It isn't like Sonia is going to be retiring anytime soon. Why waste all of this time just to become a professor's assistant?"

"I'll be an assistant professor—"

"Same thing!" Hop's grandfather insists. "I just think you're stagnating. How come you don't look up to Leon anymore, eh? You used to think of him like a superhero!"

Bede's teeth clamp down on his tongue because all he's seen and heard since he's entered this house is Leon this and Leon that—a most baffling fact when the actual most admirable person in their family is sitting directly underneath their noses.

"I still do..." Hop murmurs quietly, clearly wanting no part in the argument anymore as he pointedly avoids eye contact, instead staring down at the food he isn't eating.

"Now, now, Dad, that's enough," Hop's mother says, finally speaking up. "We all know Hop marches to the beat of his own drum these days. Nothing we can do about that!" she adds, and the table laughs.

And Bede feels sick at the sight, at the fact that his own words have clearly fallen on deaf ears as Hop continues to be practically berated, his own mother not even truly speaking in his defence.

So much of his original vitriol towards Hop was driven by jealousy more than anything. Jealous that he had a home to go back to, jealous of his prestigious family, jealous of the love they all surely give him. But he sees none of that here, none of that in this wretched, terrible place filled with wretched, terrible people.

"I just think you should you should—"

Bede's fist slams down onto the table, his long-abandoned cutlery clattering loudly. "Shut. Up," he growls, immediately receiving a room full of wide stares in return.

"Bede—"

"Who do you people think you are?" Bede hisses, ignoring Hop's protest. "How dare you all treat him this way, after everything he's accomplished?"

Everyone's eyes are boring into him, surprise over his outburst clear on their faces, but Bede doesn't care, isn't paying any sort of attention to them anymore because he cannot handle a second more of the blatant disrespect towards Hop that he's seen tonight. He's sick of being a spectator to this—this farce.

"How dare you treat him this way, when it's because of him that we didn't all die in the Darkest Day!" he spits, the memories still fresh in his mind, of skies smothered in red and purple, of the utter carnage he witnessed as dynamaxed pokémon rampaged through the streets, and what he remembers most of all, is how he did nothing to stop it.

Never again will he be a spectator. Not when he can help.

The fire in Bede's eyes only intensifies. "Need I remind you that your precious Leon failed that day?" he says, the name feeling like poison on his tongue because if all Leon has done is hide up in his stupid penthouse in Wyndon while this was happening in Postwick, then he's just as bad as they are.

"Bede—!"

"I'm not finished," Bede snarls, unwilling to let Hop talk him down, unwilling to let him keep living like this. His breaths have grown ragged, his composure breaking in a way he's not sure he's ever experienced before. "You all put so much stock in Leon, when you have the most hardworking, most selfless person I've ever met right under your noses. You instead choose to practically worship an absentee brother who's never been there for—"

"That's enough!" Hop shouts, his palms slamming against the table as he stands, panic clear in his eyes. Before Bede can even think, Hop has rounded the table, his hand grasping Bede's wrist. "We're leaving," he says, then practically yanks Bede outside of the house, only releasing his grip once they're outside, the door slamming behind them.

The rain is pouring by now, Bede's shoes sinking slightly into the waterlogged earth below as Hop stomps on ahead, seemingly uncaring of the fact that the mud is already coating the cuffs of his jeans.

As unpleasant as the scene is, satisfaction simmers in Bede's veins as he follows behind. He's glad that Hop at least had the sense to remove them both from the situation, because nothing of what was happening in that house was worth hanging around for.

Except when Hop suddenly spins on him, there's a fury burning in his golden eyes that Bede hasn't seen since their battle outside of Motostoke. "Out of order," he says, his voice cracking as tears fill his eyes. "Completely out of order!"

Bede's eyes widen, his own rage coming back with a vengeance as he realises that Hop is angry with him? After all of that, it's him he has a problem with?!

"Which part?" Bede growls dangerously. "The part where I defended you from those—"

"You can't—!" Hop takes in a desperate breath. "You can't speak to them like that! They're my family!" he shouts, as if that word somehow excuses the terrible treatment Bede has just seen.

Bede just scoffs. "They needed the wake-up call," he says coldly. "Maybe now they'll stop treating you like dirt."

"That's not how this works! That's not how any of this works!" Hop shouts, his breathing heavy, then he practically snarls. "You've ruined everything!"

Bede freezes as the words hit him. Deep down, a part of him knows that he should concede, that he should just admit fault because he knows he's done wrong. He completely failed to follow Raihan's only piece of advice, and he knows that the last thing Hop wanted was for him to make a scene, but...

He's always been good at lashing out.

"You're pathetic," Bede spits, his nose curling in contempt as his instincts take over, his brain operating on autopilot. "You let them walk all over you, let them trample you while you meekly nod along. Have you no self-respect?"

"You had no right, no right to get involved!" Hop shouts. "What are they going to think after all that?! They're going to blame me for everything!"

Bede's eyes narrow, because who cares what they think? He doesn't, and neither should Hop. "If you're looking for an apology, you'll receive no such thing," he says firmly, his arms crossed against his chest. "I won't be made out to be a villain for defending your honour. Something you clearly desperately need." Hop should appreciate what he's done, since it's already been proven that no one under his own roof will treat him with any sort of respect.

"Except I didn't ask you to do shit!" Hop counters, fists clenched to his side. "And that's an awful flowery way of wording the fact that you screamed at my mum!"

"And what was that little chat in the garden for then, if not a cry for help?" Bede hisses. "No matter how hard you try to hide it, you clearly agree that they're all a bunch of parasites, your brother included—"

An open palm slams into Bede's chest, pushing him backwards. "Shut up!" Hop shouts. "You don't know anything about me! You don't know anything about my life!"

Bede stumbles back, the fog that's taken over his mind only intensifying as he regains his balance. "Maybe I don't," he spits, his lip trembling. "Because the Hop I know wouldn't put up with what I saw today, wouldn't put up with people like that."

"Stop acting like you understand them!" Hop shouts. "They've always been there for me! My mum, Gramps, and even Lee!" He takes a stuttering breath, arms wrapping around himself as if to keep himself from falling apart.

"How can you call what they're doing being there for you?!" Bede counters, voice ragged. "They treat you like you're nothing. How can you possibly be fine about it!?"

"Because they're my family!"

"That's no excuse!"

"I know they love me!"

"That's no excuse!"

Bede isn't so sure if he's shouted so hard in his entire life, his throat feeling raw as his rage boils over. He doesn't know why his words aren't penetrating Hop's thick skull, why he won't just listen when he says that what he saw today was utterly unacceptable.

Not for the first time tonight, harsh memories fill Bede's mind, of the faces he no longer remembers dropping him off at the orphanage, with the false promise that they'd come back for him, that it was only temporary. Memories of all those years he spent in that place, of the shouting matches, the cuts, the bruises, the tears, and all the nights he spent waiting for them to come back for him.

He doesn't care about them anymore, wherever they are, whoever they were. He may be bound to them by blood, but they are not family.

"You should leave them behind," Bede says, ignoring Hop's disbelieving expression as he continues. "Move away, cut them off, block their numbers."

Hop lets out an incredulous laugh, as if he can't believe what he's hearing. "Are you being serious?" he says, his eyes only growing wider when Bede doesn't budge. "You're insane. I can't just abandon my family."

Bede can't suppress the sneer from landing on his face. "You call them your family, when they treat you like dirt, like a perpetual disappointment." He gives a final, contemptuous shake of his head, resolute in his beliefs. "No, what you have isn't a family at all."

He loves Opal, he truly does—loves Gloria, loves Marnie, loves Raihan. But if they put him down in the way Hop's family did to him tonight?

He'd let them go in a heartbeat.

"And what do you know about family?"

The words hit Bede like a physical blow, stunning him for a moment, but once he refocuses, his fury returns tenfold, like ice in his veins. "So now you're resorting to petty insults? Seems you're even more pitiful than I thought."

"As if you're any better," Hop replies coldly, his tone eerily evocative of how they used to be, a familiar sense of distrust settling in the air between them. Bede just scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I thought you'd changed," he says, even though his heart is screaming at him to stop, to just stop talking before it's too late. "I thought you'd gotten stronger, that you'd become someone worth knowing," he says instead, unsure not for the first time if he truly believes what he's saying, or if he's just trying to hurt.

"And I thought you'd changed," Hop says, a fake smile plastering his face. "Thought you'd stopped being a snivelling, self-obsessed prick who thinks his opinion matters more than anyone else's. My mistake, clearly."

Bede's heart clenches, his lip trembling because it hurts. It hurts so much to hear such words thrown his way because he has changed.

Hasn't he?

As the rain continues to pour, dripping down Bede's face, he feels like he's back there, back outside Motostoke, where everything between them truly began. So much has changed since then, but right now he feels like nothing has changed at all. They're both exactly the same as they were back then.

Weaklings, both of them.

Bede just gives one final, weak scoff, the fight having been sapped from him. "Goodbye, Hop," is all he says, and he begins to walk.

As he trudges along Route One one final time, Bede doesn't feel how his rain-soaked clothes have begun to stick to his skin, nor does he notice how the tears he so rarely sheds have begun to fall down his cheeks.

There's only a single Flying Taxi near the entrance to Wedgehurst when he arrives, and Bede just chokes out his intended destination to the driver before opening the cab's door, hesitating just long enough to turn and see what looks like Hop, still outside his house, with his head in his hands.

And the toxic, poisonous part of Bede's mind, the part that he's tried so, so hard to get rid of over all of these years, only has one thing to say.

Good.

The Flying Taxi takes off, Bede pointedly facing the opposite direction to Postwick as they ascend, and only then do the words that have been buzzing in his brain since he left finally come into focus.

What do you know about family?

Bede snorts humourlessly. What does he know about family? It's not like he's ever truly had anything of the sort. Perhaps for the briefest moments, at the very beginning of his life, but the memories have long since eroded into nothingness. He remembers not the touch of a mother, never got to experience the guidance of a father, has never truly felt the unconditional love that is supposed to come with a family.

He thinks there's a small part in his heart that had started to think of the people he cares about as family, but another part of him knows he's always been on thin ice, that he's a fool to ever think of himself as anything more than a charity case, that the love he's experienced is very much conditional.

It's better that way, Bede thinks, because if what he saw tonight is family, then he wants no part in it.

So what does he know about family?

Nothing.

He knows nothing.

And maybe he finds a sick sense of comfort in that.

Hop's hand slams down on his alarm clock, silencing the annoying din. He pulls himself up, stifling a yawn as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed. Sitting there for a brief moment, he stretches, feeling his joints crack one by one, then stands.

He opens his bedroom door just enough for him to slip himself through—any more than that and it creaks, which wouldn't be ideal so early in the morning. His bare feet thump gently against the landing, and he steps into the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

The light flickers a couple times before turning on, and Hop switches on the shower. He leans back against the sink, beginning to brush his teeth as the shower warms up. He's efficient like that, see.

Soon enough, steam starts to filter out from behind the curtain, and Hop steps into the shower. The water is hot, uncomfortably so, but he makes no move to change it. The shower is finicky, and he'll be here all day if he starts to get picky.

Some shampoo manages to get into his eyes, but that's fine.

Having rubbed at his hair with a towel just long enough that it'll probably dry properly by the time he reaches the lab, Hop opens his dresser and slips on the first jumper and pair of trackie bottoms he puts his hands on. He's sure he looks far from good, but realistically, he'll either be spending the day out in the bogs of the Wild Area, or he'll be cooped up in the lab all day. In either case, he isn't particularly interested in keeping up appearances today.

Making sure to avoid the loose, creaky step on his way down the stairs, Hop swiftly grabs his keys and opens the front door, beginning the walk to the lab.

