Chapter Text
“Masquerain, use Hidden Power and finish it!”
“No! Wartortle, Rapid Spin and use Ice Beam!”
Masquerain and Wartortle move to attack, their close proximity creating a strong force as their moves collide, blowing them both backwards and hitting the ground in front of their Trainers. As the smoke clears, both Pokemon are collapsed, not quite out of the battle yet, but barely hanging on.
“Wartortle, get up! Please!” May begs, watching as her Pokemon slowly struggles to get back up.
Drew is equally desperate on the other side of the field. “Come on, Masquerain, you can get up!”
May glances over across the field, and sees the stress on Drew’s face, knowing hers mirrors his. They’ve been rivals for almost ten years now, and while this isn’t their first Grand Festival final, it is their first against each other. She was pleasantly surprised to see him during the first round, and stuck closely with him throughout.
They’ve had frequent encounters over the past nine years, and ever since May started traveling alone she’s begun to realize that she tends to drift towards wherever Drew is. They’ve participated in contest circuits in separate regions, but usually find their way back to each other at least once every few months. In Johto, they ended up traveling together for about two months between contests before parting ways (May doesn’t really know what to think of those two months, but there are feelings and there should not be feelings).
It’s not entirely out of chance to run into Drew here in the Hoenn Grand Festival; in fact May figured it would happen when she saw him in Mauville City a few months back. But here in the finale, she’s surprised that they haven’t ended up here before.
She currently has three Ribbon Cups, and just won the Hoenn Grand Festival last year. Drew was in Kanto last year, which is why they didn’t end here sooner. However, he does have four Cups under his belt as well, which makes him an extremely formidable opponent. Beating Harley and Solidad in this Festival was immensely difficult, but they both managed to do so flawlessly, and are now where the universe always wanted them to be.
Looking across the stadium, May notices suddenly how much Drew has really changed over the past years. She first met him when he was an irritating twelve year-old boy, but now he’s taller. His shoulders are broader, his grin is more confident, and he’s gotten rid of those horrid aqua pants. Standing across from her now is a mature, still-confident, and reliable twenty-one-year-old man that she’s grown to really see as an equal and a close friend. Despite seeing each other frequently over the past nine years, May’s sure that there’s numerous other changes that she can point out. Her heart warms at the growth they’ve gone through together.
They’ve been rivals for years, and May can’t help but grin at the fact that they’ve grown to become close friends, as well. She watches as Drew runs his fingers through his hair in his signature hair flick, and meets her eyes across the field. Something unrecognizable in his green eyes flash at her, and May feels her heart tug at her chest when she sees them softening slightly, then turn back to his Masquerain.
Both Masquerain and Wartortle slowly get up from the floor, getting back in their positions but panting heavily. Masquerain stutters in its flight in the air, and Wartortle is working on its stance to stand up properly. May risks a glance at the large jumbotron screen, seeing their near-equal distribution of points and the thirty-two seconds left on the clock. She’s not even sure who’s winning anymore, because the points are so close that she swears it’s a tie.
She looks back at Drew, and sees his exhaustion as well, his serious expression mirroring hers. And then she realizes what they’re both thinking at the same time. It doesn’t matter now. They’ve come so far now, and their Pokemon are okay. Their Pokemon are standing, and do not need to take any more hurt.
The stadium starts to grow antsy with the lack of action, and Lilian has begun to speak when Drew holds a hand up to silence her. Their mutual understanding grows, and May nods. Drew follows, and they both readjust their footing so they’re standing in a relaxed way, waiting for the timer to go up.
“Hey, Mayflower,” Drew calls, his voice piecing itself together whole, as if he’s not as tired as she is. Mayflower. May doesn’t remember when he started calling her that, but it makes her heart jump. He’s the only one who calls her that, the only one who ever says that and follows up by procuring a flower that isn’t a mayflower.
“Yeah?” May calls back, unable to read whatever look is on his face now.
There’s seven seconds left on the clock, and Drew takes the time to respond back. Lilian can’t speak now, not when the whole stadium wants to know what Drew has to say. The whole stadium is silent, waiting for what’s to come. This doesn’t happen in Grand Festivals. No one ever stops with time left to spare.
As they’re standing, May recalls the past collection of years they’ve been doing this. It’s been ten years now that they’ve been competing against each other, and it’s finally come to the two of them in this final, back in Hoenn. Their first Grand Festival final against each other in Hoenn, and it’s come to a premature ending with mutual understanding. They don’t need to continue this further, not when there’s nothing left to prove to each other.
“I love you.”
Except that.
There’s a collective silence from the stadium, so loud that the timer doesn’t shake it from its observance. Lilian doesn’t move to announce the end of the battle, nor does she allow for the winner screen to appear on the jumbotron.
Oh. May can’t stop the tear that slips down her cheek when she’s finally able to respond. “I love you, too, Drew.”
The stadium roars.
The battle is declared a draw.
Grand Festival history is declared.
In the middle of it all, embracing tightly in the middle of the field with roses scattered at their feet, is May and Drew.