Maxie and Archie had read, somewhere, that even if people all left the Earth, you'd still see the planet lit up like a Christmas tree.
That idea - at least when they were young - that idea fascinated them.
Most of space did, in fact.
That was why, at 10 'o'clock that night - the night after Maxie turned 12 - they'd ended up here.
The pair had pushed their way through cocktail parties, lines of people waiting for a premium seat, all crammed into one space centre. Painted in neon blue light, their eyes all cast to the sky, they never noticed the two children skirting between their cliques and tables, knowing exactly where they were going. Ten days ago, the Mossdeep Space Center had announced they'd be hosting a meteor shower viewing. Thousands of meteorites would plunge through the Earth's atmosphere and burn in a shower of light, or at least that was what the website promised - and it wouldn't repeat for 22 years.
And the two both knew that by that point, they'd be adults.
Adults didn't do something like this.
...
Maxie, after a little bit of persuading and begging, managed to get two tickets. Not premium, not V.I.P, but it was enough, Archie assured him. He knew something that would help them, apparently - he didn't want to reveal it just yet.
He was like that, it made the friendship interesting.
"Are you sure we're allowed to do this?" Maxie asked, "You said this might be a little - "
"Dangerous?" Archie replied, "Like, relative to everywhere else, yeah…"
"So it'll just look cool!"
"Yeah, that's the idea!"
The new red light hit them as they left, shading everything with an eerie scarlet - the source, a huge screen behind them. A countdown to the 'Mantykian' Meteor Shower:
0 days.
0 hours.
0 minutes.
59 seconds.
With every passing tick of the synchronised clocks, the screen flashed a deep rose-red.
Everyone had already started clapping.
"Now," they both whispered.
Distracted, they let Maxie and Archie skid quickly onto a balcony sticking out from the shining, metal building. The wind picked up, rustling the ornamental plants gently and blowing fresh air into their faces. Nothing dangerous, nothing freezing, nothing that drowned out the people talking.
"How romantic, hm?"
"Pass the champagne."
"I'll drink to that!"
"Who are they?..."
Some people wondered why children this young were out here with the popping champagne bottles and masquerade masks. The drinkers. The photographers. The scientists who knew what they were doing, and had a right to be here.
Then again, Archie had brought a can of soda and two paper cups.
Maxie had stolen his mother's Polaroid camera - not that she'd notice. She never did.
And they sure as hell knew what they were doing.
48 seconds remaining.
"So Matt said he saw a little - " Archie rambled, pointing at a ledge a little to the left of the balcony fence, "What's the word?"
"Ahh... - outcrop." Maxie answered.
45 seconds remaining, the screen read, echoed by the excited crowd.
"Can you believe it!"
"Keep watching!"
"You think they have when the meteors are going to come right down to the second, or do you think it's just a trick?" Maxie questioned, eyes fixed on the display.
"I reckon it's a trick," Archie theorised, hopping up onto the marble fence.
Precariously, he slipped over the other side.
"Alright, I have an idea - an idea - what if the meteors are just Taillow flying around with lights on their backs, and that's why they look like that!"
"And that's why they have it down to the second?"
"Yes, that's it!"
"Maybe they're...space Pokemon," Archie muttered, "Did I ever tell you about that one time where I thought I'd seen the Millennium Comet, but it was actually, uh...a Charizard?
Dumbest thing I ever did," he continued, laughing heartily at himself.
"Well, you just did tell it," Maxie corrected.
"...No, no, that's not all of it…maybe later, I'll tell the whole thing - " Ari finished, "I trust you, y'know?"
"Also, I don't think you're dumb..."
"But?" Archie mumbled, reflexively.
"No buts!" Maxie clarified, "Now how do I get up?"
"Work it out yourself!"
20 seconds remaining.
With a jerk, he climbed over the fence and scrambled to reach the other side, landing in Archie's arms. The pair pressed their backs up against the side of the building, their sights on the little outcrop a few feet away.
As though Archie had practiced it, he leapt across to the outcrop, confidently. Thump - he shook the plants hanging off it. Casually, he lay on the plaster and concrete, setting himself up comfortably - before realising the other half of the team was missing.
"Maxie? You coming?"
The boy he'd come all this way with still stood at the edge of the drop.
From here, it was 50 metres to the ground, all the way down unlit and invisible.
If he were to fall -
"Just...keep your back to the wall and shuffle over."
If he were to fall, would they blame his friend?
"You'll be fine. Trust me."
He had to now.
"That's it! You're doing it!"
Now he walked along the ledge, reminding himself, don't shake, don't panic, most certainly don't cry. Not in front of him.
"Yeah!"
Plaster fell. Concrete scraped. His foot fell away, briefly, before he clung to the ivy on the metal wall and stayed there. Unmoving. 50 metres down, he swore he heard part of the ledge hit the ground.
Gently, though, a hand slipped between Maxie's palm and the wall, gripping it tightly and warmly, pulling him gently forward at his own pace.
1 foot left to go, he reminded himself.
If he were to fall, he'd either catch him or go down with him.
And 10 seconds remaining.
"There. I've got you," Archie whispered, "I've got you," he finished, as Maxie collapsed onto the firm, solid outcrop like a ragdoll, shivering slightly with fear as he always did. Sighing, he curled into a ball.
"You know, I still don't know why I jumped that," his friend commented, gazing down the gap, "Actually, that might be the dumbest thing I've ever done."
Then and there, Maxie started shivering with laughter instead.
