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Two hours.
Blue flies out of Saffron City in two hours.
Red grips on tighter to Charizard, knowing he’s cutting it close. That Blue was neither the type to arrive early enough to wander aimlessly through the airport, nor late enough to sprint to the gate with frantic eyes and crazed hair. He’ll stroll in right on time, packed to the brim with his iron-pressed shirts and Eevee sleep-mask, and when he arrives, he’ll be there.
Not that he’s expected to be.
In fact, he anticipates his presence will be a shock.
Blue hadn’t told him he was leaving.
Neither had he informed Professor Oak, who only yesterday had called Red to yap in a circle about future research plans and the aftereffects of Pokérus before asking if he’d heard from his grandson lately. The only person who’d known was Daisy, her small smile being all the confirmation he needed when he knocked on her door this morning.
Her prodigious brother was living in Viridian City nowadays, but there were signs of shuffling. Scratch-marks on the walls of his enclosure.
Red’s Mom had spied him moving boxes of belongings out of his room. Folded purple cargo pants, paint-faded action figures, and all of his most embarrassing books with Jigglypuff and Slowpoke on the covers. He stacked them one-by-one upon the porch and without a second glance, went back inside. When the coast was clear, Daisy stowed one of his Pidgey plushes under her arm and held her elbows with a faraway look in her eyes.
There was also the gossip surrounding the gym.
Over the years, Blue carved a reputation as a fierce leader whose pep had dulled with boredom. Now, all of a sudden, he had reporters on his doorstep televising his non-response to the question of whether he’d earned a promotion to the Elite Four. The rumours began after a number of visits from Lance preceded the induction of Ethan, a Champion from New Bark Town, whose eyes lit up at shadowing Blue all day.
The most damning evidence of all was his apartment.
Red visited rarely, about as rarely as he appeared to enjoy being a Gym Leader, but when he did, he saw glimpses of another time and place.
In the beginning, Blue boasted about having his own pad away from his grandfather and sister. The reality was a living room that felt unused; decorated by a trophy cabinet his eyes skimmed over, and cluttered by a lone magazine featuring the pearlescent Prism Tower. Something he’d grabbed without thinking off the PokéMart rack, he’d said.
By the next visit, landscapes of boulevards dotted with taxis and scenic portraits of Floette swinging in the breeze had encroached onto the walls.
In time, his Kalosian grew less mocking, rattling more readily off his tongue, even if his accent left much to be desired. Over slurps of his sister’s tea, he bragged about hand-rolling his own croissants, when before he viewed cooking as some type of nuisance. Red noticed the cluster of books he stowed separately from the others, housed in a room that felt less empty with new bursts of colour.
Châteaux: The Complete Guide. Lunch in Lumiose! The Seven Ages of Anistar.
Of course he would leave for Kalos one day.
He just never expected it to hurt like this.
As the evening sprawl of Saffron City creeps into view, it dawns on Red that he hasn’t been the best friend. That he might really screw everything up if he fails him here and now.
Like when Blue’s parents died, and he withdrew, fearful of the way he stopped playing with him. Or when they turned ten, and Blue watched with torn eyes as he got the first pick of Charmander. Or when Blue swallowed his words and faded into nothing as Professor Oak steered him to the Hall of Fame.
A gale shakes Red from his guilt, blowing Charizard to the outskirts of the city.
The airport rips from view.
With a groan, he concedes to the weather and lands in a field, thumping onto the earth below. Charizard earns a pat on the snout before he sprints for the gate. Houndour sniff in his direction, and distant Abra blink away, too close for their own comfort, but he pays them little mind, panting until the city asphalt rushes beneath his feet.
Saffron is clouded with pedestrians at peak hour. Traffic lights flicker in red and green over the roads and sidewalks, and he clenches his fists, raring in the pause, taking flight upon go. He runs through the streets, keeping left, dodging salarymen and cyclists and tourists, and from a bordering alleyway, rips a hire bike from a rack and pushes it as fast as his legs can propel him.
