Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Drew wasn’t entirely sure when the room had started tilting, but he was positive it had to do with Harley saying, “You’re an adult now, live a little!” The next thing he knew he was at the annual coordinator New Years party, tiredly balancing himself on the wobbly bar table—far, far from where he thought he’d be right now—his bed.

It all started with a casual conversation with pink-haired, ever so optimistic Solidad. She’d plucked him out of the contest hall like a Pidove nipping at the ground desperately for leftovers of food in the city, barely even leaving him with any time to protest. “There’s a New Years party held at Evergrande City for top-coordinators soon,” she’d said, “you should come, too, Drew—Show your face a little.”

At first he’d brushed it off with an amused snort, flicking his hair out of his face. “Like I have time for that,” he’d protested, folding his arms tightly as Roserade stood by his feet, glaring up at him with lowered eyelids, as if irritated by the fact he was avoidant about an event yet again. “We’ve got training to do; perfectioning combinations and sharpening our battle skills…I don’t have time to mess around.”

But despite how clear and bold he’d exclaimed those words, Solidad wasn’t having it.

“You need to socialize and get out there a bit more, Drew,” she added sternly, mirroring his crossed arms. “Besides, the grand festival just ended. We’ve still got so much time left before the new season starts back up; it’ll do you some good to lessen up a little—May’s going, too. I bet she’d be devastated to hear you’re not coming..”

Curse that Solidad, he’d thought that moment.

She just had to pick at his weakness.

His ears flushed a sudden crimson, his expression crumpling into raw irritation and embarrassment as even Roserade let out a chirpy trill beside him. “Solidad,” he snapped, nostrils flaring like a Pyroar about to erupt, “you didn’t have to bring her up… there are other ways to persuade me..!” He growled, oblivious to the fact he was turning as red as a tamato berry.

Solidad removed her arm from off the other, instead placing her palm cheekily against her cheek, smiling stupidly. “Is there? Because frankly I don’t really think so—you’ve only really got a weak spot for May; you wouldn’t fall for anything else, even if I’d tried,” she chirped contentedly, her innocent smile a stark contrast to the teasing tone of the words that dissolved into the cold December evening air.

“You’re so damn infuriating,” he hissed, praying the red color would drain from his cheeks. “Even if May is going, I’ve got my priorities—keeping my pokémon in tip-top shape. If we wanna win that trophy next year we’re gonna want to get even more serious than we’ve been before.”

Solidad gave an unamused glare, furrowing her eyebrows like she’d personally been offended. “Set your dream aside for a moment,” she commented, suddenly sounding more serious and stern than he’d ever seen of her. “What do you think your pokémon desire? You’ve been training relentlessly; the season just ended, Drew. You and your pokémon should take it slow for a bit.”

A brief silence settled as Drew faltered, his eyes drifting to Roserade, who had been taking in every word. He didn’t have time to waste—his Pokémon could have time to rest just fine without him showing up to some pointless party. He wasn’t going. Not for Solidad, and certainly not for May.

—Or so he thought, until Roserade let out a bright, insistent chirp, making it unmistakably clear that it approved of him going anyway.

Solidad immediately brightened up, laughing aloud like she’d won the lottery. “See? Even Roserade agrees! It doesn’t hurt to spend some hours at a party, Drew. By the time the new year starts you’ll have all the time in the world to practice!” she commented, Roserade trilling along in agreement.

He’d felt like he was driven and bullied into a corner—by the very people he trusted and relied on most. “You’re not letting me get out of this, are you?” he grumbled in full irritation as Roserade made a jump for joy, realizing her helping hand in the matter had been the final blow for Drew to finally agree. “Not a second,” she said with a grin sharp enough to count as attitude, “glad you finally caught up.”

In response Drew couldn’t help but lightly kick a pebble with the tip of his feet, grunting exasperatedly. “I’m simply going because I’m in the minority here,” he hissed, unamused on how joyful Solidad and Roserade were despite his clear unease. “Come on,” Solidad mused, giving Drew a light push in the chest, “It’ll be over before you know it!”

…But, Arceus, was she wrong.

Now Harley was standing in front of him, suit and champagne and all, balancing the wine glass between his fingers like it was an average Tuesday. “I didn’t ever think Solidad would manage to get you here with how hard-headed you are,” he sung happily, his eyes twinkling. "Must have meant she’s used her heart and soul—tell me, Drew honey, what made you agree?”

As if his head wasn’t already pounding hard enough he slumbered against the table even further, eyes low and droopy, as Harley begged the question mischievously. “Solidad and Roserade pitched up against me,” he hissed, his hand tightening around the glass in his hand, almost sending liquor pouring over, “I didn’t stand a chance and I was tired. Next time I’m not showing up, mark my words.”

After laughing far too hard to take it seriously, he finally managed to shake his head and scoff, eyes bright like he didn't believe a word. “No one withstands Solidad’s stubbornness," he chirped happily, sipping from his champagne before slamming the glass against the table, the rumble of the clash immediately disappearing into the noise of the ballroom. “and even your Roserade going along to pester you? Gee, Drew, you’ve sure got reliable Pokémon—May’s starting to rub off on you more and more by the day!” he teased, ignoring how Drew’s entire posture tightened.

“What’sh with everybody goin’ on about May all the damn time…” he slurred, slumping even deeper into the table like gravity had it out for him. “My Pokémon are perfectly well-behaved, thank you. Roserade just… y’know… thrives on my misery. Same as the rest of you.”

Harley laughed aloud instantly, slamming down on the table with pure joy. “Oh, Drew-bear!" he sung, “We simply can’t help it; you’re always so serious and boring with that attitude of yours! Seeing you humiliated feels rarer than winning a jacketpot! A soap opera—but even better. More so when your own Pokémon are out there ganging up on you!”

Drew grumbled again instantly, pressing the foot of the glass against the table slightly harder than he’d intended, his knuckles practically glowing white, “You’re… you’re the one with the damn insufferable attitude, Harley,” he babbled, nearly tripping over his own words. “If it were up to me—hic—and not Solidad lovin’ your troublemaking ass so much, I would’ve knocked some goddamn sense into you already.” 

The purple-haired coordinator in front of him suddenly let out a loud, excited shrill—almost like how his fangirls would scream, he couldn’t help but notice—before twirling to his side, slinging his arm around his back like a lifeline. “Watch that language a little, pretty-boy,” he sung, getting too close for comfort despite Drew visibly cringing in his grasp, “before May thinks you’re one yourself!~”

“Harley…” he hissed back, squirming weakly against his arm even though his whole body felt light and weak. “This—this is all your damn fault,” he slurred, jabbing a finger that wobbled just as much as he did.

Harley moved again, as though he was about to respond, but a voice cut him to the quick.

“Give him a break, Harley,” the pink-haired coordinator a feet away mused, a half-empty wineglass clasped in her palm, “He looks like he’s having it a little rough right now—how much did he drink?”

Drew was about to respond, trying to fight himself out of his grasp to tell her “It wasn’t me, Harley forced that liquor on me”, but he could barely hold himself together as Harley cut him to the quick, smile bright and wide before dissolving into one of mock-worry. “Poor Drew’s just had one glass, but he’s slurring from head to toe! He can barely keep himself grounded!”

Solidad on the other hand seemed a bit more aware, the way her eyebrows suddenly tightening showing she did feel some concern. “He is pale all over—odd that so little alcohol has such a strong effect on him.” she murmured, ticking her long, glittery pink nails against her glass. “I’ll watch over him for a bit, Harley.” she announced, cleanly making her way over to Drew, softly unraveling Harley’s arms from his back. “Why don’t you go talk with some
other coordinators instead of bullying poor Drew here?”

Harley gave a skeptical look before he flicked his back hair with a loose hand before storming off toward the food tables, murmuring something about “Drew not being fun company, anyway”. Drew immediately let out an exasperated sigh, as though Solidad had been his saving grace. “Thanks, Sol,” he grumbled, slumbering back into one of the bar chairs, “I thought he’d never shut up.”

Solidad nodded generously, dropping her wine glass back on the glass table. “Someone had to give you a break; besides, you don’t look so good. You might wanna take it easy and go home soon.”

He let out another low, miserable grumble, raking his fingers through his hair until they practically scraped his scalp, trying, and failing, to pull himself together. “I didn’t…I didn’t even mean to drink anything,” he hiccuped, shoving his glass away with a sloppy, irritated swipe. “But Harley kept goin’ on like— ‘I’m an adult now,’ and ‘you gotta learn t’ live a little,’” he spat, anger bubbling up sloppier than the booze in his stomach. “And look at me now— I can’t even stand on my own damn feet.”

Solidad stretched silently before looking back straight at him, eyes soft and understandable. “I understand he wants to see you loosen up a bit, but pressuring you into drinking isn’t much of a good solution, I’m afraid.”

“Well, if he wants to see me miserable it sure as hell worked,” he hissed, grabbing his half-empty glass before chugging the rest down angrily. “I’ve got nothing to lose now, I’m damned and Harley just… he just had to be that annoying little prick as always! I frankly don’t understand how you can stand his…infuriatin’…utterly irritating..disrespectful ass attitude!” 

Solidad looked almost taken aback as Drew muttered curses under his breath, a flicker of fire burning in his eyes despite the way his words slurred and his movements faltered. It was the kind of barely-contained rage that made it feel like he might explode at any second, even in his weakened state. “Wow, Drew… the alcohol really hit you hard, huh?” she said, her tone easy and teasing at first, though her gaze sharpened as she studied him more closely. Her relaxed smile faded slightly, replaced by a subtle furrow in her brow. “I’ll make sure to keep you away from Harley next time,” she added, a hint of caution creeping into her voice. “Guess he really isn’t the best influence at parties.”

“Reeeally,” Drew murmured sarcastically, his words dragging slightly, slurring around the edges as he blinked up at her, eyes wide and a little unfocused. “You… you think so!?” He tipped his head back slightly, swaying just a fraction, and let out a short, humorless laugh that stumbled out more like a hiccup.

“Okay, he might be an awful influence,” Solidad replied almost instantly, not sure what to expect of a drunk-dazed Drew who was staring at her so hard she felt like his gaze could burn through her silk dress.

“....Thank you,” Drew slurred again. “Thank Arceus.”

Solidad shifted once more, her smile crooked but gentle as she subtly tried to keep him steady. “Anyway… putting the drinks aside for a moment,” she murmured evasively, slipping Drew’s glass from his hand while he seemed lost in his own thoughts, barely noticing. “Do you happen to have any New Year’s resolutions? There’s only a few hours left before the clock strikes twelve. Surely there’s something you’re hoping to tackle or achieve in the year ahead.”

Drew nearly jolted in his chair, as if caught off guard, before his half-lidded eyes snapped open and his eyebrows drew together in a tight frown. For a brief moment, he seemed about to reach for the glass, only to slam his hand down on the table where it had been moments before. “Uh… well… becoming, y’know, top coordinator, obviously,” he slurred, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “Kicking Harley’s ass… that’d be a… a delightful bonus, can’t forget that one,” he added, wobbling slightly as he attempted to straighten his posture as best he could.

“...Other than becoming the top coordinator? That’s been your goal about every year now,” the pink-haired woman protested, eyeing his hand movements tightly, sensing he wanted to resort to more drinking, “...Surely you’ve got other things you’ve got your eyes on?”

Drew shifted to lean on his elbow, his expression tightening into pure confusion as though he’d forgotten what they were talking about. “Eeeuhh,” he started, murmuring thickly, “like…May, maybe? I’m trying real hard not to stare at her,” he grumbled, stiffening as if he was trying to keep himself from turning around, “she’s been looking—uh… really…really… wow, really damn pretty, even with that ridiculous pastry stuffed in her mouth…every couple of seconds…” he murmured casually, barely aware that he was openly talking about feeling attracted to the brunette. Then he paused, cheeks flushing.  “…I mean.. not that I’ve been staring a lot..”

The coordinator in front of her suddenly glowed with amusement, as her eyes were bright and teasing, meanwhile her lips had curved into a crooked smile, watching as her green-haired friend slurred on. “I meant what your New Years resolution is, Drew,” she repeated gently, despite feeling endlessly entertained, “not that you’ve got an obvious crush on May—about everyone knows by now, except May herself.”

“Urgh… new resolutions? Really?” Drew scoffed, slowly—but shakily—pulling himself up from the chair, “I don’t… do that stuff.”

Solidad leaned a little closer, resting an elbow on the table, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh, come on, Drew,” she said softly, teasing. “There’s no need to be such a buzzkill—there’s good things to look and work forward to with resolutions,” she hummed, leaning her cheek into the palm of her hand. “But, if you’re too stubborn for that, we could try something else. Like…a challenge. A bet, maybe?”

Drew blinked at her, half-focused, brows furrowing in confusion. “What…?” he questioned. "A bet…?" he slurred, falling back into the chair and swaying softly again, “Euh… well, I don’t know, Sol. I don’t really trust accepting such.. risky deals with you. You’d probably, like.. try.. to make my next year like.. hell.. or something.”

“Well… let’s say you’ve got an entire year to confess your love to May?”

Drew’s eyes widened a little, then narrowed in weak seriousness, though his slurred speech made it sound far less serious. “Wait… w-wait, wait—hic—I… tell May… how I…feel?” He leaned back, twirling a finger in the air like it was some grand gesture, wobbling slightly. “Hah! Are you saying… I’d fail at that? Please! I’m—hic—way more charming than any of you could even dream of being.”

“I’ll only believe you if you’ll eventually manage,” Solidad sung. “Now that you’re drunk you’re all bark, but once you wake up tomorrow you’ll have no bite.”

Drew slammed his fist against the table, sending a small tremor through the surface, his glare sharp and full of mock indignation. “Oh…? You really think that, huh?” he slurred, leaning back slightly as if daring her to challenge him. “Because I’m totally…hic!…winning that bet, Solidad.” His crooked, lopsided grin stretched wide, somehow both ridiculous and endearing. “I’m not… not as scared as you think I am… I’ll have told her how I feel before you even get the second to open your mouth and ask me about it,” he added, puffing his chest out just a little, trying to look haughty and confident, even though his words stumbled and wavered with every word. “What do I get if I win?”

The pink-haired coordinator looked thoughtful before she snapped her finger joyfully, her eyes lighting up. “If you win, you’ll get bragging rights, and I’ll admit aloud your method for training isn’t ridiculous.”

Drew’s eyes glistened like a persian in the dark. “And if I lose?”

“If you lose I’ll tell her myself.”

Drew froze, suddenly debating the choice he’d made. Well, he wouldn’t have to worry about that, since he was gonna be able to confess by the end of the year, anyway! With a hard swallow and a slow nod, he fought back up a smirk.

“So it’s a deal, then?” Solidad chirped innocently, weaving her hands together to peer down at Drew full of amusement, as if she hadn’t gotten Drew to compete in possibly the hardest task he’d ever face—way harder than even winning the grand festival. “Yes,” Drew countered hotly, “It’s a deal.” 

“Ooh! Sounds like it’s gonna be one hell of a year!”

An alarmingly loud shrill became from right behind Drew, and he almost jumped out of his seat as Harley was leaning over his shoulder, peering down with narrowed, teasing eyes. “It was about time, too…you’ve been always such a coward when it comes to that lovely brunette! Glad to hear you’re finally getting your shit together after all….”

As if all confidence had been drained from Drew right that moment he seemed to sink into his chair completely again, folding like a Grimer that had been starving. “Fuck,” he cursed simultaneously, feeling the weight of it all crashing him down like a truck. “...This’ll be one hell of a ride,” he murmured, eyes wide and heavy, gazing down at the table like he’d lost the most important battle in his Pokémon coordinator career.

And just when Drew thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse, Harley spun around with the speed of a Rapidash, hair practically whipping in every direction, and flung his arms wide like he was announcing the end of the world. “May! Honey! You wanna know what Drew’s New Year’s resolution is!?” he bellowed, his voice ricocheting off the walls and echoing through the entire room, leaving no corner untouched. May pivoted on her heel instantly, the soft folds of her sapphire chiffon dress swirling gracefully around her as she moved. Her eyes widened, sparkling with curiosity, taking in the scene before her with a mixture of interest and anticipation.

“Huh? What’d you say, Harley?” she hummed as her hand, who was holding a piece of a cookie, went slack.

“Drew’s next year’s resolution!” he chimed happily, hopping over to her like a toddler, arms wide. “It’s gonna be a real challenge!”

Drew made an attempt to pull himself up from his chair—although embarrassingly wobbly—before he stomped over to Harley, eyes deep and restless like he was gonna lose his sanity at any moment. He wanted to grumble, to snap, to say anything that would make Harley finally shut up—but his body seemed to have its own plans. Slowly, deliberately, he turned away from the teasing figure behind him. His gaze fell on May, and in an instant, the hardness in his expression melted into softness, a quiet warmth replacing every trace of irritation. It was as if all the chaos around him; the noise, the embarrassment, the teasing… it all faded away, leaving only the gentle, steady pull of his attention toward her.

For what it felt like the first time that night he’d come to properly look at her: her hair had been styled slightly differently than normal, a delicate braid resting atop her head like a soft, jeweled crown. Her eyes seemed brighter than ever, the mascara on her eyelashes making it stand out even further. And her lips—they’d been colored a light rose. He tried desperately not to linger.

“...Oh? What kind of a challenge, Drew?” May asked curiously, tilting her head stupidly like a clueless Rockruff.

Right that moment he’d felt weaker than he’d felt all night, his brain and body suddenly entirely numb, as he stared wide-eyed, trying to muster a reply. “Well…euh..” he slurred, the alcohol suddenly hitting him harder than a Body Slam.

“What he means,” a gentle voice murmured from behind him, breaking through the fog of his thoughts, accompanied by a soft, reassuring pat on his shoulder, “is that he’s going to win the grand festival with his eyes closed. Isn’t that right, Drew?”

It was Solidad, her smile warm and tender from head to toe, as if silently apologizing for all the chaos she had dragged him into. Her presence grounded him, and slowly, as much as he could manage, Drew began to come back to himself—as much as he could, anyway. He let out a soft, awkward nod. “Y-yes,” he murmured, words a little thick with hesitation and whatever lingering effects of the night remained, “with my eyes closed. I could… even do it deaf.” He managed, indignantly turning away his head in the hopes of May not seeing his crimson stained cheeks—but to his utter embarrassment he wobbled slightly, falling back into Solidad’s arm.

“Uh…” May whispered, voice tight with uncertainty, tilting their head ever so slightly, eyes darting like they were searching for reassurance. “Sure?” she mused, her eyes betraying some sort of concern. “Drew, are you okay? You don’t look so good..” she then added, under her breath, barely up to him to hear.

Solidad stepped forward a little once Drew had pushed himself off of her, her eyes kind and reassuring. “He’s okay,” she assured her with a gentle nod, “Drew just happened to drink a bit—didn’t know it would have such a big impact so fast.”

May visibly shifted, her sapphire heart earrings swinging along precisely with the movement of her hair. “Oh, I see,” she exclaimed, her gaze still full of concern—not breaking away from Drew for a second—before she took a shy step forward, reaching out to examine him more closely, “That’s…really unfortunate. How is he gonna get back home safely?” she asked instantly, practically glowing with worry, as if nothing mattered more to her than the safety of Drew. “It’s late.. and dark out.”

“No need to worry, May,” Solidad reassured again, stepping forward to pat her on the shoulder. “I’ll take him home safely.”

At that, May’s expression softened, a gentle, trusting smile spreading across her face as she gave Solidad a final nod, confident that she would take care of everything. “Alright… good, that’s settled,” she chimed lightly. But before she could turn away, her gaze fell on Drew, warm and lingering. She stepped closer, her voice gentle but carrying a note of concern. “Promise me you’ll be careful, Drew,” she said, reaching out to lace her fingers with his. “I know you can be stubborn sometimes,” she added with a small, worried sigh, “but… please, just for tonight… take it easy?”

He’d never agreed to someone’s request faster.

And just like that, the party kept going. May had kept to herself by the food tables, chatting away with a coordinator she’d faced the season prior, who was just as big of a fan of food as she was—Harley was up ahead flirting around with coordinators who “he deemed attractive”, and Solidad had stuck by his side to make sure he wasn’t fumbling around any more.

With every second that ticked by, Drew's head was pounding harder and harder, and that’s when he decided he had enough. “Solidad, I can’t take it much longer. Let’s go,” he’d said, and Solidad cooperated without a single protest, curling her arm on his back to keep him steady as they planned to make their leave. He didn’t wanna announce his departure—and eventually, after a lot of begging Solidad not to, they didn’t—but, despite that, when he’d stepped through the door leaning on Solidad’s support, he couldn’t help but notice behind him as May’s gaze followed him, her eyes soft, and warm. Not ever had he felt his stomach go that crazy seeing her eyes.

“Her eyes,” he murmured messily as they stumbled to Solidad’s car, secured under her support, “they were brighter than I’ve ever seen them.”

“That’s because she was looking at you,” Solidad replied with a soft laugh, gazing down at Drew with warm, supportive eyes, “She was happy to see you come to an event for once. I wasn’t kidding when I said she’d be disappointed if you wouldn’t come.”

Drew dug his hand through his hair with the last remaining power he had in his body, his eyes heavy. “She’s…so…stupidly innocent and unaware,” he replied gruggily, leaning on Solidad’s support a little more. “But, yet… despite that..that’s what makes her, her.”

He hadn’t noticed how Solidad had been examining his love-sick expression, the way his lips slightly curved upward to a stupid smile, his eyes soft—softer than he’d exposed to anyone else ever before. “Yeah,” the woman agreed, “she’s one of a kind.”

The chartreuse haired coordinator hesitated, but with an encouraging look of Solidad he burst into a sigh, nodding slowly. “She is,” he hummed, desperately clawing at the door’s handle once they got to Solidad’s car, “But she’s too damn clueless for her own good—she doesn’t have an idea of what she does to me when she looks at me so curiously and surprised…”

Solidad held open the door as Drew stumblingly slipped into the seat, her smile knowing but teasing. “Yeah, you were practically standing with your mouth agape, blushing from head to toe like you’d never seen anyone more beautiful,” she tittered, slamming the door close to cut off Drew’s response, that almost sounded like a sigh and heavy grumble at once.

“I really looked like that?” He grumbled once Solidad took the driver's seat at the other side, hanging all over the dashboard like it was a lifeline, his eyes droopy and exhausted. “Practically,” she replied smoothly, pressing the brake pedal with a quick swipe before the car’s engine started whirring in response, “I hadn’t ever seen you so in awe like that—not even at a single appeal anyone’s ever done…not to mention you could barely speak, too.”

Drew slumped further into the dashboard, kicking his heel impatiently against the carpet by his feet as the car started moving. “Oh, I’m never gonna hear the end of this from you and Harley,” he groaned. “Thank Arceus at least May isn’t that sharp and insufferable like you. I’d.. surely be done, then,” he hiccuped, eyes suddenly wide like May teasing him about his antics would be equivalent to the world ending.

“Too clueless for her own good,” Solidad laughed again.

“Well, kid,” Solidad mused, leaning against the frame of the door with an amused smile, the light of the hallway illuminating her hair so much that it almost glowed, “Are you gonna be alright there? Or do I need to tuck you into bed, too?”

If looks could kill, the daggers Drew shot that moment would send her down, lifeless and bleeding. “Ha-ha, very funny. I’ll be fine, mom,” he spat, grabbing the door handle with the force of a Machamp, not hesitating a second to slam the door in her face.

“I was kidding,” Solidad squirmed immediately, pulling up her hands to feign innocence, “just don’t try anything stupid. Please brush your teeth and go rest; you look about as weak and miserable as a Magikarp on land.” she hummed, reaching over to give Drew a friendly ruffle on his messy, green hair, smile soft and reassuring.

“...Yeah,” Drew murmured, his grip on the handle loosing simultaneously. “I’ll be fine.”

Solidad turned around smoothly, shooting a last glare behind her shoulder. “Goodnight, kid. I’ll call you tomorrow morning; see how you’re holding up.”

Drew waved dismissively, almost groaning. “Yay,” he muttered sarcastically, eyelid twitching, “Awesome. Will be looking forward to that.”

With a laugh Solidad disappeared through the hallway, leaving the silence of the evening and the rushing in his ears the only thing that was left he could hear. He wanted to move, but his head was almost throbbing as hard as steel, keeping him rooted to the spot, numb. “...This is great,” Drew hiccuped, half-aware it was in the middle of the night, “I’m never going to parties ever again.”

With a grunt and a groan he slammed the door close.

Brushing his teeth was more of a hassle than he’d thought, as even his hand was trembling all over, almost sending the electric toothbrush bouncing against his teeth—but after what it seemed like an eternity, his mouth felt decently cleaned—that was, until, he spit out the water to feel nausea creep up in his throat. “Is this.. what Alcohol does?” he spluttered, feeling like throwing up.

At last he’d thrown himself on his bed, his phone situated on his bed-side table, right beside a digital clock that was glowing 2:30AM in bold letters. His legs suddenly felt heavier than he’d ever felt them, almost as if they were stone. “This is awful…” he muttered, sinking deeper into the mattress, his eyelids falling. “I just…need to get this over with—tomorrow will surely be better.”

Knowing that he hadn't ever fallen asleep faster.

okay, update: here are the official May and Drew designs for this prologue! drawn by yours truly!

Chapter Text

Pounding. Sharp, heavy pounding was the first thing he felt that morning.

“Fuck,” he cursed aloud, his hands instinctively traveling up his back to his head.

Everything that moment was blurry. His sight, mind, and body—everything felt about as numb as a lifeless puppet—except his head, which was pounding at a full 100 miles per hour, about as heavy as a Snorlax using body slam.

What the hell happened?

Angrily, he flung the bedsheets from his lap and forced himself upright, every muscle protesting with a dull, weak ache. He wanted to get up, look around, to understand why his body felt so unbearably sore and wretched, but the effort drained what little strength he had. With a piercing pounding in his head he fell back into the mattress, emitting a low groan that almost sounded like a growl. “Eeeugh…what in the name of Arceus is this?”

He would’ve kept wallowing in his self-pity if it wasn’t for his Rotomphone buzzing out loudly—a happy, upbeat ringtone that May forcefully had installed on it—almost sending vibrations through the room. “Great, now what,” he hissed, lifting himself back up reaching for the phone on the bedside desk with all the energy and frustration he had left.

“SOLIDAD” it said, in white, bold, glowing letters.

His phone glowed as brightly as a sun mid-summer, leaving him to squint and cringe at the screen with unease, fumbling to turn the brightness down—who, somehow, was at the max. “What does she want? It’s 8am in the morning for fuck’s sake,” he cussed, pressing his finger to the red “reject” button, before slamming it back on the table.

He let out a relieved sigh, curling himself up back under his sheets. “I don’t have time for her calls right now,” he exclaimed softly, feeling the soft fabric of the covers brushing against his skin, almost feeling like it soothed his aching muscles. He relaxed at once, the pounding slowly subduing—until his phone started screeching again, almost sending him across the bed. “Solidad…I’m going to..” he growled, reaching for the phone again. This time, though, he tapped the green button instead.

"Good morning, grasshead!” Solidad’s kind and cheerful voice rang through the phone at full volume, making him cringe again. “Sorry to be spam calling you—I had to check up on you after that rough bit last night.”

Drew felt a flicker of confusion, but he pushed it aside, refusing to give the moment more attention than it deserved; all he wanted was for this conversation to end. “Amazing,” he muttered, forcing as much sincerity into his voice as he could manage. “Really, just wonderful. If all you called for was to check up on me, then great—bye. And do me a favor: don’t call again today.”

He hoped that’d shut her up, but Solidad just laughed.

“You don’t sound so good,” she protested, though Drew could tell she felt more amusement than anything else, “You sound like you’re about to collapse.”

“What the hell do you think?” He burst through the phone, eyes wide and voice fierce. “My head is throbbing, my entire body hurts and feels sore, and I want to kill myself. Of course I don’t sound good. What in the name of Arceus happened last night, Solidad? What’d you do this time?”

The line went dead silent for a moment, but Solidad then hummed thoughtfully, amusement gone as soon as it had appeared. “The New Year’s party last night,” she stated matter of factly, sending memories rushing back to Drew’s head, “You drank. You ended up pretty drunk and wonky—that’s why I called. To check up on you, see how you’re holding up after all of that.”

Drew groaned in response, feeling all the memories and weight of last night fall upon him; Harley’s teasing, the damn glass of champagne, Solidad’s reassuring support—and May. Oh Arceus, that good-looking, utterly beautiful May. “Ugh, right,” he groaned, taking his phone under the covers with him, the coldness of the apartment bristling against his skin. “Well, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not really holding up well at all.”

Solidad hummed softly again. “Oh, I can tell.”

“If you’re just here to make fun of me, you can hang up,” Drew croaked angrily.

“Oh, no,” Solidad insisted, her voice booming out louder than before, “Aside from checking up on you I wanted to remind you about something important—before you forget with all the training that always occupies your mind.”

Drew shifted from underneath his blankets, eyelids weak and his limbs as heavy as stone. “Nothing could be more important than my training,” he countered hotly, “besides, I’ve got enough on my mind right now as it is. First I want to get through today without fucking throwing up.”

Solidad eerily chuckled into the speaker of her phone, sending shivers down Drew’s bare spine, leaving him frozen—Solidad never exclaimed such a tone. She was always one of optimism and joy, and even when she teased there was a warm friendliness to it. But this? That wasn’t a usual chuckle; that was a laugh that made him know he had something coming. “I’m not so sure if this is any less important than your training,” she chirped darkly. “—It’s about May.”

Drew shifted again, groaning internally. “May? What now, Solidad?” he grumbled, despite his curiosity almost getting the best of him

“The bet,” she hummed pridefully.

The bet? He racked his brain far and wide for anything, but all he felt was pounding, a rush of unease and a thick, hazy blur. “The bet?” He inquired, dumbly, squinting his eyes as if that would help him recollect the memories.

“The bet,” she repeated slowly, the smirk she’d been wearing that moment apparent to how amused she sounded, “it’ll be a bit more of a workout than training..”

In a rush of anger and anxiety he threw the blanket off of him—lifting himself up from the bed in a hurry, eyes wide—before he screamed into the phone again, heart racing. “What do you mean, bet!? What bet, and how in the name of Arceus is May involved? For fuck’s sake, Solidad, what’d you do this time? Did you make me agree to something while I was fucking drunk!?”

Solidad, on the other side, emitted a relaxed, dreamy sigh, leaning into her phone grinning ear to ear. “Oh—It’s nothing serious. It just involves you having to confess to May before the end of next year, or I’ll be doing it for you,” she stated—voice sparkling with amusement—before she continued on talking, not giving him a moment to speak or protest. “But I won’t have to worry about that, since you claimed you had “so much more charm than any of us ever could have”, and that you would confess before I even had a word to say about it.”

If Drew didn’t feel like throwing up before, he certainly did now.

“You WHAT!?” he practically screamed into the phone, glowing red from head to toe, his ears practically steaming. “I was drunk, Solidad! Drunk! How would you stoop so low to rope me into that!? You know I don’t stand a chance with her! She’s more clueless than a Slowpoke with a Shelder on its tail!”

