Chapter Text
__________
There are a few things in life that Hop has vowed to never take for granted.
The first was his family and friends.
Leon was the best brother one could ask for, an inspiration and guide and friend all wrapped up into a larger-than-life package, and his friends Gloria and Victor, the new twin champions, brought him so much joy and pushed him to grow in ways he didn’t even know was possible. Getting to spend time with Sonia both in and outside the lab made him even more grateful that she took him on as her assistant, and another unexpected perk was that he got to help her when the gym leaders had pokemon specific issues and needed the help of a professor. He’d even gotten to know Marnie, Bede (though begrudgingly on the fairy type specialist side), and the other gym leaders better as he ran errands between them, relationships he’d never thought to have after he finished the gym challenge.
However, Hop decides he’s about to add whoever made his beloved daily planner to that list, because he doesn’t know how he could live without it anymore.
As Hop’s schedule had grown more and more busy, his appreciation for his trusty planner only grew. It had been Leon who had recommended that Hop start using one after hearing about the numerous tasks he had been juggling, and he was forever grateful for the wise advice of his brother because, oh how he needed it.
Focused, he sits at his desk, dividing up his next few weeks into neat sections. Online class, homework, lab work, and pokémon training are just a few of the near-daily tasks that he must allocate time to, and that’s not even counting other irregular chores like grocery shopping.
Hop leans back in his chair, considering his current schedule. He had nearly forgotten that he needed to go and perform field observations of dynamaxing pokémon in the wild area, and for the first time, he got to go alone. He didn’t even have to go into the dens themselves, only count and monitor the pokemon around them, since Professor Magnolia had mentioned in past research that they seemed to gather around them. Little research had been done past that, however, so it’s Sonia’s (and by proxy, Hop’s) job to quantify this into a number.
His ability to defend himself from the wild pokémon was no issue, but his skill in making and recording accurate observations was something that had to be vetted by Sonia before he could go out and do it alone. But now, she has given him the ok to go alone (and only one month after becoming her assistant!) and he feels that this is his first chance to prove himself.
Perhaps he could go out this Friday?
He taps his pencil against the side of his face, thinking for a moment.
No, he’s promised to hang out with the twins then. Maybe the day after? No, there was that exhibition battle that he was invited to; if he didn’t show, either whoever wasn't the champion at the moment (he’s pretty sure it’s Victor right now, but they swap the title so frequently it’s hard to keep up), or perhaps even one of the gym leaders, or heavens forbid, Leon, would hunt him down and drag him to it.
They all continued to insist that he participate in the tournaments, despite not even having an official role in Galar’s gym circuit, but that was a topic he would have to address some other time.
Looks like he’ll need to do the observations today, then.
Hop quickly erases and rewrites the event, scanning over his work so far. That should cover everything, thankfully. Sending a quick text to Sonia to let her know where he’s going and that he’d drop off the research after he was done, Hop picks up his backpack, double-checks its contents, then stands, stretching his arms up high.
“Ok everyone,” he calls out, the noise ringing through the house. “Who’s coming with me to the wild area!?”
All at once, Hop hears the sound of claws and hoofs on hardwood, several of his pokémon rushing up the stairs and into his room. Leading the pack is Dubwool, who walks forward and nudges him questioningly with one of her large horns. He smiles, leaning down to give her a quick hug.
“Of course you are silly, that’s without question.” Hop assures, before turning to the rest. Rillaboom, Heatmor, and Boltund all seem excited and willing, but he thinks for a moment, shaking his head.
“Sorry, I need to pack light, and can’t bring everyone today.” Hop explains, not missing the disappointed looks on their face. “And I’ve already brought each of you all the last few times I’ve gone.”
He smiles, giving each a pat on the head. “You all can stay out of your pokeballs though!” Hop consoles.
There was no one here beside himself and his team anyways, so they would have the house to themselves to relax while he was gone, which in his opinion was infinitely better than having to stay cooped up. They seem to agree, talking amongst themselves in excitement as Hop steps around them and into the hall. Walking past Leon’s old room, he spies a large mass of blue on his brother’s bed.
He stops, doing a double-take.
“Cramorant!” He scolds, realizing it was indeed one of his pokémon in there, “Get out of Lee’s room, you know better!”
The sea bird pokémon looks up from his spot on Leon’s bed with a squawk, hopping to the floor and waddling out without a hint of urgency. Hop sighs, shaking his head as he follows it downstairs.
