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Lyra sighs, recalling her meganium and bobbing her head politely to the girl in front of her. Oh, why-oh-why had she ever thought she even stood a chance?
Dawn, the Champion of Sinnoh, who she had – of course – lost to, smiles at her with what Lyra’s sure is pity in her eyes. “You put up a good battle, you know. Your azumarill is really strong for how cute it looks.”
“Thanks.” Lyra flushes with embarrassment and frustration and maybe a little because of the cold or something else. “Maybe we can battle again sometime.” Stock phrases and a promise she doesn't intend to keep. Whatever she can say to end this humiliation quicker.
Dawn pulls her scarf up a bit higher and nods. Turning away with a wave, she leaves the snowy clearing. Her boots crunch like a bomb ticking: when the steady rhythm fades, Lyra will fall apart again.
She didn't expect to win. She isn't stupid. But a tiny, hopeful part of her had said, Everyone else I know can pull off miracles. Why can't I, for once?
And now she’s crushed. Again. Both battle-wise and emotion-wise.
Lyra wonders if she was always going to be a failure.
♡
She came to Sinnoh last week, on a ferry loaded primarily with tourists. Though Lyra had journeyed through Johto, it was Sinnoh, Hearthome actually, where she had grown up. Her birthdays had been spent in the contest hall stands, cheering on coordinators and dreaming that she too would one day stand on that stage.
However, when she was eleven-and-three-quarters, her mother had announced they were moving to Johto to be closer with Lyra's grandparents, and so that dream was crushed.
Her journey through Johto had been…rough. She'd initially had to borrow Kris’s pokémon a lot, since the other girl had so many and Lyra only wanted to catch “cute”, small pokémon. Eventually she became more self-reliant, and collected all eight gym badges, but when she got past the Elite Four – the third to do so in less than twenty-four hours, she later found out – she was met with the familiar face of Gold.
She lost.
Not the first sting of failure, but certainly one of the most bitter to taste.
It hadn't mattered in the end, how much she had grown, how much she had dedicated herself to being a better pokémon trainer, how much she had tried and tried and tried . It hadn't mattered at all.
He had smiled at her afterwards, one of the first that wasn't a smirk or teasing grin. It was pity. Like Dawn.
He had launched into a “good try!” speech and she could barely stomach it. He meant it, too, which was worse. Gold didn't usually say things like that, even to Kris who he had grown up with.
She had nodded along, trying not to cry or run away.
A couple weeks later, she found herself buying a ferry ticket to Sinnoh. She called both Gold and Kris, one after the other, with the breeze rustling her pigtails and nothing but blue as far as she could see.
“Are you coming back?” was what Gold had asked.
“Of course,” Lyra replied instantly.
“Are you sure?”
“ Yes ,” Lyra had hissed, entirely unsure. He’s always a little too perceptive. It always catches her off guard.
Kris had been different.
“Why?” is all she said.
Did she want her to say, oh, you know, because no matter what I seem to do here nothing goes right for me and you and Gold will always be better than me?
Because that’s a little too on the nose. And it's not her fault Lyra isn't good at anything.
“I wanted to go see my old home,” she had lied.
“Come back soon,” Kris had said, with a tone that made Lyra think maybe Kris had seen through her, before she’d had redirected back to her story that involved a houndoom, three slugma, and a long-frozen specimen of pokémon.
Once she had landed in Canaclave, she had started trekking over to Hearthome. She still had her old winter coat, so she was at least a little protected from the blistering cold (even if it was a little small now).
She didn't have a real plan other than: a: go to Sinnoh, b: get to Hearthome, c: win a contest, d: ???, e: profit. Somehow.
There probably won't be a lot of profit in store if she's being honest. Who knows if she'll even be any good at contests? Maybe Sinnoh and Johto aren't as different as they felt when she first moved.
Anyways, she'd made a wrong turn somewhere , and ended up in the Eterna Forest. It's snowy and dark here, but she had run into a cool girl – who turned out to be the Champion , no less – and had a battle, and lost (as if she could expect any other result, again, that girl was a champion ), and now the cold was starting to seep between her coat’s seams.