Solidad had been smiling darkly on the other side of the line, laying in her apartment's sofa with Pidgeot curled up right by her feet, soaking in every word of the conversation. He wasn’t wrong; she did stoop a little low like this, but everyone else, including her, knew something like this would’ve never come naturally. She didn’t wanna mess with fate—she didn’t want to play matchmaker—but Drew was taking too long. Far too long. He’d recently turned eighteen, an adult, while May had grown into a lovely lady herself, but still seventeen. All those years after Kanto had gone by, but he’d barely dared to make a move. She didn’t want to go against fate—but if she didn’t intercept now, it’d all stay the way it was.

“And you,” Solidad pointed out, circling her finger mid-air as if to prove a point—even though he couldn’t even see her, “—Are too much of a shy, avoidant mess to confess to her or agree to something like this in the first place. I don’t like headbutting myself into other people's business, Drew, but if you don’t make a move now May’s gonna find someone else she fancies.”

Drew instantly went quiet, the only soft creaking of the blankets standing out in the silence. “...God, Solidad, you’re horrible,” he murmured at last, his voice no longer booming despite the obvious tone of anger still lingering.

“You’ll thank me once this is over,” the woman sang happily in response, not seeming to have a single concern for his anger and unease, “you’ll be the happiest guy alive once you’re with her. You just don’t realize that yet.”

Drew sank into his mattress, his throat burning. Who was she to think May felt a single thing back for him? They were contest rivals, maybe friends at best. She couldn’t see him romantically, so why was Solidad so incredibly sure that May would accept his confession if he did manage to do so eventually? He knew May better than she ever could; he’d been there since the start. All that she harbored toward him were feelings of respect and care, and that was it. “Just because I’m madly in love with her doesn’t mean she feels the same!” he spat, giving his blanket an angry pound, “She just sees me as another rival. And I can live with that.”

His words wavered—no, he could never come to terms with May just seeing him as a rival or friend—since the first moments her performances and antics pushed him to work harder, he wanted more of her than just respect. He desired a deeper bond with the brunette. But he couldn’t just wish that—he couldn’t be selfish, because if May harbored no feelings for him, it’d have to be that way. He tightly swallowed in the sour words, his mouth long gone dry.

“Oh, Drew,” Solidad said softly, her tone more serious now. “I don’t think you realize it, but she cares about you just as much as you care about her. You’re so focused on training—on getting stronger, staying ahead—that you don’t always see it. Or her.

Try spending time with her outside of contests. Really spend time with her. Let yourself see all of her, and how she feels about you. At least give it a chance, Drew. If you don’t…you might miss out on something that could make you happier than you’ve ever been.”

Drew shifted under the weight of his blankets again, humming thoughtfully. Solidad did have a point. He had a tendency of getting absorbed into the heat of battling, teasing and improving, that he didn’t get to see much of May; something that, although he hadn’t fully accepted, was something he longed for. To know her as a genuine person—to hear her laugh, to see her bond and interact with her pokémon and others—to know her further than just the princess of Hoenn who participated in contests. To be able to call her his friend. To be able to see parts of her that the average contest-fan or coordinator doesn’t see.

He rarely had moments to see her outside of contests—the only situations really being on Mirage Island, and during the chase after Arcanine. And in those moments alone he’d learnt there lied a lot more beneath May than just that she liked coordinating, food, and playing with her pokémon. He’d learnt she wasn’t just a girl, but that she was human, with feelings and experiences she went through.

On Mirage Island May had refused to let others out of her grasp for a single moment; she cared the most about other people, in the most dangerous moments—where most people would resort to selfish desires. She’d stretched out her hand to him, trying everything in her power to save him from the fall down the stream, despite how ruthlessly he’d treated her contests prior: no matter how tight the current was, or how close they were to drowning, she didn’t let go. Not a moment.

When she got sucked into Team Rocket’s vacuum, her only concern was the Wynaut, their home, and the berries that meant most to them. In that moment, she had no selfish desire—she begged for the Wynaut to be left alone, meanwhile she was nearly getting crushed in the tank with Liechi berries.

That wasn’t the girl he’d first met at the Slateport beach.

She’d learned, and improved, again and again.

In just the first season she’d competed in contests she surprised him, over and over. With her klutzy-but-adorable antics, what she learned from her mistakes and flaws, and her inner true kindness and care for her pokémon; she’d never stopped surprising him. From Hoenn, to Kanto, to Johto and beyond—she never failed to make him mutter in surprise when she did another reckless thing for the sake of saving another. He wanted to keep being surprised. He wanted to see every bit of her; inside of contests and out.

“Well,” he muttered after a moment of silence, “...you’re not letting me out of this—so I might as well try, anyway.”

Solidad let out a bright, satisfied hum, clearly enjoying every second of his internal turmoil. “Good,” she said cheerfully. “I’m glad you finally get it!” Her voice chimed from the other end of the line, and Drew instinctively growled in irritation. “Well then,” she continued, sounding far too pleased with herself, “since that’s all settled… best of luck to you, Mister Rose!”

She ended the call before Drew could get a single word in. Heat immediately rushed to his cheeks, and he groaned, flinging the blankets aside as he rolled half off the mattress, legs dangling over the edge of the bed frame. “She’s enjoying this way too much,” he muttered through clenched teeth as he pushed himself upright. Turning toward the edge of the bed, he exhaled sharply. “I need to get this over with—so I never have to hear her bring this up ever again.”

After vomiting in his toilet about five times he finally managed to get himself up to get himself clean under a nice, warm, comforting shower.

“I’m never wearing this stupid suit again,” he grumbled, eyeing at the pile of clothing he’d tossed aside his bed last night—when he was too exhausted and irritated to properly put it somewhere for washing—as he tossed his damp towel over his shoulder, brushing against his bare back. “Not only was it unnecessarily tight, but that tie was practically choking me! I’m gonna get Solidad for forcing me to get something fancy to wear once this is all over..”

Leaving the steamy bathroom he met the cold of his bedroom, and with a quick look outside, and the way about all of the roofs in Evergrande City had been snowed under, he shivered all over, his bare torso suddenly feeling colder than an ice attack head-on. “I really need to get something warm, before I get sick too,” he huffed.

With a quick detour to his closet he’d picked out his usual black sweater and aquamarine jeans, with an extra thick winter coat as a bonus on top of the sweater. The zipper of the coat almost reached up to his lips—but he was already feeling shivery and miserable enough—so he couldn’t complain. “Now what to do,” he asked himself with a sigh, giving the pokeballs on the cabinet by the window a look. “The weather isn’t really optimal for training..”

His cheeks buzzed with warmth the second he got the thought to call May.

“No, no, no. I am NOT gonna look her in the face today. As if,” he hissed, grabbing the pokéballs from the cabinet with tight eyebrows and aching muscles. He’d gone through enough hell for today thanks to Solidad, and he wasn’t gonna just waltz up to May to make it worse. He felt weak—too weak to be able to withstand May’s adorable antics.

Training it is, he decided, turning back to his closet to retrieve an extra scarf, which he wrapped snugly around his neck for added warmth.

“Roserade’s going to be far too stubborn to train outdoors in weather like this,” Drew muttered to himself, adjusting the belt at his waist where his Pokéballs rested. “She absolutely despises the cold.” His gaze drifted briefly over the others clipped there, his thoughts already sorting through possibilities. “Masquerain, Butterfree, and Flygon are out as well—their wings are far too sensitive for this kind of chill.”

He paused, considering his options more carefully before giving a small nod. “But Absol should manage just fine,” he added, his tone more assured now. “It might actually be the perfect partner for preparing our next contest routine.”

With his Pokéballs on belt and a warm coat around his body he made it to the outskirts of Evergrande City, ready for some good training in peace. The past seasons he’d dealt with plenty of paparazzi; the addition of Absol to his team had been documented even well before he originally debuted with it back in Kanto, and with Flygon it happened to be exactly the same. But this time he wanted to step into the fresh season without reporters hot on his tail to discover and documentate—what he found rather disrespectful—his new techniques and possibly new caught pokémon, without his consent or knowledge.

“Absol, come on out!” he yelled, tossing the Pokéball into the air. Absol emerged and landed down on the ground with precision, its white, hail-like fur almost blending in with the snow all around. “I know the season just ended, Absol, but we can’t let our guard down—it’s safe to assume Solidad, Harley and May will be fighting for Hoenn’s top coordinator spot this year again, just like us. We need to prepare and make sure we’ve got some good tricks up our sleeve. What do you think?”

The disaster pokémon trilled out in agreement, immediately strengthening its posture, claws wide.

“So,” Drew began, humming thoughtfully, “Your Play Rough is an unexpected, hard-hitting move that we definitely wanna keep as a last resort for when we’re in a pinch in a battle, so I think we’re going to want to shape up that move even further,” he announced. “But it would be rather lackluster if it was just Play Rough–so how about we combine it with another move, so it’s not only strong, but appealing as well?”

Absol lowered itself eagerly, sharp eyes locked upward as its horn angled toward the sky, every part of it screaming it was ready to battle.

“Good,” the chartreuse-haired Coordinator said with a grin, pivoting on his heel as he gestured toward a loose tree trunk nearby. “Ominous Wind—aim straight for that trunk. Keep the current strong enough that it doesn’t disperse.”

Absol responded instantly. With a resonant cry, it summoned a brilliant whirlwind of swirling blues and violets, which tore into the bark with crushing force. In the very next moment, it surged forward, diving headlong into the raging wind. Its fur flared with radiant light as it followed up with a flurry of Play Rough strikes, each impact scattering sparks. For a brief instant, Absol looked almost angelic in the glowing storm; graceful and luminous, yet the damage left behind was undeniable. The tree’s bark splintered and shredded under the assault, fragments littering on the ground where the trunk laid.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Drew complimented aloud, grinning from head to toe. His heart was surging with not only pride for Absol, but also a lot of excitement—May had shown up in last year’s grand festival with a well-groomed, elegant Altaria, which had fired off incredibly strong Dragon Pulses and Hurricanes, that almost a powerhouse like Flygon had a lot of trouble dealing with—but now he was back in the game, with not just a type advantage, but a rather sneaky and dazzling move. “That glow along with those sparks from Play Rough…that’s a contest-winning appeal, Absol!”

Absol spun around, head high and claws stretched in pride, crying along happily.

“Let’s keep going—when using Play Rough, try to move more elegantly along with the Ominous Wind! So that even when we’re in a situation with a disadvantage or the attack does less damage, we still put up a good show,” Drew announced, to which Absol immediately sprung up to the bark of the tree again, ready to try again.

When Drew commanded another “Go!” However, Absol paused, claws sharp and horn pointed at the cold, cloudy sky—its eyes read a sense of alert, concern, as he spontaneously spun away from the tree, growling lowly. “Absol?” Drew muttered, turning toward the disaster pokémon who seemed to be seething, growling under its breath, “What’s up?”

Absol had been looking far into the distance, right at Evergrande City’s plaza—the lights from the apartments and festivities for the new year bright, and overbearing compared to the dark and cloudy sky. “Is something the matter?” Drew asked, crouching beside Absol.

The growling pokémon seemed tense all over—his claws were widely spread apart, its cat-like canines flexed, and it was slightly crouching toward the ground, as though it was ready to pounce on an enemy—before it looked back at Drew from behind his shoulder with an angry but determined look, fur sharp and upright, as if to tell him, there’s trouble, we can’t waste any more time.

Drew nodded slowly at his partner, eyebrows tight and furrowed. “Show me the way!”

As they drew nearer to the main plaza of Evergrande City, the glare of festival lights intensified and the surrounding shouts swelled into a near-overwhelming dim. Then, without warning, an explosion tore through the space between the crowded booths and tents, sending a shockwave through the celebration as thick smoke began to spill out andsneak its way through the densely packed crowd.

“That’s not good,” Drew breathed, heart rate practically bursting out of his chest, “We need to do something! Let’s get closer,” he beckoned to Absol, who immediately ran out toward the haze of smoke.

He could barely see through the thick layers of smoke; the only thing he could register was shouting, explosions rumbling and the cries of Pokémon, and Absol didn’t seem to know what was happening any better—before a crazy strong hurricane sped through the street, dissolving the smoke with ease as if it had been nothing but a light feather.

It revealed a bunch of dark-clothed grunts, with a bold “R” embodied on their torso.

“Team Rocket,” he cursed.

He had encountered the organization only sparingly in the past, but those experiences were enough to teach him one thing: they were utterly ruthless. The sobs of frightened children and distressed Pokémon echoing through the air were yet another reminder that the group would stop at nothing to pursue their selfish, inhumane ambitions.

Nearby, several grunts loitered beside a towering, robot-like structure. From its underside hung a massive net, heavy with captured Pokémon—ranging from helpless infants like Igglybuff to fully evolved starter Pokémon. The grunts watched the chaos they had caused with manic laughter, jeering at the crowd as they shouted, “We’ve got your pokémon, and there’s nothing you can do about it!”

Absol growled lowly from beside him, ready to pounce—until a bright, familiar voice cut through the crying and laughter, bold and full of fury.

“You’re not getting away with this!”

Oh, shit—that can’t be.

And to his utter disbelief, May was standing there, legs wide and fists clenched. She was radiating anger all over, a Pokéball in her hand.

He didn’t know why Arceus happened to have everything set against him—the bet, the alcohol being too much, and now even May showing up at this chaos—but he could be far from surprised. May had always had a habit of attracting trouble, no matter what she did or where she was; he’d learnt that the hard way during the entirety of Hoenn and Kanto.

“Don’t interfere, kid!” The grunt yowled, pointing at May with a furious swing. “Any move of that Altaria of yours will destroy the entire net, and hurt the Pokémon along with it! You wouldn’t want that, would you?” he teased, glaring at the net full of crying pokémon with amused eyes, smirk wide.

May tensed; he could notice she muttered something under her breath, but the words were lost through the noise in the mass of people. Her eyes were soft, full of anger and worry—but most of all he saw a glint of helplessness, the fear of not being able to help. She was backed into a corner, so far even her almighty Altaria didn’t have a proper technique to stop the grunts; it made his heart ache for her.

“Absol,” Drew hissed, turning to his partner with newfound determination, his eyes sharp and reassuring. “We need to help May and save those Pokémon!”

Absol nodded immediately in response, horn high. 

“Use Psycho cut, but aim precisely at the top of the net so nobody gets hurt!” Drew commended, swinging his arm toward the robot-like structure. Absol complied and swung its horn sharply as it glowed, before sending a powerful, cutting wind toward the net, slicing through the threads with ease as if it was a weak string-shot attack.

May’s expression was one of complete disbelief, her breath catching as she softly murmured, “Drew?” when their eyes briefly met across the chaos. There was no time to dwell on the surprise, however. In the next instant, the net was torn apart, its strands ripping to shreds as the trapped Pokémon were finally freed, tumbling helplessly from the sky.

Reacting on instinct, May snapped into action. With a swift motion, she released Altaria, her brows knitting with urgency. “Altaria, use Cotton Guard!” she called out, “Catch them, quick! Don’t let any of those pokémon hit the ground!”

Altaria darted beneath the rain of falling Pokémon, its wings spreading wide as soft, cloudlike cotton rapidly  formed outward. In the quick of the moment, it formed a vast, thick mattress in the air, easily large enough to break the fall—every last pokémon safely landed on the cloud, crying out happily—as well as a startled Hoppip who immediately jumped off of the balloon, scurrying off through the mass of booths up ahead.

“Drats!” One of the grunts screamed as each pokémon went scurrying off to find their trainer, “there’s a hole in our plan!”

Drew jumped down from the sidewalk he’d been standing on, right in front of the humongous robot, Absol precisely in his steps. “Get lost,” he hissed. “I think you’ve caused enough trouble for today!”

The other grunt fumbled in response, grabbing a remote from his pocket. “You’re kidding—we’ve been sabotaged by two stupid teenagers…It looks like we’ve got to scram, Rick,” it hissed to his partner, ready to press any of the buttons it contained.

May however stepped forward, Altaria already back by her side, its wings spread wide. “No you don’t!” She protested. Her entire body was stiff—but not in fear, but in anger—she wasn’t letting these people go, not when they’d created such chaos. “You’re going to pay for ruining this festival for so many people, including me!” She roared, louder than a Pyroar. “Altaria, use Hurricane, now! Full power!”

The humming pokémon lifted itself into the sky at high speeds, before beating its wings manically. In a whim a large whirlwind circled the robot, damaging every corner before it got flung into the sky, the grunts being tossed away with it. “You brats, we’ll come back!” One shouted, the remote slipping from his grasp—until they disappeared into the horizon.

“That’s what you get for interrupting a fun time for so many people!” May yowled proudly.

“Not bad,” Drew complimented, grinning smoothly, Absol still by his side. “Using that Cotton Guard to catch the fall of those pokémon…that was smart, quick-thinking, May.”

May spun towards Drew, her cheeks a little rosy, as Altaria flew down to rest on her head, its wings curling back around its body. “T-Thanks!” she thanked, before fiddling at the hem of her skirt, “It’s all thanks to Altaria—and your Absol, too! I wouldn’t have known what I’d done if you didn’t show up to cut that net with your Psycho Cut right there…about that, what brings you here? You always avoid festivities with your heart and soul.”

“Absol and I were training, and it sensed something was wrong, so I followed it here to see those Team Rocket guys causing a ruckus again. You looked in a bit of a bind, so I thought I’d help,” he explained smoothly with a flick of his hair, his eyes teasing, but proud. “It seems that once again we make a pretty good team.”

May moved her hand up to her back to shyly scratch the back of her neck, a sheepish smile ensured. “We do, huh? It’s quite a coincidence we met again so soon after the party last night—I’d thought I’d see you again when you would already have won at least a ribbon or two..you gave me quite a surprise there.”

As if all the events from last night and the bet fall back on his shoulders he stiffened slightly, his cheeks reddening almost instantly. He had been so caught up in his amazement of her Altaria’s performance that he’d barely noticed she wore a Torchic mask at the side of her head. “Well, training is my top priority. I don’t have time to waste it at stupid festivals like you,” he excused, turning his head to have a proper excuse to break away from her gaze.

“I don’t waste my time at all!” May spat back, as Altaria on her head froze a little, startled. “The contest season just ended! Altaria and the others have worked very hard the past months, I think it’s totally deserved for them to have a break; and what better time than at a festival?” she explained, bending her arm over her head to comfortingly brush Altaria’s wing. “It’s nice, cheerful, and a nice break from the endless training and stress that contests bring along—why don’t you join me? Your Absol looks like it would like a break, too.”

Drew wanted to scoff, flip his hair and murmur that it was nonsense, and that Absol wished to train just as hard as he did–until he glared back at the disaster pokémon, who seemed to be looking around the festival with a curious, worn-out gaze–before he burst into a sigh, scratching his head. “Well, I suppose if it’s for a little bit it wouldn’t hurt. Besides, Absol did a lovely job getting rid of Team Rocket there.”

May clapped her hands in delight, before wrapping them around his, her smile wide and gaze cheerful. “Great! I’ll show you around—we’ve got so many different fun things to do here!” she chirped, blissfully unaware of how Drew seemed to melt into a puddle of lovesick goo in her grasp.

Drew could hardly move—May’s hold was gentle, sweet even, but despite that he couldn’t help but feel as if all the strength in his body had evaporated that moment. What do you do to me, May?, he asked himself, trying to maintain his cool composure.

As though Arceus itself had answered his silent prayers—despite how much he wished he could remain there, hand in hand with her—May gently slipped free of his grasp. A small girl had appeared at her feet, shoulders trembling as she sniffled and cried, her words tumbling out in panicked, incoherent fragments.

“M-Miss!” the girl squeaked through her tears. “The evil… guys… my… Hoppip… I’m scared… I don’t—”

May immediately dropped to her knees, positioning herself at the child’s level. Her expression softened at once, voice warm and steady as she offered reassurance. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay,” she murmured, drawing a little closer, wrapping an arm around her back for support. “Take a deep breath for me, all right? Slow down. Tell me what’s wrong.”

The girl wiped at her eyes, though the tears kept coming, streaking down her flushed cheeks. “Y-You saved all those Pokémon from the bad guys earlier, didn’t you?” she sobbed, clutching at May’s jacket as if afraid to let go. “I have a Hoppip, and… and she’s gone. I can’t find her anywhere.” Her voice wavered as her small body shook. “You don’t think the bad guys took her, do you? I—I don’t want that to happen. I don’t know what I’d do without her!”

“A Hoppip?” Drew murmured, remembering how he’d seen a startled Hoppip flee from the scene into the thick crowd of the booths. “I saw one run away in fear when May freed the Pokémon,” he exclaimed, on to which the girl immediately brightened up, her sobs subduing. “It fled somewhere in between the many booths and stalls here—it might be hiding somewhere since it looked really terrified.” With his hands shoved into his pockets he turned to May, who immediately pumped up her fists.

“Well then,” May chirped, “That’s good! It means she should be around here somewhere, right?” she hummed cheerfully, giving the girl a reassuring pat on the back. “We’ll help you find her, okay? Just dry those tears.” With a gentle swipe May removed a tear from the girl’s eye, who’d started to giggle softly, clearly reassured with the news. “Thank you, Miss!”

“Just call me May,” the brunette grinned.

Drew on the other hand felt a loss for words—so that’s what Solidad meant: getting to see all of her. She sat there, so patiently, hugging and comforting the girl so gently, even though that wasn’t her job. She understood and worried for the little girl, as well as her Pokémon—because that’s who she was; a gullible, clumsy, but an incredibly sweet girl. She cared for others, probably more than she cared about herself. “Oh, May,” he whispered, feeling his heart surge with admiration, making him remember why he’d come to love her so much in the first place.

“Let’s go search, then!” May piped up, rising from her feet, while Altaria chirped on her head. “We’ll all help you—we’ll find Hoppip in no time, I just know it!”

The girl giggled through her last subduing sobs, her cheeks red and tear-stained. “Thank you! If I got you helping out, I know we’ll find her!”

The red-clad brunette happily hummed as she raised her arm to brush Altaria’s wing comfortingly once more. “Altaria, will you help, too? I know the battle wore you out a bit, but it’s really important we find that Hoppip—can you search from the sky?” She asked shyly, before letting out a happy laugh as Altaria leaned into her hand, chirping out determinedly. “Thanks, Altaria!”

Drew turned to Absol, who was standing by his feet. “Absol,” he beckoned, “Can you help as well? Your ability to sense things with your horn could really come in handy—once this is over you can get back into your ball and rest for a bit, yes?”

Absol nodded gently in response, before drawing some steps forward, its horn angled toward the mass of people and booths up ahead—while Altaria shot into the sky, wings wide.

“Well, let’s go search!” May sang, gently taking the little girl’s hand in hers as she guided her through the festivities. Drew remained paused for a moment, watching the two walk off before he grunted slowly to himself. He expected to get some training in, not to walk around at a fair. But he couldn’t be mad—his Pokémon mattered a lot to him, too, and he couldn’t imagine if he’d lost one of them, even when he knew his Pokémon were strong, and independent. And mostly; part of him desired to remain by May’s side for today, as flustered and nervous he was about the bet.

“Well,” he huffed, “Time to search for that Hoppip.”

Altaria circled high above them, cutting through the sky in tight, deliberate loops like a predatory Fearow on the hunt, its cheerful chirps ringing out with excitement. Below, Absol suddenly broke into a run, heading straight toward the area beneath Altaria’s flight path—clear proof that they had found something.

“Look!” May exclaimed, pointing eagerly. “Altaria and Absol found something!”

Without hesitation, she took off in that direction, hand clasped firmly around the little girl’s as they hurried forward together, both of them equally thrilled by the discovery. Drew followed close behind with a quiet hum of relief, grateful to see the child’s earlier distress melt away, replaced by bright energy and laughter as they chased after Absol.

And there it was—a Hoppip, trembling as it tried to shelter itself beneath the hanging cloth of the booth. May had already knelt beside it, carefully lifting the fabric so the small Pokémon was fully visible. The little girl stood close at her side, calling out softly to the shivering Hoppip, her voice tight with worry.

“I didn’t realize the Hoppip had slipped under the table,” an older man said apologetically as he continued organizing the booth’s games. “I heard some chirping earlier, but I assumed it was just coming from the crowd.”

May shook her head. “No worries,” she reassured, “What matters most is that Hoppip is here, safe and sound—if anything, this might’ve been one of the safer spots on the plaza, especially with this cold weather. Hoppip looks incredibly cold.” she commented, pointing at the trembling pokémon. “Why don’t you use my scarf? It’ll be nice to keep it warm.”

“But… it’s yours, isn’t it?” the girl inquired worriedly, hesitantly grabbing the scarf from May’s hands once she’d pulled it off. “I don’t wanna take something that isn’t mine.”

“You can have it,” May offered, pressing the scarf deeper into the palm of her hands. “I have plenty of back-up scarves. Besides, what matters most now is poor Hoppip—it’s very cold out today, it’s best to keep it warm.”

The little girl hesitated before accepting the scarf and lowering herself to creep a bit under the table, and gently picked up Hoppip so it was in her arms again, her eyes teary. “Oh, Hoppip,” she sniffed—hugging the petite being gently—before wrapping her scarf around its tiny body, “I was so worried something happened to you. I’m so glad you’re safe…”

Hoppip cried out in relief, leaning into the little girl’s touch.

There May went again—lending her scarf for another, even though it was freezing out. He wanted to protest and tell her to keep the scarf, but seeing how the Hoppip’s trembling subdued, and how May looked so happy despite the cold, he left it.

“Looks like things ended well, after all,” Drew grinned. Absol had jumped beside him again, its eyes tired but clearly content knowing the Hoppip had returned safely to its trainer, “I’m glad you’re reunited again.”

“We’re certainly lucky it didn’t flee further,” May replied warmly, voice light and steady, “or else it could’ve been even more of a hassle.”

The girl didn’t hesitate for even a second. She rushed forward and threw her arms around May in a tight, grateful hug, careful not to loosen her hold on the Hoppip still nestled against her side. “Thank you so much, Miss May!” she cried, her voice thick with relief.

May smiled and hugged her back just as warmly, gently securing her arms around the child. “You’re very welcome,” she said softly.

“It’s all because of you—and your boyfriend, too!” the girl added brightly. “If it weren’t for you both, I never would’ve known what I should’ve done…”

Boyfriend!?

The word hit Drew like a brick. Heat rushed to his cheeks faster than he could stop it, his mind scrambling to catch up with his reaction.

“M–Me? And Drew?” May echoed, her face instantly turning scarlet. She froze for a heartbeat before dissolving into flustered, embarrassed giggles. “H–He’s definitely not my boyfriend!” she rushed to clarify, carefully loosening her hold on the girl so she could wave her hands in quick, dismissive motions. “He’s just a really good friend—and we work well together, that’s all. Really!”

The words shouldn’t have surprised him. Drew knew they were true. They weren’t dating—not even close. They worked together seamlessly, complemented each other’s strengths, and pushed each other forward. Still, something in his chest sank all the same. Hearing himself reduced so easily to just a friend—another rival from the contest circuit—left him feeling strangely unmoored.

“Oh,” the girl said quietly, her excitement fading into mild embarrassment. “I see…”

“W–Well!” May laughed again, a little too quickly this time, the sound faintly forced as she straightened and rose to her feet. Her eyes brightened as she gestured encouragingly at the little girl. “Hoppip’s safe now, so why don’t you go explore a few more booths and games? I’m sure Hoppip could use a bit of fun after all that chaos!”

The girl hummed thoughtfully before bursting into a rush of excitement, clutching her Hoppip tightly. “Yeah, you’re right! That’s what we came here for—right, Hoppip?” she inquired of her partner, who peeped happily in response, clearly satisfied with the idea. “Well then, Miss May, and mister Drew, I hope I’ll see you around! Bye!”

And with that the girl skipped off to a game booth further up ahead.

“Thanks for helping with everything, Drew—First Team Rocket, and then the little girl with her Hoppip,” May thanked sheepishly, turning to him with her dog-ear like bangs dangling in front of her blushing cheeks, “You were a huge help.”

She wasn’t serious, was she? He’d gladly help anyone out of a pinch, despite his aloof—and, sometimes, rather cold—attitude. She was the one who stood up against Team rocket to begin with, and to calm and comfort the little girl as she was sobbing her tears away. She was the one that needed to receive a thank you.

“Don’t thank me,” Drew responded, giving his hair a cool, non-chalant flick, “You were the one who stood up against Team Rocket, and comforted that girl while she was crying; I was only simply lending a hand—you’re the one who deserves some praise, May.”

May scratched her neck sheepishly, bouncing from one foot to another like she’d never ever been complimented before. “It’s not that noble of me, or anything. The people and pokémon here needed me; I can’t just stand by and watch how Team Rocket was causing all that Havoc, and neither can I let a child face something so stressful all alone. I do it with passion, really—helping people and making their day with small things is more worth it than any contest ribbon could be–ah—”

Drew instinctively felt himself unwrap his scarf from his neck before boldly stepping toward May, cutting her off effectively as he gently tangled the fabric around her bare neck.
“But it is noble,” He hummed, stepping back from her. He tried desperately to keep May from seeing his flushed face—he was practically red from head to toe, his warm breath evaporating into the cold afternoon air. “You stood up for everyone here all on your own, despite the danger you were in. You’re…you’re so…selfless,” he grunted, “But in a way, that’s what makes you such a lovable person.”

The words had escaped his mouth before he could properly chew on them—Immediately he shot even redder, and he drew his hands back in a hurry, as though the moment lingered too long they would scorch him.

“....M-Me? Lovable?” May spluttered in embarrassment, her face about as red as Drew’s was. “I–I mean.. you think so? I don’t…try to be, or anything..I guess I’ve just…learnt to care more about people and Pokémon throughout my journey…more than I did before—I was a pretty selfish and bratty kid..”

“...But you changed,” Drew murmured through his utter fluster, “And I’ve seen it. You don’t hesitate a second to help someone, even if it’s hard or inconvenient to you—that…makes you a loving person, May, despite whatever past you might have.”

May remained looking at him in awe, her cheeks red, and eyes wide; it looked as though she was registering every word he said. “...Are..you seriously being nice right now?” she asked, a little teasingly—though for the most part she seemed genuinely curious and surprised—as she dug her face deeper into his scarf, as if to hide her red face.

“Don’t get used to it,” he protested flatly, pushing down the nervousness in his throat with every ounce of energy he had left, “I just thought I’d tell you—since you think so lowly of yourself. Really, learn to be a bit more appreciative of the things you do and what you mean to people.” With a hasty turn he spun away from her, his gaze breaking away from hers.

The brunette blinked slowly before taking a hesitant but deliberate step towards him—her eyes softening as soon as she did—before she enveloped her hands around his, humming lightly. “W-Well…in any case, thank you, Drew. It means a lot coming from you.”

The moment her hands closed around his, Drew’s thoughts scattered entirely.

..She’s holding my hands.
..She’s thanking me.
… Why is she smiling like that?