His head turns to the Slumbering Weald for the faintest of moments, before beginning to walk in the other direction, ignoring how it beckons to him.

Hop's keys jangle loudly as he opens the lab's front door and switches the lights on—both of which are recent developments since he started coming in before Sonia. It was strange at first, but he's starting to get used to the quiet, to the only sound being the gentle hum of the computer and the coffee machine.

He drapes his labcoat over his shoulders, and gets to work.

It's just another day.

"There's something wrong with you, boy."

Bede makes a point of giving a disinterested sniff as he checks himself a final time in the mirror, loosening his gym uniform just the way he likes it. "I'm quite sure you realised that the second you first laid eyes on me," he comments dryly, his eyes drifting to Opal's face in the reflection in the mirror, to the deep frown that sits upon her face.

"And I'm quite sure that you are well aware that is not what I meant," she counters, and oh, she must be worried if she's being this direct with him.

Bede lets out a slow exhale through his nose as he returns his gaze to his own reflection. "I have told you countless times by now that I am perfectly fine," he says, well aware that he doesn't sound anywhere near as convincing as he'd like. "And I'd prefer it if you didn't press further," he makes sure to add—a low blow, he's well aware, because no matter how concerned she may be, she will always respect his privacy if he puts his foot down.

On cue, Opal harumphs before silently stalking back to her bedroom, likely because she's cross with him now, and doesn't want to see his stupid face anymore.

Which is fair. He really is quite rotten, as he's proven time and time again, least of all when it comes to—

Bede sits on the sofa, taking a deep, steadying breath as he slips on his shoes, not allowing his mind to go there. He has to focus. The championship is looming now, and he has no intent on putting on a poor performance this time, has no intent on allowing his bad mood to get in the way of his responsibilities, his duties to Ballonlea.

Sadly for his trainers, that means that their day is going to be spent getting thrashed completely and utterly until Bede feels like he's gotten in enough practice. Or until he feels better and no longer wants to put his fist into a wall. Whichever comes first.

Bede's eyes drift to his dynamax band, glinting from the mushroom-light filtering between the blinds. His fingers twitch towards it, before flinching away. Today is very much one of those days, and his nerves are fraught enough without dredging up bad memories.

The front door closes behind him, and Bede starts to make his way to the gym, eyes pointed towards the floor.

Making a point of ignoring his pokémon's growing agitation from their balls, Hop opens up the lab's incubator, procuring the bacterial samples he'll be working with today.

Some wild pokémon have been behaving strangely recently, and they've received calls from rangers and concerned citizens alike. As far as Hop can tell, it's mostly just some sudden changes in migration routes or the occasional lone pokémon wandering into a town. Though, Turffield was apparently a proper mess when a group of Electrike wandered in, but Milo thankfully had it all handled.

Hop is glad that whatever is going on isn't too bad, and as much as he hates to admit it, he isn't going to turn his nose up at such a solid excuse for him to get lost in his work.

He thinks back to the Copperajah that somehow managed to wander into the Tangle, wondering if he should have taken it more seriously at the time. It isn't the biggest stretch to assume the events are linked in some capacity, and maybe they could have caught whatever is going on much earlier.

He's draining the last of his coffee when the front door opens, Sonia surely, but he's too focused on the preliminary notes he's made to pay much attention to her. She wasn't pleased when he first started coming in early, but she's learned that he's stubborn about this sort of thing by now.

"Brr, it's freezing in here," Sonia immediately comments as she wraps her lab coat over her shoulders, burying herself into it slightly as she shivers again. "Did you forget to turn the heating on?"

Hop hums quietly, only now realising how cold it is. He must have forgotten. That sounds like him. Useless and inconsiderate and—

The boiler hums to life, the radiators clicking as they turn on. It'll take a bit, but the lab will be warm again in no time.

Sonia walks back into the main room of the lab, rubbing her hands together for warmth in the meantime. "Watcha working on?" she asks, eyes looking over his hastily scribbled notes.

"Was just about to start setting up the microscope slides," Hop replies flatly, his eyes unfocused as he fixes his gaze vaguely towards the papers he isn't really reading anymore.

"Oof, you want me to do it? I know you don't like—"

"It's fine," Hop says, biting his tongue when he realises how terse he sounds. He lifts his head, and grins. "Really. Need to learn how to do it properly eventually, don't I?" he says, and Sonia gives him the look she always does when she isn't buying his bullshit.

And so Hop gives her the look that he always does when he's daring her to actually point it out.

"Alright, well..." She starts to twirl her ponytail, breaking eye contact. "Just let me know if you're having trouble then, 'kay?" she says, and Hop just gives a thumbs-up in response. Possible disaster averted, and very much for the best for everyone involved.

A few minutes later, Hop is opening up the chemical cupboard, the one containing the vivid purple dye he'll need for the staining procedure, and lets out a weary sigh when some of it gets on his hands just from handling the bottle.

He really does hate this.

"You seem out of it, boss."

Irritation immediately starts to bubble in Bede's gut as Gwyn, one of the younger trainers at the gym, speaks up, but he swallows it down. She's just concerned, and he's not the sort of Gym Leader who gets angry with his trainers merely over them showing concern towards him. Not anymore, at least.

Ha, what a joke, Bede thinks, before swallowing that down too.

"If this is you trying to get out of your training drills, then it was a very poor attempt," he remarks dryly, crossing his arms as he looks to Gwyn as she lifts up one of her shoes to start tying it.

Gwyn lets out an indignant sound, bringing a hand to her chest. "How could you possibly suggest such a thing? You know I'm always at one hundred percent at training!" she says, a flagrantly false statement by every stretch of the imagination.

"Considering the fact that you're resorting to dramatics instead of putting on your shoes, I'm afraid I disagree," Bede counters as he glares at her. He has little patience for concern today, and people should respect his decision to wallow deep in self pity.

"It isn't dramatics," she says with a pout, still not lacing up her shoes. "I'm just worried about you because you're going around scowling even harder than usual."

Bede just rolls his eyes. One of the downsides to him being such an argumentative person is that the gym's youngest recruits have taken after him quite nicely. Now half of his gym is inhabited by grannies who are thoroughly unaffected by anything he has to say, and the other half is filled with brats who talk back to him over everything.

He'd perhaps be proud if he weren't in such a foul mood.

"I assure you that I am perfectly fine, and that you will be doing extra laps around the pitch for being so nosy," Bede says, ignoring Gwyn's squawk as he walks away to the exit. He has no intent on actually enforcing that threat, but sometimes he needs to put the fear of Arceus into his trainers lest they overstep their positions and think that they can get away with worrying over him.

Bede lets out a huff as he steps onto the pitch, first out as always. There's an electricity in the air, a telltale sign of a storm incoming, but...

A glimmer of sunshine prods through one of the few gaps in the Tangle's thick canopy, suggesting otherwise.

Bede's nose wrinkles as he checks his Rotom phone, the weather forecast making it abundantly clear that, despite the lowering temperatures, there is going to be sunshine all day. Not that Ballonlea ever sees much of it.

Whatever, Bede thinks as he pushes some of his hair out of his face.

He must be losing it.

"Okay, that's it," Sonia says, slamming her palms onto her desk, the sound punching through the heavy silence that's settled between them over the course of the morning. "What's up with you?"

Hop doesn't answer, instead giving a vague hum as he pretends to adjust the focus of the microscope—an attempt to buy time so that he can figure out how to possibly answer that question.

"Hop."

"Yeah?" he finally says, because if he ignores her for any longer when he's like this, she'll probably throw something at him. "What's up?"

Sonia leers at him before moving to the front of her desk, leaning back against it with crossed arms. "That's what I asked you. You've been off for a while now," she says, and it's clear she doesn't mean since this morning.

Hop makes a show of snorting, then brings his eyes back to the lens of the microscope. "There's nothing wrong, Sones. Just focused on work," he says—work she has specifically asked him to do, so she shouldn't be getting upset with him for doing it.

He hears Sonia let out a harsh, disbelieving-sounding exhale through her nose as she walks away to the other side of the lab, seemingly finally leaving him alone. He's really not sure what her problem is, because he's perfectly, one hundred percent fine.

After a few more minutes of adjusting the focus, Hop grits his teeth. He hates this, has always hated everything to do with these bloody microscopes. The staining procedure for the slides always gets his hands covered in purple dye, the sort that won't wash out for an entire week, and he's always been absolutely rubbish at getting it to even work.

The slide scrapes against the surface of the microscope as he yanks it out. This one is clearly useless, surely because of some mistake he made preparing it—a common occurrence for as long as he's been Sonia's assistant.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Sonia says from somewhere on the other side of the lab, surely detecting his growing frustrations.

"Peachy, Sones!" he chirps as he places a new slide into the microscope, doing his best to expertly manoeuvre his tone so that it sounds casual while also being firm enough to heavily suggest that it'd be best if she'd just bloody drop it.

...

He can't see anything through this stupid microscope. It isn't just a lack of anything interesting, it's a lack of anything at all, and he has no idea if it's because of the microscope, or the slides, or his stupid bastard eyes which are apparently going to shit.

With a growl, he swaps slides once again, his teeth sinking into his tongue when it's just as devoid as the others. Why can't he do this? Why, after all of these years, does he still struggle with something as basic as using a microscope? It's been years since he started working at the lab. He's trying to become a professor, and here his useless, pathetic arse is, struggling with a bloody—

"Look, Hop, I know about—"

"Arceus, can you just leave me the fuck alone?!"

The remaining slides shatter when Hop's hand bats over the microscope, the harsh sound only setting his nerves even more ablaze. "I'm sick to bloody death of everyone bothering me, all the bloody time!"

He ignores Sonia's wide-eyed expression as he stands, his stool clanging as it tumbles to the floor, and he brings his hands to his head with a hysterical laugh. "I'm sick of people forcing themselves into my life!" he shouts, pointing a trembling finger in Sonia's direction. "Sick of people like you not leaving me alone when I say I'm fine!"

The irony of saying such a thing while he appears to be having some sort of mental breakdown isn't lost on him, but the thought does little to assuage his anger. He just can't handle any of this anymore.

"I'm sick of all the constant pressure! I'm sick of everyone always having something to say about what I'm doing with my life, I'm sick of this bloody microscope, and my hands are fucking purple and I—"

Hop hiccups as the tears start to fall. His back hits the wall behind him, a heavy sob wracking through his body as he slides down it. A pair of arms wrap around him, but Hop can barely feel it, too focused on why everything just hurts, why it all always hurts so much.

His throat hurts by the time the tears stop pouring down his cheeks, a relentless buzzing settling in his mind because he just spent however long screaming at his boss who is probably going to fire him and...

Well, she's currently rubbing soothing circles into the back of his hand with her thumb, so maybe not.

A weak hiccup tumbles from Hop's lips. "S-sorry, I—"

"Shhh, don't worry about it," Sonia says quietly. "I think this has been a long time coming, honestly," she adds, and Hop just swallows heavily, his throat still feeling raw.

Has it...?

Maybe. He's not quite sure when everything started to become too much, when all of the little problems in his life piled up so much that the weight became too much to bear, nor when he began to bottle all of his feelings up, when he began to silently hope that everything would just solve itself.

Perhaps it's because every time he tries to do anything, he fails horribly.

Hop sobs quietly for a few more moments. The sunlight filtering through the windows feels too bright, the heat from the radiators too stifling. His tear-streaked cheeks feel gross, and he tries to wipe them clean before Sonia bats his hand away and starts to do so herself.

