Your starter might want to leave you one day, someone had said, to Jongdae. What would you do, if he wanted to?

He won’t, Jongdae said. Jongdae had learnt to be polite and smile nicely, but he couldn’t mask the defensiveness, seeping through his former certainty.

He won’t, Jongdae repeated, remembering to smile properly, then.

Sometimes Pokemon and people grow apart, the researcher had said.

Jongdae had politely taken his gear from the researcher, and left as soon as he could.

--

Baekhyun was supposed to be his brother’s starter, until the rest of Jongdae’s family had passed away – no, died, and there had only been Baekhyun and Jongdae left.

Jongdae had worked harder than anyone else, because he knew that he needed to be a trainer worthy of Baekhyun. He’d needed to bring Baekhyun all the way up to the Elite Four, all the way to meet the Champion. That had been what his brother had wanted to do, and that had been why Baekhyun had chosen Jongdeok. All Jongdae could try to do, was to live up to that.

It had been working, it was working, until Lavender, and the ghost tower. The ghosts had been good at conjuring illusions, memories from the past, nightmares to come – and Jongdae and Baekhyun had never spoken of that night again. Not even when Baekhyun chose to evolve into a Flareon.

It was the type they needed the most in the team, Jongdae knew that. Still couldn’t look straight at Baekhyun, for days, and actually flinched away, a few times.

He got over it, of course. Jongdae could get over most things, if he put his mind to it.

--

Up in the Rock Mountains, the ground gave away to a strange, verdant garden, b with flowers and growing trees.

The rest of the mountain was dry, arid land, scrub fighting its way through rocky scree.

Jongdae wiped his visor surreptitiously, but the garden was still there.

Suho, his Poliwhirl, couldn’t take the heat. Baekhyun didn’t like the dryness – and he preferred to remain in his pokeball, so that left his Nidorino, Kyungsoo, who was staring, wide-eyed, at the garden as well.

“Rino,” Kyungsoo said, lifting his snout to sniff at the air. His purple armor stiffened, rabbit-like ears perking.

“Let’s skirt the perimeter,” Jongdae suggested. “There should be water, inside.”

Jongdae could see gardening tools, as they walked around. Ladders, wooden poles, shovels.

“Nidorino!” Kyungsoo barked.

Jongdae dropped to a crouch, hand reaching for a pokeball.

“Hoppip.” A reddish-pink, radish-like Pokemon clung to a vine, green leaves on top rotating like the blades of a helicopter.

“How dangerous,” Jongdae commented. Kyungsoo lifted a back leg to kick Jongdae, who overbalanced and sat flat on the rocky ground.

“Loom!” Jongdae watched, mouth open, as a Pokemon that looked like a cross between a kangaroo and a plant charged out of the garden, red petal-like structures in place of its hands and feet.

Kyungsoo bristled, poison barbs along his back spiking. He lowered his head, angling the horns on his head. Ready for battle.

“Breloom,” Jongdae said, glancing at his Pokedex. It was really, really quick and vicious on its feet  - there wouldn’t be any guarantees in this fight.

This had to be a trained Pokemon, it didn’t move like a wild one. Brelooms didn’t even belong to Kanto, anyway.

“Good at fighting moves, watch out for the spores on its tail,” Jongdae warned. He tossed his two other Pokeballs into the air, releasing Baekhyun and Suho. If there was a trainer, there were other Pokemon.

The Breloom delivered a glancing blow off the side of Kyungsoo’s face with its feet. Kyungsoo growled, poison barbs bulging.

“Tao!” A voice called, sharply. “You stop that – “

A man ran out, tackling the Breloom. They tumbled head-over-heels into the grass, ending with the Breloom stalking away, side-eyeing Jongdae and Kyungsoo. Grudgingly, the Breloom extended a hand to the Hoppip, anchoring it in place.

“Sorry, sorry,” the man said, winded. He got to his knees shakily. “Wasn’t expecting visitors.”

Jongdae recoiled, as the man looked up.

It was the same researcher, the one that had asked him – what if your Starter wanted to leave you?

Foreboding crawled up Jongdae’s spine, tensing it.

He didn’t recognize Jongdae – merely brushed matted, shaggy hair aside, smiling at Jongdae.

“I’m Yixing,” he said. “I’d shake your hand, but I’m not the cleanest person here. We’ve been saving water.”