His heart stuttered painfully in his chest, thudding so loud he was sure she could hear it. Every carefully built wall he’d thrown up moments earlier cracked at once, warmth flooding through him in waves far more intense than the cold air biting at his skin. He froze, unsure whether pulling away or staying still would be worse—and somehow, impossibly, he did neither.

Get it together, he scolded himself. You’re losing it!

His breath hitched, fogging in uneven bursts as he stared anywhere but at her face, the tips of his ears burning fiercely. He could feel the gentle pressure of her fingers, steady and real, grounding him even as his mind spiraled.

“—Eh… well…” His voice caught, and he swallowed hard, starting again. “Y–You’re welcome,” he managed, far quieter than before. “I just… meant what I said.”

The admission only made his pulse race faster.

Drew, get yourself together!

Instead, he found himself standing there, utterly undone, unable to pull his hands free this time even as his grip tightened just slightly in response. His chest felt too full, his thoughts too loud; an unfamiliar, terrifying kind of warmth blooming somewhere dangerously close to his heart.

He didn’t think she noticed—and even If she did notice any of it, she didn’t say a word.

…And that made it all worse.

“Well…thank you,” May hummed at last, her words breaking through the silence like a knife cutting through a fruit, “For the scarf, too—you sure you don’t want it? It’s really cold, and in any case I’ll manage.”

“You can keep it,” Drew insisted, waving it off even as he spoke. “I’m really not that cold—” he said, despite the way his fingers had long since gone numb, “—and you’re practically shivering.” He gestured pointedly at her hands, which were trembling despite her attempt to hide it.

“Besides,” he added with a small shrug, forcing a casual tone he didn’t quite feel, “I can always pick up another scarf later. It’s not a big deal.”

It kind of was a big deal. He still felt a little sick and hungover from the entire new-year’s party, and the cold air was cutting straight into his skin—but May mattered more to him. More than being warm in cold weather was to him, anyway. He dug his numb hands into his pockets, eyes fluttering closed.

“And people call me stubborn,” May giggled, pushing her nose deeper into the scarf.

“Your idioticness is rubbing off on me,” he tried to protest, though the words came out with far less conviction than he intended. Another soft, lilting giggle escaped the brunette, and Drew felt his chest tighten all over again.

He tried to focus elsewhere—on anything—except for the fact that she was nuzzling into his scarf. Into the exact spot, he realized then, where he’d brushed his lips against the fuzziness for comfort more times than he could count.

…Is that an indirect kiss? Is it?

The thought alone sent his mind into overdrive again.

“Hey!” May protested, spinning on her heel so fast the hem of her skirt waved through the air. “I’m not that bad.” She crossed her arms, then immediately uncrossed them as if the gesture didn’t quite do her justice. “I just happen to know how to stand my ground,” she added, chin lifting. Pride gleamed in her eyes as she puffed out her chest, the way someone might after claiming victory at the grand festival—absolutely certain she was in the right.

Drew let out a short, disbelieving scoff. “Yeah? That’s one way to put it,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “More like knowing how to be unnecessarily hard-headed.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, forcing down the heat that was creeping up his neck. The words came out sharper than he intended, his embarrassment leaking through despite his attempt to bluster his way past it.

If looks could kill, the daggers she shot him at that moment were criminally murderous.

May didn’t let him protest—she never did.

One moment they were walking through the endless crowd of game booths, and the next May had curled her fingers around his wrist and pulled him over toward the photobooth—that stood in the corner of a street, like it was meant to be a secret—the curtains were half-drawn, the glowing sign beside it glittering as brightly as May’s posture. “Come on, Drew,” she’d begged, “Just one photo!”

Drew couldn’t get himself to fight back—with the way May’s eyes were bright, and pleading, but full of joy—he sighed in defeat, muttering a “Fine”, as the Brunette chirped out happily, tugging him along gently.

Inside the tent, everything felt about ten times smaller. The seat was hardly big enough for the two of them to sit on without their bodies touching; her legs brushed against his, and her shoulder happened to touch his arm just by an inch. The light was dim and forgiving, making May’s skin almost seem softer—about that he tried not to dwell—before the curtain closed shut, making her breathing seem louder than it did before.

With a flicker of a light the countdown started.

May stupidly leaned into the camera, pulling a face, exaggerated—her eyes wide, cheeks plump and the silliest smile she’d ever worn adoring her lips. The flash went off again, and the Brunette let out a cheerful giggle before flexing another expression as the next lights flashed, as if nothing else there mattered to her.

…Drew didn’t move.

He couldn’t help but watch her from the corners of his eyes; the way her laughing made crinkles in the corner of her eyes. The way she seemed to forget everything around her when she laughed like that. The way she was so close to him, that he could almost feel the warmth and joy radiate off of her body. He forgot about the camera, in the midst of his awe for May—all he could do was gaze at her stupidly, eyes wide and cheeks scarlet—like he’d never seen anything more pure and beautiful.

He hadn’t ever seen anything more beautiful.

As the last light flashed he burst from his daydreaming; he almost stumbled in mere startlement, but for the sake of not embarrassing himself even more in front of May than he already had, he recovered himself and mustered a smirk, glaring up at the camera—that moment he prayed to Arceus he didn’t look stupid on the photos.

He did.

May had pulled out the strip of photos with a bright, excited smile, who melted into one of mere confusion as she inspected the pictures. “Drew, why were you looking at me like that?” She asked, skeptically, batting an eyebrow at him as if she’d figured out his secret.

Shit. Focus, Drew, he told himself. He forced his eyes back to the strip, trying to ignore the heat crawling up his neck. The photos are exactly what he expected—May pulling ridiculous faces, all wide eyes and exaggerated expressions—but they showed more than that. In every frame, he was there too, caught staring at her, mouth agape, cheeks unmistakably flushed. He swears under his breath, annoyed that the camera managed to capture the color so perfectly, even in the dim booth light. “Your exaggerated expressions were ridiculous and distracting,” he excused, smoothly, despite the speed of his speaking wavering in between. “It was almost shocking.”

May puffed up her cheeks again, but this time she looked rather offended, as her eyebrows were tightly furrowed and her stance had strengthened. “They weren’t!” she pouted. “That’s how a photo booth works, Drew, you pull fun faces. You could learn a thing or two, with your stupid smirks. Don’t you know how to smile?”

Drew folded his arms, grunting. “I smile plenty, but you just don’t see it since you constantly drag me into stupid situations like these,” he retorted, watching as May looked at him skeptically again, letting out a soft groan.

“Of course, mister grumpy-pants,” she grumbled back, before spinning back around, grabbing a second copy of the photo strips. “You want one, as a souvenir? I think I look really silly—unless you’re allergic to that kind of fun, too?” She bat an eyebrow, looking at him with the most criticizing and disappointed look she managed to muster.

He felt a little offended that she thought he didn’t like fun. He did, he certainly did—but his definition of fun was more different than that of May’s. Coordinating and battling were his main passions, aside some smaller ones like tending to plants and flowers—not walking around the globe like everything was a party, from photobooths to festivals to trips. But he couldn’t detest being in the photobooth with her; he barely had moments he’d felt closer to May.

“I’ll take it,” he hummed softly, shyly taking the strip from her hands. “If I ever need a laugh this’ll come in handy.”

May snorted angrily, clearly fed up and unimpressed. “Oh, wow, thanks for the sincere compliment,” she exclaimed dryly, rolling her eyes so hard it almost was a wonder they didn’t get stuck, “Glad to hear my carefully crafted silliness exists solely for your personal support and comfort.”

While she was grumbling on and on, Drew pushed the strip of photos gently down his pocket—careful, and deliberate, like he had to treasure the thing like a fragile pot of glass. He’d never admit it out loud, but he was glad to have a souvenir from a moment he’d spent with May. The Liechi and Bluk berries were rather short term, but this…he could hang this up on his wall. Look at it once in a while, if he’d miss seeing her. He’d get to see that look on her face over and over again.

Drew’s thoughts only lingered there, reminiscing on the way she’d smiled, stuck her tongue out or the way her eyes lightened up every time the camera flashed—the thoughts alone made him feel soft and incredibly warm inside. That moment he realized, every new bit he’d discovered of May felt…special. It felt rewarding, and fulfilling—it made him wonder what else May hid behind that proud coordinator exterior of her. He already imaged how the photostrip would be hung up right beside his bedside table, so he could look at her whenever he’d miss that smile.

“—Oh! Drew, look at that!”

May’s voice snapped him out of his reverie harder than a hyper voice. He blinked, snapping back to there and then, just in time to see May’s eyes light up as she pointed at a souvenir stand up ahead, its roof decorated with lights and signs of Pokémon. The stand was overflowing with keychains, trinkets and photos, the pricetags poorly sticked below them with tape. Whatever it was, May seemed all too excited.

But before he could muster a reply—or move at all for a matter of fact—May took him by his wrist and hauled him along. “Come on!” She insisted, already halfway there, “They’ve got adorable stuff there! I need to get something!”

Being too tired and too much in a daze to protest, he let her drag along all the way until the booth, his feet merely moving on autopilot. His mind, on the other hand, wasn’t that far ahead—his thoughts remained stuck on the photostrip tucked in his pocket, the cheerfulness in her voice and the way she seemed to brighten up every space, no matter where she was.

May was already hanging all over the booth, staring at the trinkets with wide eyes as she conversated with the stand’s founder—a cheerful girl about her age—but Drew couldn’t help but nod mindlessly, not taking in a single word May and the girl exchanged then. He couldn’t focus, even if he tried; while that little trip to the photobooth had been a passing exchange for May, to him it certainly wasn’t.

A small paper bag was exchanged.

Drew didn’t notice.

It wasn’t until May turned toward him, grinning ear to ear, a paper bag outstretched toward him—the Shuppet logo on the bag almost making him startle. Drew managed a smirk the moment she turned toward him, focus finally shifting back into place. He couldn’t bear to embarrass himself even more, after all.

“Here,” May chimed before digging into the bag and pulling out an acrylic keychain of a Skitty—who had its tail shaped into a curve upward—with a little magnet on the side.

He blinked at the keychain, genuinely startled and confused before he could get to thinking what it was for. “Huh?” He muttered, grasping the keychain tenderly with a loose hand, “—Where did that thing come from?”

May paused—looking at him skeptically—before she scoffed, clearly unimpressed. “Wow, Impressive,” she deadpanned. “I only spent, like…a minute or two deciding whether I wanted to get it or not.”

Well, that certainly didn’t make his embarrassment feel any less heavy.

He coughed, scratching his neck coolly—feigning indifference—before he fought up a smirk, not willing to humiliate himself even further, right after he told himself he wouldn’t. “I was being sarcastic,” he excused, “I would have fallen asleep if it wasn’t for you shoving that bag into your face. You surely like to take your time with everything.”

May growled. She almost started seething, but it seemed that she was able to keep her cool by grasping the paper bag a little harder with her palm. “Well, if you’re gonna be so smug about it I can also just give it to someone else. Ash surely would be more appreciative of this deed,” she commented, eyeing him sharply like a judging Purrugly.

That stung—she just had to bring up Ash.

“No, I like it,” he exclaimed—a bit too fast than he’d meant—before pulling his hand back to his side, his palms feeling incredibly warm with the idea she’d given him another trinket. “I was only teasing you, no need to get so fired up.”

The red-clad coordinator in front of him immediately seemed brightened up, like she wasn’t irritated a second ago, eyes wide and a knowing, happy smile perched on her lips. “Good!” She chimed in, “Because I don’t just buy things for people. Besides—”

May started digging into the paper bag again, before pulling out an almost identical keychain—but flipped. “—I got a matching one for myself!” She announced, cheekily—trying to fight off the heat from her cheeks with a few embarrassed giggles—before she let it dangle in front of his face. “C’mon! Let the magnet on yours connect to mine!”

Drew was too much in fluster to protest, or to even ask what she was trying to do—so he outstretched the charm again without hesitating, before letting the magnets on the keychains connect, a soft cling resounding.
The result almost let him choke, if it weren’t for the fact he was already desperately trying to fight off the embarrassment that previously lingered all over his body; the two Skitty charms, now connected with the magnets, were forming a heart-like shape—almost simultaneously the heat rushed further to his cheeks than before, and he tried not to stumble over his words. “A–Ah,” he murmured aloud in surprise, “That’s—nice. It’s.. pretty cheesy,” he fumbled, cursing at himself when he just couldn’t flex a smirk.

“It’s not cheesy,” May retorted back hotly, pointing at the charms with her index-finger. “It’s cute. I want you to have it, since—since I… well…” she stammered, suddenly pulling the keychain away as though she realized how close she was getting, “...I.. appreciate you,” she added, softly, turning her head ever so slightly. “—For all that you’ve done for me, a-and…you mean a lot to me. E–Even if you’re so smug and infuriating all of the time.”

If he wasn’t a hot mess before, he certainly was now.

“W-Wow, uh…” Drew replied, hesitantly—before pulling his hand holding the charm back to his sides, “That’s…really kind of you, May,” he murmured, his words barely a lost breath, “I might not really be the biggest fan of events and festivities like this, but…with you, I suppose I enjoy it a little more. It’s nice to just..see you, and spend some time together outside of the contest field; it’s.. nice. A nice break from all the tension.”

May shoved her hands behind her back, the crinkling sound of the bag the only thing that seemed to break through the silence of the moment. “Y–Yeah,” she squeaked. “So that.”

He felt so damn embarrassed for getting so raw and honest in front of her—he wouldn’t have ever lived it down if May would’ve teased him about it—but she didn’t. She genuinely seemed happy and relieved, the soft, shy smile adorning her face. She wasn’t all in for teasing; she much rather seemed appreciative he returned the favor by telling her what he really thought, which was something he usually desperately tried to avoid.

But even if she was truly enjoying the moment, he wasn’t one for sappy stuff.

“Still, I’m not really surprised you’d get something so stupid and utterly cheesy—I should’ve seen it coming,” he commented sassily—with a flick of his hair—as May stiffened immediately, the happiness drained from her face as fast as it had come.

“I’m not always so cheesy!” May retorted, her hands flying to her hips as she seethed. “I just wanted to thank you for being there when I needed it, and this is what I get?” she growled like a Purrloin—though, in his eyes, she looked more like a fired up Skitty—as she stomped over to another booth, nostrils flaring.

Drew grinned widely. “Hey, wait up!” he laughed, honestly, though a hint of teasing lingered in his voice, “I was just getting back at you for dragging me around this festival.”

But May only whipped her head around and stuck out her tongue in response.

By the time the sky began to darken, the festival had started to fall into the soft, humming lull that came after the laughter and cheering from all around. The game booths started to close one by one—the huge neon glowing signs fading out, and canvas flaps from the booths tied back in the darkness. Drew could almost still smell the lingering scent of the lollipops and popcorn May had bought and chugged down without problem. Now they were walking through the plaza still, May sucking on a piece of candy while Drew tiredly walked beside her, eyes heavy.

“There’s going to be a fireworks show,” May had exclaimed happily. “And not just fireworks, but Pokémon fireworks in specific! It’s been so long since I’d seen them.”

Drew that moment almost felt nostalgic at that—though May wasn’t aware, originally when they’d first met Drew had happened to see the fireworks from afar, and had come closer as Roselia was bouncing up and down with excitement, never having seen fireworks herself. He wasn’t one to be awfully sappy, but the idea of watching the fireworks with her this time instead of a distance away without her knowledge, felt…comforting. It almost made the heat rise back up to his cheeks.

He didn’t protest—he didn’t need to.

After a while of walking had passed by, May had spotted a nice corner on the edge of the fairgrounds, with a stunning view over the sea. The crowd wasn’t as apparent here, so he finally felt like he was able to breathe.

May sat down, knees pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped around her legs. Although she didn’t explicitly say it aloud, it was obvious May was excited—very excited. She was looking up at the sky with bright, curious eyes, her feet practically bouncing. He wanted to look up at the sky, waiting for the fireworks to surprise him, but…he couldn’t. He couldn’t bear moving his eyes from May. Her eyes were sparkling, smiling wide, like a little kid about to retrieve their first partner Pokémon.

As the humming of the crowd up ahead had succumbed into the late evening, the first piece of firework unleashed into the sky, pouring out to a huge, sparkling explosion of a little Swablu, and May instantly shot to reach for Altaria’s pokéball. “Swablu..” she murmured, happily, looking up at the starry sky with loving eyes.

The firework was bright, and beautiful.

But yet, despite that, May seemed to shine brighter.

The sky soon exploded, from fireworks illustrating Wynaut to Lovedisc—it was giving Drew the feels like this show was particularly set up for them, specifically. He tried not to blush as May pointed up into the sky with an amazed smile and red cheeks, murmuring “How romantic the setting was.”

May remained gazing starry-eyed at the display of fireworks, not moving an inch—she almost seemed entranced. She was smiling stupidly, calling out excitedly whenever a Pokémon that she’d met or known popped up, not noticing a moment Drew was staring.
Drew wanted to move, turn toward the fireworks, and hum along that they were bright, and beautiful, but his limbs wouldn’t move. He was frozen, rooted to the spot like a Deerling caught in headlights. He didn’t want to sound lovesick, or to sound sappy—but May was more beautiful and bright than the fireworks could’ve ever been. He would’ve watched her over and over, and he couldn’t ever get bored.

Curse Arceus for doing this to me.

The fireworks continued raging on, every moment one got fired whistling pierced through the air—but not strong enough to make him snap to reality, or to move. “Y’know, May, I—”

Just then a firework—louder than any of the explosions before—boomed over the area, cutting off his words, as though Arceus had it out for him. May turned toward him, eyes soft and curious, her dog-like bangs drooping past her face. “Huh?” She murmured, as if unsure he’d said something.

“I—” Drew stumbled, instinctively flipping his head away as his body finally let him, “I’m— I’m glad that you’re here,” He admitted, slowly—too hesitant to look back at May—before he let out a bottled up breath. “It’s nice.. you know, watching fireworks like this with you.”

Drew almost felt like he’d said something wrong as a shattering silence fell over the moment, seemingly even the fireworks going mute. He turned his head, afraid, only to see May gazing at him with surprised, wide eyes, her mouth agape like she’d never ever witnessed him being so honest. “A–Ah…really?” May hummed, her cheeks reddening simultaneously.

“Y–Yeah,” Drew replied, with an awkward and flustered brush on his arm, “I don’t have much time I get to just…live in the moment like this,” he admitted, turning his head to look back up at the sky, who had at last continued to explode with Fireworks again. "It's…nice. It’s comforting. It’s—it’s nice, having you here.”

May hummed softly, turning back to the fireworks herself. “Well,” she chimed gently, wrapping her arms around her legs a little tighter, “I’m.. glad. It’s nice you being here too, just…being. No rivalry, no battling, no nothing. Just…us. Watching these fireworks—they’re beautiful, aren’t they?” She smiled cheekily, head lifting as a final firework illuminating a Torchic exploded in the sky.

“Yeah,” The chartreuse haired boy sighed at last, turning his head to look at May again.

"... They are.”

The jute doormat rumbled as Drew tiredly shoved open his apartment’s door, the soft bedlamp he had left on beside his bed still glowing warmly, as if welcoming him back home from the long day he’d had. He groaned lightly, closing the door before kicking off his shoes, who whacked slightly as they bumped into the wooden door. “What a hassle,” he huffed, under his breath, dropping his Pokéballs back on the cabinet.

7:34PM his digital clock read in bright, bold letters, and only then Drew realized how much time had passed by since he went out to train and to end up at the carnival—getting endlessly dragged around by May—until he finally managed to make a detour home, his feet and fingers frozen as as hard as stone.

Once the ending fireworks had been displayed and gotten over with, May and Drew shared some ice cream at last before parting ways. Despite the hours she’d spent running around, playing arcade games and staring starry-eyed at trinket booths, she was oddly enthusiastic still, bouncing all over the place like a little kid—like her energy didn’t have a limit—until she, at last, sunk into a bench at the edge of the plaza, eyes heavy.

Not long after they went to say their goodbyes, and Drew almost for a moment felt himself wanting to protest, to say one more thing to her—anything, even the most subtle thing to possibly express the way he felt toward her—but his body had different plans, and like clockwork he’d turned around, muttered a “See ya”, and threw a short two-fingered salute behind his shoulder, trying to push down the warmth that surged in his heart once May had exclaimed “See you later, Drew! Thank you for today!”.

The strip of photos from the photobooth and the skitty keychain suddenly seemed about ten times as heavy, then.

With a yawn he dragged himself to the foot of his bed, the mattress basically screaming to him to join—and he gave in. With heavy, tired limbs he crawled onto the covers, but not before gently taking the souvenirs from his pocket and placing them delicately on the bedside table, eyeing them for a brief moment before lashing the blankets over himself.

His stomach grumbled. Despite the few snacks May had forced onto him at the festival, his stomach felt like a bottomless pit—which wasn’t too odd, considering he hadn’t eaten a thing during the morning, as he was a bit too busy with Solidad’s teasing and throwing up to have any concerns to do so.

He’d order takeout tonight.

With a lazy swipe of his Rotomphone he contacted the best, nearby Pizzaria, ordering a simple Caprese pizza—who, as much as he hated to admit, he favoured and liked a bit too much—before requesting the earliest drop-off time, turning off his phone and shoving it underneath his pillow, to crawl further underneath his blankets. His phone buzzed once or twice, but he had no care.

He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep until the pizza delivery man’s ring at the door jolted him awake.

The smell of pizza flooded the room almost instantly. He barely had time to register it before his stomach growled louder than ever, and he shuffled over to one of the cheap, flimsy chairs by the window. He sank into it and devoured the slices, only then realizing how desperately he’d been craving a proper meal since he’d turned himself into a drunken, nauseous wreck.

But when his eyes drifted to the strip of photos and the Skitty charm on his desk, the nausea threatened to crawl back up his throat. It was only the first day of January—the morning after the party, the morning after the terrible bet he’d agreed to—and confessing now felt far more daunting than he’d ever imagined. With a groan, he shoved the thoughts aside and kept chewing, hoping the pizza would finally settle his stomach and bring some relief.

Once he’d finished the pizza he stumbled over to his bedside table and stuck the photostrip to the wall with an old, barely used roll of rose patterned washi tape, the heat rushing up his neck like a volcano.

If Solidad knew about this, he’d be done for.

And right at that moment—with impeccable, almost cruel comedic timing, as if Arceus itself had come down from the heavens to personally remind him of the mess he’d gotten into, his phone chimed again.

He retreated to his bed like a startled Sentret, phone clutched loosely in his hand as he collapsed onto the mattress. The day’s exhaustion weighed heavy on his limbs, eyes burning and sore, body still chilled to the bone from hours spent trudging through snow that refused to let the cold go. He didn’t even need to look at the screen to know who it would be. Of course it was Solidad. Of course she’d chosen now. It was only the second time he’d spoken to her since the spectacular disaster that had been last night’s party, and she was already right back to her favorite sport—teasing him until he was empty.

The screen lit up with her message, laced with smugness even through a mere text.

So, May messaged me you two hung out at the festival?

Before Drew could even begin to formulate a response, another message appeared, quick and merciless.

You’re bold to meet up with her again so soon, Mr rose.

He groaned aloud and yanked the covers up and over himself in a violent, defensive sweep, as if cotton and blankets might somehow shield him from Solidad’s perception. His phone felt cold in his hands, his fingers stiff and slow as they hovered over the keyboard, still numb from the winter air that clung to him no matter how far indoors he was. Frustration pooled in his chest, hot and helpless. He typed back furiously, barely thinking, desperation bleeding into every word.

This bet is impossible. Forget it.

He hit send and exhaled, hoping—foolishly—that it would end there, that maybe she’d finally let it drop.

The reply came instantly, so fast it was almost eerie, as if Solidad had been staring at the screen with a knowing smile, finger already hovering over the send button.

So you do want to confess? ;)

A strangled sound tore from Drew’s throat. He turned his face and slammed it into his pillow, muffling his groan as the weight of the year ahead crashed down on him all at once. “This year’s going to kill me,” he muttered into the fabric, voice rough and defeated.

update again! hereby my official May & Drew designs for chapter one! once again drawn by yours truly.

Chapter Text

Heart balloons, chocolate trinkets, kissing couples, stuffed Pokémon plushes, and depictions of cupids and love everywhere—the month of love had come faster than he’d anticipated, and Valentines Day had hit him like a brick in the face.

The streets in Mauville city were packed with children, teens, adults and Pokémon as far as the eye could see. Drew had only planned for a short trip to the Pokémon center to stock up on some potions and Pokéballs that he’d been missing, but he didn’t expect to be flooded with fans and reporters curious about whether he had happened to find a valentine or not—so he did the first thing that came to mind: escape.

He found a secluded spot behind the humongous Mauville mall, with barely any people to be found except a few couples, who—to his utter unease and mortification—happened to be making out within the shady, dark halls, hidden from the average public that were storming the streets.

That certainly was one of the ways you could celebrate Valentines.

He retreated to the outskirts of town then, facing a pond, with Roserade standing by his feet, enjoying the mildly cold February breeze—chirping occasionally as a Zigzagoon scattered by, zigzagging through the grass. For the first time that day he genuinely felt relaxed, and allowed himself to sink back into one of the benches surrounded by bristling bushes and leaves, exhaling softly.

The environment was quiet—almost too quiet—before a duo of Nidoran hopped through the grass, by his feet, gently nuzzling each other while trilling out happily, almost like a melody. Roserade, who was sitting beside him still, chirped in delight and clasped her bouquets together dreamily, before snapping her head back up and giving Drew the most provoking and teasing look she’d ever been able to muster. Drew’s face drained color, and his eyebrows immediately tightened.

“Roserade.” He warned sternly, but without prevail—as Roserade peeped in response, which almost seemed like a laugh—before he sunk deeper into the bench, groaning aloud. “You know I don’t do the mushy Valentine love stuff—the only reason I’m sitting here with you right now is to take a break from that horde of fangirls…geez, I should’ve thought going out to buy necessities on Valentine’s of all days would’ve been an awful idea before…”

Roserade eyed him with a critical look, folding her bouquet-like arms across her chest sharply, as if she had taken his actions as a personal slight. “Roo,” she uttered bitterly, her voice carrying a note of angered judgment as her eyelids sank into low, disdainful half-closed eyes. Drew responded with a quiet scoff, nudging a loose pebble at his feet with an impatient kick while eyeing her with an equally unyielding glare of his own, as though the moment were a game he wasn’t going to lose. He had no intention of allowing Roserade to gain the upper hand again—he had already made the mistake of lowering his guard around her far too many times before.

He had no interest in Valentines.
He had better things to do.

Roserade shrugged loosely before sauntering over to the side of a pond that was blooming with Snowdrops and Crocuses, towering above the ragged, frosted grass. Drew noticed she almost instantly started conversating with a Lumineon who was floating up the water’s edge, its fins vibrating happily as it chirped along with Roserade. At last he had a break from her endless judgement.

Even when he almost got tramped by the horde of fangirls, photographers and reporters, Roserade coolly stood by his side, giving her leaf cape a confident flick—that only earned more gushing from the crowd—as he desperately tried not to get sandwiched, pushing through the lack of space he had. 

She was relaxed, almost too relaxed.

When she was a little Roselia she’d always had that smugness. “Like Pokémon, like trainer,” they said, which he couldn’t mind at all; even though Roselia was a little rough around the edges when it came to situations she humored, she always remained by his side, always lending a rose hand if he was in a pinch. He appreciated that, more than he could admit in his bottomless pit of confidence.

But, then, once Roselia had made the decision to use the shiny stone he’d kept in his bag if he ever needed it, the tides changed faster than a Kyogre summoning a tsunami. She turned haughty—even more than she was before. What started as being awfully smug and cheerful when he was getting teased by Solidad or Harley, soon transitioned into relentless teasing of her own, judgemental looks and finding amusement in any moment he was only a step outside of his comfort zone—it was as if she enjoyed every second of his suffering.

“It’s becoming more and more like she’s ordering me around much rather than the other way around,” he scoffed, digging in his pocket to grab her Pokéball to examine it. “I really need to man up—but she’s impossible.”

He visibly shook in startlement as the Rotomphone in his pocket buzzed, the eardeafening—and rather irritating—tune May had set on it for him, chirping out loud as if it was celebrating the festivities. He pouted, and with a grunt he reached for the phone in his pocket.

“SOLIDAD”

The moment her name flashed across the screen, whatever remnants of energy he had left seemed to drain from him entirely. His fingers tightened instinctively around the phone, knuckles whitening as his wide eyes fixated on the display. Even her profile picture had changed—Roserade was no longer the only one who had changed.

When Drew had first met Solidad, she embodied the very qualities she was known for: gentle yet assured, wise without being distant. She was always cool, calm, and composed, possessing an uncanny ability to assess a situation and find the right solution. Whenever he struggled, she offered either a steady hand or words of insight drawn from quiet experience. He remembered the way she would smile softly, tilt her head, and extend her hand toward him, saying, “Hey, that was an amazing battle,” even when he had been crouched on one knee, tears blurring his vision as he tended to his injured Roselia. Despite her flashes of humor and spirited charm, Solidad always seemed to know precisely what to say—and when to say it.

She never stepped over his boundaries.

But these days even she seemed to. He prayed to Arceus that she wouldn’t bring up any sensitive topics he wasn’t willing to talk about.

“Hi, Sol,” Drew sighed, picking up the Rotomphone to lift it up to his ears.

“G’morning, Drew!” Solidad chirped—as enthusiastic as ever—before she slipped into a more amused tone, her voice vibrating through the phone like a melody. “How’ve you been doing? The first contests have taken place, and I can bet you have already tried your hand in at least one or two.”

Ah, the old contest talk—it had become almost clockwork between the two. Whenever they called, or met up, they’d always spend at least an hour chatting away about contests, winning appeals they’d seen, and even threatening and outstanding—or sometimes utterly embarrassing and interesting—competitors. He’d lend his opinion, and Solidad would scoff and tell him there “was appeal in it, although it was a bit interesting”. It was no personal talking; only chatting about the mutual interest they’d found in performing.

“Morning,” he replied lazily, lifting his loose hand to scratch the nape of his neck, his bangs slipping in front of his eyes. “Been doing well—training a lot, of course. I’ve managed to score a ribbon already at Mossdeep city. It was a bit of a hassle getting there, but I didn’t want to miss the first contest of the season; it was bustling with excitement and coordinators. This surely won’t be an easy year.”

Solidad emitted a whole-hearted laugh, almost vibrating. “I shouldn’t have expected anything different—well done, Drew! Though I must say, I would have expected you at least would’ve attended a contest or two more. It’s already February, and you’re not one to take it slow. Anything…on your mind?” she asked—rather teasingly—her voice dripping with amusement that he could even hear deaf.

Drew almost fell off the bench, his neck flaring with heat as if he’d been caught red-handed. “What—?” he spat back immediately, before pulling the phone from his ear to settle it in front of his face, his hands trembling. “Why do you think that’s the conclusion!?” he fumbled, holding strong in his stubbornness despite the warmth rushing to his cheeks.

