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The Viridian Gym is a mess.

It’s cold, gaunt, and laced with dust. Some bored kids had broken in one night and ridden the floor panels one too many times, with half of them now fizzing sparks beneath a wall of graffiti. The words: TEAM ROCKET SUCKS dripped and dried in red paint pull a sigh from Blue. 

He reminds himself that no future worth having is a cakewalk. 

“So it’s official?” he prompts, shaking the keys in his hand like a cat toy. “I mean, beyond that paper I signed.”

“You are the Leader of the Viridian Gym,” says Lance.

“No more rules? Instructions?” 

He isn’t used to asking, but then, he’s never been handed a major cog of the Pokémon League before. An inseparable one, in fact. He was all that stood between Kanto’s most exceptional trainers and the Elite Four.

Lance deliberates.

“Do you need reminding not to engage with the criminal underworld? Though even Giovanni was careful to separate the two.”

Blue snorts. “I don’t.” 

“Then the space is yours to cultivate for the purpose of testing those worthy of the league challenge.” He gives a scant smile. “Though, first I’d recommend a paint job and perhaps a technician for the heating and cooling systems. Fire safety is of the utmost importance in this line of work.”

Said the dragon specialist to the Arcanine trainer, Blue withholds.

“Got it.” 

His next port of call will be refitting the old floor panels. Not only are they dated, but they’re inefficient for getting around. What was Giovanni trying to do? Die of old age before someone finally battled him? Then again, there was something funny about sending trainers on a wild Golduck chase on the brink of Victory Road.

“Welcome to the Pokémon League,” Lance bids, extending his hand. “You have your work cut out for you, Champion Blue.” 

Smiling blandly, he snatches it into a shake. 

Lance strides back to the entrance, heels echoing against the hard ground, and looks over his shoulder at the first of the kids to join the Hall of Fame. For his sharp eyes and bright, spiky hair, the room just about swallows his presence. Blue, seeing a weirdo in a cape, sends him off with a salute. 

He has his work cut out for him, alright. 

With the gym’s smouldering reputation, it’ll be like throwing a banquet in a fist fight. 

If Blue had wanted to join the circus, he was certain he’d be made ringleader. Ex-Champions were a hot commodity. Especially the ones jumped by cameras on the doorsteps of their freshly repainted gyms.

He juggles their questions as best he can, suppressing the part of him that wants to tell them all to bug off. Attracting the public eye meant advertisements, sponsorships, celebrity status. Things the average trainer would kill to have dropped at their feet. Things he has truly little time for.

“Do you feel ready for this position?”

“Was the last guy ready?” 

“How does it feel to be the youngest member of the Pokémon League challenge?”

He yawns. “Boring.” 

“At what figure do you estimate the refurbishment?”

“More than my pay packet.”

The reporters laugh.

“Don’t sweat it,” Blue grapples, forcing a look at the nearest camera. “Lance’s taken care of everything. There’s no more laziness. No more weakness. I’m Blue, and I’m your new Viridian Gym Leader. Consider this whole show under new management.” 

He strolls inside, smiling as the doors seal out the storm.

The cavernous gym looms back at him, lights humming and flickering. Before he has the right to wield his new title, he needs to have everything up and running, so he spends the rest of the day ringing Cerulean sprinkler fitters, Cinnabar heating technicians, and electricians from the Vermilion Gym. 

All are surprised to hear the name Viridian. They’re even more surprised to hear a kid enlisting their services, and waste precious time checking he isn’t a prank caller.

He gets a head start by commanding his Pokémon to smash and remove the floor panels for a total refitting. It’s therapeutic, if he’s being honest. The sooner the work begins, the sooner he’ll be ready for the trainer who walks in someday with the power to defeat him. And the closer he’ll be to forgetting Red.

The following morning, Blue is blockaded again outside the unit he’s moved into behind the gym. Their questions range anywhere from needling to obnoxious, spinning rurmours about secret Team Rocket bunkers, which by now he’s sure the gym doesn’t have, and demanding he comment on Red’s whereabouts.

“Last I saw him, he was on top of Mt Moon. The highest point. Anyway, I’ve got a gym to run.” Blue turns without looking back. “Smell ya later!”

He rounds the corner, ears peeled for footsteps that don’t follow, and pauses at the sight of a long, black car humming on the side of the road. Rolling his eyes, he ignores it, closing in on the gym’s doorway.

“Hey, kid,” booms a familiar voice.

He glares up at the sight of a rolled down window. 

Of all the clowns. It’s Giovanni.

“What do you want?” Blue sneers. “I’m busy.”