“You all don’t go in Leon’s room either, ya hear?” He calls teasingly to the group of pokémon remaining upstairs. He thinks he hears Rillaboom’s call in agreement, Boltund and Heatmor noticeably silent, but Hop trusts the grass type to make sure they don’t destroy anything of importance.
Before leaving, Hop does a quick once over of all his pokémon. Snorlax is sleeping in the living room, Corviknight resting beside it, and Trevanent is in its favorite spot in the kitchen, tending to the small plants Hop got it as a gift. Sandaconda and Pincurchin are in the laundry room and bathroom respectively, and Toxel is-
He pauses, looking around.
Where is Toxel?
He spies the door to his grandparents' room, suspiciously cracked open when he swore it had last been shut, and he frown, walking over and stepping inside.
“Toxel,” Hop starts, immediately spying the small purple pokémon playing with a stack of his grandparents’ shoes. Much to his dismay, they have been partly dismantled, the laces completely undone and soles removed.
He sighs, picking up the smaller pokémon with a shake of his head.
At least he should have plenty of time to fix them; last he spoke with his mother, their current “trip” would be longer than a month, meaning he had the house to himself until then.
“You’re lucky they won’t be home anytime soon.” Hop says tiredly, carrying Toxel out of the room and shutting the door behind him, then depositing the pokémon beside the still sleeping Snorlax. Corviknight wakes at the motion, however, and its feathers ruffle, a single eye opening to observe what had disturbed it.
“Corviknight!” Hop greets cheerfully, running his hand through the dense feathers on the pokémon’s back. “You haven’t got to go with me for a while now, so are you up for some research?” He asks. The massive pokémon opens both eyes now, then shuffles forward and pokes him with its beak. A yes, then.
“I knew you’d agree!” He laughs, crossing his arms. “I’ll get everything ready; this should take no time at all!”
__________
“No time at all” quickly turned from 1 hour to 4 hours, and by the time Hop is done, he’s tired, mildly sunburnt, and soaked, an unfortunate run-in on his way back with a startled Sobble absolutely drenching his jacket. Attempting to wring the cloth dry had been ineffective, so as soon as Corviknight landed in front of his house, he had draped the jacket over the bushes to dry in the midday sunlight.
At least his data gathering had gone well. The raid den Sonia had assigned him to hadn’t been as busy as they had hoped though, possibly due to its proximity to Hammerlocke. Luckily, this made the actual counting part of his task easy, aside from accidentally counting a pair of Pikachu’s multiple times before he had realized the two were actually making a strange detour from their perch by the den into the forest, and back again. Hop hadn’t figured out what was causing the behavior; he’d have to ask Sonia when he got her papers to her.
And speaking of papers, he still needed to deliver them before it got too late.
Yawning, Hop shuffled towards the door, throwing his backpack over his shoulder and searching for his shoes. His jacket is still outside, he realizes, and walking towards the door Hop opens it and steps out, intent on grabbing it and going back in.
However, there is no jacket to be seen.
In fact, there is nothing in sight at all.
Instead, a vast expanse of pure grey blocks out everything, the shifting wall that stops him in his tracks. Hop stares, equal parts astonished and confused by its presence. It’s as though the fields and trees had vanished, their absence leaving a rip in the universe that wouldn’t render. Just an endless, grey nothingness.
Fog?
Still stunned, he reaches out, half expecting to feel a tangible presence under his fingertips with how thick it appears, but his hand passes through the air untouched aside from the chill of moisture dusting over his skin. He lets his hand drop to his side, his confusion only mounting. A quick glance up reveals even the sun’s location has been swallowed by this unexpected weather phenomenon, the light being defused across the fog in such a way that it doesn’t even leave a shadow underfoot.
Hop hadn’t checked the weather, but he had been out all day; surely he would have noticed if a storm was moving in, especially so suddenly?
He squints into the grey, straining for a familiar sight. If he stares hard enough, he can just make out the bushes that line the path to his home, but he wonders how much of it he’s actually seeing, or if he’s just imagining what he knows to be there in the misty shapes that seem to appear and dissolve just as fast.
A sudden shudder races up his spine, and he grimaces, turning to the side. The fog definitely brought down the temperature, Hop realizes with a frown, and the water droplets suspended in the air only make it feel even colder. He, fortunately, had just washed his favorite rain jacket, with all the other laundry he had placed beside where Rotom is resting with his phone, so it shouldn’t be too much of an issue-
He turns fully to go back inside, and freezes.