“I didn’t say what’s on your mind. Hearing you’re so flustered and panicked immediately tells me more than any words could have said,” Solidad hummed amusedly. She had taken a brief detour to breathe in the fresh air of Dewford Island, two hard-earned ribbons safely secured in her ribbon case. Now, she sat inside the Pokémon center, settled into one of the lobby couches, her gaze drifting past the windows and out toward the distant, glimmering sea. “So, May—you made any more moves?”

“Solidad!” He squeaked—his voice shooting so high he almost sounded like before he’d gotten into puberty—as he almost launched himself forward, his yelp making even Roserade turn around from the conversation she’d been confided in. “Will there not be a single moment where you won’t bring May up? I have enough on my mind as it is!” He fired back, crumbling nearly as Roserade sent him an amused grin.

The pink haired woman hummed back amusedly into the phone, Roserade now making her way to stand by Drew’s feet again, clearly not willing to miss out on the conversation. “So she has been distracting you?” She commented fondly, the glee of her tone sparking out brightly.

“No,” He wanted to reply, but the judgemental stare of Roserade piercing through his body made the words fade on his tongue. He hesitated—before he let out a sigh in defeat, his shoulders loosening. “...A little. I’d seen one of her performances in Verdanturf on TV, and…she’s as strong as ever. She’ll be tough to beat, and I don’t wanna lack behind,” he excused himself, trying to keep the words of “and I can’t stop thinking about her” behind his teeth.

Solidad hummed thoughtfully, but her words seemed a little skeptical as though she didn’t fully trust his word. “And that’s everything?”

Drew stiffened again, and Roserade immediately jumped on his lap and chirped into the phone to Solidad. What she was saying—he had no idea—but he certainly had a hunch she wasn’t on his side. Solidad let out a laugh before humming into the phone again, her tone practically leaking with pleasantry. “Really,” She cooed, “Is that so?”

“Roserade!” He panicked, pulling the phone away from Roserade to hold it back up to his ear, as both the Pokémon and Solidad laughed, clearly enjoying Drew’s discomfort and embarrassment. “Don’t—don’t listen to her. She’s speaking nonsense just to embarrass me,” he concluded—a little too fast—before Roserade offendedly pointed at him with her bouquet-like hands, protesting.

“—Ugh–Yeah, Okay, I might be thinking about May a bit more than just her improvement and performances,” he admitted, hissing the words through his teeth with all the energy he could muster, the heat rushing to his face. “I can’t help it. She’s…so incredibly bright. When she performs and when she’s all herself,” Drew added, his hissing shifting into a soft murmur. “It makes…it makes me want to see her again; but it unnerves me because I never know when.”

Solidad chuckled, but this time the laugh sounded a lot more light and carefree, as if she found his admiration for May adorable. “She’s always bouncing all over the place, attracting chaos wherever she goes—you won’t miss her if she’s around. You’ll find her, but you need to make it happen rather than avoiding it to protect your own fragile ego.”

“My ego is not fragile,” Drew hissed back, Roserade laughing by his side again.

“I’m afraid your ego may be one of the most fragile I’ve ever encountered, kid,” she teased, her voice laced with lighthearted amusement. He could almost picture the familiar expression that would have accompanied it—the knowing smile, the glint of mischief in her eyes. Had she been standing beside him at that moment, she undoubtedly would have reached out to ruffle his hair purely to provoke him further. The thought alone made his patience crumble even further; he knew he wouldn’t have been able to handle that, not then. For that, he silently thanked Arceus that she was on the opposite side of Hoenn, separated from him by an entire stretch of sea.

“Ugh,” Drew grumbled. “Why’d you even call me in the first place? To tease me and remind me about that stupid—cursed—wicked—awful bet?” he asked into the phone’s mic, a bit too loud.

“Yes,” Solidad answered cheerily despite his voice blaring through the mic like the roar of a Tyranitar, “And to check up on you. You do know it’s Valentines today, right? The day of love—a perfect moment to prepare for your grande, romantic confession to May?”

Drew cringed. He had considered making moves, but he certainly hadn’t thought of the whole confession ordeal immediately. That was a hill too far up—not only was he unsure of May liking him back in the first place, he barely even knew a thing about making moves. He’d been gushed and drooled about if he was simply standing there doing nothing, always getting the flick of the paparazzi—a natural born talent, a gentleman he was, they said—but despite the hordes of girls May never batted an eye at him. If he had so much charm, why did May seem so unaffected? How the hell was he supposed to confess if he didn’t know how to get to work?

“Yeah,” Drew grumbled back, lazily flicking his bangs out of his face, “Because I know all about confessing.”

“You don’t need to be an expert. You toss roses and flick your hair all around, and see how far that has gotten you with the ladies,” Solidad mused happily. “It’s Valentines for Arceus’ sake—look around you. See what others do to make their loved one happy. You won’t get anywhere if you avoid it all and don’t at least try.”

“You know May isn’t your average standard girl,” Drew mustered, clutching the phone in his hand a little tighter. At the mere idea of her his heart seemed to start beating faster—he didn’t know what it was that she held, but she made him feel more vulnerable than anyone ever had, simply by just…being. “When I tease, she gets all fired up—when I give her an actual compliment, she seems like she doesn’t one hundred percent believe it—meanwhile any other would be all over me. Besides, what are the chances that I bump into May here? Knowing her she’s probably shopping in a clothing store I’ll never dare to enter, even with Roserade’s Poison Jab pointed at me.” 

Roserade looked up curiously at the mention of her name before she grinned rather smugly, going unnoticed by Drew before the phone chimed again. “May’s a special girl for sure,” Solidad replied. “But you’ll find your way—just think of something. Something small that could mean a lot. And you never know, May has a habit of appearing when you least expect it.”

“She does,” Drew scoffed. “Always when you least expect it.”

Once again, Solidad had been exactly right. May had an uncanny habit of appearing at the very moments he least expected her—whether it was on Mirage Island, somewhere halfway across Kanto, or even during the rare occasions when he believed he might finally enjoy a quiet, uneventful day to himself. Without warning, she would simply be there. You’d blink, and suddenly she stood right in front of you, grinning from ear to ear, eyes bright and sparkling with boundless energy.

In a way, that unpredictability was precisely what made her so captivating. She never followed the rhythm he tried to settle into; instead, she disrupted it entirely, shaking things up without apology. Yet somehow, she always did so in the most entertaining, amusing ways one could imagine. She attracted trouble—and in a way, it made him adore her more.

“Either way,” Solidad chimed again, from the other end of the line, her voice practically sparkling with enthusiasm, “You’ll figure it out. Good luck out there, kid, see you!”

Drew fumbled. “Solidad? Hey! Elaborate on that—”

The line went silent.

Drew practically shoved the phone back into his lap, groaning whilst Roserade stood by him, still curiously looking up at him. “She’s way too smug. It’s as if…like, as if she knows the future and is one hundred percent certain I’m gonna make a flawless confession,” he sighed, Roserade in response tilting her head, trilling out thoughtfully.

Loosening his shoulders once more, Drew pushed himself off of the bench. “Well, Solidad’s always predicting things and calling it “fate”—and that fate hates me. So I guess there’s no use going against it; let’s get back to the mall. Besides, I still haven’t picked up those necessities at the Pokémon Center,” he muttered with a short stretch, before turning to the pathway back to the mall again, as Roserade happily chirped by his feet, clearly not opposed to the idea.

“Don’t get too excited,” Drew warned. “If you leave me hanging while I’m being strangled by fangirls again I’ll make sure you’ll think twice next time.”

Roserade just batted an eye.

Drew really discovered the rush of Valentines as he got closer to the centre to the mall, the shops and halls flooding with Pokémon, children, young teens and adults alike—he had to carefully make sure he was stepping, because only a single blink and he’d be tripping over a clueless Oddish scattering by his feet.

With a relatively fast pace he tried to squeeze his way through the crowds, his only goal to make it safe and alive to the Pokémon Center alive and unscathed—well, that was the plan, until a cheery saleswoman hopped over to him, plates with chocolates and sweets shoved into his face.

“Wow, aren’t you the Drew Hayden?” The woman gushed, her brown and pink apron swishing as she moved toward him. “I didn’t see the day we’d have such a celebrity as you visiting our little shop here,” she chimed, before boldly leaning into him, “you’re even cuter up close.”

“Euh…Thanks,” Drew replied flatly, edging sideways to leave, the unease in his stomach bottling up faster than he’d experienced with any fangirl he’d met in the past.

The woman spun once happily, her the skirt of her apron flowing along, her brown, curled her bouncing down her bare shoulders. “Either way, free chocolate samples for Valentines! Want a taste?” she mused rather flirtily, pulling the tray with the sweets even higher, efficiently blocking the one and only exit he had from squirming himself out of the situation. “All for free! No strings attached…unless you’d like there to be?” her eyes playfully rolling up at him.

He forced an exhale past his throat, his neck practically heating. “I’m not interested,” he declined, giving the woman a judgemental, uneasy side-eye, trying to make clear he wasn’t so engaged in getting free Chocolate samples, and especially not her flirting. “I’m not looking for chocolates—I’m just passing through.”

The woman stiffened slightly, the tray in her hands long gone heavy. “Hm. Fair. Another question, though—you got a Valentine?”

If he had the room to Drew would’ve let out the most earth-shattering, pained sigh anyone would’ve exclaimed in the world—but the woman was practically breathing down his neck, sending the shivers crawl up his spine—and Roserade coolly standing by his feet, completely unfazed, didn’t help a bit. “Uh, well.. I’m not really—”

“Okay, so maybe not really,” the woman recovered, bouncing cheerfully again with the trays in her hands as if she hadn’t spent the entire minute making moves on him. “But please just let me spoil you anyway—take these chocolates, will you? Or else it’d certainly be a waste,” she chimed, forcing the plate with chocolates, sweets and bonbons further into his face.

Drew wanted to turn, escape, squeeze himself through the crowd—but the piercing look of the saleswoman and the nonchalant behavior of Roserade beside him made the energy drain from his body—and so he could only let out a resigned sigh, grabbing one of the sweets from the plate with his slightly trembling hand before stuffing it into his mouth.

The woman’s smile widened—sly, but satisfied. “See? Not so terrible, is it?”

“You’ll let me go now?” Drew mustered painedly.

The woman smiled darkly. “Mmm.. Almost.”

“How the hell did I end up with these?” Drew groaned aloud, a plastic bag with chocolates dangling in his hands, rustling slightly. “How did I give in to someone desperately trying to flirt with me while trying to sell me chocolates!?”

Roserade smiled smugly from beside him, poking at the bag with a hand.

“You could’ve done anything to help me out there, you know,” he scoffed irritatedly, side-eyeing Roserade with a sharpness in his eyes that would be sharper than the pincers of a Pinsir, even though the Bouquet Pokémon seemed rather unbothered. “I’m starting to think you’re much rather of a bully than my own partner…” 

Roserade shrugged, clearly unbothered. “Roo,” it chirped out, continuing to walk forward with the sass she’d possessed ever since she was a little Roselia.

Drew let his hand tighten around the bag, his anger bristling like a steaming pot ready to explode. “Ever so helpful,” he complained, his eyes rolling downward to the bag, examining the chocolates that were slightly bouncing against the plastic as they moved. “What do I even—what do I even do with these?” Drew asked—to no one in particular—as he kept on walking, mind racing. “I’m not the one who gives out gifts, I’m the one who receives them!”

The chaos around them continued—Pokémon with their trainers, Salesmen and women handing out chocolate samples, while the rest of the trainers around were together, sipping from some hot chocolate or some even straight up being lovey-dovey in everyone’s faces. It made Drew wanna crawl into a hole and cringe; not because he was a little hopeless in love himself, because he found it rather awkward—he surely seemed to be the only one though, as Roserade peeped happily, clearly enjoying the atmosphere. “At least you’re enjoying this,” he pouted.

He finally felt like he had room to breathe as the Pokémon Center came into view, although even the plaza surrounding it flooded with people. He’d be safe soon—he just had to pick up some necessities at the Pokémart and scram. That’s all he had left to do.

That was the plan, until when the sliding doors glided open—brushing against the fuzzy doormat of the Center—and the cold February air snuck into the building, the welcoming bells chiming along, announcing his arrival. The Pokémon Center was filled to the brim with girls his age, chatting happily to Nurse Joy by the counter—until he came in, and all heads simultaneously turned; every single eye on him.

“Wait…is that Drew?”
“It’s him! This is our chance!”
“Gosh, he’s so cute!”

Before he had a moment to breathe the horde of girls stormed at him. Notebooks were shoved into his face, some girls were practically breathing down his neck, and even some made a bold attempt to try and hug him. “Uh—personal space,” Drew squeaked, squirming in the grasp of the girls as even Roserade cautiously stepped by his feet, also nearly getting trampled over, her bouquet-like hands shaking in a desperate attempt to slightly push the girls away from them.

“Oh my gosh, Drew, do you have a Valentine?” One of the girls chirped cheerfully, shoving a packaged chocolate into his chest, ignoring the way Drew instinctively edged away, his eyelids tightening in sheer unease. “N–No, I’m not interested,” he managed, holding onto Roserade’s hand like a lifeline. “I’m only here to buy potions…!”

But that wasn’t enough, though, as the girls only started chatting and squealing louder, compliments about him and his Pokémon filling the room with the speed of light. “What a coincidence that we get to see the real Drew Hayden, on Valentines of all days!” A black-haired girl squeaked, ramaging in her bag in the hopes of finding a notebook—or anything, really—to get his autograph on. “I just need a souvenir of this amazing day, meeting Drew Hayden!”

But then, the crowd shifted again—but not with a squeal this time, but a rather gentle tone.

“Um—sorry—excuse me, coming through—!”

A familiar brunette squeezed herself through the mass of girls, nearly tripping over a stray Camera and notebook that had been scattered onto the ground before she managed to catch herself; that was when she noticed Drew. His hair was half askew by the pressing of the gifts against him, his jacket chaotically folded and his green eyes wide with pure distress and unease, Roserade squirming by his feet.

“...Wait…Drew?” The girl mused.

Without a single thought her hand reached for his, curling her fingers around his—and the contact was immediately grounding, making Drew freeze instantly as the reality of it all came snapping back toward him. 

With a quick, sharp motion he turned over to find it was May who had grabbed his hand, her gloved fingers laced around his. Warmth immediately crept up his stomach, his heart beating faster than it had before. “May,” Drew breathed, as if the name alone made him feel like he’d been saved. Never ever did I consider May showing up today would be something I needed.

“I’ve got you,” she said softly, and reassuringly, her hand curling around his hand just a little tighter—before she coughed to raise her voice, poised to the crowd. “Hi! Sorry, everyone, but he’s actually with me,” the brunette announced happily, tugging Drew slightly toward her for their arms to brush in contact. “So please give the poor guy some space!”

A heavy pause fell over the crowd. Silence—a silence louder than the collective squealing of all the girls together. All the girls blinked, almost in sync, as only the light, quick footsteps of Chansey echoed through the building, cutting the silence like a knife.

May stepped closer to Drew until the space between them disappeared, close enough that her shoulder brushed against his chest. Without hesitation, she lifted her free arm and held it protectively in front of him, her posture steady, as if daring anything in their path to try to get past her. “He’s been very busy,” she added, tugging gently at his sleeve, “...And he’s kind of overwhelmed. So we’re gonna leave, okay?”

The girls remained quiet, though one of the braver ones slowly nodded, retreating from Drew like coming any closer would be a crime.

Drew swallowed—not because of the embarrassment he’d endured in front of the crowd, but the mere instance of how close May was to him. He nodded almost automatically, his gaze locked on to her sharper than a lock-on attack—he almost missed how there had been slight rose-pink lipgloss applied on her lips.

May leaned in, her lips barely brushing against his ear. “Walk with me,” she whispered, “Don’t let go.”

He nodded slowly, trying to fight off the shivers that were running down his spine, and trying to soften the alarming pace his heart was beating. He couldn’t let go, even if he tried.

Together they moved through the crowd, May gently guiding him along with a soft, reassuring squeeze on their joined hands as she mustered some apologies here and there as she pushed through the crowd, Drew’s hand slightly shaking in hers. Almost every step he made took him closer to her—at one point he felt he was so closed he was almost enamoured in her soft breathing, and the strawberry scented cologne sprayed by her neck filled his nostrils—and the way often she looked back behind her shoulder, as if to check he was still there.

Once they’d made it to a secluded spot behind the center, where the chatting n murmurs had been softened into a distant lull, Drew at last was able to let out a genuine sigh, his warm breath evaporating into the cold air.

May stopped in her tracks—but Drew didn’t. He took one more step before realizing she wasn’t pulling him anymore, nearly bumping into her. Great start to keep up your fragile ego, Drew, He told himself instantly, already imagining Solidad’s smug grin. When May turned to him however she emitted a gentle, heart-warming laugh, giving her thumb a comforting brush against his palm, sending his heartbeat to his throat again.

Drew cleared his throat, cheeks pink. “You didn’t have to do that,” he grumbled.

“Someone had to,” May responded, her grin spreading wide as she leaned back on her heels, clearly pleased—she tipped her head, eyes sparkling as she looked back at him. “You looked like you were about to combust right there,” she giggled, hitching a thumb in his direction before giving an exaggerated little shiver, as if mimicking the tension. Then her voice slowed, softer but not a bit less certain, after she shrugged one shoulder in a casual, almost daring way. “Besides…” she whispered, before pausing briefly, looking up at him with soft eyes as if to let everything land, “I wanted to.”

At that he almost forgot how to breathe.

After a moment May reluctantly loosened her hand from his, her eyes shyly flickering toward him and back to the ground—slowly, as if she didn’t want to let go either. Drew stared at the empty space for a second before dragging his eyes back up to her face, his cheeks burning from embarrassment.


“You told them I was with you,” Drew huffed, lightly kicking a loose pebble with his feet, avoiding May and Roserade’s piercing gaze with every remaining bit of energy and ego he had left. He could almost feel the heartbeat in his throat—she’d been close, too close, and it was making the walls he’d carefully built crumble away like it was nothing but a measly breath of wind. He was embarrassed—even if he’d never dare to admit it.

May’s grin spread even wider, her pure white teeth sparkling just as bright as her eyes. “Well,” she chirped—her skirt slightly dancing in the breeze—before she raised her head to properly look at him, “You are now.”

Then, the moment stilled again.

He didn’t mean to keep staring—but once he did, he wasn’t able to stop. Up close he noticed things in her that he realized he’d never noticed before; the way her eyes crinkled ever so slightly when she grinned, like she was on the verge of laughing out loud—the faint pink dusted on her cheeks showing that she knew he was staring. Even the way her lips parted, just a little, as though she wanted to say something, but the words died on her lips.

He would’ve instinctively moved forward to see her closer, but his feet had him rooted to the ground like a leech. Drew wanted to speak, too—break the silence, say anything to keep himself from being too open, but the honesty and spark in her eyes made him go silent, empty.

May felt the shift too, even if she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. His gaze had changed—no longer startled or guarded—it was focused, and gentle. It made her heart flutter in a way she hadn’t known. Her smile softened on instinct, her shoulders relaxing as she tilted her head slightly, watching him through her lashes. She liked how earnest he looked when he wasn’t overthinking, how gentle his eyes were when he let himself be still.

“Roo!” Roserade chirped, suddenly, cutting through the silence harder than either of them had expected that moment.

May let out a startled, embarrassed laugh as she retreated her hands to her back, tugging slightly at the hem of her skirt—meanwhile Drew needed a moment to recover, eyeing Roserade with the sharpest gaze he’d ever managed. “R—right,” Drew coughed, praying to Arceus his beating heart would slow down a little, “Thanks…for that.”

The red-clad brunette shyly pulled her hand up to her ear—gently flicking a stray strand of hair from her face—as she smiled stupidly, her toothy grin wide and forgiving. “I’m always happy to help,” she added a little shakily. “You okay?”


“Yeah,” Drew said, a grin finally tugging its way across his face—for the first time that day—as he lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck again. The gesture was rather awkward, and his nails bit a little deeper into his skin than he’d intended, grounding him just enough to keep himself standing. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so grateful for the kind of chaos you bring along,” he admitted, voice deliberately cool despite the way his knees still felt unsteady beneath him and his heart thudded far too loud in his chest. He exhaled through his nose, half-amused, half-mortified, silently cursing himself for how easily she’d managed to shake him—without even trying.

“See?” May grinned happily. “I don’t always attract trouble.”

Drew scoffed. “Not always,” he protested, “But you certainly do often.”

In response May scoffed, and took a dramatic half-turn to the left, her skirt flowing along before she pressed her hand on her waist. It seemed like she was gonna exclaim a stiff, flat response—but instead she paused mid turn, her eyes widening as she got a proper look at him. “Geez, Drew,” She pouted, looking at him with a surprised glint in her eyes, "You're drenched in gifts…how can you even hold all of that?”

Through the chaos and intensity he hadn’t even noticed the bag with previously only chocolates had filled to the brim with envelopes, and more sweets and letters—that must’ve fallen into the bag when he almost got trampled—and even some heart shaped stickers had stuck onto his jacket, making him almost look like a three year old that had gotten too caught up in crafting a card. “Barely,” he sighed. “I didn’t even mean to get caught up in all of this. I just wanted to stack up on potions.”

May let out a lighthearted laugh, shielding her contagious smile with her hand. “You really are that popular, aren’t you? You’ve surely got a dedicated base of fangirls—they’d fight a war for you even if you didn’t ask for it.”

Her voice wavered—almost, only that he could notice—but she kept smiling.

Drew sighed, digging his free hand into his hair. “They would, no hesitation. On the way to the Pokémon Center I already had a woman flirting with me and trying to ask me out while trying to sell me chocolates out of all things! I mean…” he groaned, the memories of the incident haunting him more than he’d like to admit, “...That girl immediately noticed me. Next time I need to wear a disguise or something!”

May hummed softly in response, nodding as if it were amusing rather than unsettling. “Sounds…exhausting,” she murmured, her tone light, though it didn’t quite carry the same warmth as before. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes briefly dropping to the ground before flickering up to him. “Guess that’s the downside of being so… noticeable, huh?”

She smiled again, smaller this time, carefully measured. “Still,” she added after a pause, “I’m sure you’re used to it by now.”

Drew slowly nodded, examining the emotion in her eyes. There was something off—what, he couldn’t tell—but she’d gone a little quiet, less expressive, and her smile had slightly curled downward; even he could tell something was wrong. “Yeah, I suppose,” he replied stiffly, his heart aching with worry he’d said something wrong. “But that still doesn’t really make the experience any more pleasant—I mean, I look like I got trampled over by a horde of little girls obsessed with make-up and girly things.”
May gave a small shrug. “That’s the way when you’re very popular, I suppose,” she murmured. Her voice softened even further, fading into something almost shy, her breath barely carrying the words. “You’ve grown into someone really handsome, too…who wouldn’t be attracted to you…?”

Her words had been lost in the collective distant murmurs of the plaza.

Drew couldn’t tell what she said—but he definitely noticed she wasn’t feeling it. She was silently prodding at the ground with her shoe, her eyes casted downward. His heart ached for her, and almost instinctively he felt himself reach for the chocolates he bought in his bag—while May was spaced—before outstretching it toward her with an indignant turn of his flushing head. “Here,” he murmured, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

The brunette looked up suddenly—almost startled—before her eyes widened, as if she wasn’t sure what she was seeing. “What?” She murmured in surprise, slowly and hesitantly reaching for his hand, “Is that for me…?”

The sudden genuinity, surprise and warmth in her eyes made his stomach sink lower and lower, and he practically had to clench the gift tighter in his hand as he half-looked her way. “Uh…” he spluttered dumbly, “I mean…y-yeah,” he continued, before he fought up a grin, realizing he’d been getting too vulnerable. “I thought it’d be nice for you to at least have something. I don’t take it you’ve gotten anything from anyone yet, have you?”

May stiffened again, her eyebrows furrowing tightly. Her eyes were sharp, and judgemental, and if looks could kill, he would’ve been dead and bleeding. With a quick, sassy motion she crossed her arms, her lips curled downward in boredom. “Well, not everyone’s so popular and well-known as you, mister,” she spat back, retreating her hand from him like coming any closer would put her on fire. “However, I did get a letter…”

Drew froze almost instantly. That moment he practically felt how his soul lost his body, his limbs suddenly feeling as cold as a Gengar. It was only a joke, he hadn’t really considered that May would’ve gotten any Valentine's cards or letters at all—but now that he thought about it, he suddenly felt more self-conscious than before.

The girl, just like him, had gone through changes, and grew up—she’d come to become more ladylike, while always keeping the charm and cheer that made her so interesting since the very start; happy, optimistic, and a little chaotic when she had the chance. She wasn’t as popular as he was, of course—no fans of hers could be as insane as his was—but she was out there in the wild world, just like him, for anyone to see. It made his stomach feel like a bottomless pit—imagining that someone else other than him, would be interested in her that way.

“Really?” He exclaimed with all the energy he could muster.

May deadpanned, her expression tight and irritated. “It was an incredibly sweet letter, and I was really honoured, until I found out that Max sent that card to mess with me and make fun of me—I mean, really, I know I’m not popular and well known, but he out of all people doesn’t need to rub that into my face!”
Drew stared at her for a beat, breathing in.

That moment he wanted to forget how much his mind had started racing.

“Ah,” He exclaimed hesitantly, retrieving his hand back to his sides. “That’s a pretty nasty prank, even for Max,” he murmured, his eyes rolling back to May’s direction as he tried to fight off the sudden heat that rose in his cheeks. “I wonder how you keep up with him.”

Was he that concerned about May possibly getting hit on by someone else? That he’d feel more empty than he’d ever had? That his heart would ache at the mere thought of someone else being interested in May? If he said he wasn’t embarrassed, he’d be lying. But most of all—he felt concerned. He knew well that he was in love with her, but he’d never truly thought about how deep his feelings for her went.

“I don’t like headbutting myself into other people's business, Drew, but if you don’t make a move now May’s gonna find someone else she fancies.”

So that’s what Solidad meant. He understood it now.

“I don’t know either,” May pouted, angrily tapping the heel of her foot against the ground. “He’s so infuriating sometimes! But despite that, he’s…still my brother. Although he can be pretty annoying in times like these, he’s there when it really counts,” she hummed, her expression suddenly shifting into something more gentle, as if the thought of Max made her feel happy deep inside, even if he was an interesting character sometimes.

“Reminds me of someone else I know,” Drew grinned—sending May a knowing look—before he gave an arrogant flick of his front bangs. “She’s pretty nonsensical and chaotic, but when it comes to important moments she always seems to focus and pull it off…”

May looked thoughtful for a moment before her face went sour, teeth gritted. “And you act always so high and mighty, but when needed you’re a real big softie yourself,” she protested hotly, jabbing a finger at him with the brightest fire in her eyes he’d ever seen.

“Guess you’re rubbing off on me,” Drew retorted, the words coming out gentle, even if he’d meant to sound rather playful and sarcastic.

“Here—thank you for your purchase!” The local Pokémart employee exclaimed happily, outstretching the bag with potions, revives, and a few Pokéballs. “We hope to see you back soon someday!”

With a huff Drew accepted the bag, the paper material crackling. He muttered a thank you with a small bow, while Roserade remained by his feet before making his way outside the Pokémart, eyes heavy. “Thank Arceus that the huge mass of people have gone by now,” he choked out, wiping at his eyelids, “I thought I was going to combust—and all of this hassle just for potions!”

Roserade gave a casual, almost careless shrug, the folds of her grassy cape bristling faintly as they stepped into the inner plaza. “Rose,” it chirped in a cool, unbothered tone, as though the overwhelming press of people around them barely came as an inconvenience. With a small, amused gesture, she pointed toward the bag of necessities, a content smile perched on her face.

“Yeah, we got the stuff at last,” he groaned. “Now it’s time to scram.”

Valentines was way too much of a hassle for him—he was already rather exhausted by all the floods of fangirls and reporters that were on his tail, and not to speak about the chaos that May brought by bringing him around the Mauville mall for at least an hour. After a while, though, May finally snapped her fingers and stormed off to a distant store, saying she’d “found something cool”, and that she would “see him later”.

Now he’d taken his final detour to the Pokémart to get the potions and necessities he needed at last, and he was planning to head back to his apartment of residence as soon as possible. He was done with all the lovey-dovey, mushy, cheesy stuff. He had training to do, ribbons to win—he didn’t have time to think about his mandatory confession he’d have to present to May at one point.

But despite that his heart ached, and he almost instinctively felt himself pause as he passed the Pokémon center, a huge cardboard sign displaying “NURSE JOY’S OFFICIAL VALENTINE CARD CRAFTING BOOTH”, and he eyed the cutout with wide eyes—Roserade standing beside him with a knowing look in her eyes, grinning smugly. “Roo,” it chirped flirtily, poking his leg with her hand.

“What—No. Roserade, no. I am not making a Valentines card, let alone in a Pokémon center with everyone to see,” He hissed back, pointing offendedly at Roserade with a finger, the heat rushing to his face like a Camerupt about to explode. “We need to train,” Drew excused, taking in an exaggerated breath to turn around and leave.

Roserade already started pushing and nudging him toward the center.

“No, no—Roserade, stop pushing me!” Drew protested, looking over his shoulder to see Roserade pressing her hands against him to move him forward, her face scrunched up in annoyance. She murmured something back grudgingly in return, not giving in to a single protest. “I’m not—I’m not going to do this, Roserade!”

The rose Bouquet Pokémon, however, didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the situation. She continued pushing and prodding Drew forward with hard-headed persistence, guiding him all the way to the Pokémon Center’s entrance. The automatic doors slid open at a deliberate pace, almost theatrically, as if they were preparing to announce or celebrate his arrival. Then, at that exact moment, when it felt like things couldn’t possibly become worse, a Chansey suddenly charged toward him at full speed. It skidded to a stop and immediately launched into an animated conversation with Roserade, who responded by sharply pointing in Drew’s direction, her eyes tightly narrowed with unmistakable intensity.

“Roserade…” he muttered sternly in response, not completely liking where the situation was going.

Before he could breathe or move Chansey shot behind his back before aiding Roserade pushing him with all the strength it had—which, to him, was a lot of strength, seeing as he almost neared the counter of Nurse Joy at a rapid speed. “Uh—Roserade—!” he choked out as the two Pokémon pushed him to the lobby, “even you, Chansey?! Ugh, come on, I didn’t sign up for this!”

Roserade however chirped out contently, and Chansey only seemed to mutter a complaint about his stubbornness, pushing him onward without a single ounce of hesitation. He practically felt himself sink into the floor as they neared the lobby, covered in posters, cards and flowers—even to his embarrassment there were some kids sitting down at the crafting table before they looked up at him with wide, curious, judgemental eyes, watching his every move. “The stares,” he muttered darkly, “This is horrid. Being humiliated—in front of little children!”