Red speeds out of the maze of skyscrapers and onto the shoulder of a highway, overtaking gridlocked cars and attracting nearby Pidgeotto, who race him into view of the flashing runway.
He can’t afford to let Blue slip away.
Not without saying goodbye.
Not without glimpsing his face one last time.
Even if he laughs, even if he shrugs him aside, he has to try, because the idea of him moving to the opposite end of the world fills him with a nameless sort of dread.
One he has no idea how to paint with his hands or build into words.
Blue stands alone at the gate.
He’s already checked in, but his feet feel stuck to the seamless tile.
It’s cold and stark and already a world away from Pallet Town. Everyone marches through automatic doors that never seem to close. Rushing in, rushing out, suits and heels and briefcases, Alolan shirts brushing against Kantonese business suits. It’ll be the last time he sees home in a long while, and it feels as unremarkable as ever.
He pivots toward the terminal, hand looped around his carry-on suitcase, his other around Eevee’s Pokéball. Until they land, it’ll be his only Pokémon; one of the few permitted on board. He promised it a grand view from the sky along with a parfait of its choice once they stepped out of Gare de Lumiose.
A final text from Daisy hovers on his Rotom screen.
He reads, “I’m so proud of you for taking this trip,” and allows a flicker of a smile, typing back, hoping the space of his room can give her something to fill it with. Maybe a family of her choosing. The one she deserved and never received from him nor Gramps.
He’s thankful to her for guarding his secret.
For the countless times Gramps had forgotten his birthday and ignored him for guest speakers and conference calls, he wasn’t worth the update, much less a farewell. All his life, he’d felt like a distraction. A burden who fought tooth-and-nail to lift himself out of the obligatoriness of their relationship, only to be greeted by the same empty smile Gramps would use on his students.
Leaving Viridian Gym had proved harder than expected. For the bulk of his adolescence, it provided routine and purpose. He poured himself into mending its reputation, relegating his own smouldering one to an afterthought, and as he hastened towards the door, his mind blistered. Lance offered to retain his position should his goal circle back to teaching others.
He wondered about that. Whether Lance saw something in him he didn’t yet recognise.
But by now, his solace was found in the books and pictures stationed around his bed.
He dreamed of new heights.
Of studying abroad, where his name felt more his own. In a timeless city on the cutting edge of research, steered by mentors whose papers gave Gramps a run for his money. Someplace with coastlines and forests of new Pokémon for him to discover. He yearned for dark coffee unlike the Viridian cafés, soaked into croissants fresh off the rack. All while skimming a journal published under his name.
He inhales and takes his first step towards the gate, freezing again as his mind turns to Red.
That’s when he hears it.
Feet rushing in his direction, hard on the tile, fuelled with an immediacy unlike the organised chaos around him.
Red skids to a halt, gaze darting over the signs, soaked in sweat, looking windblown and untamed. The other pedestrians veer around him, disgruntled at his sudden command of the space. Blue’s heart leaps in recognition, his skin going cold before flushing.
“Red?” he shouts.
Red scans the crowd and stops on his eyes, choking in the millisecond they meet, and Blue reels in his shock like his dignity depends on it. He runs over, and the sweat and dirt stuck to his body becomes much more apparent. It looks like he’s rolled in the gutter.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
He glares back at Blue accusatorily, mouth flat, swallowing breaths through his nose.
You were leaving. You were hopping on that plane without saying goodbye.
Blue’s mouth hangs open before he quips, “I’m surprised to see you, that’s all.”
Me too, Red aches, exasperated by his own lateness.
He steals a moment to calm the stitch in his stomach and slow his breathing back to normal, and Blue has no choice but to watch, blinking through the war of emotions roiling inside of him. There’s no suitcase at Red’s side, no coincidence roping him here, forcing him to accept that he’s come to the airport for one reason alone.
