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Accidental travel buddies? Lyra pondered the thought while scooping curry onto serving plates—curry enough to feed two parties instead of one, because Silver was still seated across the pot from her, checking his Crobat over for any scrapes it could have gotten during that last bout of training earlier.
Crobat looked fine, anyway. It was a tough Pokémon—but even if it could handle the stress of Silver’s hard training, Silver had gotten more balanced— more gentle, she would never say aloud—over the years. Lyra saw how precise and steady Silver’s fingers worked in that moment, checking under his Crobat’s ears and around the junctions where its wings met its body. Lyra stared, then felt eyes on her—
—and found Silver cocking his head at her the moment she looked back at him. Lyra coughed into her wrist—and then into her elbow, but even doing that and glancing away did not stop the embarrassed flush from rising onto her face.
Caught.
“You know you’re coughing all over the food, right?” Silver asked her.
And a challenge. Lyra laughed, then waved a hand in his direction. “No, I’m good. I’m missing it.”
“Are you?”
“That’s what my arm says.” Lyra flapped her elbow, then snorted. “You don’t trust me? After all this time?”
“It isn’t a matter of trust,” Silver said. His voice was monotonous—a sign that Lyra might’ve been teasing him too much. “It’s a matter of keeping your germs off what I’m about to eat.”
Lyra batted her eyelashes at him. “Oh, you don’t want to share germs with me? I’m hurt.”
“You aren’t hurt,” Silver groused. Still—he propped his hand out, and Lyra handed him the plate with a smile.
And caught her next cough in her elbow.
Ugh. “The heat kills the germs,” Lyra said. “Don’t worry about it.”
Silver set his plate in his lap and—faltered into a glare. “If this is your way of telling me you’re sick—”
“I’m not! I’m not. You know me.” Lyra crossed her heart. “Scout’s honor. Not sick. It’s just a lingering cough from—” Lyra coughed into her shoulder. “—from—the weather.”
She smiled weakly. Silver frowned.
“It’s really dry in this part of Galar,” Lyra added on.
Silver pondered that. Then he hummed and picked up his spoon. “It is.”
“It is,” Lyra said. “It very much is.”
“You’re a bad liar anyway,” Silver muttered into his rice. “It would take a lot for you to actually fool me.”
Lyra hummed a short sound. That could have— some sort of meaning, but Lyra wasn’t sure she was ready to consider that meaning in its entirety.
If he knew how she felt, after all, he could be hinting at that. But maybe Lyra was overthinking it. Certainly Silver would address something romantic from her end in a much more direct manner—
“You aren’t going to eat?” Silver asked her.
“I am! I am. You don’t have to worry about that.” Lyra scooped out curry onto a few more plates, then gave Silver’s crobat an extra scoop. “Why don’t you call the rest of your Pokémon over?”
Silver hummed, then studied his Pokémon as they practiced amongst themselves in the grass—eyeing his Feraligatr and Sneasel in particular.
“They’ll come over when they’re hungry enough,” Silver declared.
And Lyra—couldn’t find a thing wrong with that. “Fair enough. I’m letting mine know the food’s ready, anyway.”
“Fair enough,” Silver said, and something about the way he watched her now had Lyra’s cheeks flushing hot once more.
But—she ignored it, and called each of her Pokémon over, from her Typhlosion to her Ampharos, so they could choose whether or not to eat dinner with her and Silver while dinner was hot.
Which—really wasn’t beating the accidental travel buddy allegations any. It wasn’t like this was completely on purpose. Silver just—had a tendency to stay for dinner lately. And camp near her. And wander back her way or cross her path sooner rather than later after parting. It didn’t have to mean anything. They just—traveled together, sometimes.
With sometimes being more often than not lately.
Lyra did not know what to make of that. Lyra wasn’t so sure if Silver knew what to make of it either.
It had started off normally, after all—or as normal as things could get for the two of them. An accidental encounter at the Galar airport passenger loading area turned emphatic challenge from Silver. Neither of them rested, neither team prepared, yet Lyra still somehow scrounging up a victory against him. As usual.