Before he knew it he was seated on one of the poorly sewn pink blankets, embroidered with various Pokémon like Chansey, Jigglypuff, and Clefairy, beside a wooden table that had been completely glued and painted over—and that barely reached his hips. He eyed Roserade with the sharpest glare he could muster—wanting to remind her he was gonna back at her for it—just for the Pokémon to continue grinning smugly at him, her eyebrows lowered as though she was taunting him. He would’ve cursed—but he wasn’t a bad influence.

So he kept his trap shut.

The card went from completely blank to first slightly decorated with a few pink stickers Roserade had forced him to put them on—before she prodded him to add more and more—until the card looked completely screwed over; like a Valentines card a four year old would make. “This looks awful,” Drew groaned, looking down at the card with the widest, not-sane eyes as if he was looking at the biggest disgrace Arceus had ever dared to bring upon the planet. “I’m not giving this to May. She’ll insult the shit out of me,” He mustered, his voice shifting to a whisper so the toddler beside him wouldn’t hear.

Chansey happily chirped behind Roserade, and the Bouquet Pokémon suddenly shot right up, her eyes wide and gleaming as if she had an amazing idea. Without hesitation Roserade trudged toward the most pink bucket of paint there was, dipped her bouquet-like hands into the liquid and turned around sharply—before storming back toward him and smacking the paint stained onto the card, only leaving a hand-print of her behind. She struck a confident and happy pose afterward, her grin too mocking.

“Was that really necessary, Roserade?” Drew commented, watching as Roserade innocently turned to talk to Chansey again who was running around the halls with a hospital cart.

“Happy valentines,


The letters were there before he could even stop to move, or even blink, and the humiliation and embarrassment in his stomach seeped in harder than boiling water. He instinctively twirled the pen in between his fingers, trying to process what childish activity he’d been forced into.

May—Valentine’s Day—chocolates and love notes. The familiar thought, “Will you be my Valentine?” rushed through his mind, yet his hand froze around the pen. He couldn’t bring himself to write the words. He had never been the kind of person who could be so open, so direct, so boldly vulnerable. That sort of confidence belonged to her, not to him—not in a million years.

“Happy valentines,

Drew & Roserade.”

He finished before dropping the pen on the paper with an excessive sigh. He considered drawing a heart for a moment, until he realized that would be too bold for his doing. He would mean it if he did, he really would, but it didn’t feel right. He had to make small steps—just like Solidad had said. Maybe a whole confession wasn’t necessary; just a token of his appreciation for her, and to show that he cared—that she meant something to him. “...No idea if I even have the balls to give her this in the first place,” he muttered. “This thing looks like it’s made by a five year old—if May saw this she’ll think I’m anything but romantic.”

Roserade moved to stand by his side again and gave him a playful but proud push on the shoulder, grinning happily. At least she was getting some joy out of it—but he wasn’t done with her. Oh, not yet.

“Well,” Drew sighed, lifting himself off of the pillow, his gaze shifting to the exit, “I think it’s about time we leave. The card is done—and I don’t have much else to seek here.” And I don’t wanna be around these kids for another second, he would’ve added, if the gaze of the toddler that was sitting beside him earlier wasn’t piercing through his back like a nail. With a cool flick of his hair—a last attempt to save his dignity—he turned to the sliding doors, Roserade by his feet. He had things to do, after all.

Drew slipped out of the Pokémon center just as the automatic doors whispered shut behind him. The chatter of the children and the beeping of the monitors faded away into a more collective murmur of the rest of the people that were still in the Mauville mall. He adjusted the collar of his coat merely out of habit, taking a moment to breathe in the air, Roserade still beside him.

“What a situation that was,” he sighed, the card he’d made for her in his pocket suddenly feeling ten times more heavy.

Roserade cooed out happily beside him, but he didn’t feel as joyful as she did. He wanted to look at her with anger in his eyes, tell her she shouldn’t have put him into such situations, but the exhaustion in his eyelids and the lack of determination in his bones made him fall into the same old rhythm—sigh, brush it off, and move on. It wasn’t ideal if he wanted to have Roserade learn a lesson, but right that moment he didn’t want any more protesting; he’d done enough of that for a lifetime.

“I wonder what May’s up to right now,” Drew muttered underneath his breath, his tired gaze rolling over the concrete floors. She’d bid him a quick and lazy goodbye before she stormed off into a store—at first, he didn’t really think much of it. He knew May was hotheaded, and never stopped moving, even if her moving sometimes included participating in shopping sprees and tourism. But now, with his Valentine Card meant for her weighing heavy in his pockets, he felt more concerned than he was before. “...She’s probably stuffing herself with those free sample chocolates.”

Then, as if Arceus had answered his question, a distant but clear figure faded into the foreground. Red bandana, red top, a white skirt and black biker shorts—May. No hesitation needed.

“Talk about a coincidence,” he muttered quietly, trying to fight off the warmth that suddenly crept up at the sight and thought of her. He could turn around and pretend she wasn’t there—that’s what his “fragile ego” would do, anyway—but May felt like a magnet. Instinctively he felt himself moving forward, toward her, Roserade cleanly following his footsteps, eyes curious. “...It doesn’t hurt to say hi,” He excused as Roserade started grinning at him.

The closer he came, the clearer the sight became; May had stepped astray on the sidewalk, hands propped behind her back and Glaceon by her feet. A guy was standing in front of her, leaning slightly toward her with a phone in hand, expression smug and poise confident—and if you asked Drew? Rather bold and flirtily, too. Almost instantly he felt himself slow in his tracks, and Roserade almost walked past him—before turning to look behind her shoulder, puzzled at why he’d suddenly paused.

He wanted to speak, let alone breathe, but the mere sight of the guy leaning onto a lamp-post and grinning smugly toward her as he talked made his heart ache. Not in sadness, or worry, or fear; he hated it, he didn’t wanna admit it, and he wouldn’t out loud—but he was jealous. Jealous as could be—green with envy. His arms trembled slightly as his mind raced, trying to make up whether he’d leave or butt in—but the only tug he found was toward her, and the guy.

With hesitant steps and a worried Roserade looking back at him the trudged toward the two, his fists almost naturally clenched. The nearer he came, the more nauseous he started to feel. This feeling for her went deep, if he felt that concerned at the mere sight of someone flirting with May.

The boy stood far too close to her, leaning in toward her with a kind of boldness that almost felt intrusive. He gestured here and there as he spoke, clearly high up in his pride to see him come, or even May’s reaction for that matter. May shifted from one foot to another, her gaze nervously drifting away from the guy as she once in a while seemed to mutter some response. Her smile was polite, he saw, but it was strained. Even from a while away he could see—that wasn’t her genuine smile. It was her half-hearted smile that she meant to keep up just to satisfy. The one she used when she didn’t want to be disrespectful.
With his footsteps feeling as light as a feather and as silent as one of a ghost he sauntered over to May, his heartstrings tugging every step he got closer.

“Hey,” he said casually, towering over May’s shoulder as he shot her a small, knowing smile, trying to push down the burning jealousy that brewed in his chest. “I already thought I could find you here,” Drew hummed, pushing himself to sound as collected as he could, “I got concerned…I thought maybe you fainted because of too much shopping.”

May blinked, surprised, before her posture and expression shifted into something more relaxed—the sharpness in her shoulders simultaneously softened, and her lips slightly curled upward like she was relieved. “Drew?” She muttered aloud, the guy standing by his feet turning toward him too, “I didn’t expect for you to be still hanging around here.”

Drew let out a low chuckle, acutely aware of the stranger’s stare drilling into him. With a casual flick, he brushed a strand of hair from his eyes, a faint smirk curving his lips.

“I wasn’t planning on sticking around,” he said lightly, “but Roserade here seemed to have other ideas.” He shot Roserade a dry look in response, but Roserade instead grinned back before pointing at his pockets, and he let out an exaggerated groan.

That was when the boy who had been standing too close to May finally spoke again.

“And who are you supposed to be?”

His tone was sharp, guarded. The look in his eyes carried something fierce—almost judgmental—and for a fleeting moment, Drew felt the urge to snap back. He swallowed it down instead, keeping the irritation unheard behind his teeth.

The boy looked to be around his age, perhaps a little older. His dark hair was neatly combed, bright blue eyes striking enough to hold attention, and the way he held himself radiated confidence—shoulders squared, posture firm, as though he had no intention of stepping aside for anyone. “....Because I don’t think I recognize you.”

Drew’s eyes met that of the guy for a fleeting moment. His gaze was deep and threatening, but he knew better than to shy away—he’d dealt with Harley before, and he’d certainly do it over and over again no matter who it was if it meant keeping May safe and sound—so instead he took the ignorance route and tauntingly let his gaze shift to May, as though he hadn’t found any need to answer his question. “You didn’t mention you had company,” he stated matter-of-factly, as polite and not-jealous as he was able to.

May picked up instantly, slightly stiffening. “Oh! Right—yeah. This is Matthew. He’s a contest fan, so.. he came up to ask some things about.. contests,” she said quickly—noticing the opening—although her words wavered, her arms automatically folding behind her back. She shifted closer to Drew without even thinking, her eyelids slowly sinking as she tossed the guy another look.

She wasn’t comfortable. He could see it.

Matthew shifted, suddenly positioned more sharply, his muscles tensed and eyebrows sharper and stronger than before—the concrete tiles crunched slightly as he took an offended move forward, his steps loud. “Hey, but I wasn’t done talking,” the boy shot back, eyeing Drew with a sort of inner frustration. “You know it’s rude to interrupt a conversation!”

The more the guy spoke the more Drew felt the irritation boil up his blood—but he couldn’t burst. Not in front of May. He’d keep his cool, be the better guy and solve the situation at hand all at once. He took a brief breath before turning toward him, his stern gaze not wavering a bit. “It sure sounded like you were finished,” he retorted calmly, digging his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Matthew scoffed. “You got a problem or something?” He bit back.

“Not at all,” Drew replied evenly, not letting his gaze shift from him. “But you seem to be getting too close to her for comfort—I figured you’d be too up in your own ego to notice,” he added smoothly, his own scowl slowly shifting into more of a taunting smirk.

Matthew’s jaw tightened almost of its own accord. Simultaneously he felt the heat crawl up the back of his neck—a strong, insistent burn of irritation and offense—before he squared his shoulders again, his fists clenched beside his sides. Drew could see he was on the verge of snapping; he intended to make the guy storm off in humiliation, but instead he retaliated. His gaze temporarily shifted over to May, who’d been squeezing the hem of her skirt, her eyes unsure.

“Oh, yeah?” He exclaimed, teeth clenched, and his voice low and dangerous. It seemed like he forced out the words through the tension in his throat, but even then his voice seemed strained, and less intense as his body language was, as if he was trying to keep himself from getting too bold.

Drew didn’t flinch. “Don’t get so worked up, Matthew. You’re the one acting incredibly defensive.”

“Defensive?!” Matthew shot back, his cheeks reddening like he was on the verge of exploding.

Matthew’s words were loud and looming, but the only concern he felt was for May. Drew’s eyes shifted over to May again who was soaking up the entire conversation, her eyelids tightened and her eyebrows furrowed, in the way a shy and scared kid was trying not to flee from a nerving situation—he took in another exhale before turning his head back to the boy. “Seeing how heated you’re reacting, I think so,” he hummed flatly. He turned around to give May a reassuring arm on her back, his eyes cold. “But that’s not relevant right now. We’re leaving—you can burst somewhere else when we aren’t around."

Drew nodded softly toward May, as though reassuring and encouraging her to leave, his hand still gently placed against her back. May shifted—her eyes were softer, less clouded, and her body was more relaxed all over—before she shot a nod back. “Well, see you,” the brunette claimed as politely as she could, slowly tugging Drew’s hand, before they made a turn to leave.

Matthew’s distant scoffs and growls disappeared into the distance as they moved back to the plaza, May’s gentle pull guiding Drew along.

The atmosphere grew quiet—it was getting late. The halls had started to darken, and the mass of people had reduced into a quiet but comforting select group of people who were still sharing letters and time, much to Drew’s delight. The soft glowing light from the Pokémon Center illuminated the plaza, reflectingly dimly on the small Lumiose tower statue in the middle. Through the silence only then he realized how busy it’d been before; he could almost still feel the distant chatter of the people rush in his ears.

“T—Thanks about that, Drew,” May murmured shyly, folding her hands together. Her cheeks were red, and it looked like she was trying to suppress a wide smile. The mere sight alone made all the previous jealousy and irritation drain away from his stomach to be replaced with a warm, comforting feeling, his eyelids almost automatically lowering softly at her. “I really wouldn’t have known what to do if you hadn’t come to get me out of it. First I rescue you—and now you rescue me. Pretty funny, isn’t it?”

Drew shook his head. “Don’t thank me,” he hummed calmly, the mild cold air brushing against his hands, which he immediately tucked back into his pockets. “It was only the minimum I could do after you helped me out of that hassle earlier today. Besides, you looked like you were in a pinch. You okay?”

May brightened again and happily bobbed her head into a nod, her arms sneaking to her back. “Yeah, you came at just the right moment! He was getting so close and insistent, but I didn’t really feel right to move away—guess I’m pretty grateful for the chaos you bring, too,” she answered, before she set up a satisfied smirk. “...Even if you make the chaos include getting someone way too angry.”

In response he could only scoff, warmth rushing up his cheeks. “I don’t appreciate it when people overstep someone’s boundaries. I would know.”

May laughed again, her breath visible in the air between them. Her laugh was warm, unrestrained, and bright enough that it almost pulled one out of him too. Almost. He stopped himself just in time—he’d already let himself get too vulnerable today, especially after that humiliating, doomed Valentine’s card attempt. He wasn’t doing that again. “Well.. that was very kind of you, Drew. Thank you.”

Drew gave a light nod, giving the insides of his pockets a squeeze.

Then a low, desperate growl came from May’s stomach. She froze almost instantly, her hand immediately moving to brush her stomach as if that would make it stop growling.  “...Um..”

Drew blinked once before a small laugh escaped him. “Let me guess,” he said, glancing at her with a faint, amused smirk. “You’ve been so busy shopping that you forgot basic survival requirements. Like eating.”

“Uhm…maybe?” she admitted, eyes flicking away as she rubbed the back of her neck.

He shook his head fondly, letting out a rather content sigh. “You’re unbelievable,” he exhaled happily. Then, after a brief pause—after racking his brain to think of what to do—he stepped closer and outstretched his hand toward the Brunette, his hand nearly trembling in nervousness despite the way he told himself to act normal. “Come on,” he said shortly. “Let’s get something to eat.”

May stared at his hand for a moment, like she wasn’t quite sure it was real. Then, carefully, she slipped her fingers into his. Her face lit up instantly—brighter than before, brighter than she probably realized—and she squeezed his hand gently. “Yeah, let’s go.”

“Mmm, that meal was delicious,” May cooed happily, rubbing her stomach with her hand. “I haven’t eaten a good meal like that in a while!”

Drew chuckled from beside her, watching as the brunette happily enjoyed the reminiscent of the dinner—his eye glinting slightly as he observed a speck of sauce was still hanging by her lip. “More like a whole diner,” He commented smoothly, pointing at her mouth with a pointed look. “You ate—how many plates of fries? Like, two? Not to mention the two huge portions of ice cream cake you ate after that?”

May pointed up her finger into the air happily, licking the leftover sauce from the corner of her lip. “Correction, it was three plates,” she hummed without any embarrassment—before she reached for her pocket to grab a free sample of peppermint she got at the restaurant. “And the ice cream cake was just delicious! I couldn’t help it! The chef of that place, geez…it's a master class! I haven’t eaten such heavenly food in a minute!”

The chartreuse haired boy deadpanned. “You’re just proving my point.”

After the escaping Matthew incident Drew offered to take her to dinner—it wasn’t a date, not really, but the voice in his head kept repeating that it was—so halfway during the course his appetite had gone down the drain, the only remains being an awkward amount of fluster. He had to remain a gentleman though, so he opted to be the one to pay; although May wasn’t fond of the idea at first, Drew wasn’t one to give in so easily. Not after all the moments that had occurred beforehand.

May had gobbled up a whole three of plates with fries and steak—and two whole ice cream cakes—down without any trouble, and even afterwards she was looking at the menu-card with wide eyes and drool hanging on the side of her lips. He would never understand how she had such a major stomach; he could barely consume one or two plates before he had enough, let alone a whole course of dessert afterwards, too.

“You don’t understand how important food is,” May shot back, sipping on the peppermint she’d slid in between her lips. “Food gives you strength. And naturally, you need strength to survive.”

Drew shot her a criticizing look, his eyebrows pointed and sharp. “Says the one who forgot to eat a single meal today,” he protested, prodding a finger in her direction. “If food is so important I wouldn’t have had to find a restaurant up to your standards.”

May stiffened—the peppermint she was sucking on nearly slipping from her lips—before she straightened again, pushing her hands against her hips sharply. “Uh—well.. you see, shopping and things like that are also important. Besides, you were the one who insisted on paying. I would’ve paid, but your hard-head couldn’t let that happen to your fragile ego,” she excused, poking his chest with a finger.

“My fragile ego?” He groaned, remembering his talk with Solidad—it was clear he wasn’t the only one May was rubbing off on. Or the other way around—Solidad did have a knack for insulting him or teasing him for his weak points if she had a chance. “It’s not a fragile ego. It’s called being a gentleman,” Drew shot back, lightly swatting May’s finger away with his hand. “Not like you know anything about that since you stuff your mouth with no class at all.”

“It’s living without holding back,” May replied confidently. “You’ve only got one life, after all.”

Drew let out a low chuckle, his heart buzzing as May’s hand brushed against his. “Never expected for you to get philosophical, May,” He hummed, before tilting his head to watch the sun that was going down. “I guess you aren’t as light-headed as you look to be.”

May emitted a low groan as she sped forward into the clearing in the breezy February air.

The atmosphere in the Mauville Mall had made a massive change compared to earlier that day—most shops had started to close, meanwhile restaurants were opening up and had couples and families flooding in, ready to celebrate their Valentines eating at a fancy restaurant. Drew noticed he’d had enough of the crowds, though, so along with May’s agreement they left the mall to relax one last moment outside.

May propped herself on the bench by the clearing—the exact bench he’d sat on at the beginning of the day, when he wasn’t aware he’d bump into May at all—as she childishly kicked her legs, her feet dangling above the frosted grass. She hummed a soft tune; what exact tune she was humming he wouldn’t know, but he nearly felt the heat creep up his neck once he caught himself smiling subtly as he walked over to her.

“This sure was an eventful day, isn’t it?” May sang as Drew came to sit beside her, their legs nearly brushing.

“More eventful than I would’ve liked it to be,” Drew responded, though he couldn’t fight off the subtle smile that had crept up his lips. “And to think I only came here to get some potions and have my Pokémon checked up—the chaos you bring is one of a kind, May.”

May slid her arms beneath her head, leaning on the bench as the bold glow of the under-going son illuminated her face, her eyes nearly sparkling. “And so is yours, you know. First you get yourself trampled over by fangirls, then you get involved in a scammy Valentine-card-creating fiasco because of Roserade, and you almost start a fight with someone.”
Drew hummed. “You’re rubbing off on me.”

The soft chirping of Taillow came from the trees, with occasionally a Yanma darting by the water—observing a group of Surskit who had positioned themselves on the surface of the pond, skating over the bristling water. The water was almost glowing as the sun sank lower and lower into the horizon—even Drew had to squint his eyes a little as the sun lowered into the skyline.

A silence fell over the two, although it wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward in the slightest—it was a nice, comforting silence after the heat and chaos of the day, only leaving the soft chirping of Pokémon to waver through the evening air. He could almost hear May’s breathing, which was mostly drowned out by the rustling of Kricketot far away. He tried not to focus on it too much.

“I guess it is kind of nice, huh?” May asked—not particularly to anyone—as her gaze remained locked at the sky, her sapphire eyes gleaming in the radiant light of the drowning sun.

He would’ve replied, but he suddenly felt his heartstrings tug harder than a single moment earlier that day. He’d been so caught up in Valentines, fangirls, and getting forced into drama he’d rather not get himself into, that he hadn’t had a moment to stop and realize the beauty of the festivity—to notice May’s beauty. May’s brown hair was glowing—it almost looked golden—as her wide smile reflected just how bright and happy the sun was, nearly sending Drew’s heart hammering.

His pocket itched, and with the wind leaving the bag by his feet rustling, he felt the nervousness shoot to the center of his stomach—this was it, wasn’t it?

With a slow exhale he reached into the bag while May was staring up at the evening horizon—barely bothered by the fact Drew didn’t reply—before he tugged for the card in his pocket. With a shy, indignant motion he stretched it toward her, his head pivoted to the other way, so she couldn’t see the bright red blush that had dusted his cheeks.

May moved slowly, as if unsure what to expect. When she saw the gift Drew had outstretched, she almost had to suppress a laugh—but the overwhelming feeling of appreciation and fluster that filled her heart only caused a stupid smile to perch on her lips, her gaze suddenly softer than it had been before when watching the sunset. “...Is this for me?” She asked, hesitantly, as though she was unsure if it was a prank or not.

“Mhm,” Drew hummed reluctantly, not daring to look back at her expression. “A thank you gift for saving me from all those fangirls before, I suppose.”

May emitted a genuine, whole hearted laugh, and only that moment Drew had the bravery to look back at her, only to see she was peering down at the card and chocolates with a gaze that could almost make him melt. He didn’t know what to think, or what to say for that matter—he wasn’t often at a loss for words, but he certainly was now.

“Thank you,” May cooed. “That’s…really nice of you, Drew.”

He nearly froze as May’s free thumb gently brushed over his hand.

“E—er… It’s not a problem,” he coughed into the crook of his neck, the folds of his collar moving slightly. “Don’t take it too seriously, or anything…just a thank you after getting me out of that hassle.”

The brunette shyly opened the card, and she almost laughed again as she spotted Roserade’s paint stamp on the inside, her lips curving into the stupidest smile she’d ever worn. “So this is the monstrosity Roserade forced you to make, huh?” She giggled into the card, her gaze flicking back and forth as she read through the minimal text he’d written.

“Yeah,” Drew sighed—partly relieved May hadn’t made any difficult comments—before he eyed Roserade’s ball perched on his belt. “Roserade thought it was an amazing idea to force me to make a Valentines card in the middle of a group of toddlers,” he admitted, his eyes locking onto the card May was still peering into. “She even pointed a Poison Jab on me when I tried to fight back to leave. I mean—seriously—is it normal that your own Pokémon gangs up on you?”

May giggled. “I don’t think so. My Pokémon love teasing me sometimes, sure, but they never threaten me into doing anything I don’t want to do.”

“That’s surely relieving to hear,” Drew scoffed.

May laughed again. Then, before Drew even had a moment to blink, May’s laughter faded into a softer, gentle smile as she pressed her thumb on the side of the card before flipping it back closed, her eyelashes fluttering slightly as she did so.

“Hey, um…” She whispered, suddenly very interested in the zipper of the satchel around her waist. “I got something to thank you, too.”

She gave a quick nod, as if committing before she could lose her nerve, before she tugged down the zipper and rummaged into her bag. With the zipper whispered, the objects in her satchel clanking, she shyly pulled out a heart-shaped box of chocolates, a little note attached to it—before outstretching it to him, her fingers nearly trembling.

Drew was at a loss for words—again. She thought about getting him something? After the whole drama and chaos of that day? He always thought she was up in the clouds and invested into unnecessary things that would never be grazed upon again, but right there that moment she really proved him wrong; she did think. She was attentive, even when she seemed to be completely lost in her own world.

“Wow, thanks, May,” He breathed, gently reaching for the box of chocolates. “That’s…really nice of you.”

His thumb slightly hovered over the note that was plastered on the box; “Happy Valentines! Love, May” before he slid the paper underneath the box, more embarrassed than he’d be able to admit. “Happy Valentines, May,” he responded, the packaging with chocolates suddenly feeling ten times heavier. “I’ll make sure to enjoy these chocolates. Thank you.”

May brightened up again, and she shyly reached to grasp her purse, her stupid smile not wavering. “Well, I’m glad you like it. I spent a while contemplating on which ones to get—you’re mr. perfect, after all. I can’t hand you a gift you don’t like.”

He liked the gift. He loved it. Way more than he’d ever want to admit.

Drew fought on a scoff before flicking his hair from his eyes. “Like you said, food is important. It’d be a shame to waste it on something with poor taste,” he commented, before his downward curled lips and cold eyes shifted into something more warm and happy the moment he bothered to look back at her—bright, sparkling, and happy underneath the setting glow of the sun.

“Can’t argue against that,” She giggled.

hello, another update! hereby Drew's official design for chapter 3 -- and beyond, too, probably.

Chapter Text

The streets of Slateport were buzzing with enthusiasm from top to bottom—the annual Slateport contest was being organised to be held the following week, and it didn’t go unnoticed; coordinators from all around had been lured to the bright city like Goldeen to a rod. From starting rookies with Poochyena’s, to amateur coordinators he’d seen before with power house pokémon…the upcoming Slateport city contest had it all.

And Drew had seen it all before.

Naturally, he’d felt a soft tug at his heart when he returned to Slateport—it almost became routine. Not only was it the hometown of the one and only Harley he couldn’t stand, it was the place where he’d first encountered May—on the beaches of Slateport, tripping and fumbling with Frisbees and her Beautifly. He wasn’t one to reminisce on nostalgia; if it were him, he’d refuse nostalgia was a thing altogether. But the soft rushing of the waves and chatter from the beaches hit him deeper and differently than he thought he’d feel. Nostalgic, warm, and, dare he say it, relieved.

Relieved that he got to meet May then and there.

His feeling of relief and relaxation wasn’t able to last long though—like usual—as his Rotomphone in his pocket buzzed again, and he almost inwardly cringed.

He didn’t even have to think to guess who was calling him. Solidad lately had been pestering him with more phone calls than he could count, going from often to almost every day. Although at first he enjoyed chatting away with Solidad, her change of reasoning to wanting to call made him wanna burst through the phone to remind her to leave him alone about certain sensitive subjects he didn’t wanna think about. Despite his muscles screaming to ignore it, he instinctively felt himself reach for the phone deeply buried into his pocket.

Drew’s heart instantly sank into pure relief as it was only a text message Solidad has sent, and for a moment he let out an exaggerated sigh of comfort—he didn’t have to deal with her obvious teasing tone and humiliating questions and comments. With a short swipe of his thumb over the screen he opened the message.

“Good afternoon, Drew! You were planning on entering Slateport’s upcoming contest, weren’t you?”

The moment he felt like celebrating, the entire thing went crumbling down. He knew Solidad wasn’t just asking out of curiosity what he was up to—when she phrased a question like that it was extremely, extremely clear she was in for more than just a friendly “good luck” at the contest.

Almost without realizing it, he caught his lower lip between his teeth, worrying it gently as his thoughts spiraled out of control, each one colliding with the next and racing through his mind faster than a Rapidash at full gallop. Mentioning that he was headed for Slateport had been a mistake—an obvious one in hindsight. If he had kept that detail to himself, he wouldn’t now be stuck with the very real possibility of running into Solidad. And if that happened, there was no doubt she would subject him to her usual barrage of teasing remarks and relentless, prying questions, all centered on the same mortifying topic: how far he’d managed to get in confessing his feelings to May. The mere thought made his stomach twist. He couldn’t afford that kind of distraction right now! His attention needed to be on the contest ahead, on perfecting his performance and staying sharp. There simply wasn’t room in his head—or his heart—for Solidad’s playful torment when so much was already at stake.

He couldn’t just lie to her. Solidad was smart enough to fall for something utterly ridiculous and half-assed from his part. But if he remained vague, maybe he’d have a proper chance of staying outside of her view; that was, if he made a good attempt to hide himself from it.

“I was. But don’t plan on bothering me; Masquerain and I are set on winning the contest, and we can’t afford any distractions while we’re training.”

He hadn’t even noticed he’d been impatiently—and nervously, sort of—tapping his foot against the cold tiles until his phone buzzed again, the sudden vibration nearly jolting him out of his deep, thoughtful thinking. The sharp sound seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet around him, making his shoulders tense as he glanced down at the screen. His grip tightened around the phone for a moment before he even realized it, thumb hovering uncertainly as if he were bracing himself for whatever awaited him.

“Of course you’re so set on training. Fine; I’ll let you be. Sharpen up those combinations—I expect you to put up another good show! I’ll be watching from the bleachers!”

If it weren’t for the hard stone tiles keeping him in place and standing, he would’ve sunk as deep into the floor as one would drown in mud. It wasn’t as awful as Solidad actively trying to track him down while he was training, sure, but if she was there in Slateport she’d definitely grab the chance to try and find him after the contest.

He prayed to Arceus she wouldn’t.

Forcing the restless thoughts aside—along with the Rotomphone he shoved back down into his pocket—he paused and drew in a slow, exaggerated breath of the salty air drifting in from Slateport Beach. The scent of the ocean filled his lungs, cooling and relieving, yet it did nothing to calm the uneasy energy buzzing through his legs, as if his body itself were urging him to move. He knew he couldn’t just stand around any longer. If he wanted any chance of staying out of sight—and more importantly, out of Solidad’s view—he needed to actively go somewhere, anywhere, that offered a bit of seclusion.

But his options were limited. He’d already spent time training with Masquerain back on the beach, and the idea of retreating to some random corner behind a building, only to sit there and accomplish nothing, held no appeal at all. He’d wasted enough time like that already. With May occupying his thoughts for months on end, he’d done plenty of hiding. He wasn’t going to repeat that pattern.

As if Arceus, for once leapt down from the heavens to grace him for once—if one could even really call it that—a bright neon-billboard of the Slateport Contest flickered on and shone over the street, light bouncing off the lantern posts.

“The annual Slateport city contest—with a twist! Super contest edition!”

Drew sighed. He was actively avoiding getting to this part; this year’s annual Slateport city contest wasn’t just so popular and hyped because it was a popular city in the coordinating world, but because, this year, they were implementing a new theme—a new addition to the standard contests that always had been held throughout Hoenn; A super contest theme.

It wasn’t his style. He had formed that opinion as soon as word went around that coordinating as an industry was blooming in Sinnoh. The flashy outfits, Pokéball seals—it was all overly dramatic. He didn’t want to pamper and dress himself and his Pokémon up to shine. He wanted to put on a raw performance, with the true beauty of the Pokémon, and its bond with the trainer alone. After all, that was what had interested him in coordinating in the first place; showcasing a Pokémon’s true beauty, without unnecessary additions.

But despite the many reasons that would normally hold Drew back from entering, he didn’t wanna miss it this time. It wasn’t an average contest. It was blooming from beginner Pokémon coordinators to actual veteran, professional trainers. If he was going to prepare as best as he could for the grand festival, he’d have to put his best foot forward and seek the toughest opponents—he had to get on the game. Not just with perfected moves and performances, but also with a decent idea of what Coordinators he would have to look out for in the future.

But that meant, in his utter shame and annoyance, he’d have to go out and get something.

And he certainly wasn’t in the mood for it.

Slateport’s streets were buzzing. For a moment he felt as if it was way more packed with people than it had ever been to him being there prior. He’d gotten a few looks from people passing by, and even a few squeals from little children who “recognized him from TV”.