The house is gone.
It’s gone.
It’s such an unexpected sight, one that rebels fundamentally with what Hop’s mind expects to see, that all he can do for a few seconds is stare blankly. The same wall of grey at his back now stands in front of him, and there’s not a hint of even the frame of the door, much less the rest of the building.
A nervous laugh escapes Hop as he glances around, not sure what to make of this anomaly.
It’s there, it has to be, he reminds himself. He hasn’t moved. The door frame is less than an elbow length away, both logic and memory tells him-
Hop reaches out again, a scene identical to his earlier action when he had first opened the door, and the result is the same.
But he hasn’t moved.
Yet, even when both hands shoot out, waving out wildly and blindly into the fog, and even when he walks, then runs back into what should be his living room, there’s nothing there.
It’s just him, the fog, and his increasingly loud heartbeat.
Hop laughs again, the strained, panicked type that always seems to escape him no matter what he does when he gets scared. Ok. He just… needs to think.
It’s like he’s in the Slumbering Weald, at the start of the gym challenge.
But then, he had Gloria and Victor. He had the assurance of Leon waiting at home, and the knowledge that his brother would come searching for Hop if he took too long. And back then, he had also, most importantly, knowingly entered the Weald .
In the present, he had none of those, and he’s somehow become lost mere steps away from his own home. Maybe he’s becoming like Leon, he thinks hysterically.
Frantically, he pats his side, then tears off his backpack, digging through the papers and the spare pokeballs he keeps on him, checking for any of his pokémon and groaning in realization. Most of the team had been in various areas of the house last he had checked, and even Dubwool, his near-constant companion, had still been in the foyer behind him. Well, that’s the last time Hop would be leaving the house without at least one of them in the near future. And his phone; he was never, ever leaving his phone anywhere except his pocket.
Though, perhaps he should give himself some grace. A single step outside hardly counts as leaving, does it?
The faint amusement the thought brings is soured by the realization that he is truly, utterly alone.
His grip on his backpack tightens until he’s hugging the bag so tightly he can feel the papers crinkle inside of it. Part of him wants to pick a direction and run; surely, if he keeps moving he’ll find something. A tree, a fence, hell, perhaps even the twins' home, just something that he can use as an island in the sea of grey. He just- what does he do-
A blurry memory, but one with a lesson repeated many times since pops up in his head.
A much younger Hop. A visiting brother. It’s almost as if Hop can hear Leon’s deeper laugh, intertwined with Hop’s own high-pitched giggle as the older reminds him, “... and if you’re lost, don’t move, m’kay? Wait for me to come find you; keep moving, and I’ll have a harder time getting to you!”
“But you’ll always find me!”
“Well, yeah, but still! It makes it easier on me and Charizard, right?”
While the likelihood of Leon coming to save the day now was near zero, the advice is still sound. Taking a deep breath, Hop lowers himself to the ground, the cold dirt joining the fog in seeping away the warmth in his legs. Lovely.
Raising his knees up to his chest, Hop leans forward, wrapping his arms around them and resting his head on top as he stares into the fog. The sharp panic is hard to hang onto, especially now that he’s just sitting and doing nothing, and he frowns as it bleeds into annoyance. Now he’s going to be late, and Sonia’s papers are going to be wet. The first big assignment he has as a professor's assistant, and he’s already messed it up. Hop glares at the offending fog, wishing it would just disappear. Can’t it see it’s ruining everything?
It, unfortunately, does not listen to his mental scolding.
He’s not sure how long he sits there before another shiver wracks through him, and he turns his face into his knees, ending his one-sided staring contest with the grey as he tries to retain some warmth. It’s too cold though, and the fog is so thick his clothes are steadily growing wetter and wetter, leaching away any heat he can produce.
Hop’s only hope and the lifeline that keeps him rooted to his spot is the fact that Sonia will come looking for him. His mother and grandparents have already left for their trip, as they call it, and most likely wouldn’t be home again until Lee announces a visit.
Leon, on the other hand, was in his new battle tower and had no reason to suspect anything was amiss.
It would have to be Sonia.
She needs these papers, and he promised to deliver them; surely, when he fails to appear, she will come to see what the delay is? It was all just raw data, but it had taken Hop hours of observation to gather. She wouldn’t want to repeat that, right?
Honestly, it’s getting so uncomfortable Hop wouldn’t even care if she just came looking for the purpose of scolding him. Anything to get somewhere with a semblance of warmth sounded heavenly.