“Team Rocket may be finished, but I needed to see what has become of my gym with my own eyes. What an excellent job you’ve done. To think that my old job would fall into the hands of a child.” He laughs. “New management indeed!”

“Well, now you’ve seen it. You can roll up the window and get back to fossiling in a basement somewhere.”

“So soon to be rid of me? You were not like the other child. You were strong, but not distractible. Nor driven by ideological simplicity. It is a shame we never joined forces.”

Blue bristles at the second mention of Red this morning.

“You have been burned by him too, haven’t you?”

“Think whatever you want,” Blue says tiredly. “I only took this job ‘cause no one expects a kid to run things better than they do.” 

“Then let it be known that I am impressed with your work.”

Giovanni offers a smile that lifts only half of his face, and Blue considers taking a spray can and painting TEAM ROCKET SUCKS back over the interior of his gym. 

“It is not my intention to cause trouble for you with my presence. Consider me a ghost.” 

“No kidding.” Blue scoffs. “All I’ve gotta do is say your name three times in the mirror, and you’ll appear, won’t you?” 

Giovanni tips his hat as the window rolls up, and Blue folds his arms, watching the car screech away. Knowing his luck, the next headline will feature something about the Phantom Champion taking the post of the Phantom Gym Leader. After all, ghosts had a habit of congregating over the ashes of what once was. 

It’s interview day for trainers wishing to join the gym, and people have travelled from all over Kanto to convince Blue of their skill.

Blinking twice to compose himself, he breezes over a line that stretches past the corner of the gym and down the following street. Once he’s pushed his keys into the door, he turns and addresses the crowd, who stare back at him, stunned at how much smaller he is in person. Let alone the fact that he’s already drinking coffee. 

Blue unleashes a grin.

“Under my leadership, Viridian Gym will be the first not to specialise in any type!”

Word skips down the line like wildfire. 

A few, looking different shades of angry and disappointed, start walking away. 

If they can’t handle a curveball like that, they’re not cut out for this gym, he decides, unshuttering the windows and flicking on the lights. 

He pulls up a black, swivelling chair, supposing it belonged to Giovanni once, and decides it’ll suffice for sifting through the talent on offer. He crosses one leg over the other and rests his elbows onto a silver desk, hunched in thought, his eyes lit by the adjoining screen.

“Send ‘em in,” he says to the gym guide. 

First in line is a man with a maniacal glint behind his thick-rimmed glasses who won’t shut up about his Slowpoke. Then comes a woman with a Vulpix and a bundle of lighttable hoops. And then a kid with a Victreebel who’d rather loaf around like a sock than obey him. The following applicants don’t fare much better. 

“Is it true there’s a vault here full of Team Rocket’s money?” 

Next.

“A prestigious gym demands a prestigious trainer. My qualifications begin with the highly illustrious PokéAcademy.”

Next. 

“A gym on the edge of the Viridian Forest ought to specialise in bug types, don’t ya think?”

Next. 

“You sure you don’t remember me? We battled on the boardwalk at Route 12! Well, now that we’re here, would you mind signing this poster for a friend?”

Blue sighs loudly. “What’s your friend’s name?”

“Erm, Justin. We’re both called Justin.”

Next. 

“Let’s see your registered team.” Blue clicks a button, eyes freezing on the screen. He’s seen this before, but not to this extent. Not with such hubris. He’s certain he can hear his own head split apart from the sheer force of the stupidity.

The child across from him fidgets, bubbling with excitement. 

“They’re all Rattata,” he says impassively, “at level two.” 

“They sure are!” 

“Kid, don’t you get it? This is the last stop before the Pokémon League.” 

“Yep! And we’re gonna send ‘em packin’!”

Only once the coast is clear does Blue mash his forehead against the desk. 

The interviews drag into the evening, and by the time he’s locking up, having sent away the last of the queue with a promise to smell them next year, he hears a rap on the door. His eyes, strained from today’s antics, lock onto two pale faces behind the glass. Supposing this’ll be good, he opens it.

“You’re late.” He tsks sharply. “I’ve already booted everyone out.”

“Hear us first!”

“Seriously! We’re not going anywhere until you do!”

Blue arches a brow and uncrosses his arms.

Apparently, they’d come from Fuchsia City, flying the route over the Seafoam Islands where they were sucked into a rogue storm. By the looks of them, they aren’t lying. Both trainers are soaked to the bone and shivering, hair blown, ears blasted red by the weather. Still, they came. If only for him to deny them.

“He’s Elan, and I’m Ida.”

“And usually we’re a pair of ace trainers.”