That was ordinary for him by that point. Everywhere he went he was recognized and followed—from enthusiastic reporters to die-hard fangirls who were fawning about him all over him—it had become something he always expected and made sure to be careful of.

Absol moved beside him, its horn sharp and protecting; at least Absol wasn’t one to constantly tease him or back him into a corner like Roserade. Its red, gleaming eyes sped across the clearing, clearly picking up dozens of scents, noises, and even noticing little out of the ordinary down the end of the shopping street.

He didn’t even know where to start. He didn’t want to have anything overly dramatic, sure, but he wasn’t going to show up at such a hyped and busy contest with a cheap, pathetic outfit. He’d learnt enough after May had spent months picking at him with a smug look in her eyes, always reminding him how “unmanly” his teal jeans were—if he was going to do it he was going to do it right, even if it was gonna be a tight, prickly suit that pressed against his skin.

“I guess we’ve gotta go in one of these and see what we can find, huh?” Drew murmured—and if anyone else had heard it, it would’ve been described as nearly sounding to him losing his sanity—before he shrugged his shoulders loose and shot Absol a dreaded look, who in response nodded with a sharp eye, apparently understanding his unease.

The neat, jute mat that had been perfectly placed before the overly modern sliding doors made him pause. He shouldn’t procrastinate on it any longer—if he was going to get an outfit he’d do it now, and with Solidad potentially hanging out anywhere he had to take measures. With a dramatic, hesitant sigh he stepped forward, and the doors simultaneously slipped open—a soft, comforting ring of a bell following.

Well, here it goes.

With a swallow through his throat he wanted to step inside—but Arceus had other plans. An overly hyperactive Skitty stormed through the store before it ended up by his feet, clearly puzzled. Its tail was wagging as fast as a happy Growlithe, curious wide eyes piercing into his—before to his utter surprise—the Skitty started clawing at his shoes, somehow enamoured with the not-complex texturing of the leather footwear.

That surely wasn’t something he expected. Absol, who was still standing beside him, perked up before taking deliberate and gentle steps toward the cat Pokémon, quietly babbling to it—it was clear Absol recognized it.

May’s skitty.

Skitty looked at Absol before running up to it and excitedly jumping up and down, its tiny, stub little paws reaching for Absol’s horn that was sharply angled toward the sky—it was clearly not bothered by his sudden appearance. Absol hummed lowly before it stubbornly pressed its claw against Skitty’s forehead, keeping it from reaching any closer or bumping into him.

“That’s May’s Skitty,” Drew murmured, his voice low and drooping despite the short wave of surprise that wept through his chest. He should’ve expected it—Solidad’s text message, May’s Skitty bumping right into him—it was another one of Arceus’ many plots against him in order to make him make a move. He wanted to lightly hit his foot against the ground, but the hyperactive Skitty pretty much being over him made it a little difficult. He forced a half-hearted smile. “Isn’t that right, Absol?” Drew inquired, turning to the disaster Pokémon. Absol nodded, lightly pushing Skitty back and forth as it kept stumbling in its grasp.

He bent down to his knees, eyeing the cat Pokémon with a careful gaze. If May’s Skitty was here, she’d have to be, too—so why wasn’t she anywhere to be found in sight?

Smoothly looping his hands under Skitty’s stomach he swept the Pokémon up in his arms, partly expecting the cat to fight back and hiss—but, instead, to his utter surprise, Skitty nearly curled up in between his arms, purring softly. Its nail-cushion like tail instantly wrapped around his arm; it was clear Skitty was feeling anything but defensive about randomly being picked up. Drew blinked slowly—as if trying to process Skitty’s reaction—before he emitted a sigh, finally making his step into the store. “Guess we gotta go find her..”

The racks of clothing were full with all different kinds of things—sparkly, puffy dresses, neat and well-mannered suits, and even accessories and clothing for Pokémon that were willing to wear them. He made a mental note to search through the clothing as he searched for May, but part of him felt more invested in finding the brunette, as though picking an outfit for the contest barely mattered any more to him. He nearly scoffed at a few ridiculous looking dresses, with the thought of “someone like Harley would probably wear that” as he stumbled past the fabrics, Absol still poised at his side.

After a while of sauntering through what seemed like an endless store, a loud “No, I don’t think that’s it,” echoed through the halls. Before Drew could pause, or do anything for that matter, a blue, puffy, sparkly dress flew over the stacks of racks—headed exactly for him.

Drew didn’t have poor reflexes, though. With a swoop of his arm he coolly caught the fabric, Absol partly recoiling beside him, teeth sharp and bared. Instinctively he folded up the dress in his hand before he made a step to turn around the racks, ready to point out the utterly impolite, unthoughtful action he’d nearly been a victim of—that was, until he actually edged around the rack, and saw the one and only offender of it all; a brunette red from head to toe.

May.

She was rummaging through a spinning rack of dresses and outfits, her eyebrows folded and her tongue nearly sticking out from her lips. She didn’t notice him, that much was apparent. The grudgingly murmured some comments as she sped through the options, murmuring something like “that’s not something I’d wear” here and there, with an occasional moment of hesitation as she held a cloth hanger in front of her.

Absol gave him a knowing, unamused look. This was his moment to step in.

“Your Pokémon sure love running off on you, May,” he spoke up, his gentle but teasing voice echoing through the buzzing store. May instantly shot up from the racks like a startled Eevee, the dress she was holding nearly tumbling out of her hands. She shakily turned to face him, the only emotion registered on her face being surprise. “Wha—Drew? Wait, Skitty?” She squeaked, heat rushing to her face as she watched the Pokémon purr in his arms. “What…are you doing here? And how did Skitty end up in your arms?”

Drew nearly groaned. With a calming shut of his eyes and balling of a fist he fought back up at a smirk. He shouldn’t have been surprised with her lack of attention and sense sometimes, but he was, despite incidents like this having happened too many times before; she was a bit of a hothead sometimes, and it always kept on surprising him, no matter how many times he’d see it happen. “I was walking by when suddenly a Skitty was about to barge out and escape from a store,” he commented flatly, as Skitty jumped down from his hands to land by his feet.

May visibly stiffened, her arms freezing into place like she’d been caught on something utterly surprising and ridiculous. “O–Oh..” She squirmed, shyly moving toward Drew.

“Did you seriously not notice that she ran off?” He asked judgementally, his eyes rolling up at her like this was the biggest crime she’d pulled yet—before his frown faded into a smirk, ready to tease her for the fact she wasn’t properly keeping an eye on the Pokémon she kept with her.

The red-clad coordinator folded her arms behind her back, the warmth rushing up her face, and her cheeks puffed. “Um….no…?” She answered, slowly. She knew there wasn’t any way around it—Drew had a knack for looking right through her every single time, even when she was personally convinced her act was believable.

“Figured,” he scoffed, outstretching the folded Dress in his hands toward May. “You were too busy throwing around dresses with no concern for other people in here.”

May peered down at the dress, blinking slowly. Her gaze slid back up to him before lowering back to the dress again, as if she was waiting for the dress to argue back on her behalf. With a hesitant motion she outstretched her arms to pick up the dress from his hands, legs nearly bopping in embarrassment. “I wasn’t throwing them around,” she protested, though her words wavered. “...I was comparing.”

“Right,” Drew replied, shooting her a criticizing look. “Comparing how many people you could knock over in the process.”

The brunette fumbled again, quickly hiding her hands behind her back as if she had something to keep from him. Her face was nearly scrunched up—her eyes rolling back and forth as if she was searching and hoping for someone to take her side and step in—and her utterly stupid and childish grin that reminded him of a toddler caught red-handed almost made him exclaim a chuckle. “...It only happened once,” she excused, trying to give Drew the most believable face she was able to muster.

But Drew knew better than to fall for that—-May wasn’t exactly good at trying to hide the fact that she was lying. The slight way she stumbled, fiddled with her hands, reached for her skirt or bounced on her feet; May always wore her heart on her sleeve, and, in a way, that’s what made her so expressive. But for her, unfortunately, that wasn’t going to save her from her horrible attempts of lying. He shot her another sharp glare.

“Okay. Twice,” she grumbled as she realized Drew wasn’t going to let her get out of it. “But honestly, can you blame me? There’s so much lovely stuff in here, I can’t help but get excited!”

Drew racked his brain as May danced around the racks of dresses, the ruffles below her shirt flowing along. He expected May to be a shopping fanatic—if anything, he’d seen it himself before—but he couldn’t help but be curious as to why she was so criticizingly picking out a dress to begin with. Was she out shopping for an outfit for the contest, too? He wouldn’t be surprised. But if that was the case, he’d have some pretty rough competition with her in the mix. He kept his tabs on the contests she’d enter, and from what he had seen May’s strategies and combinations were a tough thing to counter.

He’d have to keep his eyes open for that.

Drew slid his hand into his front bangs before flicking out the hair from his face, nose scrunched up and a subtle smirk playing on his lips. “You’re free to be excited, but that doesn’t excuse throwing dresses at people. You’re lucky I’m not some impatient, cranky old lady that will throw a tantrum over you,” he jeered, slowly pushing the dress into May’s chest so she’d accept it and put it back. “What even are you shopping for so fanatically, anyway?”

May instantly grabbed the dress and puffed up her chest, head high and nose up into the air like a proud Pyroar, the grin on her face gleaming. “Well, I’m glad you asked!” The brunette sang, hanging up the dress back on the rack where it previously had been. “You see, for Slateport city’s contest you need a special outfit to fulfill the criteria. And if you give me a chance to shop for dresses, you know I will.” She happily jabbed her finger around, clearly enjoying the shopping spree—unaware Drew had been there for the exact same thing. “Oh—but what are you here for, Drew? You entering the contest?”

Absol lowly trilled beside him, and Drew shoved his hands into his pockets, nodding. “Something like that. I was just passing through, looking to prepare, until your Skitty here started bouncing around and almost got lost. I already hunch you and Skitty would cause some ruckus if she happened to get lost here,” he smirked, tauntingly turning his head away from May. “But I wasn’t really surprised. Like Pokémon like trainer, they say.”

May stomped her foot angrily, nearly setting Skitty back in startlement. “She’s naturally hyperactive and has a short attention span, that’s not my fault!” She protested desperately—her face only getting warmer as Skitty jumped back and forth and started circling Drew’s feet before she ended up enamoured with Absol’s horn. “She…she had that ever since I first got her!” she continued, as if overexplaining would fix the fact that, despite they didn’t influence each other directly, they were all too similar in behavior.

“Well, you do attract chaos,” Drew countered smugly.

“I attract fun,” she hissed back.

“We’ll see how fun it is when Skitty runs off on you and you have to spend hours finding her,” he retorted without trouble, making a slight turn on his heel to the left. “And you won’t get saved out of that trouble by me or your friends.”

May scoffed. “You’re always such a buzzkill,” she huffed, pointing her finger at him accusingly. “If I’m so chaotic, why don’t you just leave me alone? I have shopping to do. If I wanna show off and win that contest, I need to be prepared—I don’t have time for your stupid teasing.” With a high-pitched hmph and Skitty still standing by Drew’s feet she made a move to turn around, just to find herself realizing she couldn’t just run off like that; Skitty was still with Drew. Slowly and hesitantly she turned back around, eyeing Skitty sharply. “Skitty. Let’s go?”

Skitty, who had paused from reaching from Absol’s horn, turned around and confusedly blinked at her for a second—before mindlessly turning back around and pawing at Absol, who had outreached his claw again to keep her from coming closer.

“Looks like Skitty’s got more important things on her mind,” he jeered.

May sank from her strong stance, her arms and legs going slack, and she nearly sunk into the floor—the pout that appeared on her lips stopped by an exaggerated sigh. Her dog-like bangs hung in front of her squinted, guilty eyes, and she slowly observed as Skitty kept pawing at the disaster Pokémon, clearly not as bothered as May was. “She always does that,” she murmured as Absol let out an unsatisfied grunt. “One moment she’s nodding her head and obedient, and the next she’s speeding around at the rate of a Rapidash, not noticing a single thing I’m saying!”

Drew lowered himself to one knee before wrapping his hand around Skitty’s lower belly, swooping it up from Absol’s claws without a single problem. With an honest, entertained laugh he turned back to May, an obedient Skitty nestling in his arms. “Reminds me of someone,” he joked lightly, his smile betraying him.

“Skitty really seems to like you, huh,” May hummed—ignoring his comment as if she knew it wasn’t relevant at the moment—as her gaze rolled over to Skitty nuzzling into Drew’s arms. “You…you really seem to have a way with Pokémon.”

Drew had to ignore the sudden tug in his heart as May was fiddling with the edge of her shirt, her eyes shying away onto his feet—her comment surprised him, because as much as he found himself to get along dandily with most of the Pokémon he’d met, he had always seen May as the one endlessly bonding with anyone, no matter if they were friend or foe. She had that way with people; she rarely ever judged, and she was always keen to find the backstory between things. He’d noticed that all too many times—from the way she’d calmed and helped an aggressive Beartic who’d lost his baby Cubchoo, to times she’d save innocent and hurt Pokémon, even if they’d retaliate. He tried to keep the words of “you’re the one who’s natural at that”, behind his teeth.

“I suppose,” he muttered.

Skitty launched herself with surprising confidence from Drew’s arms into May’s waiting embrace, landing gracefully before immediately brushing her plush, cushion-like tail against May’s forearm in a gentle, deliberate motion—almost as though she were trying to soothe her. May blinked in mild surprise at first, then her expression softened, a small smile gradually spreading across her face. She let out a quiet laugh and adjusted her hold, cradling Skitty securely against her chest like a baby.

“You’re such a little troublemaker,” May murmured fondly, giving Skitty a playful tap beneath the chin. “You know that, right?”

Skitty responded with a bright, innocent chirp, tilting her head as though she had no idea what May could possibly be referring to—despite the long trail of chaos she had caused throughout their travels together. The sight of them like this, so effortlessly at ease, tugged at Drew’s heart. He hadn’t realized he was watching so closely until he felt the corners of his mouth lift into an unconscious smile. There was something about May’s warmth; her laughter, her presence that always seemed to settle into his chest, filling his lungs with a quiet, comforting feeling he’d never figure out.

“Either way,” the brunette piped up after a minute of poking Skitty’s enthusiastic dangling paws, her smile bright. “I need to get back to finding something. I’ve been looking for a while, but… still found nothing. I need something perfect—beauty takes time, after all. What about you, Drew? You’re gonna leave in your usual fashion?”

The words “yeah, I’ll have to get going”, burned in his throat, but despite that he couldn’t fight the words up to his teeth; suddenly, May’s sparkling eyes and the idea of her buying a dress made his stomach go haywire, and almost instinctively to catch himself he flicked a strand of hair from his face, his smirk piercing. “I think I’ll stink around,” he commented—as smoothly and nonchalant as he could—before he shot May a teasing glare, not willing to show his inner fluster, “Someone needs to keep you in check. If I leave you’ll be throwing dresses around again.”

May stood angrily, frustration still simmering beneath the surface as her arms tightened instinctively around Skitty. The little Pokémon peeked out from against her chest, blinking up at her with wide eyes before wagging her tail in tentative concern. May huffed softly and muttered something under her breath, though her grip softened almost immediately, fingers absentmindedly brushing through Skitty’s fur as if to reassure them both.

She had no idea, of course, of the quiet storm unfolding just a few steps away.

Drew watched her with an expression he hoped no one could read too easily. Somewhere along the way, May had changed—in appearance, and in presence. She carried herself with more confidence now, her laughter more certain, her kindness more deliberate. She wasn’t just the energetic girl who charged ahead without thinking anymore; she was someone people naturally gravitated toward. She’d lost her baby fat, and she was growing in ways puberty happened to hit girls. She was a lady while he still felt himself to be a stupid little boy. And lately, he’d noticed others noticing her too.

It unsettled him more than he cared to admit. Not out of jealousy exactly—at least, that’s what he told himself—but out of something closer to instinctive concern. He knew how easily people could misunderstand her warmth, how quickly strangers could take advantage of someone who was simply trying to be kind. The thought made his shoulders tense, even as he kept his voice calm and his expression carefully neutral—she was a wonderful, lovely girl. And the feeling of any guy seeing her in an outfit like a dress unnerved him like never before.

“I’ll be fine, thank you,” May protested, Skitty squirming in her arms.

“Really? And what about your fashion sense? I’m not forgetting that awful neon-pink jacket you got for Snowpoint way back,” Drew taunted, pointing a finger accusingly at a horrible looking, multi-colored dress that had been hung over the rack, clearly put up by May.

“I was eleven back then, Drew! Eleven!” The brunette shot back.

“Still you’re not meant to be trusted with fashion,” Drew retorted calmly and smugly, trying to ignore the tug at his heart that was still reminding him of how utterly jealous he felt. “It’s best I stick with you for yours and everyone else's sake,” he continued smoothly, swooshing his hand back in his pocket.

“Wow, real generous of you,” May scoffed, pulling Skitty a little bit closer to her chest. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you—this could take awhile, and you’ve got a knack for complaining.”

Drew shot back a grin. “I’ve endured worse with you.”

He immediately regretted how fast his pulse jumped the moment she stopped in front of a rack and began flipping through dresses with a kind of sharp focus that she only showed during contests, or when she was strategizing. She held up a ruffly, creme colored dress that had short, puffy sleeves and multiple layers of flowing skirt. Drew couldn’t help it as his eyes lingered on the dress—barely able to stop himself. It wasn’t particularly flashy or anything—it was just…her. It seemed like anything she touched seemed to become warmer, and more beautiful.

“Well?” May inquired, taking a slight turn toward him, “doesn’t look too bad, right?”

Drew snapped himself out of his thoughts, feeling the nerves creep up his neck like a Spinarak. Forcing the feelings down his body he cleared his throat, recovering. “It’s…acceptable,” he replied, quickly—without missing a beat—before he fought up a wide smirk, confidence filling his lungs again despite May’s image in his head. “It at least won’t blind everyone who sees it.”

May scoffed and immediately slackened her grip, nearly letting the dress slip from her hands. “I should’ve known you’d say something like that—you’re impossible.” With a sharp flick, she turned the dress to check the label at the back of the collar, her gaze narrowing in concentration. “Why are you so invested in this, anyway? You never care about how people look—that’s never been your thing,” she mused, lifting her head to meet his eyes again, the fabric still bunched between her fingers. “And you certainly always take the chance to flee when the word ‘shopping’ is mentioned.”

“People change,” he said coolly, though his eyes followed her movements precisely as she ducked to put the hanger with the dress on where it previously hung. Or maybe he was just trying to convince himself.

May hummed, unconvinced, but didn’t push it. Oblivious as ever, she continued gathering options, chatting idly about colors and fabrics while Drew trailed along, offering sarcastic commentary he barely registered or cared about. All he could really think about was how strange it felt; standing there, watching her laugh, imagining her stepping out from behind a fitting-room curtain in one dress after another—and how badly he hoped she wouldn’t notice the way his attention never strayed. She continued digging into the racks of clothing, occasionally pulling out a dress before putting it back where it was when she decided it wasn’t her style.

Drew didn’t have a single idea about how long this shopping thing would take. And although his ego and mind screamed to stop and let go, he felt his heart tug hardest—he enjoyed being by her side, and seeing every bit of her as she happily bounced around critiquing and examining dresses. He’d never liked shopping, never, but with May here he almost caught him telling himself it maybe wasn’t that bad at all.

With a sharp inhale he pushed that thought down.

From outfit to outfit and from dress to dress May went, her eyes sharply squeezing half-closed as she tried to decide if it was something or not. If he’d actually been taking count of the amounts of dresses she’d pulled he would’ve lost count; he’d seen everything. From minidresses to full on dramatic ballgowns, layered skirts or tight and overly neat corsets that made him shiver at the thought of wearing—it all looked decent, and although May seemed to like most of them enough, Drew didn’t feel exactly right. It wasn’t truly her.

May slumped down into one of the leather sofa cushions, sighing heavily. Her shoulders hung low and her dog-like bangs drooped beside her face. She didn’t seem tired at all—though Drew already was, despite barely doing anything for the cause—instead she looked a little hopeless, Skitty curiously pawing at her feet. “Will I ever find something that’s…really right?” she wondered aloud, her eyes traveling up the ceiling. “Because although I’ve liked all of these, it doesn’t feel…true to me, you know? And I don’t wanna do any less than what’s good.”

Drew hummed softly, going through the options in his head. “We always have one more shot asking at the reception desk. Maybe they’ve a good eye for what would fit and perhaps even some things that aren’t displayed out here,” he suggested, bending down to give Skitty a scratch behind her ear.

May seemed to recover almost instantly, lifting herself from the sofa as if a surge of renewed hope and energy raced through her veins faster than lightning. “You’re right!” she chirped, the gloom vanishing from her expression. With a smooth swoosh of her arms, she scooped Skitty up and held her snugly between her hands and chest, the Pokémon letting out a soft, surprised trill. May’s eyes sparkled with pure excitement as she grinned. “They’re way more professional about fashion than I am, anyway,” she went on, bouncing Skitty just a little as if the idea itself thrilled her. “Maybe they’d spot something I completely overlooked—some little detail or perfect piece I didn’t even think to notice! Just imagine it…the dress I didn’t notice…the piece that would be the perfect match in the end!”

Drew couldn’t help him before a content—and dare he say it—adoring laugh escaped his lips, and pulled himself back upright to follow May, who was skipping away happily now, toward the counter desks. The red-clad brunette waltzed toward the desk with no shame, the tails of her bandana bouncing up and down as she went. “Excuse me, ma’am!” May called happily, waving over the older woman that seemed to be scanning items at the end of the hall.

In a minute the lady had turned around and made her way to the desk, her luscious short hair brushing her face. “Yes, sweetie, how can I help you?” The woman cooed gently, watching with soft and approving eyes as Drew moved forward to step beside her.

May fiddled with her fingers nervously, the tails of her bandana drooping along with her bangs. “I’m planning to enter Slateport city’s annual contest this year, but I need a good, special super contest dress to fit the criteria—except I tried everything, but I just haven’t found anything that fit,” she explained, dramatically expressing her worry with lashes of her arms and spins of her head. “I was wondering if you perhaps could lend a hand picking something out?”

The woman didn’t answer immediately.

She rested one hand against her chin, her eyes softening as they traced May from head to toe—not appraising, not critical, but deeply thinking. She watched the way May stood when she wasn’t performing with confidence, the way her fingers worried at the fabric of her gloves, and the affection she radiated as she held Skitty close to her chest. Even the faint stains of mud on her platform shoes she noticed.

“Hm…” The woman murmured thoughtfully before a gentle smile broke down upon her lips, subtle enough to barely be noticed by May—but enough for Drew to notice.

May stiffened a little. “Is…that bad?”

“Oh, no,” the woman replied gently but quickly, waving the thought away with a loose swing of her hand, which had been adorned with a bracelet of stones, crystals and beads that bounced off each other as she moved. “Quite the opposite, actually.” She met May’s eyes again, something and trusting sparkling in her gaze. “You remind me of someone—someone who shines the brightest when they don’t try to shine that much at all.”

That made May blink. She thoughtfully pressed her thumb against her chin before she faded into a train of thought, her gaze dwindling down from the woman’s eyes to the counter. Drew knew the words landed exactly where they were meant to be. The woman was right—May shone brightest when she was herself. When she wasn’t putting up a confident act, wearing fancy outfits she’d spent hours picking out. She shone brightest when she wore something that was natural and true to her, without trying too hard to be perfect.

The woman turned from the desk, already moving. “Follow me. I think I know what you’ve been missing,” she hummed, giving May an approving, reassuring smile accompanied by a playful wink. May didn’t skip a beat—with a quick nod she followed her trail, and Drew nodded softly to himself as he trailed along, curious what the woman had in store.

They passed beyond the main floor, past mirrors and mannequins frozen in elegant poses, until the noise from the store softened into a hush.  The lighting changed too—less sharp, more golden. The woman stopped in front of a tall wardrobe tucked neatly into the wall, its doors carved with delicate wave patterns that made it almost look like a vintage piece of wood. Drew even noticed a measuring stick with a pair of scissors and paint in the corner near a desk in the corner of the room.

“This isn’t something I show often, or put on display in the store,” the woman admitted, giving a glance back at May. “Because it’s not just meant for someone who wants to become a contest star—it’s for someone who already is one,” she hummed sweetly, the crinkles around her lips and below her eyes shifting, “And needs something that fits that idea.” With a gentle tug of her hand she opened the closet’s door, revealing a bold, cute but effective dress that almost seemed like it was glowing in the soft light of the back area.

The dress was bright without being loud—alive with warmth. A soft rose-pink bodice hugged the form without looking too tight, trimmed neatly in white with soft ruffles. The skirt flared outward in layered panels of pink and deep magenta, each edge finished with a crisp white border that almost made it sparkle. A ribbon sat proudly at the front of the bodice, tied just carefully and nicely enough to radiate a sense of sweetness. The short skirt promised enough room for movement—accompanied by a Pokéball on the side of the skirt, placed gently up on a soft cloth that made it look like it had wings.

“It’s one of a kind—meant for true contest-stars at heart. Just like you, May Maple,” the woman hummed.

“You…know me?” May murmured, turning to the woman with flushed cheeks. If Drew wasn’t absolutely drawn in by the dress and how much it seemed to him like it was perfect for May, he would’ve laughed at her being so surprised for being recognized. She wasn’t just a normal, average coordinator in the background now—she was a professional, a standard, and an idol, even if she never was that conscious about it.

The woman emitted a laugh in response, her old, raspy, but happy voice echoing through the room like music. “Of course I do, darling,” she cooed, gently reaching in to take the contest dress from the hanger, before turning back to her, her eyes squinting lovingly. “I used to be a coordinator, too, back in the day—in fact, this model of dress is a rework of the first dress I’ve ever worn. I don’t participate anymore, since my body is getting slower unlike you young’uns, but the contest industry is dear to me. I try to watch contests whenever I can, from my TV. You’ve been one of the coordinators, who, the moment you showed up, I had a feeling in my stomach you’d make it this far—and the time passing has told me I’m right.”

May started blinking hastily as if she was fighting back happy tears, blush dusting her cheeks. “Really?” She squeaked. “That.. means a lot. If anyone would’ve told me when I was young I’d make it so far I would’ve…laughed in their face.”

The woman laughed, sending May one of the most gentle smiles Drew’d ever witnessed from anyone. “Top-coordinators tend to have an eye for those kinds of things,” she hummed—as her gaze temporarily shot to Drew, giving him a knowing look—before she turned back to May, her fuzzy curls framing her face. “Sometimes it’s just a feeling you get. You don’t just have a lot of potential to make stunning combinations, or to fight precisely and deliberately—you radiate a sense of joy, care, and connection with your Pokémon, which is one of the most important qualities to have when you’re a coordinator. And you had that.”

May shook her head, a tear traveling down her cheek. “That means so much, ma’am. Thank you.”

With a quick shake of her head the woman laughed again. “Call me Belle, dear.”

“Thank you…Belle,” May sniffed, rubbing her cloudy eyes with her hands.

Drew felt a multitude of feelings as the woman reached over to give May a comforting, reassuring hug. Pride, at how far she had come and that she had people around to remind her of it; adoration, that May could feel such heartfelt words—words he had never heard directed at her in that way; and a soft ache in his chest as May buried her face against the woman’s shoulder. He had seen May cry before. Though she usually carried herself with joy and optimism, there were rare moments—moments of profound struggle or loss—that could draw those tears out of her. He didn’t know every hidden layer of May’s past, but he knew one thing for certain; no matter how well he thought he understood her, she would always find ways to surprise him. He felt his heart tighten every moment May sharply inhaled through her nose.

He barely could stop himself as he stepped forward to place a hand on May’s shivering back.

“Drew, can you hold Skitty for me?” May asked, one arm tightly secured around the struggling cat Pokémon while the other held the hanger with the contest dress. Skitty was squirming in her grasp, clearly energized again after a while of cuddling in May’s arms. “I don’t want Skitty causing a ruckus while I’m trying to change.”

Drew nodded almost immediately, and without protest or any more teasing or comments he took Skitty from her arms—who, despite seeming to like him so much, remained fumbling in his arms—before he watched May step into the changing-room. The curtain slipped and screeched close in front of him, and for a moment he felt like he couldn’t breathe a second longer. The mere idea of May in such a bright and stunning dress, just like her, made his heart shoot up in his chest and made the Butterfree in his stomach dance—and the overwhelming but sweet present of Belle side him watching his slightly quivering hands didn’t help.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as May grunted and pouted, the soft rumbling of the clothes keeping him more awake and alarmed than he ever would want to admit—Skitty remained active, pawing at his thumb that had been unconsciously drawing circles on her back.

Only for a second he let his guard down—and Skitty took the opportunity.

With the speed of a quick attack Skitty freed herself from his arms and jumped onto the ground, before sharply racing over to the changing booth. Curiously and playfully it started batting her paws at the black, velvet curtains, clearly no worry or concern for the fact May was changing her clothes behind said curtains. Drew felt his stomach sink, and in a desperate attempt he rose from the cushions, heartbeat in his throat. “Skitty, stop!”

Belle clapped a hand over her mouth, muttering an “Oh dear”, as she made a slow and hesitant lunch forward, watching with wide eyes as Skitty—in the midst of her cluelessness and playfulness—threatened to make the curtain budge. Skitty didn’t seem so concerned though, and kept pawing at the fabric until she practically hung onto it.

“Skitty?” May called, clearly alarmed. The ringing of the curtain by moving seemed almost deafening, screeching slightly, as May could be heard shuffling from behind the curtains. “Skitty, don’t do that! You can’t just play with something that isn’t yours!” She squeaked, clearly unfazed and unbothered by the fact she was mid-changing. More concerned about others—that’s how May was. He wasn’t surprised. But despite that, he felt an uncanny wave of unease and defensiveness seep into his stomach.

His heartbeat dropped simultaneously as the curtain came crashing down.

Right on him.

Belle let out an alarmed gasp of surprise as the cloth ended up all over him, and even May squeaked. The rumbling of footsteps neared him, and before he knew it May had crouched by his side, trying to tug the curtain off of him as he fumbled. He nearly sneezed as the sensitive and delicate textures brushed his nose, and he couldn’t help but emit a low, irritated groan; of course he was the one that had to be the victim of May’s—and Skitty’s—chaos. “Drew, are you okay?” She asked, worry evident in her tone. Drew could only desperately fight to get the huge piece of cloth off him.

The moment the pitch black fabric had slid off of him—toward his lower stomach—the welcoming and bright lights from the store blinded him. He had to blink for a moment as May was hunched above him, eyes wide and her lips curved downward. For a heartbeat, Drew couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing.

May—shining from head to toe.

May’s back hair was slightly tied into a small ponytail—so much so he hadn’t realized before that her hair had gotten longer—her signature, dog-like bangs framing her cheeks. The ribboned bodice at her chest, and the puffed and layered skirt down to her upper legs. Ribboned like shoes that Belle had given along adorned on her feet. And last but not least, a mega ring—though it had no mega stone yet, he noticed—on a glimmering, yellow bracelet around her wrist.