Hop drags his eyes back open, not sure when he shut them, and to his despair it is somehow darker than before. The fog wraps around him, blanketing him in its grasp, and maybe it’s a bad thing to be assigning so many living traits to it but it is almost as though it’s reaching for him. The air is wet and heavy, and Hop can taste the water in it when he breathes in.
He’s so tired-
It’s as if the remaining dredges of his strength leave him once the thought is realized, his grip around his knees failing as his arms go slack. Hop feels more than sees himself pitch to the side, shoulder colliding painfully with the ground.
That’s not good; he needs to get back up.
All he can manage, however, is curling up ever so slightly with a grimace, palm scraping uselessly against the dirt.
Hop really-
He really wants to go home now.
Maybe this is a dream? Surely it must be; nothing is making sense, and there is a certain unrealness about what’s happening to him. How can he go from the warmth of his living room to this horrid state?
Ugh. His eyes are shut again.
Hop tries opening them once more, but he’s not sure if he succeeds or not with how dark it now seems. The fog has gone from its snowy grey to a darker color, like what he’d expect to see in the deepest crevices of the Weald, where the light doesn’t reach. He doubts he could see his own hand in front of his face at this point.
There is… a darker shadow?
It’s looming over him, distinct from the fog around it, and Hop’s hit by sudden deja vu as he remembers a similar scene-
His eyes slip shut again.
—————
Hop wakes up feeling cold and sleepy, like he’s tucked under a blanket but hasn’t gotten rid of the chill, and with the distinct feeling that something strange just happened.
He doesn’t necessarily want to open his eyes just yet; there's a soft, weighted presence on his lap, draped over his legs, and a similarly comfortable one behind him that he is currently half lying on. Both are still, aside from the gentle rocking motion from their even breathing. Hop smiles slightly, pressing himself deeper into the warmth behind him. Which one of his pokémon it is, he has no clue. Snorlax perhaps? Or Rillaboom, considering he’s fairly certain that he asked Snorlax to refrain from getting on his bed after the larger ‘mon accidentally bent the frame. And it’s probably Dubwool in front; he remembers fondly how she loved sitting in his lap when she was but a small Wooloo.
Both are blessedly warm against the chill in the air, and he’s still freezing, so he hums, reaching his hands out to burrow them deeper into what must be Dubwool’s warm coat.
Except, the course, springiness of wool isn’t there; instead, a soft, dense fur meets his hands, and he frowns.
…Which one of his pokémon has this coat again?
Groggily, he opens his eyes, blinking slowly to try and get the sleep out of them. A green canopy greets him, tiny streams of sunlight sneaking through the branches and piercing the fog.
His breath gets caught in his throat, and Hop sits up immediately, adrenaline and confusion racing through his veins. Where is he-
He opens his mouth, to ask Dubwool to get off him, but it’s not Dubwool that’s laying on him.
Pale blue fur fills his sight, coral highlights and massive, pointed ears, and he can’t breathe once more because it’s Zacian.
Zacian, the legendary Pokémon, one of the heroes of Galar, savior during the darkest day. A pokémon with the ability to hold its own against a god, one that could decimate Hop without the slightest bit of effort.
Hop feels like his heart has dropped all the way to the bottom of his stomach. Actually, no, further than that; it’s residing somewhere in his shoes, which doesn’t really make sense but neither does this entire situation, because why is Zacian curled around him like a living, legendary, heated blanket-
Something shifts behind him, pressing back up against his back, and Hop flinches, risking a glance behind him. The royal red and blue is enough of an indicator in itself as to what pokemon this is, and Hop stares in disbelief at the sleeping Zamazenta, whom he had just also been sleeping on mere moments ago.
There are a lot of questions here, but now is not the time or place to find answers.
Hop can, however, try to get up quickly and quietly before the two sleeping legendaries notice he’s gone. Because what else can he do? Wake them up? His last interaction with them hadn’t been bad, per say, but it takes a certain brand of foolishness that even he does not possess to be so bold as to wake them for no reason, despite the fact that he’s freezing.
Hop will count his blessings, hope this doesn’t come across as disrespectful (as if using one as a pillow and the other as a blanket wasn’t bad enough), and take his leave. Maybe pinch himself once he got a good distance away, to see if he’s dreaming.
Slowly, he looks around, the surroundings becoming more and more familiar as he actually takes a second to study where he is. They are definitely in the Slumbering Weald, that’s without question, and slightly behind him is the arch that frames the stone altar where Hop and the twins had found the sword and shield relics.