His eyes widen when he sees the microscope, the extremely expensive piece of equipment he clattered over like it was nothing, and he wrestles himself from Sonia's grip. "Shit, Sones, I'm sorry—" The words catch in his throat and his chest tightens, because if Sonia isn't going to fire him, she definitely should and—

"Hey, hey!" Sonia clicks her fingers in front of Hop's face, bringing him back down to earth. "Breathe. Worst case scenario, you've busted the lens, but it isn't—"

"But, Sones!" Hop tries to breathe, he really does, but he just can't. "Y-you can't have an assistant who—who loses his rag over nothing like this!"

"I'll have whatever assistant I bloody well please, thank you very much," Sonia says, her arms crossed. "And you should know by now that I'm your friend first and your boss second."

Hop just takes a shuddering breath, his arms coming to wrap around himself tightly. Friends or no, he's acting like a bloody lunatic. Feels like a lunatic as well.

Sonia sighs heavily, also curling in on herself slightly. "You know I wouldn't replace you for the world, and I should've known you were near the end of your tether," she says, and Hop purses his lips.

He definitely doesn't know that, and there was no way for her to know how bad things had gotten because he doesn't tell anyone anything anymore.

"Come on, sit," Sonia orders, leading him to the sofa, "and I'll make you a cup of tea, yeah?"

Hop silently obeys, much too frazzled to do anything else, though tea does sound good. As he sits, he realises his hands are trembling, his muscles aching. Sonia heads off to the kitchen, and the collective hum of the lab's equipment feels louder than it ever has.

Arceus, he's awful. He's screamed at Sonia, smashed up her microscope, and now he's wasting her time needing to be looked after like a child.

Sonia returns, two mugs in hand, and Hop murmurs a quiet thank you when she hands his over.

"Lie down," she says, and Hop's brows knit in confusion before just doing as he's told, slowly laying back so that he doesn't tip his tea over himself. Sonia walks over to her desk and wheels her office chair over, then spins it backwards and takes a seat, resting her arms on the back. "So... spill."

Hop blinks. "This isn't therapy, Sones," he says dryly. If he's being honest, the last thing he wants to do right now is spill anything. All he wants to do is enjoy his tea in peace, and then he'll be right as rain.

"Then just tell me what you want me to hear," Sonia says, far more generous and understanding than he'd ever expect from her, and while he hates the fact that he feels like he's being handled with safety gloves... it does make him feel a bit less apprehensive.

"Well..." he starts quietly. "I'm... stressed," he decides on saying, and doesn't receive the no shit he'd been expecting, instead receiving a small nod in response, Sonia clearly wanting him to continue. "I... it's not the work necessarily, I'm just... stressed about the future." Among other things, but one problem at a time, he thinks.

Sonia hums, starting to spin her chair left and right, clearly unable to keep still. "That's fair," she says, starting to twirl her ponytail between her fingers before looking to him more firmly. "And you realise you can always talk to me about it, yeah?"

"S'not that easy..." Hop says quietly, because what could she possibly say that would actually help him? "I don't like complaining about—"

"It's not complaining, Hop," Sonia interrupts, a bit against the point of a therapy-not-therapy session, in Hop's opinion. "You've barely opened up to anyone in years. You're always... brushing everything off." She tilts her head as she looks to him. "We've all been worried for a while."

Hop's breath hitches, and he lets out a sharp exhale from his nose, his ears starting to burn. So they've been talking about him. Worrying about him. The thought makes him uneasy, because everything he's done has been to avoid exactly that, to just keep everyone in the dark.

"It's hard," he admits quietly. It feels impossibly, insurmountably difficult. "I just don't want to be a bother."

Sonia's face cracks, and Hop's stomach twists because it's exactly the sort of reaction he's always tried to avoid, because for whatever reason, whenever people get an inkling of just how bloody sad he is all the time these days, they get like this.

Memories of nights spent alone in his bedroom fill Hop's mind, of tears spilled over lost love and crushed dreams, of the dark thoughts that continually fill his mind whenever he isn't distracting himself with work or other people.

"I know it's hard," Sonia eventually says. "But we care about you, Hop. We want to help you, to make you feel better." And Hop thinks that's all well and good, but the problem is that—

"You just need to let us in."

Hop lets out a harsh exhale from his nose and brings his mug to his lips, mostly in an attempt to cover his face because it's awful. There's nothing he wants less than for people to realise that he's a miserable sod who spends most of his alone-time feeling bloody sorry for himself. He's supposed to be happy, supposed to be someone who is there for other people, and he has little intent on letting the image drop now.

But Arceus, he's tired.

So, so tired of it all.

By the time he's drained his mug of tea, he realises that Sonia is fiddling with the microscope, looking through the eyepiece. Then she turns to him, a small smirk on her face. "It's working just fine, see? You've got nothing to worry about," she says, motioning towards him as if to offer him a look, but the last thing he wants to do right now is to have anything to do with that wretched thing.

Hop lets out a slow exhale, his grip on the mug tightening ever so slightly.

You've got nothing to worry about.

He sits himself up, rubbing away at his eyes and curling in on himself. He's sure he'd be crying again if he hadn't already run his tear ducts ragged. Sonia takes a seat next to him and wraps an arm around his shoulders, and Hop sniffles. "Twenty years old and I'm being like this," Hop says. It's embarrassing, it's pathetic, and...

Sonia waves him off, her grip only tightening as she pulls him a bit closer. "Oh come on, look at me! I still cry over the soaps."

That at least manages to drag a semblance of a laugh from Hop, even if it ends up more like a vague huff of air more than anything. "Now that's dire," he says with a tiny smirk, promptly earning himself a flick to the nose.

With one last deep breath, Hop squirms out of Sonia's grip again and stands, giving her a weak smile. "Right, then... back to work, yeah?" he attempts, though the look on her face is telling him a resounding no.

"Sorry to tell you this..." Sonia says, her face pulling an expression that lands somewhere between conspiratorial and straight-up guilty. "But there's just one last bit to this whole opening up thing."

Hop frowns, because he does not like the sound of that, not at all, but before he can even open his mouth to question it, there's a knock on the door. Hop turns, immediately spotting the mop of purple hair poking around through the doorway, and a pair of wide, golden eyes meet his.

"Err... is now a bad time?" Lee says, his shoulders tight as he fully enters the lab, scratching his neck nervously, and Hop wants to say yes, it's an absolutely terrible time, please go away, but Sonia speaks up before he gets the chance.

"Nope!" she chirps, physically pulling Hop up from the sofa and pushing him towards Lee. "Hop here has a lot he wants to say to you!"

Hop grimaces when he sees Lee's worried-looking expression, and he sends Sonia, the traitor, a dirty look, because she must have grassed on him while she was making his tea.

Lee just clears his throat, looking small for the first time that Hop thinks he's ever seen. "We can... go to the café, yeah?" he says, and Hop heaves a heavy sigh, his cheeks burning over all the attention.

Maybe... there are some things he'd like to say.

Bede lets out a small, disappointed huff as Gwyn's Grimmsnarl faints, the fight having been over far too quickly for his tastes.

"Next." The word slips from his mouth before he can even think, and his eyes drift to Kai, Ballonlea's youngest trainer.

Bede remembers the day when Kai first wandered into Ballonlea with nothing but their Cottonee in tow, having been left orphaned and homeless after the Second Darkest Day. Bede isn't entirely sure why, but there was no other option in his mind other than to take them under his wing, for them to join Ballonlea's gym as a trainer. Maybe he saw potential in them. Maybe he saw a bit of himself within them.

Or maybe he likes having a living reminder of the terrible things he did, of the disaster he played a part in causing.

Despite everything that's happened to them, Kai is quite the prodigy in battle, in Bede's opinion, especially for their young age. Though, as their turn for battle arrives, Bede sees little of the fire he's come to expect from them, their eyes unfocused, and their posture rigid.

"It is high time for a break, I believe."

Bede's grip on Gardevoir's pokéball tightens, and he slowly turns to see Opal having shambled her way onto the pitch. As displeased as he is to see her, he does at least do her the very generous favour of closing the gap between them.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't suggest that I am mistreating my trainers," he says through gritted teeth once he's close. "I am cycling through everyone in order to ensure an appropriate amount of breaks." He does not tolerate any mistreatment of his trainers, least of all by his own hand.

"Do not be obtuse," Opal counters, her gaze as sharp and calculating as ever despite her increasingly old age. "I am quite obviously referring to yourself, who has not taken a break in several hours."

Bede scoffs bitterly. He has no patience for this. "Need I remind you that you are no longer the leader of this gym?" he spits. "I have my responsibilities, and I would appreciate it if you stayed out of my way." With a dismissive turn of his heel, he begins to walk back to the centre of the pitch.

"Kai," he barks out, his foot tapping impatiently as he motions for them to take their position.

But Kai just lowers their head, their feet planted on the ground as they avert eye contact. Bede grits his teeth, looking over to the other trainers to see all of them avoiding his gaze, and it's abundantly clear to him that he has a mutiny on his hands.

Cowards, the lot of them.

Bede growls under his breath and begins to stamp his feet towards the locker rooms, pointedly ignoring whatever wretched look Opal must be giving him as he storms past her. The air still feels charged with something, the strange sensation from before, and it makes him want to—

He launches his water bottle the second he's out of view, promptly slamming his hand onto the surface of the nearest locker. How dare they turn against him like this, as if everything he does isn't for them? For Ballonlea?

It isn't as if he truly does anything for himself anymore. He's long since accepted that he'll never become Champion, no longer has any real desire to become Champion after everything he's heard from Gloria, of all the horror stories of paparazzi and psychotic fans, of overbearing managers and boring meetings. It would all be quite a dreadful fit for him, and with such reservations, he knows deep down that he truly has no chance of ever defeating her.

What he does have passion for, however, is Ballonlea, for the place that took him in after he lost everything he had. Everything he does is to give back to the place that took him in, that's always tolerated his... prickliness no matter how difficult he's being. But now...?

He feels like an outsider all over again.

Bede's breath hitches. Is he truly so terrible? Is he truly so horrible that even Ballonlea can no longer tolerate him? Is he truly so insufferable, so irredeemable that he always ruins every relationship he so cherishes?

Images of Hop fill Bede's mind, of the anger, the hatred Hop sent his way after the things he did, after he forced himself into something he should never have even begun to involve himself in, and the world starts to feel as if it's spinning around him.

Slamming the bathroom stall door behind him, Bede falls to the floor, no longer of sound enough mind to even think of locking it behind him as he takes quick, shallow breaths, unable to think properly because there's something in the air, something that keeps making him think of echoing screams and red skies and all of his countless failures and he needs help but Sylveon fainted in his last battle and—

Light flashes through the stall, a wave of psychic energy hitting Bede's mind, unpleasant and barely contained, but contained nonetheless. Did he release Hatterene from her ball? He must have, fumbling helplessly at his belt

She must be extremely cross with him.

Bede chokes out a cough. "I-I'm sorry..." he barely manages between short breaths, feeling no different to the child who cried and hyperventilated when his world first came crashing down on him.

Arceus, he's pathetic.

A coo sounds out, and something touches Bede's pinky finger, his eyes immediately darting to see Hatterene's tentacle wrapping gently around it. He swallows hard, and does his best to focus on his breathing. He knows how difficult times like these are for her, and the touch, as subtle as it is, is grounding, so he'll do his best to calm down.

For her.

Bede feels Hatterene's psychic energy slowly starts to stabilise, a reflection of his own state of mind, and he heaves a heavy exhale, eyes drifting up tentatively to Hatterene's face, schooled to neutrality as she avoids eye contact, as if embarrassed by the whole situation.

It's... maybe a bit funny.

With the tiniest of smiles, Bede lifts himself up from the, in hindsight, disgusting bathroom floor, and sits himself on the toilet's lid. He runs a hand through his hair, his forehead drenched in sweat.