It was the bracelet Belle worn. Had she given it to her?

He could only reminisce and watch May with wide eyes as she remained hunched over him. Despite her fumbling with the curtain that had dropped to his knees and the mutter of a worried exclamation here and there, he could barely focus as she spoke to him. She was bright. She was shining. It was pink, bright, lively—everything that embodied her and who she was. Not just as a coordinator, but as a person. He barely noticed the small earring she’d put in her ear.

Drew’s breath hitched in his throat.

“...Oh,” he muttered—almost instinctively—before he could stop himself, the heat rushing to his face and the lack of words and air in his throat making it hard to breathe. “It’s….”

May froze before waving her hands in a panic, Skitty cluelessly standing by her feet. “Oh, I’m so—I’m so sorry, Drew! Are you alright? Are you unharmed? Startled, scared!?” She freaked, before taking a sharp turn toward Skitty and picking her up with a kind of strong force and strength that could break open a wall. “Skitty, apologize now! Not only did you ruin part of Belle’s own property that she keeps clean mostly herself, you also put Drew in danger!” She roared, although Skitty—who seemed almost entirely unfazed—only let out an innocent, happy meow, pressing her head into the ribbon on her bodice. “Oh… I’m so sorry, Drew. And… you too, Belle. I should’ve put her back in the Pokéball,” she sighed, the worry in her eyes washed over by a sense of guilt.

“Oh, no worries, dear,” Belle piped back, waving her hands dismissively. “I was thinking it was about time for some more cheerful curtains to fit the store much rather than such depressing, dark curtains—besides, your Skitty’s packed with energy; so much that it’s almost adorable,” the woman hummed, pressing a finger to her lips that leaked a smile.

At that May visibly relaxed, but not before she took another turn toward Drew, the worry in her eyes not yet wavering. “Drew?” She called, unaware the storm brewing in Drew’s head was far from startlement from the curtain falling. “Drew, are you okay? I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to let that happen! I should’ve stopped Skitty when I had the chance, and—”

“You look lovely, May,” he breathed.

He couldn’t help the words passing through his teeth.

May froze instantly, all the worry and concern she’d worn draining from her face. Instead it was replaced with a flourish of reds and pinks that rose to her cheeks at the speed of lighting, and almost her ears seemed to pinken and steam. The folds of the curtains in her hands seemed to slip from her grasp, her arms going numb. “...O-Oh,” She spluttered, realizing what he’d said. “You…think?”

Drew reached up to pull his sleeved arm to his nose, in a desperate attempt to hide the flush creeping up his cheeks, before he nodded slowly, his lips trembling, and his gaze shying away despite his heart screaming to keep looking. “Y-Yeah,” he muttered, flicking a strand of hair from his eyes, “It…it really brings out the colors of your eyes…”

“I—in a contrast to the stage, I mean,” he corrected—no, excused himself—before he shakily rose back up to his feet.

May looked taken aback before she burst into a fit of adorable laughter, her hand sneaking up to her lips to stifle her giggles. “Well, thank you, mister,” she grinned into the palm of her hand, barely able to control the sounds of laughter and joy that she nearly snorted through her nose. “That’ll surely win me the contest—I could deliver the worst performance and even then I’d come out victorious,” she joked, her contagious laugh almost provoking a laugh of Drew’s own from him. “I’ll win everyone over!”

She’d already won everyone over—and not because of the outfits she’d worn. “Oh, you’d love that,” Drew retorted—feeling natural enough to let the smugness return—before he shot her an amused look, eyes taunting. “You’ll need it, since your performances do need a lot of work, still..”
May couldn’t even get mad. Instead she nearly doubled over with laughter, even Skitty sniggering along, although it seemed to be laughing around more for the fun of it rather than actually understanding the situation. “Come on, Drew,” May laughed, holding the cat Pokémon securely between her arms that were trembling with laughter, “You have to admit I’ve gotten better. I might’ve carried with my cute looks and attitude in the beginning, but now it’s gotten real serious. I’ve become pretty good at performing, but you just have too much of an ego to ever admit it.”

Drew, before he could stop himself, joined into the laughter. Despite Belle’s too bright and lively laughter joining along, he couldn’t help but hear as May’s laughing filled his ears like a melody he’d never get tired of. For the first time in forever he’d laughed like that. He barely laughed like that—let alone around May. But she wore her heart on her sleeve, and as much as Drew never liked to be open and raw, he finally felt like it was okay to laugh. To humor and adore the situation, and them, as stupid as it was. He would’ve made a snarky remark at the moment Belle gave him a knowing smile, that almost seemed like a smirk—but he felt happy. Too happy to protest.

“Guess we’ve found the perfect outfit, after all,” Belle laughed sweetly, her earrings dangling by her fuzzy, curled locks. “I don’t think we could’ve found anything better.”

May grinned widely, her teeth showing. Skitty purred in her arms, mirroring her joy. “For sure! This is the outfit, I just know it! It’s.. it’s me, and it’s adorable, too! And you like it too, don’t you, Skitty?” The brunette chimed, breaking into laughter again as she gently pawed at the ribbon on the corset, tail wagging like an amused and happy Poochyena. “That’s what I thought!”

Drew could only watch with a smile tugging at his lips as his eyes followed her, never once looking away.

With a stop at the counter May paid and thanked Belle for the service—at one point she even seemed saddened to leave—but Belle suggested exchanging phone numbers and keeping in contact. That made May brighten, and almost instantly May had met and befriended yet another person. The dress had been paid for, neatly distributed in an adorable white plastic bag with a Kirlia at the front.

“Good luck at your contest, May,” Belle sang, handing over the bag toward the brunette. “I’ll be watching—and cheering you on, of course. Give it your all, Darling.”

May smiled stupidly—almost as stupid as a little child smiling head to toe from joy after getting candy, or even a toy they’d been wishing so hard for to get—before her dog-like bangs bounced by her face, her head nodding eagerly like an overly excited and happy Eevee. “I will, Belle, thank you! I’ll be winning this contest, just for you—watch! I won’t let you or your work on this dress down!”

Belle pressed the palm of her hand to her cheek, smiling warmly. “Good, May. I wouldn’t expect any less of you,” she hummed, before turning to Drew with soft, trusting eyes. “And you good luck, too, Drew. At everything.”

May giggled happily, unaware of the storm of thoughts that breezed through his head. The mere look the woman had given him multiple times through the day had been clear—just like Solidad had told him. Was he that obvious about liking May? “And you good luck, too, Drew. "At everything". If May hadn’t been there, he knew Belle would’ve made one or another comment about the way he’d looked at her in awe when May pulled the curtain off of him. But, for now, he couldn’t complain. Even if he tried.

“Thank you, Belle,” he murmured coolly, despite the warmth in his chest. “It was a pleasure meeting such an experienced coordinator.”

The woman smiled from head to toe. “And it was an honour meeting such talented coordinators with such a great future ahead of you—I’ll be watching, and cheering you on.”

The two waved off Belle, and with renewed energy the two left the store, May still bouncing all over the place  rather happily despite all the time they’d spent scanning the halls and clothing they’d had. Skitty fell asleep in her arms, clearly more affected by the chaos and events of that day—if Drew wasn’t mistaken he could almost hear Skitty snoring slightly, a tooth poking out from her mouth. “Man,” May yawned. “This sure was eventful; I’m exhausted. And then not to mention the contest hasn’t even begun yet!”

“For sure,” Drew sighed. He’d need weeks of sleep to make up for all the thinking and feelings he’d felt in just a span of a few hours. “We’ll need some proper rest before we go out to train again.”

May rubbed at her eyes. “Yeah,” she muttered—before turning toward him with a tired but content smile, her eyelashes fluttering slightly. “It was nice for you to stick around, though, Drew. As much as I’m not used to it from you, it was a nice surprise. It was… rather comforting. Despite the fact Skitty knocked over an entire curtain merely by playing with it.”

“It still blows my mind that your Skitty managed to pull that off,” Drew said, shaking his head with a low, incredulous chuckle. A crooked grin tugged at his lips as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Honestly, it’s always the sweetest, most innocent-looking Pokémon that end up packing the most brutal strength. Yours especially.” He glanced sideways at Skitty, then back at May. “Still… I had a good time. And you know how rare that is for me—shopping isn’t exactly my battlefield.” His gaze lingered on her a moment longer, softer now. “I’m glad you found that dress. It suits you. Belle had it right—nothing else would’ve come close.”

May ducked her head, a shy smile spreading across her face as her fingers idly smoothed through Skitty’s fluffy coat. The Pokémon purred, clearly enjoying the attention. “Well… thank you, Drew,” she said, warmth creeping into her voice. She let out a quiet breath, her shoulders relaxing. “But I think I’m about ready to head back to the Pokémon Center. I’m completely wiped.” She looked up at him again, eyes bright despite her exhaustion. “I’ll see you at the contest, right?”

“Obviously,” Drew replied, his smirk snapping back into place. He reached up and flicked his hair back in a practiced, almost theatrical motion. “You’d better be ready, May. I won’t be holding back from you—with contest-star dress or not.”

May straightened, confidence returning as she lifted her chin. “Count on it, mister,” she shot back, her grin matching his beat for beat.

“...Splendid,” Drew said, letting out a scoff that bordered on a snort. He turned on his heel and started off down the path, but paused just long enough to throw a casual salute over his shoulder. As he walked away, the warmth he hadn’t quite been able to shake swelled again in his chest, then settled somewhere in his stomach. May’s cheerful “see you later!” echoed faintly behind him as the distance grew. Despite the crisp March air nipping at his skin, Drew found himself feeling oddly warm; light, even—from head to toe.

Suddenly—to his utter humiliation and letdown—his head clicked.

Only then he realized he’d completely forgotten to get himself a suit.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the long awaited annual Slateport city contest!”

The voice of Vivian flooded through the huge arena—the stands were packed, not a single seat left free. The cheering and roaring of excitement of the crowd boomed throughout the stadium as Vivian bounced around, her puffy dress swirling along with every move she made. The crowd was hyped, including Vivian—this contest was one of a kind, and nobody wanted to miss out on it.

Vivian happily flung out her index finger toward the crowd, smile bright and voice booming. “But this Slateport contest isn’t just another ordinary contest—it’s Slateport’s contest anniversary!” She announced, her voice empowering and strong despite the major noise from the crowd. “And to celebrate the feat of having held so many memorable contests, we’ve got a challenge; a special theme!”

Behind the locker rooms Drew instinctively reached for his neck to straighten his tie. He was lying if he said he wasn’t used to it—he was far from it. He’d gotten used to major audiences, screaming and adoring fans, and even the most interesting coordinators, but a special theme like having to dress up was far from his comfort zone. He nearly felt icked as the folds of his suit pressed tightly against his skin. But he couldn’t show it; he had a show to put on. But despite that he couldn’t help shoving his hands into his pockets, a habit he’d grown into if he happened to be nervous.

Masquerain hovered by his shoulder, the light beating of its wings completely overshadowed by the distant but powerful murmurs of coordinators and nervous chirping ahead in the locker rooms. Although he was rather unused to such a themed contest, he wasn’t going to let it influence him—unlike other coordinators that happened to be bouncing around the halls, concerned about how they and their Pokémon were looking. He was poised and thrilled to head up to perform again, even with the tightness of his suit ticking him off. Him and Masquerain were putting on a show. A show like they always did.

He was, at least, until he stepped through the doorway to the locker rooms.

May was noticeable. She was bright—she always was. He didn’t mean to freeze half-way. He knew she was going to enter this contest, so why was his heart rushing up his throat at the mere sight of her? He wanted to huff, turn around and leave, but the soft batting of Masquerain’s wings behind him made him realize there wasn’t going back now. Not because of May. She might have been looking sparkly, stunning and beautiful in that contest dress, but he wasn’t going to let that affect him. He had to focus. It was now or never.

“And the contest theme for this contest is inspired by the one and only super contest from Sinnoh!” Vivian’s voice boomed through the speakers again, catching both him and May off guard. Vivian twirled around the stage, and the crowd was still roaring uncontrollably—Drew wouldn’t be surprised if contest fans from all over the world came to see this contest. “Sparkly and beautiful attire, Pokéball seals and endless showy performances…what came from Sinnoh is today here in our beautiful Hoenn, Slateport city!” she exclaimed loudly before sticking her hand up in the air. “It’s gonna be glamorous today—strap in your seats, folks, because this is gonna be a wild ride!”

The crowd roared. And roared.

“But before we start on our contestants' appeals, we’ve got to introduce our judges—including a special guest,” Vivian exclaimed mysteriously, her puffy sleeves dancing around as she turned toward the panel of judges that had laid hidden and dark behind the lights. Slowly the first light flickered on, revealing Raoul Contesta, Mister Sukizo and Nurse Joy in clockwork order. It wasn’t a surprise to see those three. Raoul Contesta nodded politely, Sukizo remarked he was excited for such a remarkable themed contest, and Nurse Joy happily exclaimed good luck to all the contestants.

“And last but not least, Sinnoh’s one and only talented gym leader and coordinator—everyone, give it up for Fantina!” Vivian’s voice rang out with jubilant enthusiasm, practically vibrating through the arena as the last flicker of light danced across the stage to reveal her. The crowd erupted in astonished cheers and applause, a wave of surprise washing over them; few had anticipated this twist. They had been bracing themselves for the usual super contest theme, but instead, here she was, stepping onto the stage as a special guest. Fantina’s eyes sparkled as she waved, a warm smile spreading across her face. “I am truly honored to be here with all of you today! I can’t wait to see every single performance; so give it everything you’ve got and shine like only you can!”

May practically bounced off of the locker bench, making Drew snap out of his thoughts—and made him realize once again he wasn’t alone. “No way!” May exclaimed, her mouth agape. Skitty stood by her feet still, tail wagging and eyes curious. “Fantina is here?”

Drew felt his own surprise bubble up in his chest, but he was quick to mask it. With a content but amused grin on his lips and slightly furrowed eyebrows he gazed up at the monitor—with even more determination and energy flowing through his veins now—before he let out a scoff. “Hmph. So that’s how serious they are about this contest,” he mustered. “They don’t bring a top-coordinator and gym leader for nothing.”

His eyes flickered toward May—this was going to be a tough competition. But he wasn’t going to put himself at a loss so easily.

“So without further ado, let’s get on with the show,” Vivian chimed through the microphone, the judges poised beside her and the crowd still roaring like there was no tomorrow, “Let’s give it up for our amazing contestants—appeal rounds start now!”

Before Drew could blink, calls for contestants blared through the speakers. Coordinators rushed through the halls with Pokémon at their side, some doing a quick pep-talk while others were straight up rehearsing their routine. Drew wasn’t too concerned about reminding himself of routine; he’d done that all week. He had trust and confidence in Masquerain, and despite May standing a few feet ahead of him in that dress that trust wasn’t wavering—he was going to win this contest like he’d won every single one of his.

“Sounds like tough competition, huh?” Drew mused, taking a few brave steps toward May, who, upon hearing him turned around as fast as a Blitzle, her eyes sparkling with surprise. She looked just as lovely as she had when they had picked out the outfit—except this time her hair seemed a bit more neatly combed, and although she seemed to be radiating confidence and pride he couldn’t help but notice the soft trembling of her hands, her chest sharply lifting up and down as she breathed. It was clear that she meant to stick to her words of not letting Belle down.

“Drew!” May exclaimed happily, her little ponytail on the back of her head fluttering as she bounced. “I was already wondering when you’d show up—you’re looking fancy.”

For a moment Drew’s confidence wavered. With a huff and heat rushing up to his cheeks he reached up his arm to flick some hair from his face once again, noticing that Masquerain had started slowly flying around, clearly influenced by his nerves. “I might think dressing up is a waste of time, but I’m not letting some stupid dressing up business come in the way of earning a ribbon,” He mused—his eyes instinctively fluttering shut in a manner of both showing indifference and trying to avoid May’s eyes—as a smirk tugged by his lips. “I promised you I’d be showing you what me and my Pokémon can do, anyway.”

May grinned, Skitty still by her feet. “Good, because Skitty and I have been rehearsing for ages—no matter what tricks you’re gonna pull, Drew, we’re not going to hold back. I’m going to win that Slateport ribbon and make Belle proud,” She huffed, her hands curled into tight fists at her sides.

“Well, I don’t insist on losing, either,” Drew countered coolly, Masquerain hovering over to chat with Skitty who was batting her tail excitedly. “Because, believe me, me and Masquerain have got some master combinations up on our sleeve. Better stay sharp, because a single moment of letting your guard down can cost your match—and you wouldn’t want that,” he tittered, stretching out his hand to give May a challenging but friendly handshake.

May exclaimed a loud, pure-hearted chuckle—her laugh echoing through the buzzing locker rooms—before returning the handshake, her grip confident and strong. “Back at you! I’ll show you some concentration, Drew,” the brunette grinned. “Just watch.”

May’s hand lingered a bit too long—he practically felt the heat and sweat trickle down his neck before he retreated his hand swiftly but coolly, fighting for his life to keep his grin stable on his lips. He needed some good concentration, all right. He might be poised and confident now, but in the middle of the coordinating action he wasn't sure how much he was able to keep his cool—especially not when, exactly that moment, a reporter's voice boomed through the speakers.

“May from Petalburg city, get ready to get on stage!”

The brunette visibly stiffened before she exhaled sharply, her eyebrows furrowed and cheeks puffed. It was clear that May wasn’t so used to such an overhyped contest. Instinctively Drew felt his mouth open, a cocky retort ready to freshen the mood and set May on sharp again. “You signed up on time for once…I’m surprised.”

His comment helped, because May straightened almost instantly, her fists balling and her eyes more confident and insistent than before. “I’m focused on contests plenty, thank you,” she fired back, her muscles technically vibrating by now. Drew could only shoot her an amused look though, so the pink-clad coordinator let out a huff before she took a sharp turn to the exit door in response—but not before smiling confidently behind her shoulder. “...And I’ll be showing you. Just watch.”

Drew stuck out a salute in response, his hand almost shaking. He pretended it wasn’t.

The moment May stepped on stage, Drew just knew there wasn’t a single other place where she’d shine brighter. The slight make-up dusted on May’s cheeks almost glowed in the casting glow of the spotlights, and he practically felt entranced by the way her dress sparkled as brightly as her spirit did, and her eyes were as outstanding and brilliant as a diamond in the raw; she was meant to be on stage—to perform, to laugh, to bond with her Pokémon, and to inspire young and rookie coordinators. She couldn’t belong elsewhere, and that thought alone made a feeling of pride and care swell up in his chest that he’d never dare to admit or speak of aloud.

“Alright, Skitty, take the stage!” May chirped, her voice echoing through the arena like a beacon of hope and light, her dress dancing as she twirled around and tossed the Pokéball into the air. Within a flash of red Skitty had appeared mid-air, making a roll until it landed down on its little feet, crying out happily—Skitty even wore a little pink ribbon that matched perfectly with Mays’s dress.

May outstretched her hand toward the audience, her smile bright and her confidence more stable and powerful than Drew had ever seen of her before. “Skitty, start with Assist, let’s go!”

Drew practically stumbled from the wall he was leaning against upon that order. Assist. It had been a move May had used in the past, some scoring her victories at the end of the moment when it almost seemed impossible—but it mostly had hindered her. He’d remembered how Harley had fooled her into using Assist over and over, with the result of Bulbasaur’s Petal Dance throwing off Skitty’s rhythm that already had been disturbed by an unexpected Solarbeam from munchlax—she’d made a fatal mistake for trusting Harley over her faith and care for her Pokémon, and it had hit her square foot in the chest. If it hadn’t been for Skitty’s finish with Blizzard, it would’ve cost her a grand festival.

But May was no longer like that. She had faith in her Pokémon, moved with more confidence than she’d ever had, and she didn’t rely on the advice or words from others—she’d found her own style throughout her travels through Johto and beyond. As much as Drew wanted to cross his arms, scoff, and mentally curse at May for even daring to exclaim that move, part of him knew she knew what she was doing.

And that intuition of him was right.

Skitty unleashed a beautiful but terrifyingly powerful Silver Wind—from Beautifly, he noted without an ounce of hesitation; he knew no other Pokémon could pull off such a Silver Wind—as the sparkly wind rushed up to the roof of the stadium, Skitty’s tail twirling along. The current of wind was sure to have a huge impact; it swallowed almost the entire stage, and Drew had to bite his lip slightly as May’s skirt heaved a bit too high because of the howling gusts than he’d liked. But despite that, May remained poised. Her eyebrows were furrowed tightly in determination, and that moment he just knew there wasn’t going wrong.

“We’ll work with that,” May smiled. “Skitty, Blizzard! Freeze that wind!” The brunette exclaimed the words with more faith and trust than she ever could’ve mustered with Harley’s advice and relentless fake-praising. There was no waver in her voice.

Skitty shot into the sky, unleashing a powerful Blizzard that, within seconds, had frozen the silver particles of the Silver wind into a beautiful rain of soft snow, glistering beautifully in the headlights of the stage. Colors of red, yellow, green and blue as far as the eye could see—the stadium was practically glowing with colors and glimmers, and even for a moment Drew felt his chest tighten in mere amazement, the breath that he’d been holding passing his teeth without him even noticing.

May’s act wasn’t done, though—May took a sprint toward the middle of the stage, right beneath where Skitty was. As the snow rained down on May, Skitty descended down from the snowy air before landing in her arms, not a single move without precision and elegance.  The audience could only stare in awe, mouths hanging open, as May wrapped her arms tightly around the small cat Pokémon. Shimmering snow crystals and the fading remnants of Silver Wind drifted softly around the pair, settling like a final curtain of beauty. With one last flourish, May lifted her free hand toward the sky, her eyes shining brightly.

“Done!”

The crowd roared and cried with enthusiasm and awe, and May basked in the light of the praise as her smile erupted into one of the brightest he’d ever seen of her, Skitty’s tail happily wagging. But despite that, the praise from the crowd wouldn’t ever come as close to the rush of awe, pride and amazement that seeped into his chest—instinctively Drew clenched the insides of his pockets, his heart beating like he’d never seen anything more beautiful; May had shown that even with the riskiest of moves and strategies, one can pull it off, as long as they have faith in their Pokémon. May had shown she’d moved on from the Hoenn Grand Festival, grown, and learned her lesson. She didn’t need praise. She needed faith in her Pokémon—and the way she’d pulled off that combination so flawlessly, made him know without a single ounce of doubt that she did.

“Oh, May,” He breathed, barely able to hear himself over the loud beating of his heart.

With a perfect score from all judges May was sure to make her way to the preliminary rounds; she might’ve been good, so much that she even had him at a loss for words, which didn’t occur often—but that didn’t mean by a long shot that he wasn’t going for the victory. With his muscles buzzing with determination and excitement he pushed himself off of the wall, Masquerain’s wings flapping beside him. “Let’s give them a show, Masquerain,” he told his partner, “We’re not letting May get ahead so easily.”

Masquerain happily chirped beside him, wings beating as it hovered around his head, clearly thrilled to perform. Masquerain had always harbored a deep sense of respect for May’s Beautifly—he’d trained him specifically to be set up against her super strong Silver Wind, but despite Masquerain’s precise and beautiful Silver Wind attacks his respect never wavered, and he always seemed to be up for the challenge to improve and try another shot at winning. It almost reminded him of the way May motivated him to work harder—like Pokémon like trainer they say, after all.

The moment May’s performance had come to an end and she’d stepped through the doors from the arena, Drew’s confidence dropped and his heart rate heightened more than he’d ever like to admit. He observed with tight, clammy palms as May sauntered into the locker room out of breath, Skitty still in her arms.

“Risky move, Maple,” Drew exclaimed coolly, fighting down the nervousness in his lungs as he remained leaning against the wall. “But you pulled it off—it was pretty impressive.”

May’s head shot up like a startled Deerling, Skitty squirming in her arms as she slightly shook in startlement. But not for long, though, as her scowl quickly contorted back into a half smug half exasperated look, her eyebrows tightening. “I told you I had some tricks up my sleeve. It might’ve been risky, sure, but I had faith in my Skitty! And it worked better than I ever could’ve planned; the judges and crowd were enamoured!”

“They weren’t the only ones,” he admitted, softly—his voice gradually lowering as he went on—as Masquerain landed on his head. “All the coordinators back here were in awe, including me. How did you know exactly what to do with that Silver Wind?”

May’s cheeks reddened, and hastily she turned her head aside, her eyes shying away from him toward the side as if the walls of the locker rooms were suddenly utterly captivating. “I just…improvised. I think it’s a good quality for a coordinator to have—to deal with unexpected attacks or moves. To…learn, move along with it, and make it your own, you know? I wanted to show the beauty of my Pokémon while also showing the charm of Skitty,” she explained, Skitty purring in her arms.

Drew couldn’t fight himself as a smile crept upon his lips. “Smart,” he exclaimed, crossing his arms. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

The noise of all the coordinators faded into the background as the two talked, Drew’s gaze not a moment shying away from her. He didn’t know what this feeling was, or what it meant, but the mere sight of seeing May improve and seeing her come so far made him feel warm. He felt Butterfrees dancing in his stomach, and he felt his heart beat just a little faster as May held Skitty a little closer, her smile as contagious as one could get. She was a wonderful girl—and now, more than ever, he was glad to be her friend and rival.

The rest of the appeals quickly followed. From impressive combinations from a Grumbull all the way to more cheesy and amateur acts from baby Pokémon—Slateport city’s contest was full with lots of different trainers, ranging from pros to rookies. Drew was almost impressed on how such a contest could pull trainers all the way from faraway regions like Kalos, Sinnoh and Johto; he’d never seen such difference in trainers within a contest before, and for a second it made him feel unsure of what more that was to come.

Masquerain, naturally, pulled off a beautiful combination of Energy Ball and Air cutter, resulting in a perfect score from the judges—and despite the overly dramatic effects and lighting Fantina was a fan of, she seemed rather intrigued by his style, taking him by surprise. He couldn’t be mad, though; Masquerain and him were sure to make it to the preliminary rounds, even despite the huge mass of competition he had ahead of him.

The battle rounds had arrived now—after a short break—as the first pairs got matched. Drew leaned lazily against the walls he’d been clinging to since the start of the contest, barely batting an eye as he got matched up against a trainer who had a Staravia. It clearly was a trainer from Sinnoh, as they seemed completely natural in the light of super contests, and with his Staravia that was able to deal some pretty hard knocks and punches Drew knew he couldn’t let his guard down just yet.

His eyes flashed around the room as the first battle commenced. Most coordinators were looking up at the monitor with tight, determined eyes, but Drew paused when he noticed his soon to be opponent, Theo—the boy with the Staravia—anxiously tapping his feet against the floor, his shoulders perched up straight and stiffly as if he was fighting the nerves with his life. But the boy was perfectly relaxed before, even prior to the appeal rounds, so what was it that made him suddenly look like he was about to burst? Drew wanted to scoff, turn his head around and not care, but the moment he noticed Theo’s gaze shift over to May pep-talking her Glaceon, the alarms in his head shot off like a siren.

Theo’s Staravia was perched upon his shoulder, wings folded and eyes sharp and judgemental, as if it was personally dealing with second-hand embarrassment at seeing its trainer merely look at May with puppydog eyes.

After a moment of no movement—and Drew trying not to personally run out and leave the room—Theo made a bold step forward, calling out to May with the most unsure, nervous voice Drew had ever heard the entirety of his life, Staravia still perfectly stagnant on his wobbling shoulders. “E–Excuse me, May?”

“Oh?” May squeaked, flipping around, her skirt flowing along as she did so, her eyes widening in mere surprise upon being called to so suddenly. Glaceon curiously tilted her head to the side in sync, her bangs drooping down like icicles. “Yes, hi,” May murmured, pulling herself up from her feet. “Do you need anything?”

Theo shifted from one foot to another, his gaze shying off to the side of the locker rooms where he previously was. He didn’t speak for a second—his lips unconsciously closed and opened a few times before he finally managed to speak, Staravia sighing on his shoulder. “You’re… May Maple, from Petalburg, right? You’re… you’re really well known where I live—Pastoria City—and I’ve always really admired you and your performances,” he admitted, fiddling with the hem of his jacket, although he barely seemed to notice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. You were awesome out there with Skitty; I’ve never seen such a beautiful blizzard attack before.”

Drew clenched his teeth as May lashed up her arm to scratch her neck, her red, dusted, puffy cheeks nearly making it impossible for Drew to tell if it was the make-up or blushing or not. May murmured a thank you, but all Drew could hear was the beating of his heart in his throat, and the raging of thoughts and feelings through his head. He didn’t know what to think—part of him wanted to interrupt the conversation, but Theo was merely saying hi and giving a compliment. May has had fans for a while already, it wasn’t any different from the way it was before—but despite that a feeling surging in his stomach told him that he wasn’t just the average fan, and it unnerved him a little.

Drew only watched as the two conversed. May scratched her neck in abashment while Theo continued throwing comments her way of how she’d been his inspiration to start coordinating before he went over to tell more about his past, and why he’d gone to Hoenn just for a Pokémon contest. His heart ached as he watched the two talk, but deep inside Drew knew he’d have the chance to put his frustration in his battle against Theo—he’d learned the hard way that snapping when he didn’t have the right only made things harder.

He didn’t want to seem that way in May’s eyes. Not again.

Instead Drew pulled himself up, pressed his hands behind his back and loosely stretched, his muscles nearly aching from the pressure of his inner-storm that was rumbling. He was going to remain cool and collected—since if a trainer was nervous or distracted, their Pokémon would be, too—and he wasn’t going to lose. He was determined to battle May personally and win that Slateport ribbon, with nobody else in his way.

The monitor buzzed, signaling the first match had ended. The victor was a girl with a sly and powerful Mawile, but Drew could hardly feel bothered whatsoever—he was aching to get up on stage to battle. He had some negative energy to get rid of, anyway.

“Drew Hayden and Theo Audicot, please get to the main stage!”

May stiffened as the two names were called, and for a moment her gaze bounced from Theo to Drew all the way back to Theo, as if she wasn’t sure who to root for. Her head sunk and her eyes narrowed slightly, as if she was deep in thought contemplating it. “Good luck, both of you,” she hummed after a moment, Glaceon purring by her feet.

Drew shot Theo a look that could’ve said more than any word: “I’ll beat you.”

The once-lively crowd fell into a heavy, breathless silence as Theo and Drew took their places on opposite ends of the battlefield. Each trainer stood poised, Pokéball clenched tightly in hand, eyes narrowed with focus and resolve. The air between them seemed to hum with anticipation—this was no casual battle, but a match both were fully determined to win.

“Our second battle on the main stage features Drew from Larousse City facing off against Theo from Pastoria City!” Vivian announced brightly into the microphone, her voice echoing as she bounced energetically across the stage. “Trainers, are you ready?”

She paused just long enough for the suspense to peak.

“And… begin!”

“Flygon, let’s go!” Drew roared, extending his arm and tossing the Pokéball into the air. Through a flash of red Flygon emerged, high and mighty, the batting of its wings almost sounding like beautiful singing as it descended to the ground, claws sharpened and ready.