Silver fleeing. As usual.
And yet then, after that, they met up by happenstance again the next town over. And the next one after that. And the next one, and the next one, and the next. And then somewhere along the way, all these towns later, Lyra realized that they were traveling in the same direction, and camping near enough to each other to be companionable, and taking turns perfecting easy curry recipes made with even easier ingredients for communal meals they’d never really explicitly invited each other to. And that this had been going on well into their trek through the Wild Area.
Leaving her here and now in the South Wild Area with Silver in—and yet not explicitly in—tow for the night.
Because—he wasn’t packing up like he was leaving. On the contrary—
—with the sun starting to set, Silver was setting up his sleeping bag a small ways away from Lyra’s tent. As per this new usual between them.
“I’m going to make something sweeter tomorrow,” Silver said in a direction that could have been her direction—and likely was, because she was the closest one to him at the moment. “Probably with the last of my food tins.”
Lyra hummed. “You need any ingredients?”
“No.” Silver had learned somewhere along the way not to sound too harsh during their meal planning, anyway.
And Lyra had learned not to press him with things like oh, you sure?
She rubbed at and cleared her throat with a smile instead. “Sweet. Sounds like a plan, then.”
And it was, because late the following morning, Silver handed her a plate of a more juicy curry without so much as a here or for you. They sat on her blankets and ate companionably, accompanied by their Pokémon, which didn’t surprise her and never really had surprised her, she realized.
It was just a natural evolution of whatever this—thing taking shape between them was.
Which had her thinking—well—did Silver feel it too?
Did he know?
Surely he had to know they were traveling together at least , even with the time away from each other in between the battles and the camping and all. He was smart. He was intelligent. He’d clued in on a lot about her after all these years of battling against her, and sometimes Lyra let her heart get away from her and imagine it was for reasons and not just because of their shared proximity or his desire to get the Champion titles from her.
They were kind of friends at this point, after all. Even if neither of them used that word out loud, they were friends. Ish. In a way. Especially now, what with the accidental travel buddies situation.
Lyra thought, and grunted, and cleared the gunk from her throat and—thought about how she might’ve been reading too much into this, but also might’ve not been.
Silver chose when he wanted to be somewhere else, after all.
And he chose to stay after their battles.
At the very least, Lyra could trust him to make his own decisions—and very much was prepared to tuck the matter into the back of her mind for later. She reached over to scratch at Typhlosion’s ear and everything. It was finishing its meal with delight. Things were absolutely one hundred percent normal.
Then she coughed, and felt the gunk deeper down in her throat. Which could mean nothing—
But then Silver asked her—very much out of the blue— “When are you going into town next?”
Lyra thought about it. “Not sure,” she chirped. “I can probably last another day or two before I need to restock on Poké Mart supplies.”
“I see.” Silver paused, then said, “I’ll probably see what’s available in Motostoke later today.”
“Oh,” Lyra chirped. “Have fun.”
Silver didn’t even berate her word choice; he just hummed, and, as per this new usual, again, that was that.
At least until Lyra said, “I’ll probably head over there the day after tomorrow.”
“Right.” Silver very much sounded like he meant some sort of I’ll meet you there then.
Which led, after their bit of brunch, to her and Silver making to part ways—and his typical bookends challenge for her Champion titles before he officially set off. Lyra, of course, accepted. A challenge from Silver was one of the few challenging things left in her career as Champion, after all.
They battled three on three; Lyra knocked out his Feraligatr, his Crobat, and his Gengar, while Silver knocked out her Typhlosion and nearly got her Dragonite to the brink of fainting.
Silver took the loss decently, at least. While Lyra revived her Typhlosion, Silver walked up to her, cash in hand. Lyra waved him off, though.
“Buy me a nice snack in Motostoke,” she said.
“You know you can take my money, right?” Silver muttered. “You don’t have to keep—”
But Lyra butted in as her Typhlosion butted its healed-up head against her and said, “I would rather have a fun snack from Motostoke. And maybe a max revive.”