“We’ll see,” Blue says, feeling a spark of something like his first time dodging lightning on Pidgeot’s back. “Welcome to the shortlist.” 

In the weeks that follow, the new gym takes shape.

Hiked up on the back wall, in the place of the old graffiti, hangs the Earth Badge like a family crest. 

Magnemite charge the generators, Machoke fit the walls with steel as Magmar weld them down, and with a final thumbs up, the last row of floor panels are switched on, blazing a fluorescent red path to the Phantom Champion. Blue’s quite proud of the configuration. After all, it’s fun to confuse and dazzle his opponents before bringing them to tears.

He’s even greeted with a favourable news headline at the PokéMart. 

Drawing stares at the counter, he grabs a packet of Pewter Crunchies and emerges onto the street. A familiar black car slows to match him, tailing him to the gym. Scowling, he rounds the corner and takes the bait, allowing the window to reveal Giovanni once more. 

“Thought you were a ghost,” Blue says, in the tone of get lost.

“No ghost is so easily contained. I came to congratulate you. I should be flattered that you would go so far to erase my influence.” 

“You weren’t the deciding factor. That old puzzle was bo-ring! I made it better.”

He makes a mental note to enforce the photography ban inside the gym. It’s not like Giovanni walked in there himself. He’d have sensed that noxious cologne, along with that sinister shadow. Perhaps he was a Gengar masquerading as a human and all of Team Rocket was an elaborate prank.

“You’re a smart boy. It would be easy to better your pay packet, too. A fabricated vendor here or there should slip easily past the league,” he says, smirking in a way that could only suggest experience. 

“Heheh, that’s a good one. But how does this sound?”

Giovanni arches a brow.

“I’m gonna give you to the count of ten before Pidgeot blows your car over to the next street.”

“What?”

“That, or Blastoise gives it a really good pressure clean. He’ll get the seats along with that suit you’re wearing, too.”

He earns a snarl. 

“Impudent child! You wouldn’t dare.” 

“What are you gonna do?” Blue laughs, wielding his most insolent smile. “Call your grunts out of hiding? Or call an officer. Let’s see who they believe, some washed up creep in a fedora or the Viridian Gym Leader.” 

Giovanni leers back at him, inexplicably reminded of Red. 

Blue salutes in the mirror as he veers away.

Gramps has a habit of appearing when Blue least expects it.

He’s not in a talking mood after the latest string of disappointing battles. He’d met trainers who directed their Pokémon with whips. Trainers who spent more time digging through their packs than keeping their eyes on the field. Trainers who made him want to rip out his hair and taunt them in the hopes of landing one effective attack. 

But when Professor Oak knocks, all of Kanto answers.

He strolls over the deactivated floor panels, greeting Blue with an obligatory handshake.

“You’ve really livened this place up!” 

Blue decides to accept the compliment. It takes a special kind of person to liven a place tied to the most annoying crime syndicate in the world.

“It’s not half bad. Wanna see the office?” 

“I was hoping to make this a quick visit, but all right, then.” Gramps follows him down a hall paved with red carpet. “I came to see whether you’d settled in, but I’m glad to learn there was no reason to worry. The Viridian Gym is in capable hands.” 

Blue brews him a tea, offering him the black swivel chair as he stands near the desk. He’s glad he kept it. But he’s even more glad to be rid of all the framed Persians.

“You thought I’d ruin this too, huh?”

“You might not be Champion, but you have always been a hard worker. An exceptionally gifted one, at that.” Professor Oak lowers his cup. “If only you had chosen to apply yourself in other areas.” 

“I feel like I belong here,” Blue says, hoping to convince himself as much as Gramps.

“Of course. However, if you should change your mind, I have a new field of research that could use your expertise. You see, I’ve been collaborating with Professor Elm over the water in New Bark Town. There are plenty of species in Johto with missing data. Heights, weights, areas of distribution.” 

He stares at the side of a cabinet. 

“Are you listening, Blue?”

Biting his tongue, his eyes fall to the cover of an old magazine tucked under the phone.

“Johto, right?” he prompts, losing himself in the streets of Lumiose City, which hold their glitter beneath the dust. “Sounds super interesting. Tell me more.”

Like any calamitous day, it begins with a dream of Red. 

A Dodrio alarm kills the nightmare, in which he’s clinging to the ledge of a mountain while Red stands still and watches. He shouts as he slips, tumbling out of bed and hitting the floor. It’s your own fault for getting stuck in the past, he thinks, brushing his teeth too hard in the mirror. Like that loser Giovanni.