“Alright, Vespiquen, your turn!” Theo called, throwing the Pokéball ahead with artistic precision, his Pokéball seal exploding into a bunch of colors of yellow, orange and red. Vespiquen hovered over in the sky, its large, hive like body emitting a sweet scent that almost made Drew lose his focus.

Theo immediately took the first move, thrusting his hand forward. “Vespiquen, Attack order!”

Vespiquen cried out, and almost immediately a swarm of its underlings sped toward Flygon at full speed, buzzing. Drew had heard about Vespiquen’s signature attacks that no other Pokémon had—he’d have to watch out, because as much as he’d heard he couldn’t underestimate anything.

“Flygon, Dual Wingbeat!” Drew ordered, his call echoing through the stadium like a warcry. The desert spirit Pokémon complied—launching itself further up into the air as its wings hammered the air—before it approached the attack order with no hesitation. With a slight spin through the air Flygon lashed its wings twice at the oncoming attack, dissolving the underlings with ease, before diving at Vespiquen straight-on, eyes wide.  “Dragon Claw!”

Flygon swept its claws toward Vespiquen, but not without a counter from Theo.

“Defender order, quick!” the boy called out, hands trembling.

Vespiquen summoned more of its underlings once again, but this time the massive group of servants formed a massive bee-hive like shield, glimmering in the spotlights that hung above the stage. Flygon went on, but the Dragon Claw only seemed to do so little—Vespiquen remained up in the air, buzzing proudly.

Drew racked his brain. Attacks were hard to land, especially with Vespiquen's formidable Attack and Defend order attacks—he needed a strong attack that he could use head-on, without being interrupted. Flygon recently had learned of a terrifyingly strong Earthquake attack, but that wouldn’t do a thing if Vespiquen was hovering in the air.

He had to somehow get Vespiquen down to the ground.

“Flygon, up in the air!” Drew commanded as Theo ordered Vespiquen to use Attack Order again. Vespiquen summoned another wave of servants, and Flygon shot up into the sky with the speed of a Skarmory, sand trailing behind it as it hovered over the battlefield. Drew needed to think, and fast.

The underlings were sure to follow him—maybe he could use that to his advantage.

“Flygon, don’t feel threatened by the underlings! Head over at Vespiquen at full speed, and use Dual Wingbeat—knock that thing to the ground!” Drew exclaimed up into the air. Flygon nodded before taking a steep turn and dive toward Vespiquen, wings ready to deal a nasty blow or two.

Theo visibly cringed, and his legs trembled as he thrust an arm forward, panic seeping into his voice like there was no saving. “Vespiquen, defend order, quick!” he called, but to no avail—the rhythm and timing between the bee Pokémon and trainer was off, and Flygon’s wings met Vespiquen head-on because of it, the mere impact already blowing the Pokémon into the ground.

“Vespiquen!” Theo cried.

Vespiquen chirped weakly, its wings drooping onto the floor, damaged and curled.

Drew smirked. “Alright, Flygon, let’s put it in its place! Stone Edge, full power!”

Flygon roared, and a wall of sharp stones and rocks rose from the ground, surrounding Vespiquen perfectly so that it wasn’t able to move—and with its damaged wings, it couldn’t resort to flying to avoid any attacks, either. Vespiquen struggled, moving slightly but tiredly as Theo spoke to it in a panic, his voice wavering with concern.

“Let’s finish it,” Drew concluded, pushing his hands into his pockets. “...Earthquake.”

The ground stumbled and rumbled, and before anyone could blink the ground beneath Vespiquen had started crumbling. Vespiquen cried out as it got swallowed by the sand and rocks—only once the sandstorm and dust had cleared Vespiquen could be declared knocked out.

“With a sharp but quick finish Flygon finishes Vespiquen's last attempt at an defend order,” Vivian called out excitedly, her voice booming through the microphone. “Vespiquen is down—Flygon wins! Drew continues to the next round!”

Theo sank down on his knees beside Vespiquen, comfortingly stroking a hand over the Pokémon's wings, mutteringly softly. “You did amazingly, Vespiquen,” Theo whispered before pulling out his Pokéball. “—Return.”

With a flick of his hair Drew congratulated and praised Flygon before summoning it back into its pokéball, his gaze instinctively shifting over to Theo. His Vespiquen was a tough opponent—the switches from Attack and Defend order made it hard to find an opening to attack, but in the end Theo’s trust and determination that wavered cost him the match. And inconsistency in trust wasn’t something optimal during contests.

Drew emitted a huff before he turned back toward the exit. 

Theo had fled from the contest stage with the mood of a Sobble, Pokéball clenched in his hand and all. To Drew it was clear Theo didn’t happen to be a very experienced coordinator, as the loss seemed to hit the guy rather hard—or it was the fact he failed to show off in front of May—that he couldn’t tell.

May herself breezed through her first battle round easily with Glaceon at her side, its Ice Beam pulling a pretty hard punch on the opponent’s Tropius. Her Glaceon had grown more elegant and strong ever since it had evolved in Sinnoh, and Drew had seen how the coordination between her and May grew, also—what started as a close but shaky loss at the Wallace cup contorted into a deeper sense of trust and bond, and Glaceon had learned to adapt to its new ice typing as well.

May stepped through the doors from the arena with a drop of sweat trickling down her face, while Glaceon coolly sauntered beside her. Drew almost felt a little concerned about how serious May was taking the contest—not just because she wanted to win that ribbon, but because she didn’t want to let Belle and her work down; that much Drew could tell.

“Not bad, May,” Drew grinned, pushing himself off of the lockers.. “Glaceon’s Ice Beam is getting stronger.”

The brunette paused before she softened, her shoulders loosening as if only then she realized she’d won her first battle and it was over. A small smile crept upon her lips, eyes shifting toward him. “Thanks, Drew,” she hummed. “We’ve been working hard. Haven’t we, Glaceon?” May asked, and Glaceon purred beside her, pushing herself into a quick stretch.

“We have,” May giggled cheerfully, giving her head a playful nudge to the side, flexing her teeth into a grin. Then, as if the battle had shaken more than May’s nerves, the ribbon around her tiny ponytail loosened and slipped free. It fluttered around for a second before it landed at her feet, the pink and sparkly fabric curling and twisting against the ground in a quiet but stark contrast to the distant chatter ahead in the locker room.

May blinked, and then looked down, her eyes widening in surprise. “Uh—Oops,” she murmured, crouching down quickly to pick it up. With a huff she brushed a bit of dust off of the ribbon and straightened it before trying to re-tie it with her trembling fingers that had still been a little unsteady because of the prior battle. She curled it around her tail once, twice, but it still remained loose, sliding down her hair no matter how she tried to adjust it.

May huffed in frustration, her cheeks puffed up. “C’mon, why won’t you stay?”

Drew watched from beside her for a moment, eyelids lowered and arms crossed in a lack of amusement, his lips curled downward in a frown before he fought up a smile. “You’re tying it too tight on one side, May,” he commented, pointing at her hands loosely with a finger. “If you do it like that it’ll keep slipping.”

The brunette looked up at him, her cheeks faintly warming as she continued fiddling with the piece of fabric. “I can fix it,” she insisted, not giving up trying to tie the ribbon back securely—before it fell loose yet again, much to May’s utter embarrassment. She paused, looking down at the ribbon that had fallen to the ground with red cheeks and scrunched up eyes. “Um…”

“Clearly,” Drew scoffed with a smirk, raising an eyebrow.

She sighed, arms dropping in defeat just a little. “...Okay, fine. You can help—but just this once,” May concluded, picking up the ribbon from the ground before shoving it into his hands, her gaze shying away like she’d done plenty of humiliating herself by simply trying.

He stepped closer, careful not to startle her, ribbon clasped in his hand. “Hold still, and don’t move,” he said gently, curling the ribbon around his finger. May instantly froze without either her or him realizing it, suddenly very aware of how close Drew got. She could almost feel the warmth of Drew’s presence over her shoulder, the faint brush of his sleeve against her bare arm making her shiver, although she didn’t mean to. May blinked—trying to straighten—before she weakened again as Drew’s chest nearly touched hers.

Drew gathered her hair carefully—but aware enough to notice how soft her hair was, and how it almost smelled like strawberry—his fingers surprisingly light despite his nervousness as he re-tied the ribbon around her hair, smoothing a few loose strands back into place. His knuckles brushed May’s cheek just for a split second, and both him and May’s breaths caught almost simultaneously, the silence between the two suddenly louder than the noise further down the locker rooms. Both couldn’t speak—for a moment the presence of each other was heavier than before, and Drew nearly bit his lip as he realized how close he was.

Her eyes…they were a deep sapphire. He’d known that much, but the closer he got the more small details he noticed, like how at the ring of her iris there were some streaks of green. He’d never noticed those details. Not once.

He could barely control himself as his gaze traveled down her lips, and that moment the heat rushed to his face like a Camerupt ready to use overheat. What in the name of Arceus was he doing? How did he dare to get so close? Why couldn’t he stop himself from getting closer? Why could he practically smell the scent of her lipgloss now? He hated how he was barely able to keep his feelings intact, but at the same time his blood rushed with the desire to be closer.

May didn’t move. She barely even seemed to breathe.

Drew noticed it immediately; the way her shoulders had gone still, the way her fingers curled slightly at her sides as if she didn’t trust them not to tremble. Her gaze hesitantly moved up to him as though she knew what was coming—her lashes fluttered once, twice, slowly, and Drew caught himself watching in awe the way the light above them caught against them, and how it cast the faintest shadow beneath her eyelids. He’d never been so close to her before. Not like this.

Without realizing, he leaned in.

 It was just a mere fraction at first. Enough to notice the warmth radiating from her, the way her breath brushed against his chin when he exhaled. Her lips parted, ever so slightly, but enough to let Drew’s gaze dwindle down again despite himself, noticing the subtle curve of her lips as she breathed and the barely there shine of her lip gloss that nearly seemed to glow now. Then he even noticed the smallest freckle near the corner of her mouth, something he was certain he hadn’t noticed ever before.

His hands slipped free from the ribbon, instead slowly traveling to the back of her head, his fingers gently pressed against her brunette curls.

He only leaned closer.

Drew swallowed, his heart pounding so hard that he was certainly sure that May was able to hear it by now. Every rational and reasonable thought in his head had blurred into a flurry of incoherent thoughts in embarrassment and awe, drowned out by the sudden overwhelming awareness of how close he was getting—how easy it would be to close the distance entirely. Why couldn’t he move?

May’s chin tilted upward, hesitantly and shakily, as if she wasn’t meaning to, her body betraying her as she leaned in subtly toward him, her eyes not once breaking away from his. Her sapphire eyes were still brilliantly caught inside the light, the light rim of green around her iris glowing like an emerald did, holding him rooted in his spot tighter than any leech seed could. Drew nearly felt his heart shoot into his throat as May’s chest brushed his now—and he froze—his breath shallow, his mind and body torn between stopping and not moving at all.

He leaned in further; unconsciously, helplessly.

He could feel the warmth of her breath brush against his lips, sensing the tension in her was as clear as his was. His thoughts scattered completely. What in the name of Arceus was he doing? How had he let himself get this far? Why did it feel impossible to pull away?

Then, without warning, the speakers—that were conventionally exactly right above them—rang out with more urgency and noise than either of them had expected, snapping Drew from his trance like he’d finally gotten a save of grace. With a shake of a startle Drew slightly bounced backward, the bangs of his hair nearly prickling into his eyes.

“...Th-that should stay,” he spluttered, pulling his hands back hastily.

May didn’t respond right away.

She stood there for a moment, eyes slightly widened, not quite meeting his gaze. Then she shifted her weight, shoulders drawing in as she slowly tucked her hands behind her back, fingers lacing together like she didn’t know where else to put them. Her head turned just a little to the side, avoiding him, and her smile—if it could even be called that—was small and uneven, more nervous than anything.

Her cheeks were unbearably warm.

“U–um…” she started, then hesitated, swallowing softly. “Th-thank you,” she murmured at last, her voice quiet and breathy, barely above a whisper.

Drew felt stupid. He felt foolish. He could practically feel the beating of his heart hammer right into his throat, and only then for a moment he considered straight up running out and leaving. Why did he get so close? They were in the middle of a contest, and Drew couldn’t afford distraction! He couldn’t afford to feel weak in the knees at the mere look at May, let alone remember the moment when he was so close to her he nearly kissed her! Desperately trying to keep a straight face as he angrily bit his tongue he shoved his hands into his pockets, trembling. He shouldn’t do that again—not in the middle of a locker room during a contest.

The scent of her lipstick lingered like the sweet fragrance of roses, and the soft breathing of May still seemed to brush his neck, even when she was long a distance away from him, shyly tugging at the hem of her skirt with red cheeks.

Curse Mesprit. Curse Mesprit for allowing him to feel emotions.

The noise in the background of the lockers raged on, two coordinators that had been matched up rushing to the doors with clenched fists—but Drew could only breathe in and out as he took in every second he’d spent so close, and that alone felt more gruesome and challenging than any Pokémon battle could be.

Battling May soon was going to be a challenge, all right.

The roar of the crowd swelled them as the two of them took their places on opposites of the field, the major Pokéball logo in the middle distancing them like a thick, unbreakable wall of tension. Bright stadium lights  reflected off the polished stone and glass, but May barely had attention to notice them. Her attention was straight on ahead—right at Drew.

Drew stood as he always did; tall, composed, poised, and his arms loosely folded at his sides—yet something about him felt oddly different now. His posture was a fraction too stiff, his gaze lingered on her just a second longer than necessary before snapping away toward the side. May’s heart fluttered unhelpfully at the thought, and she had to force herself to look straight forward again.

Focus, May, she told herself as she curled her fingers tightly around Glaceon's Pokéball. She wasn’t going to let an embarrassing mishap let her stumble off of her path. She was going full out, because she knew Drew didn’t deserve or expect any less of her.

Drew could only fumble and straighten himself the moment May had stepped onto her place. He couldn’t help himself as the memory of her lips nearing his flooded his mind, and his gaze accidentally lingering on May for a moment too long didn’t help. With a tighten of his jaw and a Focus, Drew, in his thoughts he shook off the aching in his heart, holding onto Flygon’s ball like a lifeline.

“Coordinators, ready!” Vivian announced, whooshing her arms into the air.

“Glaceon, the spotlight’s on you!” May called out, her voice steady, bright and cheerful despite the nerves gnawing at her stomach.

Glaceon gracefully landed down on the field on four paws, her icy breath fogging the air as frost spread beneath her paws like a web. The crowd murmured appreciatively of the beautiful entrance, but Drew could only inhale once, sharply. May was looking incredibly sharp, even after that moment before—and her Glaceon seemed just as relaxed.

“Flygon,” Drew concluded flatly, tossing the pokéball into the air with ease despite his fingers trembling. 

Flygon burst forth in a rush of wind and sand, the Pokéball seal exploding into colors of purple and green. It stretched its wings wide as it let out a roaring cry before descending down to the ground with a huge thump. Normally Drew would’ve felt that familiar surge of confidence, but now his thoughts only could betray him, flickering back and forth to shy smiles and lingering aroma, to warmth where there shouldn’t have been warmth in the first place.

Vivian raised her microphone.

“Flygon, Dual Wingbeat!” Drew ordered, snapping himself back into the moment as he thrust his arm upward.

Flygon sped forward, wings striking twice without fail. May’s pulse jumped, but she didn’t freeze. Instead she balled her hands into fists, eyes tightening. “Glaceon, Ice beam, quick!” she commanded smoothly, and Glaceon braced itself by lowering itself on its front paws. A brilliant beam of ice followed and cut through the air with no problem, colliding with Flygon mid-air—frost crawled over its wings instantly like a disease, slowing down his speed considerably. It landed down on the ground, claws scraping horribly loudly as it descended.

Drew frowned, his teeth flexed. Too reckless.

“Earthquake, Flygon, let’s go!” Drew called.

Flygon slammed its humungous tail into the ground, and the arena shuddered violently; cracks split the floor beneath Glaceon’s feet, tossing her backward. May stumbled but caught herself, holding herself grounded despite the shaking of the ground. 

“Glaceon, Wish!”

A warm, shimmering light emerged above Glaceon, glowing softly against the cold like fire in a freezing cave. Glaceon’s shoulders loosened in relaxation as she took in the warmth of the light. Drew only noticed it too late.

“Tch–Flygon, Stone edge, quick!” Drew roared, his chest suddenly heaving with frustration and anxiety.

Stones erupted from the ground, each tearing toward Glaceon. One effectively knocked her in the side, knocking her down with a sharp cry that made May visibly stiffen and curse under her breath—but before the panic could take hold of her the wish glowed brighter, basking Glaceon in an almost protective veil of stars and shimmers. Within seconds it rose from her sides, fur bristling and sparkling like she had been given new life.

Drew exhaled through his clenched teeth. She’s reading me. Since when?

“Dragon Claw!”

Flygon lunged forward, its claws glowing with energy as it sped across the field, sandstorms brewing beneath it. For a split second, Drew thought he had it—with Glaceon in place because of Wish, and the sandstorms raging—thought that he’d gotten the advantage again.

“Alluring voice, Glaceon!” May countered with no hesitation.

Glaceon’s cry rang out through the stadium, clear and melodic, and the crowd rose from their seats in awe, watching with wide eyes. Flygon froze instantly, its arms curling in unease as the song echoed through the arena.

Flygon was vulnerable. That was all that May needed.

“Ice Beam, go!” May roared, thrusting her hand forward tightly. Glaceon reacted instantly, the blast of ice rushing toward Flygon like the speed of light before hitting it head on in the chest, knocking Flygon down to the floor with trembling wings. The remnants of the ice and snow dwindled through the air, only sparkling bright as the Wish that was slowly fading away hung above the stadium.

“Flygon,” he muttered defeatedly under his breath, fists clenched at his sides.

“That’s it, folks!” Vivian roared, nearly punching a hole in the air. “Flygon’s down—May and her Glaceon win! Which means the winner of our beautiful annual Slateport City contest is the one and only May Maple from Petalburg City! Give it up for our winner!”

The stadium erupted with cheers and shrills of excitement, and May remained rooted to the spot, dazzled to the core. Her eyes were slightly widened, as though unsure, until the moment Glaceon proudly marched up to her feet, chirping happily. The brunette grinned widely like sunshine was finally leaking through, and she lunched downward and took the fresh snow Pokémon into her arms, letting out a squeal. “Glaceon, we did it! We beat Drew!”

From across the field, Drew stood numbly, his eyes softening as Flygon lay pained on the ground, its wings dusted with frost. With a slow tug at his heart he reached for his Pokéball again and returned the dragon; he’d have to bring him to the Pokémon center as soon as possible.

Despite the loss, part of Drew felt…at ease. Relaxed, like heavy weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He might have lost—even though it was due to his lack of concentration and faith in himself—he felt a soft feel of relief seep into his heart after battling everything out. He had been distracted, frustrated, and confused—about everything he felt for May and what he’d displayed in the open during the contest— and now after settling the score at last and throwing every last remaining bit of frustration into every attack made him feel lighter. He didn’t think any loss of his before had felt so freeing.

With a content sigh and a mutter of “Well done, Flygon,” he perched the Pokéball back on his belt before looking up. He’d have to face her one way or another, either way.

May noticed almost instantly. Their eyes met; May’s were tentative, bright, but had a lingering bit of adrenaline flash through, while Drew’s eyes slowly softened as he watched her embrace her happy and content Glaceon. He could barely stop himself as a small smile appeared on his lips.

“That was a good battle, May,” he admitted, his voice shaky but sincere.

May’s smile exploded even further, and that moment it seemed like she held Glaceon just a little tighter. “Y–yeah, it was!” She chirped happily, her cheeks flaring warm and red like she’d never been happier.

As May turned to leave the field, her fingers curled around her hair and brushed the ribbon in her hair merely out of habit, and Drew could only watch, the warmth brewing in his stomach merely a fraction of all the things he’d felt that day.

Battling her was tough—but battling his own thoughts had been even worse.

And next time, he promised himself, he’d let those thoughts pass.

Contest first, feelings second.

As soon as May was declared winner and the stage had been cleared she was at last allowed to claim the prestigious Slateport ribbon, and she received one of the loudest applause she’d ever met. Seeing so many people from all around the world—Johto, Kanto, Sinnoh and Kalos—cheer for her meant more than she ever was able to explain.

The Slateport ribbon reminded of her first ever contest—where she’d met Drew, and found her biggest inspiration and goal yet. In a way, Slateport had become a beacon of hope and light for May, and coming back to it was always a nice, refreshing breeze, even if her start was a little rough. It made her cherish the ribbon all the more, and so she delicately placed it in her ribbon case as if it were glass. It was a trinket of all the things she did and what she went through, and the soft smile of Drew at the end of their match warmed her heart even further.

The nice March air was a stark contrast to the tightness and lack of space in the contest halls. Most of the audience had left, while only a few were sticking around to hopefully get a glimpse of their favorite coordinator, and even maybe to get a personal talk with them. May stretched loosely in the relaxing night breeze, her shirt gently moving along.

“That fresh breeze sure is nice,” May hummed, watching as the stars gently shone above her. “Don’t you think so, Drew?”

Drew made a move to step beside her, hands tucked into his pockets and eyes closed before they too fluttered open, his gaze dwindling up toward the star-filled sky. “It’s a nice change from the warm and utterly tight space where everyone’s after you for your autographs while breathing down your neck for sure,” he whizzed, his chartreuse hair moving in the breeze.

May scoffed, laughing lightly. “Of course that’s the only thing you’re concerned about.”

Drew laughed and pulled his hand out of his pocket to flick his front bangs, the smirk on his lips not wavering in the slightest. “Can you blame me? It’s not exactly fun getting run over by paparazzi—and like this you can really enjoy the moment and the contest.” 

The red-clad brunette laughed softly, her giggle disappearing into the wind. May felt relieved seeing Drew relaxed again; after he came so close he seemed distracted, and hanging on by a slight margin—his timing with Flygon was off, he seemed distant, and most of all, he wasn’t himself. May too was greatly embarrassed, so much that she got Butterfrees in the stomach at the mere thinking of the situation, but she wasn’t willing to let it cost her the match. She promised she’d give it her all, and that wouldn’t change.

She hadn’t realized she’d been staring, lost in his smile.

“What, do I have something on my face?” Drew commented, snapping her from her thoughts. His eyebrows were furrowed tightly, but to her utter amusement Drew almost looked a little embarrassed genuinely thinking he had something on him nobody pointed out.

“N–no,” May fumbled, instinctively looking down and her hands reaching for the hem of her skirt. “It’s just nice to see you so relaxed and at ease, you know. I don’t see you smile much—usually after a contest the first thing you do is leave without anyone noticing. But now, you’re…here. Even if it’s just for a little bit.”

Drew’s eyes widened—his gaze dwindling down to her fumbling fingers—before he scoffed lightly, though it sounded more like a laugh. “Keep being so cheesy and I will leave without you noticing,” he grumbled, but betrayed by the light tug of a smile by his lips. “But…yeah, I don’t do it much, since I don’t like to slack off or let any time go wasted, but it’s nice…just relaxing in the moment for a little.”

May hummed in agreement, her head turning back toward the sky.

Softly inhaling the fresh air she felt more relaxed than she had all day. She’d won the contest, made Belle proud, and got one step further to the Grand Festival. But despite that she felt a rather familiar rush in her stomach, which instinctively made her grab the hem of her shirt again, cheeks reddening. Even though the nerves and weight of it all threatened to crush her, Drew’s presence had held her sharp through the entirety of the day—she thought, if it wasn’t because of him, she might’ve messed up.

“...Drew?” May whispered, turning toward the chartreuse haired boy that had resumed looking at the starlit sky.

“Hmm?” He hummed back, jacket dancing in the wind.

May had to rethink what she wanted to say to him in her head more times than she could count—puzzling word for word, trying to convey just how grateful she was. She almost didn’t realize she’d started stuttering until Drew tilted his head, eyebrows furrowing.

“T-thanks for...uh...well, first for helping me pick out that dress,” May hummed, her gaze shying away from Drew’s as if he was the last thing she could bear looking at. “It was nice having some company—normally I do this all on my own. Second,” she huffed, her chest heaving with the mere pressure and embarrassment of the words she wanted to speak, “Thanks for…you know, cheering me on. I felt quite a bit of pressure since I didn’t want to let Belle down—I promised I’d win, but the idea of that not happening unnerved me. But despite that, your words helped keep me in check…thanks for that.”

After a second May fought her head up to look at him, only to see him looking at her in awe, eyes wide and fingers spread apart like he’d been startled. Only once a distant Taillow chirped away he snapped back to reality, his cheeks slightly red. “...We might be rivals, but it’s important to me you perform the best you can. It’s…it’s when I like to see you best—when you’re you.”

If May said she hadn’t heard more consoling words ever before, she’d be lying.
She smiled softly. "Y-yeah. It’s when I like performing most, too.”

Over the soft breeze of the evening she didn’t hear Drew’s jacket ruffling as his hands reached for hers—and her heartbeat nearly shot into her throat. She had to properly calm down her hammering heart as Drew’s thumb brushed against hers, her breath wavering.

The soft hum of Pokémon up ahead felt like a melody softening throughout the air, and both Drew and May felt more happy and at ease than they’d been the entire day. With hands entwined, and the soft rustling of the grass beneath their feet after one heck of a contest, they finally found the room to breathe.

Only after minutes passed May retrieved her hand from his, her heart almost aching as she slipped from his grasp, the soft tingling on her fingers burning like she was missing his touch already. “Alright,” May hummed, pumping her fists as she made a step forward, “I think it’s about time I get going—after all, I can’t slack off too much,” she exclaimed proudly, before looking back over her shoulder to give Drew a glance, “...Now, can I?”

Drew laughed one of the most genuine laughs he’d laughed in a while before he scraped his throat, eyes tearing in amusement. “Glad you’re finally understanding the assignment,” he tittered, lips vibrating with laughter. “Took you long enough.”

With a standard but gentle wave from Drew May made her way through the city, heart fluttering with so many feelings she didn’t dare to name out loud—at last she felt fulfilled, proud, and happy—feelings that she’d cherish forever.

The moment May had disappeared out of sight Drew let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, the beating of his heart becoming too much of a nuisance to his cool, collected exterior—but at the same time, he almost felt up in the clouds. Despite his frustration, embarrassment and anxiety he’d faced that day, everything ended up alright. He was happy. May was happy. They were happy. His palm still felt warm and tingly, as if May’s touch wouldn’t leave for a while.

“That went well.”

An all too familiar, teasing voice rang out from behind him, and Drew shot around like a startled Thievul caught mid-stealing. He watched with wide eyes as Solidad stood in front of him, as poised and elegant as she always stood—a knowing, teasing smile gracing her lips as she lowered her eyes at him accusingly.

“S–Solidad,” Drew spat, his voice shaking with surprise. In the midst of his daydreams he hadn’t noticed the pink haired coordinator sneaking up behind him—in fact, he had no proper idea of how much she’d seen or heard. “Arceus, you scared me!” He grumbled, his fingers curling into a balled fist. Solidad only chuckled, cupping her hands to her mouth as if showing her laughter of amusement was a crime.

“Oh, I’m seeing,” Solidad hummed cheerfully, an overjoyed laugh escaping her lips.

“...How long have you been standing there watching me?” Drew questioned flatly, furrowing his eyebrows at her accusingly. It was bold of Drew to assume, but he just had a hunch Solidad had been standing there longer than he’d liked; he could sense it at the mere way the woman seemed to sparkle vividly from head to toe like she had never been happier.

Solidad slipped her finger down to her chin, grinning smoothly. “Long enough to see how much of sweethearts you two are,” she sang. The subtle way she leaned forward came off more teasingly than he could handle, and the heat immediately crept up Drew’s neck. She saw everything—from the gentle exchange of her looking at him to him reaching for her hand. He scraped his throat, trying not to let the nerves show. “Solidad—”

“You’re finally making progress, huh?” The woman continued, her smug smile shifting into something more genuine, despite the lingering tone of mockery in her voice.

“S-Solidad,” Drew grumbled, his words lost in the air.

“I’m glad, you know,” She huffed, folding her arms. Drew paused, noticing the subtle but noticeable change in Solidad’s expression—her eyelids dropped significantly, her softening eyes reminding him of how she’d looked at him after his first loss—and a light, content sigh escaped her lips, dwindling through the wind like a distant melody. “It’s been so long since I’ve heard you laugh like that.”

Drew clenched the insides of his pockets. Of course that was what was on Solidad’s mind; she’d always gone on and on about how he had to be more raw and honest, and that he was allowed to act like a teenager, because he was. Ever since he was ten Solidad always repeated that he was too dry and mature, and that he needed to loosen up. And now that she’d heard him share a genuine laugh with May, she was shedding tears like a proud mother watching her newborn speak for the first time.

“..Don’t get used to it,” he replied stiffly.

Solidad hummed cheerfully once again. “I couldn’t, even if I tried—so, Drew. The contest?”

The subject hit harder than he’d liked. He noticed the subtle shift in Solidad’s shoulders, the way they loosened ever so slightly, and how her gaze shifted downward to him, the amusement contorting into something more curious and disappointed. Drew visibly tensed, the tiles of stone beneath his shoes suddenly very captivating. “...Yeah.”

The pink coordinators jacket crunched as her curled arms tightened, her hand squeezing the end of her sleeve. “What happened? You weren’t yourself.” She asked, tone gentle but concerned.

“I was distracted,” Drew answered, quickly—a bit too fast, because Solidad instantly noticed—as he squeezed in the insides of his pockets again. Solidad hummed thoughtfully, unraveling her crossed arms before placing a hand at her waist, eyes searching in his for more answers. “Because of May?”

Drew visibly tensed, and that moment Solidad knew she was right. Exactly what had occurred she couldn’t tell, but she had a hunch it was something relatively major if it managed to distract Drew; he was always poised, relaxed, and even if something was weighing his mind he was always managed to shake it off—contests had always been the bane of his existence, after all, nothing mattered more to him—but the moment he started bringing May up in their conversations she noticed a shift in him.

She noticed how much May had started to mean to him.

“I see,” Solidad murmured, her voice easing into something gentler, almost a coo. She cared about Drew more than she ever said out loud, but she knew better than to press him—especially when his walls were still up. Some things needed time. “You don’t have to tell me now,” she added softly. “But whenever you’re ready…I’ll be here.”

She reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder, careful and reassuring. Drew stiffened at first, then slowly relaxed beneath her touch. He looked up at her, eyes widening slightly, as if he hadn’t expected patience—hadn’t expected understanding without conditions. After a moment, he nodded, a small, grateful smile tugging at his lips. “…Thanks, Sol.”

Silence settled between them, not awkward, just quiet. Solidad let out a contented sigh before extending her hand toward him, palm warm and inviting. “How about we grab some coffee?” She offered gently.

Drew hesitated for only a second before nodding. His smile was still restrained, but there.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “That’d be nice.”