“You—” Silver began, but—he had nowhere he was going with it. In the end, he grumbled something to himself. It sounded like, “I don’t understand you at all.”
Lyra flashed him a wide smile anyway—and ruined it with a deep cough she barely managed to cover with her forearm.
Silver stashed his cash back in his wallet and—narrowed his eyes at her when a few more coughs honked out of her. “Your cough is—”
Lyra got the urge to cough out after this next latest one, at least.
“Your cough is getting worse,” Silver said.
“What?” Lyra barely processed that. “Beg pardon?”
“Your cough,” Silver said again. “It’s getting worse. It sounded like it was coming from deep within your chest right then.”
“Oh,” Lyra chirped. “It was, yeah. That’s the morning phlegm.” She waved him off with a laugh. “Get me some cough syrup from Motostoke if you’re really worried.”
“I am not your shopping list,” Silver groused. “You can find cough syrup on your own, can’t you?”
“I can, don’t worry about it.”
“You expect me to worry?”
“You’re kind of worrying, Silver,” Lyra said. “A lot, actually. It’s kind of endearing.”
Silver gave her—some sort of stunted look. “Don’t—” Was he—? “Don’t patronize me.” Was he turning pink?
Lyra placed her palm on her mouth so as to keep the urge to point that blush out securely in her mouth.
“I won’t,” she finally got out.
Silver huffed. Silver—stuffed his wallet in his jacket pocket and went to grab his sleeping bag. He was choosing to leave, and the thought came unbidden to Lyra that she, for once, could choose to follow him on purpose instead of letting him go.
But—
Surely that would be too weird at this point. Inviting herself along? Not to mention how presumptuous that would be.
Next time, maybe. But even that thought had her frazzled a bit.
“I’m heading off,” Silver said once he had his things in tow. And after a moment’s pause, he said, in her general direction, “You’re still going to stop by Motostoke later?”
Lyra lowered her hand, at least. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a scout,” Silver said at that, like he was getting his legs back to stand on. And Lyra let him.
Lyra chuckled.
She swore Silver’s mouth twitched like he was mimicking her smile, but—he turned and started walking before she could confirm the idea one way or the other. Which was fine. They were fine.
They were absolutely within the levels of normal for them, and that was what mattered, surely.
Lyra tried not to watch too long as he walked farther away anyway, in case he—
—ah, he did look back.
Caught.
Lyra expected a visible snort, and yet all Silver did was—stare a hint too long, and stiffly wave back at her. Lyra swayed her hand back with some semblance of controlled enthusiasm.
She thought again about their travel situation. About their sort of friendship, really. Silver was trying something, and the effort—though a bit unnatural—had to mean something, right?
Lyra wanted it to mean something. Call it a bias, but she felt like she knew Silver well enough to say it did.
The days passed. Somehow, Lyra’s cough grew worse.
Then, before she knew it, things were warm—not just because of Typhlosion huddling around her—and sleeping was hard—not just because she wanted to sleep during the day—and time was an utter illusion. She fell asleep outside in her sleeping bag at some point after an unending, miserable session of deep coughing; and then she woke up—and slept—and woke up—and slept—
—and at some point, she must’ve dreamed up Silver being back and knelt beside her like that.
“What is wrong with you?” Silver asked through her haze. “You’re giving yourself a fever staying that close to Typhlosion.”
“I’m—” Lyra croaked—which only prompted a guttural cough or two. “I’m okay.”
“Are you?”
“I’m going to be, yeah.” Lyra could manifest it. She sat up—coughed, but did not dislodge any gunk from her chest—and said, “I just gotta wake up and head to town—”
She coughed into her elbow this time, at least. Her head swam blearily otherwise, though.
“—and I’m—going to sleep more, first, actually,” Lyra groused. When she went back down, Typhlosion welcomed her once more with a hum.
The next time she woke, she jolted with single minded focus for her Rotom Phone to look at the time, but also the date, given that it was daytime and she didn’t know how long she’d slept.