Perhaps... a break wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

He stands, taking one final deep breath as he clasps Hatterene's pokéball. "Would you like to return to your ball?" he asks, though a part of him already knows the answer.

Hatterene glares at him, which Bede thinks might actually be the nicest way of saying no that she's physically capable of, and he lets out a small huff as he exits the bathroom, approaching the showers. He needs to wash these dreadful emotions off of himself, as well as the germs he's surely picked up from the floor.

"Don't... maul anyone if they come in here," he warns Hatterene, waggling a finger in her direction, and receives a disgruntled huff in response, as if the request is unreasonable.

Bede enters the shower, sighing heavily as he presses his forehead against the tiled wall, hot water cascading from his shoulders.

What a rotten, rotten day.

Hop wraps his hands around his oversized mug of tea once he's seated himself in a booth at the café. He presses his palms against the sides—hot, hot, hot, but grounding as he concentrates on the unpleasant sensation.

Lee slides into the other side of the booth, placing an iced, sugar-filled monstrosity even by Hop's standards on the table in front of him. His posture is as tight as it has been since he first turned up at the lab, and Hop averts eye contact, leaning his face into his palm as he looks out through the window and to the street.

This sucks.

"So..." Lee starts, then clears his throat. "How've things been?" he asks, and countless words fill Hop's mind, none of them good.

"Fine," he decides on, well aware that he sounds so flat and unconvincing that he'd may as well have just been honest. He opens his mouth to continue, eager to steer the conversation towards anything but his feelings, but no words come out, the relentless buzzing that's been plaguing his mind as of late too all-encompassing.

"Yeah, yeah, cool..." Lee says lamely, nodding his head a few times before starting to chew on his straw, his foot tapping away under the table. Then, he scoots himself forward, and Hop knows the talk is officially starting. "Look... I heard about what happened with Bede."

Hop has to suppress a sneer at the mention of him, instead choosing to focus on the fact that his life is surely over now, because of course he knows. Of course his mum told Lee about how he brought in some—some ruffian who shouted at them all and heavily suggested that she's a rubbish mother. "Lee, I—"

"He's right."

The words stop Hop in his tracks, because he knows that Lee can't be talking about what Bede said, but the meaningful look he's giving him tells him everything he needs to know, Lee's expression more serious than Hop thinks he's ever seen—outside of battle at least.

"You can't be serious," Hop says incredulously, crossing his arms as he sits back in his chair. "He literally shouted at—"

"I am serious," Lee says firmly. "And I'm aware he shouted plenty, but from what Mum relayed to me, nothing he said was wrong." He averts his gaze, looking straight down to the table. "Even what he said about..."

Hop swallows heavily as Lee trails off, because he knows what he's referring to, but it isn't true at all. Maybe there have been points in his life where he's wished that Lee was around more than he was, but that's always been selfishness on his part. Lee has always had better things to do, more important things to do than to just hang around Postwick for his sake. He can't be angry with him over that.

And yet, when his mouth opens to say exactly that, the words turn to ash on his tongue, and he silently looks away.

Because he is angry.

He's always been angry, has always hated that the only person in his family who doesn't treat him as lesser than Lee is Lee himself, and he's barely ever around.

He thinks he might hate himself for that, too.

Hop's tea remains untouched as he returns to looking out the window. He thinks he might be sick if he dared to take a sip right now.

"What have you been doing in work recently?"

Hop jolts, looking back to Lee to see a determined, and maybe the slightest bit intimidating expression on his face. "Eh...?"

"I said, what have you been doing in work recently?" Lee says, louder this time, as if the problem was his volume and not the fact that Hop is deeply confused as to why he would ask such a thing now, of all times.

"I don't understand—"

"I want to be around more." Lee's grip on his drink visibly tightens for a moment, and he lets out a small exhale. "Bede is right that I haven't been there for you enough, and I want to change, starting now." His shoulders droop slightly. "Even if it's... starting small," he ekes out quietly.

Hop feels himself deflate like a balloon, the idea of being seen conjuring up a mixture of emotions within him. If he's being honest, he's gotten used to Lee not being especially interested in his work, to how much he struggles to pay attention whenever people are talking about anything but battling.

"W-well, uhh..." He swallows, his throat feeling dry as he falters, but when he looks to his brother's attentive gaze, fixed directly towards him even if his foot is still nervously tapping away under the table, the slightest bit of hope blooms in Hop's chest.

Hop clears his throat. "Me and Sonia have been taking some saliva samples from pokémon that have been acting all... odd recently," he explains quietly, suddenly feeling like he's a kid showing off his bloody... rock collection or something. "Took one from a Lapras, but I need to find another to compare it with, and you know how elusive those things can be."

Lee hums, before brightening in that way that makes his eyes hurt. "I can help with that!" he chirps, cracking his knuckles. "We can fly around on Charizard until we find one!"

Hop grimaces, memories of Lee flying Charizard like a bloody lunatic filling his mind. There's a reason they've never flown together, and he isn't sure if his lack of enthusiasm for heights has changed much.

Still... a day out in the Wild Area with just the two of them does sound fun.

He curls in on himself slightly when he remembers the usual problem. "But aren't you, y'know... busy all the time?" he says, hating how desperate he sounds, but he's heard such words countless times in his life by now, countless times where Lee has said they should do something, and they never do because he's just busy.

Lee lowers his head, and Hop cringes at how much he looks like a guilty Yamper. He starts to chew the inside of his cheek, looking like he's struggling to find the right words to say.

"I think... I've always felt like things have been out of my hands in my life," he eventually says quietly, and oh, doesn't that sound familiar in a way that makes Hop's heart ache. "Back when I was Champion... I let the League control pretty much my entire life. Let them choose how I would spend my days, let them dictate exactly how busy I would be." He scoffs bitterly, his hat shifting up slightly as he brings a hand to his forehead. "Turns out that meant they would just keep me busy all the time."

Hop hums. It's not the first time he's heard such a thing. The first thing Lee did after Gloria became the Champ was oversee all of her contracts so that she wouldn't sign away her life like he did, though this is the first time he's hearing it from Lee's mouth.

"A part of me didn't mind," Lee admits quietly. "What they wanted from me was more... tangible than what our family wanted. I'd pose for the cameras, sign the contract that would allow so-and-so brand to put my face on a cereal box, and sit in all the boring meetings." He snorts. "Wasn't always good, but it meant I didn't have to deal with any real expectations, and I still got to battle plenty."

Lee lifts up his hat, and runs a hand through his hair. "I'll never forget the first thing Gramps said to me when I got home for the first time after winning the championship," he says, a wry smile on his face. "He didn't say congratulations or welcome home. He said, so, what's next for you?"

"That's ridiculous," Hop blurts out, before suddenly clamping his mouth shut. He shouldn't speak of Gramps in such a way, but...

"It was pretty ridiculous," Lee agrees, before looking away. "I didn't have an answer for him. How could I? I always wanted to be the Champion. I hadn't even started to think of an after."

"Must've been nice... being away in Wyndon, I mean," Hop says quietly, only realising how bitter he must sound once the words have already been let out of his mind and into the world.

He doesn't like when he gets like this.

But Lee just lets out a small laugh, seemingly not at all offended. "It was, in a way. Not sure it did much good for my independence, though," he says, his eyes looking far away. "After Gloria beat me... I didn't really know what to do with my life. Got the idea for the Battle Tower, thinking that I had a responsibility to teach and challenge the next generation of trainers." He shakes his head and lets out a small, humourless laugh. "I think even then, I was just trying to shackle myself to something else."

Hop just nods silently, unable to muster up any more words. He never realised how much their family's expectations had affected Lee as well, since he's never, ever even begun to suggest as much.

Maybe they're alike in that way.

Determination suddenly glints in Lee's eyes as he shifts himself forward, leaning closer as if to ensure Hop hears every single word he has to say. "But I'm done running away if it means leaving you behind. So I'm gonna do what I want to do with my days, and that means pestering you every single opportunity I can," he says, and Hop immediately splutters.

"Please don't," he says, but he can't stop the smile from breaking out on his lips at the idea. Too much Lee might sound a bit like a nightmare, but... it sounds a million times better than not enough.

"And," Lee continues, a grin on his face, "I'm gonna start telling Mum and Gramps off when they start getting weird." He puffs up his chest, and Hop lets out a noise that's some sort of mixture of a laugh and a sound of pure mortification because this is Lee talking here. He's never told off anyone in his entire life.

"Definitely don't do that," he says, eyes darting around nervously as if the rest of the family might somehow be eavesdropping, though he can't ignore how something akin to excitement is starting to bubble up inside him at the idea.

"I will," Lee says, sticking out his lower lip. "I reckon Bede is onto something. If he wasn't in my good books before, he is now, 'cause I think he's knocking some sense into the lot of us."

Hop scoffs, his mood thoroughly dampened now at the mention of Bede, because he's the one who started this spiral he's been on for the last week. All this was spurred on by the prick who was terrible to him in the rain all those years ago. All of this was spurred on by...

The only person who has really made him feel properly happy in such a long, long time.

It's undeniable, as much as he wants to deny it. His stomach twists as he thinks back to their fight, of how Bede had gotten so angry on his behalf, had tried to help when he saw how distressed he was. Hop knows he was just trying to help, but none of what Bede was doing was the right way of going about things, so he got scared and—

What do you know about family?

It's inexcusable. It was absolutely horrid of him, and he knows it. Deep down, he thinks he's known the entire time that he was the villain in that situation, not Bede. He just didn't want to face the reality of it, the reality that such terrible words could ever pour out of his mouth.

Bede was just trying to help.

"Hey..." Lee says, reaching across the table to tap on Hop's arm with a concerned-looking frown on his face. "You okay?"

Hop swallows hard, his throat suddenly feeling dry. "Yeah, s'just..." He takes a shuddering breath.

"I think I need to talk to Bede."

Bede huffs as he recovers his previously launched bottle and refills it at the water fountain, the locker room thankfully devoid of any entrails from Hatterene's hypothetical victims. He walks towards the exit, well aware that everyone else is likely still out there, and takes a deep breath.

When his attempt to soothe himself very much fails, he opens the door with gritted teeth and begins his walk of shame to the centre of the pitch. He flinches when he realises that the strange sensation that's been plaguing him all day feels like it's stronger than ever, has only grown more suffocating, whatever it is.

He truly does hope that he isn't going insane. He has enough things on his plate already.

Everyone turns as he approaches, Gwyn waving enthusiastically towards him in a way that Bede can't tell if it's facetious or not. It'd better not be, or else he'll actually make her run those extra laps.

Opal lets out a hmph once he's close, Hatterene trailing behind him. "Feeling better?" she drawls, tapping her umbrella into the turf below.

"Can it, hag," Bede says, but there's little energy in it. His eyes drift over his trainers, and he lowers his head. "I... apologise for my—"

"Don't apologise, idiot!" Gwen interrupts, and Bede deeply considers performing a very public firing for the briefest of moments before just as quickly deciding against it. "We're just worried about you!"

"Indeed," Opal says with a haughty sniff, the rest of the gym's granny squad surrounding her. "A gym's trainers have just as much a responsibility to their leader as a leader does to their trainers, and I'm quite sure they'd prefer if their leader didn't run himself into the ground, hmm?"

Bede just scoffs weakly as Opal leers at him, daring him to argue, and the rest of the gym's trainers have expressions ranging from grins to vague attempts at imitating Opal's strict-looking face. He makes one final plea to Hatterene, only to see her glaring at him the hardest of all.

He rolls his eyes with an overdramatic sigh. "Fine," he concedes. "I will attempt to look after myself better in the future," he says, though he's sure this will not be the last time he's forced to have this conversation.