“Flare,” Baekhyun said. Jongdae jumped, reaching for the pokeballs. He’d forgotten that Baekhyun preferred to stay inside, these days, and he should have kept Suho – the dry air wasn’t good for him.

Yixing spoke, when Baekhyun and Suho had vanished into the Pokeballs.

“Is something wrong … with the two of you?”

Jongdae couldn’t help tensing up, even more. Kyungsoo was silent, sitting back on his haunches.

“No,” Jongdae said, shortly, defensively. Remembered to pull out a smile, after that.

“You look familiar,” Yixing said.

“ off,” Jongdae said, voice edged with a sharpness he didn’t know he could have. Kyungsoo cocked his head, curious.

For once, Jongdae would like his Pokemon to protect him.

“Come in and take a break,” Yixing said.

“No,” Jongdae said, agitated.  

“Okay,” Yixing said. “I’ll be here all the time, anyway. Whenever you need food and a good bed to sleep in, come back here. No shower, but you have your Poliwhirl, so that’s good.”

“Suho,” Jongdae said.

“Suho?”

“His name is Suho,” Jongdae explained. It was a small, stubborn habit, but Jongdae always insisted on people calling his Pokemon by name.

“Those are Kris, and Tao,” Yixing explained, waving his hand at the Hoppip and Breloom. He crouched down to peer at Kyungsoo, offering an open hand for the Nidorino to sniff. “What’s your name?”

“Nido,” Kyungsoo said, squinting at Yixing.

“I’m not nuts,” Yixing said.

Jongdae stared. Usually trainers were good at reading Pokemon – what they wanted, what they didn’t want – but it took time, and patience. Yixing had just met Kyungsoo.

“…Nido.”

“Kyungsoo, nice to meet you.” Yixing nodded. Kyungsoo nosed at his hand, satisfied. “Nido.”

“I can understand you just fine,” Jongdae grumbled. Kyungsoo had plainly said, learn from him.

“What’s your name then?” Yixing asked Jongdae. “Or do you want my hand to smell, as well?”

The Nidorino chortled, and Yixing grinned, sunnily.

“We’re going, Kyungsoo,” Jongdae said shortly, ignoring the surprised look on Yixing’s face.

“Wait, wait,” Yixing said, scrambling to his feet. Kyungsoo was still sitting there, observing Jongdae and Yixing.

“Didn’t mean to offend you,” Yixing said, “but what you have going on with that Flareon…you should sort it out, soon, or let it go.”

The Breloom raced across the garden towards them; Jongdae stared, extended fist throbbing, as Yixing reeled backwards, clutching his jaw.  

“Sorry,” Jongdae got out, then turned and ran for the safety of the mountains.

--

The next battle they entered into, in the rock tunnels, they lost. Jongdae had to switch out Baekhyun for Suho (Baekhyun was next to useless against Rock-types), and as Baekhyun left so did the light he provided; Jongdae found his words coming slower, more useless, the darkness of the cavern a physical weight.

“Poliwhirl!”  Suho dodged the Graveler, translucent skin stretching.

Jongdae knew he had to say something, anything, any water move, but it was hard and -

“Suho!” Jongdae shouted, as his Pokemon was flung bodily across the floor. The Graveler tucked itself in, forming a giant round ball of gravel.

The Poliwhirl forced itself to its blue feet, normally friendly eyes hard.

“Water gun!” Jongdae said, at last, and the Poliwhirl took aim, water escaping in a torrent from the spiral on its white belly.

It was force against force, the Graveler’s forward motion against Suho’s Water Gun. The inescapable motion of inevitability, cannoning towards Suho and Jongdae.

Suho held his ground, feet apart, white gloved hands clenched around the torrent of water.

And Jongdae couldn’t do anything, had no more moves up his sleeve for Suho to pull. Had to watch as the Graveler barrelled into Suho, sending Suho flying. Suho hit the wall with a sick thud, and the Graveler crashed into the cave wall, crumbling into a heap of wet mud.

Jongdae’s wheezing filled his ears, that was all he could hear. He reached for his Pokeballs blindly.

It was Baekhyun he sent out, against the Onix. Jongdae said, croaked, no, no “I give up!”, but Baekhyun opened his mouth and –

It was the sight of fire, in the dark, that did it for Jongdae. Fire voracious, desiring, writhing its way down the Onix.