Despite his and Sonia’s efforts, and no matter how meticulously they had retraced their steps, they had not been able to find the altar once the legendaries had disappeared once more. At least until now, since Hop had, somehow, decided to take a nap on it. With two gods, who had disappeared without a trace months ago.
Now that he thinks about it, how did he even end up here?
His memories are… absent, at best, a gap between what he was doing and where he is now. Hop’s pretty sure had been delivering something. Papers, maybe? He spies his backpack a small distance off by a tree, its main pocket unzipped and revealing white inside, furthering the theory.
Carefully, Hop tries to sneak out of their, admittedly comfortable and warm, hold. He doesn’t make it up more than a few inches before Zacian shifts, then growls, the noise rumbling through his bones.
Hop freezes, heart pounding.
Zacian waits a moment before opening their eyes, gold meeting gold as Hop can do nothing but stare, petrified.
He’s so dead. Cause of death, sleepwalking into the weald and disturbing the sleeping legendaries that had literally just saved all of Galar and wanted some well-deserved peace. He’s going to die. He’s so, so dead-
Zacian leans forward, nudging their large muzzle against his chest until Hop is forced out of his frozen state and pushed back, back, back, until he’s lying on Zamazenta once more. Seemingly satisfied, they huff, laying their head across his chest and effectively pinning him down.
Stunned, he can’t help but laugh, sort of breathless and nearly inaudible, but at least Zacian doesn’t seem to be angry at him. Just… disturbed that he interrupted their nap, maybe? Perhaps it was unfair of him to expect the worst out of them when they had done nothing but save him and the region, but part of Hop worried that Zacian would still be upset he let their relic be taken, even if he eventually recovered it.
Out of the corner of his eye, Hop sees Zamazenta lift their head, glancing up at Hop with ruby and gold eyes, before dropping it once more, not caring in the slightest about his presence.
Relaxing only slightly at their acceptance, Hop lies there, wondering what is going on.
Despite their warmth, he’s still freezing, and maybe that’s the reason they’re curled up around him? Had he gone off and gotten lost, and as the (mostly) benevolent protectors of the forest they decided to help instead of letting him die of hypothermia?
It’s a tentative explanation and one with plenty of holes, but he’s at a loss for what else could be going on. Sighing, he shuts his eyes, resigning himself to his fate of remaining here until Zacian or Zamazenta let him go.
He doesn’t mean to, but he’s still tired and they are warm, and within a few minutes he drifts off to sleep.
__________
When Hop wakes up once more, he’s alone on the altar, with nothing but stone digging uncomfortably into his back. Slightly dizzy, he stands, grabs his backpack, and begins to make his way out of the forest, wondering if everything that just happened was a dream.
A very vivid, strange dream.
The eternal mist that shrouds the area isn’t any lighter, but the blue hue it casts is not nearly as hard to navigate as before. He doesn’t encounter any wild pokémon as he walks, something Hop is grateful for considering he doesn’t have any of his team on him. It is strange though; this section of the forest is normally full of them.
He quickly comes across the reason for their absence as he rounds a bend and comes face to face with Zacian and Zamazenta blocking his path. The forest is silent.
They stare, and Hop stares back.
The likelihood that it was a dream has greatly decreased.
Leaning his weight from one foot to the other, Hop frowns, looking around. Surely they know he doesn’t have any pokémon on him, if it is a battle they want. Their gaze is unnerving, and he smiles nervously.
“I- …” He calls out, uncertainty stalling his words. “If you want to battle, I can get my pokemon for you!”
Neither move, and Hop’s smile falters. Not the right thing to say then.
He spies Zamazenta’s eyes flick towards his backpack, then back at Hop's face. He wonders if they have mistaken his backup pokeballs for his team, so slowly, he reaches back, slipping it off his shoulder and digging inside.
“They are empty,” He explains, holding out a spare pokeball for them to see.
Immediately, their eyes lock onto it, and Zacian takes the first step forward. Hop doesn’t step back, but it’s a close thing, and he squares his stance readily, not sure what to expect.
The legendary wolf walks forward, paws padding silently against the mossy path, and Hop resolutely stays in place, his nervousness only tampered down by the fact that if they wanted to hurt him, they had already had plenty of chances to do so. It’s best to just wait and see what they wanted from him.