"Ha! There we go!" Gwyn chirps, severely overstepping her position as she wraps an arm around Bede's shoulders. Sometimes he truly does consider deporting her to Spikemuth. "Now, let's get back to training, yeah?" she says, which sounds all well and good in Bede's mind, but...

Something is off.

Bede hears a sharp, panicked whimper, his head immediately swinging to Kai, hiding in the back of the group, arms wrapped tightly around themself as they take in quick, shallow breaths. Bede quickly springs to action, approaching them and lowering himself to a single knee.

"Tell me what's wrong," he says, well aware that he's being far too blunt, but his own chest is tightening, the hairs on his arms standing on end, because...

Kai hiccups, tears pooling in their eyes as they continue to take stuttering, uneven breaths. "S-something isn't right!" they shout out, and the words send a chill down Bede's spine. "There's—there's something wrong, and I don't know what..." They trail off as a sob wracks through their whole body.

And Bede's face cracks as the pieces fall into place, and he realises exactly what it is that he's been feeling in the air all day.

"So... you're gonna head to Ballonlea?"

Hop sighs, feeling bad because of how sad Lee sounds. He'd obviously been expecting them to hang out for longer, but... he's not sure he can put off seeing Bede for any more than he already has. If he's being honest, what he wants is for this problem to magically sort itself out, but if there's anything he's learned today, it's that that isn't an option anymore, if it ever truly was.

Bede's arms reach out to shield Kai as an explosion of blinding, almost scalding light flashes across the stadium from behind him. The ground itself shakes, and Bede wraps his arms around Kai's waist before throwing him into Gwyn's waiting arms.

"I-I dunno..." Hop says quietly, eyes drifting to the TV above the cafe's counter as he tries to distract himself, just for a moment. "I'm not sure if he'd like to see me after..." He trails off, eager to not repeat the dreadful things he said that night.

"Get Opal to safety!" Bede barks out to whoever can hear, ignoring her distant protests as she begins to be led away. "Gardevoir, protect!"

A massive blast of energy cracks against the shield Gardevoir creates, so powerful that Bede loses his balance even from his spot of relative safety, and a loud, piercing screech echoes out, reflecting off of the stadium's walls, and within Bede's very mind.

Hop sighs, indecision clouding his mind as he just thinks, thinks, thinks as the TV keeps playing, saying something about...

"...reports of spontaneous dynamax incidents across all of Galar, including in Wyndon, Motostoke, Turffield, Ballonlea—"

"Get out of here!" Bede snarls as Gwyn tries to hold her own ground next to him, Gardevoir shuddering as she takes another hit. "You have to turn on the dynamax shielding!"

"But you'll be trapped!" she screams back, as if Bede doesn't know that already!

"Someone has to keep her distracted, or else we all might die!" Bede shouts back. Never has his duty to Ballonlea been more important, and maybe...

Maybe now he can make up for everything he did before.

Gwyn lets out an unrestrained growl of frustration, her voice shaky. "You'd better come out of this okay!" she shouts back, and Bede nods, a silent promise, before she bolts towards the exit.

"Gardevoir, Magical Leaf!" Bede shouts out, intent on covering her escape. He's glad that she understands that, ultimately, no one else here truly stands a chance of holding their ground except for him.

Though, as he looks up, up, up to Hatterene's towering form, gigantamaxed and completely out of control, and to the red clouds swirling above, he's unsure if he can truly keep his promise.

"I'll pay you ten times the usual bloody fare if you just get me to Ballonlea!" Hop practically screams into the face of the Corviknight cab driver.

"Are you stark-raving mad?" the driver spits back in return. "Ain't no money that'll get me to risk myself and me Corviknight going there."

Hop growls, tempted to knock the bloke out and steal the cab for himself when he feels a hand on his shoulder. When he spins around, he sees Lee, with Charizard out of his ball behind him.

"We don't need a cab," he says, and Hop's face pales. He'd been mentally psyching himself up for them to fly together, but he hadn't been expecting to do it today.

"You have got to be joking," he ekes out, ignoring the cab driver's disgruntled grumbling behind him.

"You said we need to get to Ballonlea now," Lee says, his own impatience clear in his inability to keep himself still. "Charizard won't let you fall, isn't that right, big guy?"

Charizard lets out a huff of smoke through his nose as Lee scratches under his chin, and Hop swallows. He supposes there's no choice left but to take Charizard, or likely go to jail for battery, so...

He takes a deep breath. No backing out now. "Alright..." He slaps his hands hard against the side of his head. "Alright, let's go!" he says, clambering behind Lee on Charizard's back, eyes clamping shut the second they take off because he doesn't even want to know what the view is like from so high up.

Hop's heart pounds in his chest, his mind consumed with thoughts of whatever might be happening in Ballonlea right now, consumed with thoughts of what could be happening to Bede right now, and the fact that he can't do anything about it is driving him downright insane.

"Faster, Charizard, please," he practically begs, words that would never come out of his mouth under any other circumstances, but it's like he can see clearly now for the first time in a long time, can finally see clearly just how much Bede has come to mean to him in such a short time.

The thought of losing him is unbearable.

"Hold on tight," Lee says as he directs Charizard to soar up higher, the trees of the Glimwood Tangle visible in the distance, as well as a mass of red and purple—raw dynamax energy in an amount he hasn't seen since the Second Darkest Day, situated surely where Ballonlea stadium stands.

He feels sick.

Once they're close, Charizard divebombs down towards one of the few gaps in the canopy, too close to the action for comfort, but Hop finds no breath for argument because they have no time to waste. Wind whips harshly against his face and through his hair, and once they breach the canopy...

Hop feels it.

It's numbing, paralysing, and debilitating all at once, putting him to sleep and yet also making all of his synapses fire off all at once, and his grip on Lee falters.

And he falls.

As all of the air he'd been holding evacuates his lungs, Hop thinks he can hear Lee's distant scream of his name as he plummets towards the ground, far too quickly and from too high up to have any chance whatsoever of surviving.

It's... peaceful, almost. The newfound quietness of his mind is soothing, his frequently anxious thoughts finally silent for the first time in years.

In what are surely his final moments, Hop's mind drifts to everything he holds dear. To his friends, to his brother, even to his Mum and Gramps, despite everything between them.

And his mind drifts to Bede, fighting for his life right now, surely doing the best he can to contain whatever it is that's happening in the stadium.

No, he thinks. He can't die. Not yet.

Hop's hand shoots to his belt, hoping against hope that the ball his fumbling fingers have managed to get a grip on is the right one, and presses the button before launching it upward.

Corviknight shrieks, appearing with a flash of light, and gives a single, stabilising flap of his wings before diving down at a breakneck speed. They've never done this before, and Hop isn't sure he's ever truly considered doing so before, but it's the only chance he has.

He lands hard on Corviknight's back, gritting his teeth as his hands grip hard on his feathers, silently apologising to Corviknight for the discomfort he's surely causing. Hop clamps his eye shut and whimpers as he realises how quickly they're still plummeting, and his stomach lurches as Corviknight just about manages to pull up before they slam directly into Ballonlea's streets.

Corviknight lands them both gently enough, and Hop whispers a quiet thank you before taking off sprinting towards the stadium. Ballonlea's streets are empty by now, the entire town bathed in an eerie purple glow—psychic terrain having blended with dynamax energy, all combining into something so thick that Hop can practically taste it.

The automatic doors of the stadium feel like they're opening in slow motion as Hop bounds through them, his lungs screaming for reprieve, his brain already feeling like it's turning to mush. He doesn't know how anyone could have survived so long so close to the epicentre of it all.

He swallows down that thought before it can truly take root, an easy task with how unfocused his mind feels.

As Hop stumbles into the stadium's lobby, he spots a white-haired girl, whose eyes widen. "Oh, Arceus, it's you, please tell me you can help," she says, her voice sounding pained, and Hop barely manages a nod before she's sprinting off. "I'll drop the shielding, but you need to help him!"

Hop doesn't question how she seems to know him, even though he has no idea who she is, and thanks every god he can think of that Ballonlea stadium's layout is the same as all of the others as he runs through its halls, finally reaching the locker rooms and running out onto the pitch.

A deafening screech sounds out as his feet meet turf, and Hop finally hesitates for the briefest of moments as he takes in the sight of Hatterene, feels the sheer amount of psychic energy practically emanating from her, like needles piercing his mind.

And then he sees Bede fall to a single knee as Gardevoir faints, sees how he doesn't even have enough energy left to return her to her ball, and the hesitation melts away like it was never there.

"Corviknight, go!" he shouts, his fingers already wrapping around another pokéball, because if Hatterene isn't going to play fair, then neither will he.

Corviknight swoops up, swiping a Steel Wing across Hatterene's face, eliciting an aggravated hiss from her. A super effective hit, but it doesn't do as much as Hop would like, considering she's the size of a bloody skyscraper.

"Do what you can..." he murmurs under his breath as he releases Cinderace from her ball, so quiet that she probably couldn't hear him, but it doesn't matter. He knows she'll do everything she can anyway. He's quickly proven right as Cinderace lets out a battle cry, booting a Pyro Ball straight towards Hatterene.

His dynamax band is practically screaming to be used, and while it would definitely be useful, he wouldn't dare risk such a thing now, not when something has clearly gone so terribly wrong here.

Lucky for him, he has something better.

He grasps Zacian's ball, no words needed as he throws it forward, and Zacian charges, paws pounding against the turf before slashing forward with her Behemoth Blade. The attack connects, and Hatterene lets out a shrill shriek.

But it still isn't enough.

Hatterene screams, and it's as if the stars themselves are falling from the sky, pounding hard into the earth across the entire stadium. Corviknight and Cinderace are sent tumbling, and Hop knows that, just like that, they're both out for the count. That's the last conscious thought he gets to form before the shockwave of the attack hits him, a pained sound escaping his lips as all of the air gets knocked out of his lungs.

Terror suddenly overcomes Hop's entire being, not only for himself, but also for Bede, who has already somehow managed to hold on so long against Hatterene's onslaught. With a shuddering breath, he pulls himself back up to his feet, his terror only intensifying as Hatterene visibly gears up for another attack, now aimed directly towards him.

And Hop freezes, completely paralysed. Zacian, while still in the fight, was knocked far away by Haterene's first attack, and it has left him unprotected and out in the open. Hop realises in that moment that he's lost, that it's all over, that he's going to—

"Mawile, Iron Head!"

Hop gasps as he hears Bede's voice from behind him, raspy and rough, and he can barely react before Mawile charges past him, slamming hard into Hatterene and interrupting her attack. It isn't enough, but it does buy them time, enough time for Zacian to bound forward once again and slash with the Crowned Sword and—

An explosion rocks the entire stadium, the very earth quaking beneath them, followed by another explosion, and another.

And Hatterene falls, shrinking back down to her original size as she faints.

Hop's ears are ringing, his whole body aching as he falls to his knees, finally able to breathe for the first time since he arrived in Ballonlea. He turns his head, and sees Ballonlea's trainers sprinting onto the pitch with terrified-looking expressions on their faces. He sees Lee and Charizard, overtaking them all as they both charge towards him.

And he sees Bede, his eyes foggy and unfocused, mud from displaced turf smeared over his uniform and face, collapse to the floor.

A tray clatters as it gets dropped too harshly onto a surface, and the evidently metal instruments harshly clang together. A rhythmic, repetitive beeping is sounding out, and there are two pairs of footsteps shuffling around the room, chattering away in low voices.

It's all rather quite annoying.