After all, if she’d missed her meet up time with Silver—
“You’re awake?” someone suspiciously Silver-sounding asked. And that someone turned out to be, once Lyra got a good look at him, actually Silver, sitting cross-legged and—
—and organizing his bag?
Lyra couldn’t tell what he was organizing in there, though. “When did you get here?”
“You don’t remember?” Silver drew his hand out of his bag and frowned. “You didn’t show—”
Lyra coughed deep and low, barely catching it with her forearm.
Silver pointed and snapped his fingers. “You didn’t show up because you got yourself sick. Why didn’t you come into town and get that cough checked out before it got like this?”
“A cough’s a cough?” Lyra tried.
“No, it’s not,” Silver said. A few more punched out of Lyra’s chest—but Silver went on, “It’s something that can get worse, like this, and you’re supposed to be able to take care of yourself at this age. You’re a Champion. Why did you ignore it?”
Lyra made to answer—but interrupted herself with a staggering fit of coughing. The longer it dragged on, the stiffer Silver’s faltering look got.
“Hey,” Silver said, and it was like, in his own tense kind of way, he was comforting her. “You’re going to cough your guts out if you—”
Lyra hacked a number of parched chest-coughs out. She didn't see Silver flinch, but—he paused and let her go on for a moment.
“—if you keep going on like this,” Silver finished saying. “Quit it.”
Lyra coughed so hoarse she sounded like she was deflating. “I—” And she coughed again. “I would if I—”
When Lyra hacked and choked again right after that, she spotted Silver swaying forward—then back—then… grunting.
“Come on,” Silver muttered, like—like something had changed between them. Something he wasn’t letting her in on. “Lyra. Just—here.” He was rough. He was reserved. He was— “Here. I—got you what you need right now, I think.”
“You think?” Lyra got out.
Silver made a weak but frustrated sound as he scooted closer with his bag to her and her Typhlosion. “I don’t—know what I’m doing. I don’t know what we’re doing. With everything, lately.”
Oh. This was kind of happening. Lyra felt oddly caught.
“But I came back,” Silver said, “and you were sick, and—” Like clockwork, Silver pulled a few boxes of medicine out of his bag. “—if you had found me like that—I—think you would’ve done this.”
Lyra flushed, and it might not have all been from fever. “Oh.” Oh. “Thank you.”
“I had to take your Dragonite,” he said. “I don’t know if you remember me saying that.”
“Really?”
Silver hummed and popped open one of the boxes. “Crobat got stubborn and wouldn’t take me back to town once it saw how bad you were doing.”
Lyra laughed—which translated into a rough cough or two. “Aww, Crobat.”
“I’m sorry for—borrowing your Pokémon,” Silver said. “But. You’ve also probably gotten me sick. So… can we be even on that?”
Something about his awkwardness was endearing. He meant well. Lyra knew him well enough to trust that. So, feeling hopeful—perhaps even brazen—Lyra cleared her throat, and took the box of cough syrup from him, and put her other hand over his, and said, “We don’t have to be even. We can just—be, you know?”
They didn’t need any definitive categorization. They were accidental travel buddies. They were awkwardly fond of each other. They were whatever they needed to be.
Amid thinking this, Lyra watched Silver glance down at her hand. “Have you been coughing on that?”
“Yes,” Lyra said solemnly. “Yes, I probably have been. My bad.”
“No, it’s—fine,” Silver muttered, covering her hand in both of his. “I’m already infected, the way things have been going.” And when Lyra squeezed his hand back, Silver said, “Take the cough syrup, though. You’re legitimately burning up.”
Lyra chuckled.
“And if that fever doesn’t get any better in an hour,” Silver went on, “I’m taking you to Motostoke for Urgent Care.”
“You’re right,” Lyra said as she pulled her hand back to get at the cough syrup. “I probably got pneumonia from being out here.”
Silver snorted. “You should’ve come with me into town.”
Lyra chugged a dose of cough syrup and barely held in a cough. “Hindsight is 20-20.” Then she coughed for real, hard enough to bruise a rib maybe, yet managed to say, “Urgent Care would be great, actually. Take me away, Silver.”