“Guess Daisy spilled.”
Red clamps down a scoff. As if he hasn’t noticed all the signs pointing to Kalos, even if her despondency was the final piece to the puzzle.
“You know where I’m heading, then. What’s the big deal, anyway? You’ve jetted off to Unova and spent the world’s longest camping trip on Mt Silver. Like you’d care if I set out in Lumiose.”
A sound tumbles out of Red that squeezes Blue’s lungs.
It’s different this time.
He doesn’t know when Blue will come home. Or if he’ll prefer his new life so much that he decides to settle there, splitting their paths forever.
Even on the days he treated him like gum stuck to his shoe, Blue lived across the road from where he played, occupied the seat beside him in class, and lingered behind reams of messages answered in one to two words. It’s impossible to imagine him being all of those things somewhere else.
“Why leave—” Red deliberates before throwing the precise word. “Suddenly?”
“There’s no big drama.” He huffs between sentences. “I just wanna be anywhere else but here.”
Red’s stomach clenches, rendering his shock into background noise. The centre of Blue’s brow lifts at his reaction.
“Does that surprise you?”
He nods.
“Why?”
He takes a long time to answer, and as he fumbles, his eyes gravitate to a nearby advert of Bulbasaur, Charmander, and Squirtle. Their beaming faces exhibit three exciting new flavours of drink. Blue wins back his attention with a smile, expecting to hear something nostalgic and already deciding that won’t work on him.
“You grew strong. Here. In Kanto.”
“So did you, but that didn’t stop you running up the highest peak you could find.”
“You’re a Gym Leader. A Champion, too.” Red’s voice softens. “The one they talk to.”
“Eh, you don’t get it. It’s because I hate this place that I won’t let it beat me down. I’ve been bustin’ my derrière at the gym, and I’ve still had time to ace my studies, cram Kalosian, and set the next trend before hitting the hay. None of that came from having it easy.”
“Then—” Red hesitates. “Do you hate me?”
“No. Just didn’t wanna make a scene.” Blue jitters a laugh. “Don’t take it too hard, I would’ve written to you eventually.”
Ending on a slower than usual nod, Red sighs and shuts his eyes.
He hadn’t anticipated changing Blue’s mind or even preventing him from crossing the gate. His only goal was to see him, to hear in his own words why he would spare him the pain of a goodbye, and now, he had.
The grief must show on his face, because then he feels a bump on his arm.
“Tell me, Red, what’s keepin’ you here?”
“Mom.”
Blue snorts, not too displeased with his answer. “I got sis.”
He holds his tongue, seeing the problem.
“I guess… I dunno… maybe you’re there too, some days. But lately, it feels like all that matters to everyone is how useful I am. Whether I’ll sign their autographs. Whether I make the league look good. Nobody asks me what I want.” Blue glances away, begrudging himself for the words streaming out of him. “That’s why I gotta leave. I’ve gotta find out what that is.”
With curled hands, Red listens, mired in concentration, eyes raking over Blue’s luggage before reconnecting with him at the end.
“I didn’t know you felt that way.”
“Well, now ya do.”
He swallows. “I wasn’t there for you.”
Blue quickly snorts.
“Don’t do that. Don’t go feeling sorry for me.” His voice corrects from brittle to energetic. “It’s about time I joined you. Just watch me, I’ll be the hottest new researcher on the block! Gramps won’t be able to open a volume on the Kanto-Kalosian rewilding without running into my name!”
There’s a menacing gleam in his eye, like a blade. Like if he says it enough, it’ll come true.
So this is what it feels like to put everything on the line, Red thinks.
Even if it doesn’t work out, even if it ends in failure the way his ten-year-old dream did the second he grasped it, Blue has to try, because trying is all he’s known. He can’t keep from pushing. Can’t keep from putting one foot in front of the other. No wonder he had such a knack with the rookies fighting Rattata and Nidoran outside his gym.