Whatever. Surely she can find the next city before it got dark. Or at least a place to stay for the night.
♢
The creaky, definitely-haunted chateau is, nominally at least, a place to stay.
Lyra’s a little afraid of the floor collapsing beneath her, or maybe the roof caving in under the pressure of snow, but she makes it through the night alright.
The sun rises, its beams piercing through the moth-eaten curtains and waking Lyra up. She had slumped against a wall at some point in the night, and must've nodded off by accident.
She leaves the clearly abandoned building as soon as possible; even though she's pretty sure she's alone, it feels as though something is watching her. This place is definitely where a ghost would hang out, too.
The woods are blindingly blank in all directions, a fresh slate. The heavy snowfall last night has wiped away her footprints. Great. Which way did she come from again…?
She pulls her pokégear out of her bag and clicks it on, but the screen stays stubbornly black. Dead battery. Of course. It's been a few days since she charged it, sure, but to be fair she didn't exactly expect to get lost in a forest. Lyra bites her lip, thinking hard. She’ll just pick a random direction and walk. She’ll come across a town eventually.
♡
It's been three hours (if her pokédex’s clock is right) and so far, she could be walking in circles for all she knows. The landscape is unchanged, still a uniform corridor of snowy trees. She let out her azumarill earlier, for a bit of company.
Walk, walk, walk, that's all she can really do. The flakes fill in her footprints as soon as she leaves them. At least she has plenty of food and water with her.
She opens up a Rage Candy Bar, nibbling on it. It's weird, how the taste makes her long for Johto, even though whenever she was there she wished to be back here. Her azumarill paws at her leg and she absent-mindedly breaks off a bit to give to him.
The snowfall gets thicker and thicker, and she's really wishing her pokégear wasn't dead. Hell, even just to call someone to chat. It would beat trudging through the snow (almost) alone.
At this point, she'll even take Gold’s pity or Kris’s looks or even Silver's glares or—
FWHSHH—!
Her foot goes through the snow, and she stumbles, and she falls and falls and she's rolling down a hill, faster and faster and she keeps rolling and then THUD—!
Her vision explodes into stars.
Shit .
She really got herself into it this time.
Everything hurts hurts hurts . All she can feel is the cold and wet and hurt .
Her right side aches as she looks up at the offending tree. The bruise is probably already blossoming, painting her skin with sickly shades of purple and yellow.
She shoves her hands out, trying to find her bag, but it's not within reach. She pushes herself up onto her elbows, wincing at the pain in her right arm. At least the snow’ll be good for the bruises.
Her bag is just a little past where she was blindly reaching before. She's able to snag it with her fingertips, pulling it towards herself.
All of her stuff is still inside, the bag wasn't open when she fell. Her azumarill peeks over the edge of the decline, trilling and chirping.
“I'm alright!” she calls, hoping he hears her and hoping she's not lying. She pushes on her arms again, until she's upright, and steadies herself on that bastard of a pine tree. Alright. She's alright. She's gotta be alright. Time to get out of here.
She pulls herself up, wobbling, and balances on her right foot. It's probably a bit bruised too, but fared better than the rest of her side. Her left ankle aches, though; must've hit it on something on the way down. But to get back up, she's gonna have to walk.
She's careful about it, placing down her other foot. But careful doesn't stop the crack of her ankle, careful doesn't stop the pain that shoots up-up-up, and careful certainly doesn't stop the way she falls crumpling to the ground.
For a moment, all she can do is breathe. Alright. Okay. She's alright. She swallows down her tears – from the pain or from the stupidity of her situation or whatever kind of hysteria she's getting close to, she's not sure.
She can't move. She can't call anyone on her pokégear, most of her pokémon on hand are weak to the cold and therefore can't help her (except Azumarill, stranded at the top of the incline) and so she can't call them out, for their own sake. She rifles through her bag, trying to find anything to help her – her pokéballs, payapa berry ointment, a loyalty card for the pokémon centre (what?), her pokédex, an entire fishing rod—
Hold on. Wait. Her pokédex! It should have an SOS function on it somewhere, Kris told her once.