He snatches a coffee and hurries to work, eager to get on with the day. It’s all he can do to forget the pressures of the League. Or the latest headline warning of seismic activity on Cinnabar Island. Or his latest missed voicemail from Daisy. 

His first opponent happens to be from Blaine’s gym.

The trainer sends out a Rapidash with a flaming, billowing mane.

Blue stifles a sigh. “Blastoise, c’mon out!”

Blastoise roars upon touchdown.  

Blue opens his mouth to give the first order, when out of nowhere, the room rumbles beneath him. Blastoise lurches, holding his gaze, and as quickly as it starts, the tremor ends. Across from them, the Rapidash spooks, rearing up on its hind legs and scattering flames from its tail. 

The trainer shields his face as spots of the arena blacken from the heat. 

“Whoa, easy, girl! You’re okay! We’re off the island now!” 

“Call it back!” Blue warns. 

On cue, the sprinklers kick in, showering everything and everyone on the floor. The fire dies. But this does nothing to calm the Rapidash. It kicks and screeches, barging the wall until it disappears in a flash of red. 

“I’m sorry about that.” 

“Don’t be. That’s what we’re built for.” 

As if to prove Blue wrong, the sprinklers groan, shudder, and burst, gushing torrents all over the gym. 

He pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Shut it down,” he says to Elan and Ida. “Gym’s closed for repairs.” 

The power cuts, and the trainer sheepishly bows, honouring Blue’s promise of a rematch tomorrow. Assuming his Rapidash has calmed down and Viridian City isn’t under water by then. 

After a gruelling hour on the phone, Blue looks over the gym, his disaster gym, which is cold and dripping and exactly the mess he first walked into. He stares up at the Earth Badge, mired in useless facts about Johto, when the wall gains a shadow. Whoever it is can’t be good, he decides. 

“Congratulations. You win. Everything sucks.” 

There’s no answer. 

“Gramps?” 

Blue whirls, coming face to face with Red. 

“… Oh.” 

Red mhs softly in greeting.

“What are you doing here?” 

Nobody’s seen him. Not since he won the Championship. He shouldn’t be here. But he is. 

Red gestures around the dark, wet room and blinks, curiously. 

“I had everything under control, you know.” Blue huffs. “It’s just a bad day. That’s all.”

His voice cracks on the last word, followed by a rush of heat that fills him uncontrollably. He glares at the floor, determined to play it down. He does a very good job of it until Red grabs his shoulders. Blue shrugs him off, and loses. 

“I’m fine.” 

The look in Red’s eyes dims to match his own. 

“I don’t need your pity. It’s not like you could’ve pulled this place out of the gutter. Viridian’s back on the map now! And it’s all thanks to me!”

Red’s arms wrap over his back, yanking and trapping Blue to his chest. Blue doesn’t fight, his voice muffled by Red’s shirt. 

“No one cares about this stupid town. Not without Team Rocket. It was working… I made it look easy…” 

The stress shivers out of him as Red strokes his back, firmly, evenly, his heart thudding slow and strong against Blue’s ear. He feels his fingers snag on his back, then his sleeves, drooping around his waist where they slow to a halt. Blue soaks in the warmth of it, the smell of it, the ridiculousness of it, and forgets himself for as long as it lasts. 

He can’t remember the last time anyone hugged him. He supposes it must have been Daisy, but not like this. They’re a dangerous thing. Once it ends, he’ll want another. 

After an incalculable amount of time, Red steps back. His eyes convey a sadness that stretches beyond the hug, and his grip falls away with a twist of his mouth. It’s only been a few weeks, but the gesture imparts something chilling and finite in his chest. Blue snuffs out the thought, telling himself it means nothing. 

Red was weird. Everything he ever did felt like that. 

“Why’d you drop in anyway?” 

Red emphasises his point at him. Blue interprets this as him being special in some way. 

“You and Gramps can’t believe it, huh. Well that’s fine. I’m gonna keep on keepin’ on. You should do the same.”

He answers with a deep nod and an mnh.

“I expect a challenge once this place is back up to speed.” Blue flashes his most inviting of smiles. “That last Earth Badge dealer was a pushover. Until then, smell ya later.” 

He tilts his head as Red faintly smiles, lingering before he walks towards the too-bright exit. Blue wonders where following him would lead. But more importantly, he has a gym to run. With an exhale, he presses the phone to his ear, gritting his teeth. For his next trick, he’ll be expediting the repairs. 

He’s not sure when Red will be back.

Perhaps next month. 

Perhaps next week. 

Perhaps even tomorrow. 

All he knows is by then, the Viridian Gym will be restored to a shining beacon for any Champion to be.