Fire, bright against the night sky, illuminating chaos and the screaming, panicked figures caught inside Jongdae’s house.

“Dude,” the other trainer was saying, shaking him roughly, “dude, call off your Flareon – he doesn’t have a chance and he’s attacking like a mad thing - “

Jongdae in a wet breath. He’d – lost the past few minutes, without noticing.

He withdrew Baekhyun. Stood there in the dark, unable to distinguish between the flickering flames and the darkness, around them.

“What’s up with you?” The other trainer asked, and Jongdae couldn’t reply, paralyzed.

--

Back under the sun, in the fresh air, Jongdae sunk to his knees. Clutched himself, unsure of what was going on.

He’d thought this was over, had always thought it had been – had been adverse to fire, but not this way – he’d frozen, frozen in battle -

“What happened to him?”

“I don’t know,” the trainer said, “we were battling, he got that Flareon out, and after that –“

Yixing, crouching before Jongdae. Voice soft, soothing, speaking to Jongdae carefully.

“I’m not letting Baekhyun go,” Jongdae croaked.

Yixing paused. “I won’t say that again,” he promised.

“I can’t lose Baekhyun,” Jongdae said. Repeated himself, said “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t I can’t.”

Clutched at Yixing’s sleeves, repeated, “I can’t.”

“Okay,” Yixing said, placidly. “Sure.”

They knelt there, facing each other, until Jongdae’s legs gave way. Yixing caught him, quiet.

They sat there, Jongdae limp in Yixing’s arms, Yixing pressing Jongdae’s head to his chest, blocking the sun.

“Don’t make me,” Jongdae said, voice tiny. Yixing carded Jongdae’s hair, and took up his cramped hands to massage. Threaded his rough fingers with Jongdae’s, gentle.

“I won’t,” He promised.

--

“I don’t believe in Pokeballs,” Yixing said, when Jongdae asked him about Kris and Tao, who were always out and about in the garden. “It’s cool and shady here…you should let Suho and the rest out.”

Not your Pokemon, but Suho and the rest. Jongdae appreciated that Yixing remembered their names. Because of that, he chose not to say anything about the anti-Pokeball rhetoric (Yixing was a man living alone in a garden in the middle of an arid mountain – it only made sense that his ideology was as outlandish as his existence).

There was even a small spring, bubbling into a tiny pool. Jongdae fed Suho the Super Potion, waited to see the injuries knit and disappear from Suho’s slimy blue skin, before letting him jump in.

Kyungsoo promptly went to sleep, after digging a tiny nest for himself in a pile of leaves and dirt. He’d told Jongdae before that it wasn’t sleep in Pokeballs, no matter what people said.

Baekhyun stared at Jongdae, and demanded to be let back into his ball.

“Why do you like the Pokeball?” Yixing crouched beside Baekhyun, curious.

Baekhyun darted a warning tongue of flame at him; Jongdae flinched. Took a moment to get the right ball, and summon Baekhyun back in.

“Sorry,” Jongdae said. “He’s not… things happen. He’s not himself lately.”

Yixing nodded. Rolled up his pants legs and crouched down to unlace his boots.

It was this place, and another human figure, that made Jongdae say it.

“I’m not a good trainer,” he said, throat clenching. “I don’t know what Baekhyun wants.”

Yixing removed his boots, peeling off mismatched, patched socks.

“But I’ll know, won’t I?” Jongdae said. “I’m making an effort, and Baekhyun will, too. I’ll know how to be a good trainer for him, one day, won’t I?”

Feet in the dirt, toes flexing, Yixing straightened.

“You’re scared of fire,” he observed.

Jongdae was suddenly cold, sweat sticking to his skin. He didn’t say anything.

“Was it that night?” Yixing asked, and Jongdae –

“Poliwhirl.” Suho rubbed a wet, white glove over Jongdae’s face, startling him. The Pokemon stood, dripping wet, in front of Jongdae, translucent stomach heaving. Jongdae could see the faint outlines of his innards, inside.

He took a moment to remember where he was, and what happened. Jongdae had seen it again, had seen the flames leaping up the rafters, eating their house from inside out.