Suddenly, Red envies him. He can’t remember the last time he yearned for anything the way he did. He’d beaten the Indigo League, won the ultimate title, and vanished into smoke when it no longer suited him. And now, here he was, skulking from stage to stage, wielding hunger for the sake of hunger. He feels numb. Directionless.
Part of him wants to forget everything and just go with him.
The intercom pings and announces pre-boarding for a list of flights. None of the numbers mean anything to Red, but the air grows thin, and his heart skips all the same. Luggage wheels skate past his ears, and the queue snakes rapidly around the check-in booth. The room sours with the smell of stale coffee and reheated sandwiches.
“I’ll miss you,” is all he says.
Blue forces a chuckle, mostly for his sake, which infuriates him a little beneath the smile.
“Bet ya can’t wait to see the end of me.”
“Maybe,” he murmurs teasingly.
“Knew it.”
Then, in the indeterminable quiet that stretches between them, time vanishes.
Blue wastes it thinking of the parts of Kanto he’ll miss.
The half-tame Pidgey that perches on the railing of his Viridian loft. Ethan’s clap of a high-five echoing in his gym as he surrendered the keys. Daisy waving him home with too many leftovers to ever imagine wanting. The fleeting occasions he bumps into Red at the PokéMart, who smiles at him in his breathless sort of way, accepting promises of a match that never eventuates.
“Red.”
Blue swallows, eyes half-chasing the people skirting around them for the gate.
“… I’ll miss you, too. I’m glad you came.”
Red grunts a sound and dips his shoulders, his eyes begging for a hug.
At least, that’s Blue’s embarrassing but not-at-all wrong interpretation of the starved look on his face.
He checks around, embarrassed, unsure of what to do, when Red reaches out and takes his hands, startling him even further. He has the nerve to squeeze gently, nestling his thumbs into the crooks of his wrists. Blue blinks, heart surging, holding back the urge to tear himself away.
It’s ridiculous, but he wants this. Wants to feel wanted like this. If he’s going to have a mushy goodbye with anyone, at least it’s with Red.
Feet grounded, he mirrors his gaze, staring at Red the way he has stared at him all these years. Through the warm flint of his eyes, his fear pares into something that leaves him light-headed. Something like taking down his wall. His barbed words and buoyant exterior. He sees Red, and in the trenches of his mind feels longing intermingled with forgiveness.
“You win,” he puffs, and envelops him tightly.
Red clings back, scrunching his eyes and heaving a lungful of Blue’s hairspray.
“It’ll be ass—I mean, different around here when I’m gone, but you’ll manage without me. You always have.”
“Write to me.”
His tone says: you promised, and Blue laughs.
“If you want something good, you’re gonna have to wait for it.”
“Then I’ll wait.”
An announcement for Blue’s gate cuts through the air, and Red feels the confirmation in the tautness of his body. With a sigh, his hands scrape away, leaving a lurch in Red’s chest as the rest of him slinks free.
He lets go without a fight.
Blue grabs his carry-on, pausing without words, and with straight shoulders, marches through the gate. All signs ahead point to the terminal. The side of his face betrays a smile as he verges on slipping from view, and in the seconds he has left, he salutes the air like Red ought to be captivated by him. Which, he is.
“Smell ya,” he says, resisting a final glance as he joins the crowd in the boarding area.
Red watches him go, drawing a breath and staring at his back, torn by the double exposure of who Blue was and who Blue could be.
He imagines Blue’s awe moments before touchdown. His smile as he shreds the top half of his croissant for Eevee, wondering if, like him, it was ready to evolve. His private laughter as he strolls into his new apartment and finds the nearest PokéMart equivalent where no one can recognise and compare him to Professor Oak.
How he snores over several manuscripts before one day mailing a published volume to Red.
Along with an invitation to Kalos, which was brighter than any magazine he owned.