She clicks through the menu with eager desperation. So many options, so very many, but none of them say HELP, I HAVE FALLEN HUMILIATINGLY AND EVERYTHING HURTS …oh, there it was, SOS! She clicks it and hopes for the be—
Oh, of course . No service. Only works in Johto and Kanto. Of course! Why does she even bother trying? Why does she try at all?
Maybe she shouldn't have come to Sinnoh at all. Maybe she should've just stayed home in the first place, never trying to be a trainer like everyone else around her.
What did she even want to prove by going here? Was it, look, I can be good at things too ? Was it, I’ve changed ? Or was it, I'm not as worthless as you think ?
Because, yeah, falling down a steep incline and hurting her ankle so bad she can't walk and thinking she could win in a battle she didn't have a chance in and her pokégear being dead so she can't call anyone and probably freezing to death in the snow was really gonna stick to ’em, right? Who is she even kidding anymore?
She shivers. Her coat really wasn't good enough for this weather. Warmth gathers in the corners of eyes – tears that dribble slowly down her cheeks.
Maybe it's for the best that this is happening. People go missing all the time. Who cares if she joins them?
…It does sting a little to think that. It's not the first time she has, either. Because, really, who would? Her pokémon, sure. Her mother as well. Would Gold and Kris? She'd been nothing but a burden and a nuisance to them ever since they met. Silver wouldn't care, he doesn't like her. Who else even is there? The professors? Lance? They'd think back on it with a bit of pity, same they would for any trainer. Her old classmates and friends in Hearthome might never even know, and if they did, they'd probably forgotten her by now.
Maybe…maybe she should just give up. Maybe it would be best to just…die here, instead of living only to prove a thousand more times how much of a failure she is. Maybe…people will look back on her fondly.
Maybe…
Maybe this is how she can change.
“Hey!”
Lyra blinks.
“Are you alright!?”
The voice calling out is familiar, but not one she can place. Lyra doesn't respond.
“ Hey! Shit, are you awake?”
Gloved hands grab her shoulders. Lyra turns her head to be met with the girl she met yesterday, Dawn. She's frowning, clearly concerned – for Lyra? That can't be right. They don't know each other.
“Did you hear me? Are you okay?”
“…I'm alright,” Lyra lies. She's far from it, but this is too humiliating. Maybe Dawn will leave. At least she lets go of her shoulders.
Her azumarill chirps. Shit, is that how Dawn found her?
“Can you get up then?”
Yesterday, Dawn's voice was far more monotone; quiet but powerful in a way that matched the shine on her gym badges. Now, it's a bit louder, a touch frantic, a little too kind.
“Yeah, sure,” Lyra says; another lie. She pushes herself up to kneeling. “See? I'm just fine.”
Dawn glares at her, something steely in her eyes, softened by concern that she shouldn't have. “I meant standing .”
“Well, I'm fine just kneeling.”
“I don't think so.”
It's Lyra's turn to glare now, pathetic as it is. “You can just leave if you want, you know.”
“In this weather? You must be really out of it. Cold going to your brain or something. Come on, I can get us to Eterna pretty easily from here.”
“What part of I'm fine don't you get!?”
“What part of you'll die don't you get!?” Dawn snaps, pulling Lyra up. “It was cute for a bit, but I really don't want to leave you alone to die .” Azumarill grabs the bag in his little paws, while Dawn pulls Lyra's arm over her shoulder.
Lyra tries to shove away, but it doesn't work. “What if that's what I want?”
Dawn pauses momentarily, silent.
“You know, no one asks what I want! I'm so sick of it! I never wanted to move away from here, I never wanted to go on a journey in Johto, I never wanted to be a shitty trainer, I never wanted to be— to be this ! To be such a fucking failure all the time! I just— I just wanted to be good at something, to prove I'm not as fucking worthless as they think, I just…” Lyra's voice trails out, barely above a whisper, exhausted. “I just don't want to be me anymore.”