“I remembered you,” Yixing said, into the silence. “I saw you, on television, a few times. Saw you battle once, live.”

“What did you see?” Jongdae asked.

“You and Baekhyun,” Yixing said, “you-“

“He hates me.” Jongdae finished his sentence, dully.

“I’d say, you’re scared of him.” Yixing said. “What Pokemon would like his own trainer to be afraid of him?”

“I’m not – “ Jongdae said. Stopped, thought about it.

“It’s the flames,” Jongdae said. Pinched himself, to stop himself from drifting away.

“I think you mean the first fire,” Yixing said. “Because you gave Baekhyun everything that you could, but it looked like you wanted him to go away.”

Jongdae wanted to shout at Yixing, but he caught Suho’s eyes.

The Poliwhirl agreed.

It wasn’t Baekhyun, but it was what Baekhyun meant, for Jongdae. What chasing Baekhyun’s dream had meant for Jongdae.

But Jongdae deserved it, deserved all the tension-filled nights and tightrope-walking days. Deserved every bit of it because if it wasn’t for him, his family would still be alive.

So Jongdae was good to Baekhyun, because Jongdeok would have been. Because getting Baekhyun to the Champion was what Jongdeok would have done.

Jongdae had always treated Baekhyun the way Jongdeok would have. There wasn’t anything more that Jongdae could have done, nothing, nothing nothing.

Jongdae put his head to his knees, breathing shallowly.

He had faced this, many times before – had got to his knees in a corner, when things between him and Baekhyun got too much. But it got harder each time, to get back up again.

Mind a blank, words charred to pieces, years ago.

“I can’t do that,” Jongdae said, it was like sifting with bare hands through ashes, hands burnt on still-warm embers – “I can give Baekhyun everything but that.” Then, “why isn’t this enough?”

Yixing left him to himself, after that. Only Suho and Kyungsoo sitting with Jongdae, one on either side of him.

--

Baekhyun knew, from when Jongdae let him out.

That was the trouble, that they couldn’t lie well enough, to each other. Pity, they tried for so long.

Jongdae lifted the Pokedex, angling it at the Pokeball. Baekhyun sprang to his feet, mane flaring, as Jongdae activated the blue beam that cancelled the Pokeball’s hold on a Pokemon.

“Let’s start over,” Jongdae said. “Can we? Can I be your trainer?”

Baekhyun watched him, and Jongdae remembered – how mischievous Baekhyun had been, when he was still an Eevee. Days spent playing in their backyard together, in the overgrown garden.

Jongdae had never given Baekhyun that; could never give that back, to Baekhyun.

“Flareon,” Baekhyun said. No.

Jongdae regretted it, dove for the Pokeball, but Baekhyun spit fire at him, and Jongdae – Jongdae froze, long enough for Baekhyun to turn and disappear into the darkness.

Holding Baekhyun’s empty Pokeball, Jongdae stared wildly into the darkness. Chose a direction, and ran as fast as he could, shouting –

Baekhyun! Baekhyun!

Baekhyun in the fire, coming for Jongdae. Dragging Jongdae out, as the house fell, around them.

Baekhyun in the respirator at Pallet Town, after the fire. Jongdae at the base of his bed, bandaged hands placed awkwardly together, so he could pray.

Baekhyun in the days later, unable to eat. Regaining his appetite when they’d aired a match, of Red against the then-Champion, Lance. Him looking at Jongdae and Jongdae promising him, that they would make it up there together.

Baekhyun at their first gym, throwing himself against Geodudes in the Pewter Gym. Jongdae climbing into the ring without thinking, both of them chased out of the Gym for being too reckless.

Baekhyun choosing Suho, and Kyungsoo, saying they’d do. Jongdae and Baekhyun being both relieved that other Pokemon were here, now, buffers between the both of them.

Baekhyun choosing to evolve, into a Flareon, in Celadon. Jongdae working odd jobs in the meantime, for more than a year, until they had enough to get the Fire Stone.

Baekhyun in the ghost tower, waiting for Jongdae to tell him, to guide him out. Jongdae too scared, unreasonably, of going near Baekhyun -  of his red-orange body, like a flame in the darkness. Too scared for a minute, but a minute was plenty.

“Baekhyun!” Jongdae shouted. Always too hesitant, when it came to Baekhyun. “Baekhyun!”