Zacian stops an arm's length away and sits, looking down at him expectantly. At Hop’s confused face, they snort, the hot air blowing across his face and Hop can’t help but compare it to a sigh, especially with how unimpressed the wolf looks. Zacian stares at the empty pokeball, then back at Hop, and it finally clicks.
“No way…” Hop breathes, understanding hitting him like a hyperbeam to the face. “You… want me…” he trails off, but Zacian nods once.
His grip on the pokeball tightens.
“Are you sure?” He asks warily.
Hop could think of over a dozen other people who would be a better match for a pokémon such as Zacian. Gloria, Victor, Leon, literally any of the gym leaders, the list goes on. Additionally, he has just decided to become a professor; while he was aware that he was no pushover in battle, he was never… enough.
And he was aware that that fact applied to more than just pokémon battles.
Zacian tilts their head to the side expectantly, and Hop realizes that, yes, this is happening, and yes, it’s going to be him. Well, he can’t let the saviors of Galar down, can he?
“Ok,” He laughs, a sort of giddy excitement rising in him as the reality that he’s going to catch a legendary sets in. “Get ready!”
It’s not a hard throw at all, hardly a toss, but the pokeball connects with a sharp click, Zacian disappearing under the red light. It falls to the ground, and Hop cheers when it only shakes once before letting out a shower of sparkles.
He crouches down and gingerly picks up the pokeball, cradling it in both hands.
“Thank you.” He whispers, giving it a light pat before tucking it into his backpack, pulling it back on. There were always new responsibilities a trainer must face when acquiring a new pokémon but the pressure on Hop’s shoulders now felt immense with the knowledge that he was now the trainer of a pokémon so powerful. Shakily, he breathes out, trying to calm himself.
Zamazenta steps forward, and Hop startles, nearly forgetting that the other pokémon was there. Their red and gold eyes are wide, and perhaps amused? Or maybe he’s thinking to far into things.
“I’ll take good care of Zacian!” He promises, straightening and fixing his most serious look on his face. Zamazenta nods, surprisingly understanding, and then sits down, a mirror image of Zacian’s earlier pose.
Just… like Zacian…
It takes a second of staring up at the massive pokémon to connect the dots.
“I- Uh-” Hop sputters, tripping over his words with wide eyes. “You too?!” He can’t help but finally exclaim, eyebrows shooting up.
Zamazenta merely stares, slowly blinking at him in a way that conveyed it knew exactly what it wanted him to do.
Ok, this is getting sort of ridiculous now.
“Listen, I-” He starts, running his hands through his curly bangs as he begins to pace back and forth.
How do you politely tell a legendary that they really should consider someone else? With Zacian, it’s a massive responsibility, yes, but it’s a single one. Hop’s not certain he could handle having both-
A massive tongue swipes across his cheek, shocking Hop out of his thoughts.
“Did you just lick me?!!?” He yelps, indignant. Zamazenta looks utterly unapologetic and steps around him, digging their massive snout into Hop’s still-open backpack.
“Wait, wait, I have papers-” He scrambles to take the bag off, hoping in vain that the wet papers are not damaged beyond repair. Fortunately, Zamazenta finds what they are looking for easily enough, large teeth clamping down carefully around an empty pokeball that looks comically small in their mouth.
Hop swallows, holding out a hand. The legendary drops the ball onto his palm, and he frowns, deciding to try and negotiate one more time.
“How about we discuss this tomorrow, yeah?” He rambles, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “That way, I can get things prepared for if you still want to come, and you can decide if this is what you really want; I mean, I didn’t even get to tell Zacian this, but I’m trying to become a researcher now anyways! A proper professor! Maybe you’d be more interested in someone specializing in battles and-”
Zamazenta leans forward, pressing their nose against the pokeball, which quickly opens in response, drawing the pokémon inside.
Hop’s voice dies in his throat as it shakes once, twice, and a third time, and for a second he thinks Zamazenta is going to pop out and crush him since there’s a reason you don’t try and hold pokeballs that are actively capturing a pokémon-
A shower of gold sparkles flurries up around the pokeball, and Hop sighs in relief.
“Ok then.” He says softly, nodding once in resolve.
Carefully, he takes the pokeball and places it beside Zacian’s, then puts the backpack on once more. The Weald is still silent as he treks through it, the only noise coming from the rustle of a breeze through the tall grass and his own faint breathing. There are still no pokémon in sight, but it doesn’t disturb Hop like it did earlier; he swears the whole forest seems a little lighter, the mist a little less heavy.
__________