When Bede opens his eyes, and then his mouth to say as such, he coughs hard, all too undignified for his tastes, but his throat feels as if he went on a trip to Stow-on-Side and started swallowing sand for fun, and his head feels like—

Eugh. Coherent thoughts hurt, Bede quickly finds.

The women, whom he can now quite visibly see are nurses, gasp; evidently quite surprised that he's awake. Which is rather alarming, if Bede is being perfectly honest, though what's more alarming is that he appears to be in a hospital bed in the first place. One of the nurses tells the other to get a drink, hopefully for him. It'd be quite rude of them to get a drink for themselves and not for him, Bede thinks.

Arceus, his head hurts.

The remaining nurse smiles at him politely as she waits, and he wilts slightly under her gaze. He's never particularly enjoyed the sensation of being watched, remembers how he found it difficult not to squirm back at the orphanage when the adults parsing through orphans like products on a shelf would eventually turn their eyes to him.

He'd like to excuse himself from the situation, as is tradition by now, but the IV drip connected to his arm tells him that it might not be the best idea.

Choosing to do his best not to dwell too much on the fact that there's currently a tube stabbed into him, Bede distracts himself by trying to remember exactly why he's in a hospital bed.

And promptly comes up short.

Surely there's a reasonable explanation for that little tidbit, he thinks as he turns his head to his left. A divider blocks his view of the window, but he's confident that it is currently dark out there; a pink glow coming in. Which means the light is either from the mushrooms of the Tangle, or from the neon signs of Spikemuth.

He's sure his preference need not be said.

The other nurse returns, and Bede mouths a silent thank you when he's handed a large glass of water and told to take small sips. Bede is happy to oblige, because his throat feels so rough that he doesn't think he could manage any substantial swallows if he tried.

An uneasy feeling starts to settle in Bede's gut that he's quite sure isn't just the water. Given his lack of memory about what has happened, and the surprise of the nurses when he awoke, it's very possible that he's been out for quite a while. Has it been weeks? Months? He daren't allow himself to think any more of it than that, the idea of having lost a substantial part of his life making him feel rather unwell. He may look like an old hermit right now for all he knows.

With his glass of water half-drained, Bede decides to just bite the bullet, rip off the plaster, and opens his mouth to attempt to speak again, voice still extremely raspy. "How long was I out for?"

Left nurse jolts, as if she hadn't expected the question, but her expression quickly normalises as she pulls out an old-looking pocket watch from her pocket. Ah, that confirms he's in Ballonlea at least, if the pleasant enough bedside manner of the nurses hadn't already functionally confirmed it. He feels slightly shoddy for not recognising them because he truly does do his best to at least slightly get to know all of Ballonlea's residents. It's the least he can do as their Gym Leader.

After checking the watch for a brief moment—"Eleven hours," the nurse chirps, a bright smile on her face as she places the watch back into her pocket.

Oh. Well, now he feels a fool for worrying so much. This was merely a glorified night's sleep.

Now that he seems to be in working-enough order, the nurses choose to frankly bombard him with a seemingly endless amount of questions—a wellness test of sorts, Bede assumes; one that he doesn't feel like he's performing especially well in, given his inability to answer some of the questions, his most recent memories a complete blur. While he most definitely dreads the answer to many of them, Bede chooses to ask his own questions, because he's already growing impatient with being in the dark. "What happened—"

He pauses when he hears a commotion from outside the room, and a few seconds later, the door gets pushed open so hard that he's surprised it doesn't come off of its hinges.

"E-err! I'm Professor Sonia's assistant! Here on... super important professor business on her behalf!"

"And uh! Ex-champion also coming through! On ex-champion business, on behalf of, err... me!"

Quite quickly, Bede's splitting headache promotes itself to a full migraine.

After around a minute of shuddering through the waves of pain within his skull, he turns back, two pairs of wide, concerned-looking golden eyes meeting his. It appears that, for whatever reason, the nurses actually decided to allow the barbarians through the gates. Bede's breath hitches as he looks specifically to Hop, but...

He's glad to see him.

He doesn't know what the other one is doing here, though.

"May we use our indoor voices, please?" Bede says, weaker than he'd intended, but who can blame him, given the circumstances?

Hop's mouth hangs open slightly before nodding, practically bowing. "Yes, sorry..." he whispers, far too formal, far too apologetic, and far too quiet that it actually hurts Bede's brain more to try to listen to it.

"Just... speak normally." Bede averts his gaze, looking towards the window out of... shame? Anxiety? Dread? All very likely possibilities, none of which even somewhat pleasant. "You are alright, I trust?" he says quietly, and Hop lets out an incredulous-sounding snort.

"You're the one in a hospital bed, mate," he says, and when Bede turns, he sees an easy smile on Hop's face, one that makes Bede think that, for whatever reason, Hop might just be happy to see him as well, but it quickly drops. "Are... are you okay?" His head swivels around, seemingly looking for a nurse to give a more definitive answer than he can likely provide, as if he and his brother didn't just practically shoo them away.

Bede sighs. "I'm..." Is he fine? He feels terrible, but the demeanour of the nurses suggested to him that he isn't about to drop dead, at the very least. There's just this insufferable fog plaguing his mind. "I do have quite the headache," he admits with a wave of his hand.

"Right, right, yeah! I'm not surprised after..." Hop trails off, averting his gaze, and Bede gets the feeling that he nearly said something that he, for whatever reason, is not supposed to say.

"After what—"

"So, Bede! How are things?"

Leon sticks out his hand towards him, and while Bede is aware that such a motion is usually a request for a handshake, his brain struggles to make that connection, and he simply blinks down towards the outstretched hand in front of him.

"Wh—huh?" is all that comes out of Bede's lips, a sound that he's confident that he's never made in his entire life, probably because he's never been so utterly flabbergasted in his entire life.

"Oh, y'know, it's just been a while since we've caught up!" Leon chirps, pulling back to instead put both hands on his hips with a confident nod, as if they've ever caught up, or ever even said more than the absolute bare minimum to each other.

Bede shrinks even more. Is this a test? Perhaps the nurses simply told him to ask some more questions in their stead. His brain had been doing its best not to split into two when the two brothers first entered, so he missed whatever brief conversation they surely had with the nurses before they left.

“I’m… I’m well?” he says, realising quite quickly that it's a strange thing to say given his current predicament. The sudden realisation that Leon has likely heard of everything that happened at the family dinner in Postwick suddenly hits him, and he really, really would rather be anywhere else in the region right now. Even Spikemuth, Arceus please just send him to Spikemuth as long as it means not being here.

"Good, good!" Leon says awkwardly, looking far too uncomfortable himself if his plan is to smother him with a pillow. "So... fairy types, amiright—"

“Lee, can you please stop before you give me an aneurysm?”

Leon turns, blinking dumbly towards Hop. "I don't think I know what that is."

“It’s—“ Hop pinches the bridge of his nose. “Can this wait ‘til later? Please?”

Leon's head tilts back and forth between them, then grins. "Ohh... of course, Hopscotch!" He takes one big, dramatic step back, covering quite the distance given his height, though Bede notices for the first time that Hop is actually the taller of the two brothers these days. He's not sure when was the last time he even saw them side by side.

Why the bloody hell is Leon even here, what is happening. Did he and Leon get into a fight? And did he apparently get hit so hard that he got a concussion along with a healthy dose of short-term memory loss?

Hop huffs as he gives his brother a strange look, and the sight, combined with his height, makes him look the elder of the two. Then, he turns back to Bede. “So, are you… alright?”

“You asked me that already,” Bede says flatly, because he doesn’t even know what happened to leave him so bloody bedridden in the first place.

“Right, right, so I did!” Hop lets out a forced-sounding laugh, and the sound makes it abundantly clear to Bede just how much unfinished business there is between them.

A strange part of Bede is glad for it, had thought that things were very much finished between them already. He'd felt a sense of finality when he'd walked back along Route 1 in the pouring rain, but perhaps things are never so simple. In either case, as much as he'd like it all settled in some capacity, no matter what form that ends up being, there are quite sadly more pressing matters at the moment.

"Why exactly am I in the hospital?" Bede finally gets to ask, and it isn't until the words have left his mouth, impossible to take back, that he realises just how much he fears the answer.

"Err, well..." Hop squirms, not seeming as surprised by his memory loss as Bede had been expecting. "One thing at a time, mate, yeah?" he says, putting on a big smile that Bede is getting better at being able to tell is forced. Though, it might be being forced for his sake, rather than his own, for the first time. "What's... the last thing you remember?"

Bede lets out a low hum, wincing as the pain in his head intensifies just a little bit. It's uncomfortable, disconcerting having experienced something, something that apparently put him in hospital nonetheless, and not at all remembering it. "I'm afraid... I remember little other than my morning routine."

He swallows. He doesn't like this, doesn't like this one bit, can't help but feel a sense of utter dread deep within his gut—

"That's good!" Hop says soothingly, and Bede wonders if this is the demeanour he holds while nursing injured pokémon back to health. "Something's better than nothing, innit?"

Bede frowns, unsure if he especially agrees with the logic. "Can we cut to the chase, please? I'd rather quite like to know why I'm here, why my head hurts, and especially why I don't remember a bloody thing." He blows away some hair that had come to sit quite uncomfortably on his sweaty forehead. "I swear to Arceus, if Gwyn's Grimmsnarl managed to hit me again—"

"No, no, nothing like that!" Hop says, but the way he winces makes Bede feel like he's more hot than he is cold. Bede scoffs.

"Really, I—" He pauses as his hands drift down to where his belt would be, having been unsurprisingly removed, then huffs. "Where are my Pokémon?" he asks. He'd like to make sure that they are okay, at least, and he holds no shame for seeking his comfort in such a situation.

"You don't need to worry about them!" Hop says in a way that makes Bede worry about them more than he ever has. "They're chilling out in the pokémon centre, all perfectly fine!"

Not bloody likely, Bede thinks. He never has his pokémon stay there for any longer than absolutely necessary. Sylveon doesn't like to be away from him for long, and don't even get him started on Hatterene—

Red clouds storm overhead, and Bede's nose is overwhelmed by the sheer stink of dynamax energy. He hears a shriek so piercing that it physically bounces within the confines of his mind, and all he can do is watch as his team is whittled down by the uncontrollable wrath of his very first pokémon, his darling Hatterene, the shadow he's always felt looming behind her feeling more visible than it ever has.

"Bede, stay with me!"

He's crying, he thinks. There's something trailing down his cheeks, his chest constricting in a way that makes it impossible to breathe. There's a constant, squeezing pressure, almost crushing his hand, but somehow it's all barely registering, completely overwhelmed by the sounds of screams, by feelings of terror, of anger, of guilt, and—

"Heya Bede, would you like to train with me at the Battle Tower sometime?"

And hearing those words from Leon's mouth brings Bede straight back down to earth.

He coughs, and if he thought he seemed undignified before, it's nothing compared to how he must look now, droplets of spit dripping from his lip.

"You're alright, you're okay..." Hop practically chants as he takes in deep, even breaths, and Bede instinctively follows along, his rapidly beating heart normalising, slowly but surely. Relatively, at least.

Further evidence that Hop doesn't despise him as much as he'd expected, Bede supposes.

"Is she alright?" Bede bites out, because if she isn't—

"She's fine," Hop reassures quietly. "To say that she's a bit miffed would be an understatement, but she's safely tucked away in her ball."

Bede nods. It is imperative that he gets out of here as soon as possible then, because he refuses to have her away from him a second more. Perhaps he should fear her, after what happened. Perhaps the thought of her towering over him the way she had should open up a pit within his gut.

But he knows that she's perhaps the biggest victim of all.

"And Lady Opal?" he says, surprising himself with his own formality. He always gets like this when he's scared about her, he thinks.