Dawn is still. “I feel the same way sometimes,” she whispers, back to her monotone.
“No, you don't!” Lyra explodes, hot tears now streaking down her face but she doesn't care this time. “You're a fucking— a fucking champion, you literally proved how worthy and perfect you are! You beat everyone, you beat me down like I was nothing! You don't get to say you feel the same way, you don't get how it is to— to be pitied by everyone, you get the opposite, you get to be idolised! Do you know how it feels to be the only one who's a failure, who was always a failure, the only one who can't grow up and suddenly become good at everything— the only one who doesn't change!?” She tries again to push away from Dawn, but the champion shoulders her arm steadfast.
“No, I… you're right about that,” the champion says. “But I don't… I don't really want to be myself anymore, either.”
“What, life too hard when everyone loves you?”
“Not what I said.”
Lyra narrows her eyes but says nothing.
“I used to be so…cheerful. Naïve. I had a best friend, and we were safe in our little bubble. Inseparable. And then we made a stupid mistake, wanted more than what we had, got caught up in things we shouldn't have been, and now I'm like…this.” Dawn pauses, pulling up her scarf. “You say you can't change? I changed too much. I don't even…I didn't really start out with champion ambitions, I just wanted to…to have a fun adventure with my friends. How naïve, right?” She laughs, humourless. “My friends, they made it, they got what they wanted. Up-and-coming Frontier Brain: Barry! Lucas is the professor's assistant still, but he's working on eventually becoming a researcher of his own…sure, I'm champion, but that's my pokémon, not me. I don't…I don't have a dream to aspire to…That's the only part of me that hasn't changed.”
Dawn takes a deep breath, her face still impassive. She didn't even cry, not like Lyra, who looks just as immature and childish as always.
“Anyways…Eterna isn't very far, like I said. I can—”
“Let's just go already.” Lyra slumps, exhausted, crushed. What's the point in lashing out again?
“...Okay.”
The next hour – or at least Lyra thinks it's an hour, she can't check – is pretty silent, just the occasional trill from Azumarill and the rustling leaves that tells Lyra that pokémon are probably watching them.
“So…” Dawn starts.
“So?”
“So…you used to live in Sinnoh?”
Oh, right, she had said that. Lyra turns a little red, mostly from embarrassment and maybe something else too – not that her companion can see.
“Yeah, Hearthome. It's where I was trying to get to.”
“Boy, you made a wrong turn then,” Dawn says, immediately dipping her face into her scarf afterwards. “...sorry.”
“It's fine. It's true, honestly.”
“Still.” Back to the monotone as always. Maybe it's a defensive thing, maybe it's her real tone, who knows? Not Lyra.
“I thought I might go see it again, see if anything much’s changed. Been a year, so you know…”
“I can help you get there if you want,” Dawn says a little too suddenly, surprising Lyra. The same girl who she just yelled at and was horrible to? Offering to help her out? There's gotta be some ulterior motive or something there, right? But all she said in reply was:
“Why?”
“Well, part of it is that you seem like you need a friend. And also so you don't fall down another cliff. But to be honest…”
And here it comes, the ulterior motive, the real reason a girl like Dawn would ever want to hang out with a girl like Lyra. The big reveal!
“...well, your azumarill is adorable, so I want to see him more. I think my empoleon would love to meet him!”
Not exactly what Lyra was expecting.
She supposes a champion always thinks of pokémon first. Azumarill chirps and brushes one of his ears against Dawn's leg in affection.
“...Okay?”
Dawn pumps a fist lightly, clearly trying not to jostle Lyra too much.
“It'll be our own little adventure!”
Lyra smiles, properly, for the first time since she arrived in Sinnoh, the first time since she lost to Gold, the first time since the Lake of Rage, maybe even before that. She finds that she missed it.
She tries not to think about the snow.
“Sure,” she agrees, her voice trembling ever so slightly. “An adventure.”