Faintly, they could hear the echoes of the crowd counting down the final five seconds, but the pair whispered theirs under their breath, laying back on the concrete and ivy and staring up at the sky. As they reached three, they rested their heads on the other's shoulder.
As they reached one, they waited in bated breath. The sky looked clear, the moon was new, the Milky Way was visible streaking across the night but the stars stayed in place, twinkling gently. The lights on the Mossdeep Space Centre and the rest of the city slowly dimmed, reducing light pollution as much as they possibly could.
There was no chance they'd be Charizards this time, Ari reassured himself, not this time. Not when Maxie was there.
"THERE! THERE!" Maxie cried, pointing frantically.
"Where?" Archie gasped.
"Up - up there!"
"Yeah, well I know it's gonna be in the sky!"
"No, no, I saw one just up from that thing of rocks!"
"Get the camera!" Archie ordered, diving into Maxie's puffer jacket for the Polaroid and pointing it at the sky, waiting for the meteorite to show itself.
"You know how to use it?"
"You just click the button, right?"
"And then you put the picture in the pouch!"
Sure enough, streak after streak of white light crossed the sky, to cheers of the crowd behind them. Click after click of the camera, and Maxie snatched picture after picture out of the slot. All of them were black, but the pair were too focused on the spectacle in front of them.
Did any keep going through space, Maxie wondered, or did they all burn up?
None of them came any closer to the world and Ari than he'd expected, all of them fading out in the sky before they did.
"It's...really pretty," Archie sighed, in a small voice.
"Yeah!...It is!" Maxie agreed, lying down on his front.
Maxie had almost expected the shower to be over as soon as it had began. His mother had talked about how it wouldn't be worth it, how he shouldn't bother.
Though as soon as he'd mentioned he'd be going with someone, she practically forced him to go - but it was worth it. For real, this time. Worth it more than anything he'd done onstage or behind a desk.
"Thanks for letting me come," Archie whispered, putting down the camera and turning to Maxie with a soft expression on his face, "Really."
"I...Well, I - I thought it'd be good, since - "
"Since what?"
"I...don't know. I was going to say something - "
"Something about us being friends?"
"Mmhm," Maxie mumbled, hoping that that was the right response.
"Are we going to be doing that whole 'best friends forever' thing?" Ari questioned, "I heard some girls in my class saying that and then taking photos of each other. Also, they put bracelets on each other and they haven't taken them off."
"I haven't ever done that."
"So it's just a girl thing?..."
"No, no!...I just haven't had a best friend."
"Oh...nice," Ari finished, "...I thought it was."
"Well, let's do the photo thing." Maxie suggested, holding the camera precariously high above them with his hand on the button, "You can pose if you want."
Archie sat up and pulled a peace sign with his fingers in front of his face, "A'ight," he said, curling his arm around Maxie's shoulder - he froze up, confused, before relaxing and laying his head on Archie's shoulder.
"I'll take two," Maxie offered, "That way we can both have one!"
The flash of the camera spotlit up twice, projecting their shadows on the metal behind them. Maxie may have blinked. Archie almost sneezed. But in the end, even once they'd given the photographs to each other, they still hugged each other.
As the meteors kept falling, they lay back against the wall and watched, in quiet understanding they could stay there as long as they liked.
"You're gonna keep that, right?" Archie questioned, quietly.
"Of course," Maxie replied, still watching and waiting for the photograph to develop.
Of all the things he lost, he was going to make sure this was not one of them.
Of all the things left behind, he was going to make sure it stayed with him - in a drawer, in a coat pocket, anywhere.
Once it showed its colours, it would be beautiful.
...
Maxie and Archie had read, somewhere, that even if the people of Earth left it behind when it became sick, or if the Pokemon of the world rose up and took it back, or even if one of the meteors they watched struck the Earth - the Earth would go back to normal. Maxie had read that the light from their camera would travel out, out into space forever, but on Earth, it would go out. For a few weeks, the Earth would still be lit up like a Christmas tree, but it would move on without them. That idea - at least when they were young - that idea fascinated them. But of course, no meteor struck the Earth that night. Children grow up, people change, things get forgotten, whether that's a good thing or not. As they grew up, that statement carried...connotations. For Maxie, it would have been fear and motivation to continue with whatever plans for humanity he scrawled on the back of letters and laid out in speeches. For Archie, it would have been confirmation and hope that what we did wasn't for forever. Maybe we could turn back time. Maybe humanity's debt to the Earth could be forgiven. That being said…
That idea - now that they were older and wiser - that idea started being fascinating to them again. Maxie caught himself thinking about it as he stood on the deck of the Mossdeep Space Centre, 22 years after he'd last visited it. He was where he had always dreamed of visiting as a child, in the same room as rocket scientists, astrophysicists, gigantic screens with graphics and wireframes all of the same thing - an asteroid supposedly headed for the Earth. He must have had presentations to do, messages to send to people he worked with, speeches to speak, astrophysicists to consult in the most un-excited manner he could manage, and conversations to have where he would skirt around the stars, evade the topic of the apocalypse. Even though his inner child screamed out in joy, he'd decided when he came in that he wouldn't show it. People somewhat looked up to him now, he couldn't do that now. But if the world were to end now - theoretically - and all humans were to disappear - again, theoretically… Would it be appropriate now to show Archie the tiny, underexposed Polaroid photograph he still held in his pocket? Sentimental, it would have been. Childish, even. But up to this point, he had broken more age-old promises between them to count. "Hey, Maxie!" called a familiar voice from close behind him - "What'cha got there?"