"Everyone is alright," Hop says firmly. "And to say that she's also miffed with you might be an even more of an understatement," he says with a weak-looking grin.

Cripes. Perhaps he should stay here as long as possible after all.

"Do you... remember everything now?" Hop asks tentatively, and Bede lets out a small, quiet exhale.

"I remember... a strange feeling in the air all day," he says, and Hop's eyes gleam slightly with what must be barely-contained academic curiosity. "Something strange happened with the power spot, I suppose?"

Hop nods. "We... we think so," he says, though his lack of confidence tells Bede that whatever investigation is occurring isn't especially far along. "What's alarming is that it happened in so many places at once."

Bede's eyes widen, because if he's been spending the last however long feeling sorry for himself when people are actually hurt—

"Nobody's hurt!" Hop says, hands out in front of him, sounding as if he's starting to get a bit weary of saying such a thing, even though it's his fault for repeatedly drip-feeding him information.

Deep breaths, Bede.

"Things got a bit bad in Wyndon, but Glo had it handled," Hop continues, and as much as Bede would never even dare to underestimate her capabilities in battle, it's definitely still good to hear that she is healthy. "Everywhere else was mostly fine, since their dynamaxed pokémon weren't..." He trails off, pursing his lips.

They weren't Hatterene, Bede finishes in his mind. She's not known as one of the meanest witches of the region for nothing, and that's before taking her ability to gigantamax into consideration.

Bede runs a hand through his hair. Why is Hop even here? He understands, to an extent, but the way he and Leon rushed suggests they'd been specifically waiting—

He suddenly remembers the very end, something that can't even truly be called a memory, when his mind was barely capable of conscious thought by that point, Hatterene's unrestrained psychic power too overwhelming. Faintly, he thinks he remembers seeing a wolf, with a sword in its maw.

"You saved me," he says dumbly, only fully registering the thought as the words exit his mouth.

Hop scratches the back of his neck. "Aww, it weren't much of anything," he says as he looks away. "And..." He wets his lips as he looks to Bede meaningfully. "You... saved me, as well."

Bede's brow furrows in thought. Had he...? He most certainly doesn't remember that, everything directly after Hop's arrival being so fuzzy that Bede felt safe to assume that he'd simply passed out shortly after. Hop chuckles, clearly sensing his disbelief.

"I'm being serious. You had Mawile give Hatterene a proper wallop for me," he says with a grin.

"Do not speak of walloping my dearest Hatterene." What little Bede does remember of the standoff is that he was very intent on remaining on the defensive, partially to buy as much time as possible, and partially because he couldn't bear the thought of truly harming Hatterene. He's perhaps slightly ashamed to admit that he has performed very little research into the dynamax phenomenon, the spontaneous and wild sort especially. It's a concept he'd much rather keep in the past, and the gap in his knowledge left him unwilling to play with fire.

But, he supposes... if Hop was truly in danger, true danger, he can perhaps imagine himself taking the risk.

A heavy silence settles between them, thick and suffocating. What right does he have to worry over Hop's safety anyway, after the stunt he pulled back in Postwick? The idle sounds of the hospital continue, suddenly overwhelming in the quiet as an apology sits on Bede's tongue, struggling to truly form until eventually...

"I'm—"

"I'm sorry!"

Bede blinks, because why is Hop the one saying that to him?

"I-I was proper out of order shouting at you so hard, and I'm rotten, so, so rotten for saying the things I did." By the time Hop is finished, he's clamped his eyes shut and lets out a sniffle before turning away.

"Don't be a fool," Bede says quietly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I shouldn't have involved myself in something that I quite obviously don't understand." Hop was right to say that he doesn't know anything about family, and it was idiotic of him to pretend that he did.

"I think..." Hop swallows heavily before turning back his head and looking towards Leon. "I think you might have understood more than anyone else ever has, if I'm being honest, mate."

Bede follows Hop's gaze, to Leon sitting in one of the chairs on the other side of the ward, clearly lost in his own little world as he watches what must be a battle of some sort on his phone. Whether he is simply ignorant to the world, or is very purposefully giving them space, Bede isn't sure.

It seems like being difficult to read runs in the family.

"Still..." Bede starts quietly. "It doesn't excuse the way I... voiced my displeasure." He immediately cringes at his own wording, suddenly deeply weary of his tendency to dance around things.

Hop lets out a small, dry-sounding laugh. "Ain't gonna get much disagreement from me there, mate." He runs a hand through his hair. "I wish you'd at least... spoken to me first about it," he says, and Bede lets out a slow exhale through his nose.

He thinks a part of him thought they already had in their conversation back in the garden, that Hop had at least given him an opening to be concerned, but Bede knows that he went far, far too ahead of himself. "I was just... so angry with how they were treating you," he admits, even though his anger is something he's still so deeply ashamed of, a ghost of his childhood that seemingly refuses to stop rearing its ugly head. "It wasn't right."

Hop lets out a small exhale through his nose, a frown on his face as his gaze drifts to the floor. Bede stifles any temptation to continue, perfectly capable of being able to tell that Hop does not want to talk about it.

Bede's eyes drift back to Leon, who, as much as he's trying to keep his face neutral, has unfocused eyes trained to his phone, a clear sign of someone who is definitely listening.

Unfinished business between them as well, Bede would guess.

He swallows. "You weren't rotten," he says quietly as he looks down to his lap. "You were right to say that I don't understand what it's like to be... bound to people in such a way." He's happy to have what he has, but he's deeply hesitant to even begin to consider such disparate affections to be family.

Hop's brows knit into a frown, and he brings his arms around his chest. "Don't pretend that what I said didn't hurt you, mate," he says, voice gravelly. "And I don't think I was trying to say much of anything. Was just trying to hurt you 'cause I was upset."

And oh, doesn't Bede understand that idea very well.

"I forgive you," he says, before he can even think it, the words coming far easier to his tongue than he ever would have expected, and Hop's eyes widen into saucers. "I'm not especially intent on returning to bickering with you after having done so for years."

"But—"

"Quiet," Bede interrupts, letting out a small breath through his nose when Hop obliges. "You have already forgiven me for plenty. Allow me to do the same, especially since you weren't completely unjustified in your..." He trails off, pursing his lips.

Hop leers down at him. "It wasn't justified," he insists, and Bede rolls his eyes. Seems he isn't going to let this one go.

"Fine. It wasn't." Bede sighs heavily, running a sweaty hand through his hair. "But I forgive you anyway. Least of all, considering it seems you've saved my life."

"Told you it was nothing..." Hop murmurs quietly.

Bede sniffs, then his eyes turn focused. If he wasn't feeling himself before, he is now. "So what happened? Why did—" He cuts himself off with a huff. He can't even bear to say it, how such a horrible thing happened to his dear Hatterene. He's unsure if what happened was at all his own fault, but he feels like he'll be making it up to her for his entire life.

In either case, he needs to know why. And make sure that it never happens again.

Despite his vague words, Hop squirms, clearly understanding exactly what it is that Bede is asking, and also clearly not having anywhere near enough of an answer to satisfy him. "We're..." He trails off, pursing his lips for a moment before looking to Bede more decisively. "We're looking into it. Me and Sonia." He rolls his shoulders. "Technically ain't our wheelhouse, but we'll do our best."

Bede narrows his eyes. Whatever looking into it means, it doesn't sound especially official. "And so what is the League doing? I can't imagine this has been good publicity for them," he says, and Hop pulls a face.

"Absolute disaster, yeah," he says quietly. "It's still early days, but people ain't happy. Don't think anyone needed the reminder of..." He looks away, his arms wrapping around his shoulders as his eyes land on the purple glow of the mushrooms outside, a colour that feels far too close to something else for comfort. "The League is sending their own team of researchers about, ones more specialised in dynamax stuff since neither me nor Sonia have much of a taste for it."

It isn't the first time Bede has heard of it, though Sonia hadn't quite worded it as such. She has spoken to him before about Hop having an aversion to the dynamax phenomenon, and that she delegates as much of the research work pertaining to it elsewhere as she can. Not that Bede cared much about anything pertaining to Hop back then. Perhaps they should have bonded over such a thing far sooner.

Still, Bede's nose scrunches. He can't say he's eager to allow for a group of the League's people to stomp around Ballonlea, doing Arceus knows what. Frankly, the first thing he wants to do now is go the way of Spikemuth and have Ballonlea's power spot removed completely, but the endless bureaucracy will be far more difficult to deal with compared to Piers' decision to never have one created in the first place.

Hop catches his expression and smiles, tilting his head. "Come on. What's the worst that can happen?" he says, his smile quickly dropping as he surely realises that plenty can go wrong, given the horror that has already occurred. "Fine, but just... best be cooperative, yeah?" he eventually says, and Bede narrows his eyes.

"Are you suggesting that I'm uncooperative?" he says, a far too dangerous gleam in his eyes for someone currently tied to a hospital bed, surely looking more weak and sickly than he ever has.

He feels as such, at the very least.

Hop snickers into his palm. "You've got a bit of a history of not being very cooperative when the journalists come around, is all I'm saying."

Bede scowls. "Paparazzi, you mean. I'm very generous with my time with people who actually matter."

Hop is silent for a few moments, a faraway look in his eyes as he crosses his arms and lets out a low hum. "Yeah... s'pose you are."

Silence overcomes them once again. It's difficult maintaining a conversation from a hospital bed, Bede finds. Least of all with someone he has so much baggage with that it's a struggle to carry even when he isn't of such ill-health.

Hop looks to the door. "Err... think the nurses still want a proper look at you," he says, the slightest conspiratorial gleam in his eyes making it abundantly clear that he's well aware of just how much of an interruption his presence is.

Bede rolls his eyes, but he's unable to suppress his... tragically affectionate smirk. "You're trouble, professor," he drawls with a flippant wave of his hand, and Hop freezes, eyes narrowed slightly as he sends Bede a strange look.

"Not quite a professor just yet, Bede," he says, and Bede hums.

"Not yet. But you will be one day."

Hop swallows, then gives a couple of nods. "Yeah..." He takes a deep breath. "Thanks, Bede," he says, and Bede silently waves him off.

He's simply stating a fact. Whether his stupid family believe in him or not.

"You're leaving then?" Bede says, doing his best to hide how much he'd prefer the exact opposite, and Hop lets out a hum of affirmation.

"Mm. We'll give you some peace and quiet," he says, and Bede is unsure if such a thing is especially likely when he's likely about to get poked with various medical instruments very shortly. "C'mon, Lee." Hop moves towards the door before hesitating, his shoes scuffing against the tile below. "So... friends, yeah?"

Bede blinks, the idea of such creating a strange mixture of relief and melancholy all in one, and he lets out a small breath.

"Friends," he echoes, well aware that he's lucky to even be able to have this much.

Hop grins, looking more pleased than Bede feels. "Alright, get well soon, Bede!" he says before giving a small wave, motioning for his brother to follow as he exits the ward.

But Leon lingers.

Bede can see how Leon's face drops as he stops near the door, before looking to Bede properly, tilting his head as if analysing him. Bede squirms under the intensity of it all. Maybe Leon really does want to smother him with a pillow, he just needed the privacy to do so, had to wait until Hop was—

"Hey."

Bede blinks. Leon keeps doing that. Trying to start... conversation. Bede doesn't understand it. He just stares blankly as Leon gives a hearty roll of his shoulders.

"So, really... how've things been with you?" he asks, and if Bede is being perfectly honest, this whole charade is quickly starting to make him feel less uncomfortable, and more annoyed.

"If there is something you'd like to say, I'd prefer if you just said it," Bede says, then presses his lips together. He's never had a pleasant interaction with this man in his entire life, so he finds little reason to start now.

And Bede catches it, the slightest flicker of mirrored frustration in Leon's eyes before it's quickly blinked away, as if it had never been there in the first place.

Typical.

Leon crosses his arms, whatever mask he so frequently wears having at least been dropped slightly. "Just wanted a quick chat about what happened at our house in Postwick," he says, his voice decidedly neutral, and Bede swallows down the urge to tell him that it hasn't been his house in a very, very long time.

"If you expect me to—" Bede bites down softly on his tongue to silence himself. He doesn't need to be nice, but he finds little need for active hostility right now. "I meant what I said. Think of me how you will," he says instead, and his hand moves down to the mattress beneath him, rubbing circles into the fabric with his thumb. "All I regret is how I did it, and how I treated your brother afterwards."

He can't bear to look directly to Leon, not right now. Not ever, really, he quickly realises. Every encounter with the man, every time he's seen him outside of the television, has made him feel decidedly uncomfortable, and today is no different, even if his reasons for feeling such a way have changed significantly over the years.

"Good."

Bede jolts, finally looking up. Leon's expression is serious, and Bede sees a sense of clarity within his golden eyes.

"Hop needs someone who'll stick up for him, who isn't afraid to speak their mind. I think..." He purses his lips before sighing and looking away. "I think we all have some making up to do."

And Bede wants to sneer, because Leon's words feel an awful lot like they include him in that, but...

Maybe they do.

Maybe he still does.

"So... just wanted to say thank you for being there for him," Leon continues, and the lack of real positivity in his tone gives Bede the impression that he doesn't truly forgive him for his misgivings against Hop back in the Gym Challenge, nor for everything after.

Which is fine, Bede thinks. He's not sure he forgives Leon for everything either.

"You could be there for him as well," he replies pointedly. One of the most enlightening realisations of his life is that the best thing he can do to make up for his previously poor behaviour is to truly do his best to fix things.

Leon hesitates, his usual proud posture shrinking to something almost scolded, before he gives a decisive nod. "I will," he says, and the words sound like a promise to him, even though Bede isn't sure it's him who should be hearing such a promise.

Still, a level of understanding flickers within Bede's mind.

"Then I shall continue to do so as well." Even if his greedy desires for more, more, more have subsided little in the thick of a storm such as this, he knows there's little time for anything like that now.

And Leon smiles.

It isn't like on the TV. Isn't like the one in the interviews, on the pitch, or even at the gatherings. It doesn't beam, doesn't practically shine in the light.

It looks... sad.

Bede doesn't know why a glimmer of something akin to concern blooms in his chest. Perhaps he really is growing soft in his old age. He sniffs, looking anywhere else. "Thank you," he says. "For helping me when I..."

"Don't worry about it. I know what it's like."

The comment immediately stirs a familiar anger within him, a dismissive comment bubbling on his tongue because how could he possibly know what it's like? But when he sees the faraway, dull look in Leon's eyes, the words dissolve before they can take form. Because he can tell.

He knows what it's like.

So Bede just hums, wondering just how much Leon saw that day. Just how responsible he must feel.

Another conversation for another time, perhaps.

"Alright," Leon says, stretching his arms above his head as if finally allowing himself to relax slightly. "I'll get out of your hair, but I'll keep in touch, 'kay?"

And Bede wants to hiss that he should be keeping more in touch with his stupid brother instead of him, but pauses when...

Leon hands him a business card.

It's an unsurprising red and purple, the silhouette of what was once Rose Tower in the background, and a photo of Leon pulling some unfamiliar pose that must not have taken off in the wake of his loss of his champion status. Bede's eyes look to the number written along the bottom. At least this one is probably actually his and not his stupid secretary's, he thinks bitterly.

By the time Bede looks back up, Leon is gone.

With a huff, he lays his head back against his pillow as his pounding headache returns, the only evidence that he didn't just hallucinate that entire conversation being the sensation of the card still between his fingers.

Hop drums his hands impatiently against the wall behind him before he loses his patience waiting. Admittedly, that only took about ten seconds, but still, how long does it take to open a bloody door?

He sighs, approaching the vending machine in the lobby, and squints as he checks the prices. Arceus, he really needs to get his eyes checked. He thinks he can afford a lemonade, so he inputs his money and what he believes to be the code.

A can of lemonade drops down, and a second one immediately tumbles down after it.

Ace.

Looking briefly over his shoulder to make sure no one is observing his accidental theft, Hop swipes both cans and takes a seat, opening one and beginning to idly swirl the liquid within.

It's eerie here, Hop thinks. The sun hasn't even gone down yet, but that doesn't matter much in the constant state of twilight Ballonlea is in, and he can't say he's much of a fan of hospitals in the first place, let alone ones as deserted as this.

It's disconcerting being in Ballonlea at all, after everything.

It takes a short while, long enough that Hop starts to consider the genuine possibility that Lee managed to get lost in a building that really is far more a clinic than it is a hospital, when he finally arrives with a small pep in his step.

"Do I need to check that you didn't smother him with a pillow?" Hop says flatly. He can't imagine any sort of conversation he and Bede just had that would have Lee leaving looking this pleased with himself.

Lee coughs into his elbow. Or chokes, Hop isn't quite sure. "No! No smothering. Just a... real heart-to-heart between friends!" he says, and Hop leers at him, having never been convinced less by anything in his entire life. Lee winces, then puts out his hands in front of him. "Fine! Fine..." he starts. "Just... told him pretty much what I told you. That I'm glad that he stuck up for you."

Hop winces, avoiding eye contact as he sits back into his seat. He and Lee have a lot of things that still need to be said, and he thinks they've both heavily avoided saying them in the wake of what happened in the last day. Lee takes a seat to his right, and Hop silently hands over the other can of lemonade.

"Oh, uh. Cheers," Lee says, cracking it open and taking a timid sip. Hop can't help the incredulous shake of his head. It's the most normal he's seen Lee in a long time, drinking a can of pop in a hospital lobby, the two of them utterly sleep deprived.

Because Leon isn't around. Pretty much ever.

But Hop doesn't feel up for it right now. He was stressed out of his mind to the point of sobbing on the lab floor just yesterday, and that was before Bede nearly died, along with possibly everyone else in Ballonlea had Bede not held the line for as long as he did.

Hop's chest tightens. It's a miracle Bede's brain isn't completely fried. If he hadn't surely had so much experience with dealing with a Hatterene, maybe even with his Hatterene specifically...

He doesn't want to think about it. He needs to sleep before his body makes the decision for him.

Still, there's just one last loose end that needs to be tied up.

"So, about that Lapras..." Hop starts quietly, rubbing idly at his eyes. "Can you do... next week?"

Lee's eyes widen, and he looks like he's thinking about it for a brief moment before a harsh scowl flickers across his face, gone as quickly as it came. "'Course, Hopscotch. Whenever is best for you, I'll make the time."

Hop's stomach churns. He feels like he's upset Lee somehow, but he doesn't really know what he did. "Alright, well..." It's technically work, even though they both know it isn't. He wants it over as soon as possible. "This weekend, then? I know I said next week, but—"

"Got it," Lee says with a grin that feels too put on for his sake for Hop's tastes. "We can head out early on Saturday," he says, and Hop bites down on his tongue, wincing internally. Lee seems to catch it, his smile softening to something more genuine. "We can head out not early on Saturday, then."

Hop smirks. He doesn't know what he'd do without his precious lie-in on a Saturday. At least Lee knows that much. He drains his can of lemonade, standing to go to the bin when Lee hands his own can over, averting his gaze as Hop realises that it's still completely full.

Does Lee not like lemonade? Hop definitely didn't know that.

The thought sits uncomfortably in his gut.

"Well..." Hop starts. "I'm gonna head home now, okay?"

Lee gives a big nod. "Stay safe. S'far to Postwick," he says, and Hop snorts.

"Says the bloke who flew between there and here in less than half an hour like a lunatic. Expect a speeding ticket in the post," Hop says, hoping the subtle thank you that he's hiding in his words comes through clear. "'Sides, Wyndon is further."

"Heading to Hammerlocke, actually," Lee says quietly, apprehension clear on his face. "Stay with Rai for a bit."

Hop's eyes widen briefly, before nodding. He hopes a bit means more than a day before going back to his tower, for Rai's sake at the very least.

They say their final goodbyes, and Hop steps out into the cool, damp air of Ballonlea. It isn't far to the plaza where he can take a cab home, but there's been a persistent, decidedly impatient rumbling coming from his belt since yesterday.

Well... maybe it's been going on for even longer than that. Either way, he has one last thing he'd like to do before he leaves.

With a sigh, he releases Dubwool from his ball, and while he really does do his best to plant his feet and hold his ground, he should have known that was a lost cause. Luckily, the warm softness in front of him makes up for the unpleasant sensation of him getting forced into the wall behind him.

"Heya, Dubwool..." he murmurs. Dubwool has been annoyed with him for quite a while now, and—

Concerned, not annoyed, he internally corrects himself. And not without reason, he's well aware. Dubwool lets out a disgruntled huff through his nose, not too dissimilar to the way Lee's Charizard does, though Hop doesn't think it's on purpose this time.

"C'mon, big guy. You're not a little Wooloo anymore, you know that," Hop says, hoping his silent message that he's getting crushed doesn't go unnoticed, but Dubwool just huffs again, trying to get impossibly closer. Hop sighs. He's going to have to resort to drastic measures. "I'll let you sleep on the bed with me tonight if you let me go, yeah?" he ventures, and although Mum hates Dubwool being inside, he's not feeling especially obedient tonight so he doesn't really care.

There's a gleam in Dubwool's eyes as he looks up, something that tells Hop that he's tempted, but it isn't enough, Dubwool continuing to press him against the wall.

Hop rolls his eyes and presses his lips together. "And..." He swallows. "I'll try to look after myself better, okay?"

And that causes Dubwool to let him go. Hop lets out a small groan. He loves Dubwool, of course he does, but he prefers when their cuddles are a bit more two-sided than what just happened.

Still, he can't be too annoyed, he thinks as he pets Dubwool on the head en route to the plaza. He's the absolute cutest, most loyal pokémon in the entire world, after all.

He internally apologises to all of his other pokémon. Zacian especially.

Once Hop has paid off the cab driver, he opens the door, his other hand moving to Dubwool's ball to return him, but Dubwool immediately jumps directly into the cab, letting out a soft bleat. Hop narrows his eyes towards Dubwool's innocent-looking ones, despite how decidedly un-innocent they both know he's being.

Then Hop just rubs at his eyes. Whatever. He's too tired to argue. Dubwool can have his way, just for tonight.

He clambers in and shuts the door behind him, barely able to keep his eyes open by now. As the cab takes off, he can't stop himself from cuddling more into Dubwool's coat. He lets out a soft exhale through his nose, uncaring of the cramped conditions as he nods off in his seat.

The Ballonlea air feels cleaner than ever when Bede steps outside, now finally considered healthy enough to leave the hospital. He's been told not to push himself and take time from the gym, and while he does have quite the reputation for overdoing things, he thinks he might take the advice, just this one time.

Least of all because his entire gym considered an entire intervention to be necessary, and that was before he was put into the hospital.

The first chance he gets, he slips around a corner for some privacy before unclasping Hatterene's pokéball from his belt, pressing his forehead against it.

Today is a day just for him and his pokémon, he thinks.

That's what he wants to do, at least, but on his way to the entrance to the Tangle proper, he sees quite the sight.

A team of people wearing white lab coats, strutting into Ballonlea as if they own the place—and at the very front stands an especially tall figure, her long blonde hair swaying slightly in the wind, and her familiarly flat green eyes immediately making contact with his.

"Ah, Bede... it's been quite some time, hasn't it?"