Disclaimers: Pokémon and its respective characters belong to Nintendo and Satoshi Tajiri. Only the OCs belong to me.
Author's Notes: I am not even going to pretend that this isn't another one of those aged-up "Drew and May have unresolved feelings" fics. And I do mean "aged up" as they're thirty or so in this fic.
History
"You and I have history, or don't you remember?"
Petalburg City has always had a fair amount of people milling about thanks to the Gym. Trainers and Breeders alike would arrive to either study the Hoenn Pokémon or to battle for a Gym Badge. But the city has never seen this much activity or this many people before. Then again, could anyone blame the droves for wanting to take part in the first Petalburg Pokémon Contest?
The Contest is why he is here after all. Or at least, that's what he tells himself as he walks into the Contest Hall to register. Before he can even reach the counter, a high-pitched squeal rings throughout the building. The source is an overly excitable Nurse Joy leaning forward from behind the counter, her eyes wide and shining in glee.
"Oh my goodness! I can't believe it! You're the Drew Hayden! Five time Grand Festival Champion!" She breathes in awe, momentarily forgetting the other people waiting to sign up as well. "You're actually here! In Petalburg City! First Solidad, and then Harley, and now you! Won't Vivian be thrilled!"
Drew suppresses a grimace, smoothly managing a confident smirk instead as Nurse Joy continues to rattle off names. It seems a slew of famous Pokémon Coordinators are either going to join or have already joined. He recognizes most of the names, having competed with and against them throughout the past two decades. But when the pink-haired woman finally realizes she has a job to do and stops her chatter, Drew feels his chest tighten.
Because Nurse Joy did not mention a certain brunette's name. Which is odd considering this is her hometown.
Rather than ask why, Drew simply goes about the business of registering as quickly as he can.
"Is that all you need?" the nurse asks with a bright smile.
"Yes, thank you," he nods, accepting his ID card.
"It's a shame the person who made this Contest possible isn't here. I'm sure she'd be just as excited as I am!" He manages to catch before the rest of Nurse Joy's chatter becomes white noise to him as he heads for the exit. His hasty departure isn't done out of spite or arrogance.
Drew has been through enough contests to know it wouldn't be long before the media arrives. Not that he has any difficulty in dealing with the press but he isn't in the mood to answer prying questions that would undoubtedly have nothing to do with Pokémon Coordinating.
"Drew, did you really change your mind about not joining in the Sinnoh Contests because a certain brown-haired Coordinator from Petalburg is one of the crowd favorites to win it?"
"Is there any truth to the rumors that the numerous bouquets of roses the Princess of Hoenn constantly receives after Contests are from you?"
"Mister Hayden, can we get your comments on whether or not your series of victories can be credited to a special someone?"
"Some of your fans have dubbed you the King of Roses. Do you foresee a Queen in your future or is it a Princess?"
"Word on the street is the Princess of Hoenn has found herself a new Prince. Is that why we haven't seen the two of you participate in the same Contests?"
Eventually, the questions became too annoying, forcing Drew to use his fellow Coordinators as a shield. More often than not he's seen with Solidad and the chartreuse-haired young man is grateful for his pseudo-mentor's sense of discretion. Unfortunately, wherever Solidad can be found, Harley is certain not to be too far off.
Drew doesn't mind the eccentric Coordinator. He can even go so far as to say he likes the purple-haired man. Except when the reporters are present. While Solidad rebuffs the prying inquiries, Harley encourages the questions. Dear Arceus, Harley actually has questions of his own.
"I heard she asked you to accompany her through Johto but you turned her down." Harley pouts, lightly rapping his knuckles against Drew's head, "Oh Drewby, what is going on in that grass-head of yours that you'd say no?"
It takes the combined efforts of Solidad and Drew's glare to get Harley to drop the matter.
But why did Drew say no? Logically speaking, journeying together decreased their chances of earning ribbons as they would be competing in the same contests. And though it pained him to part ways, he truly believed it was for their own good they went their separate ways. He explained his reasoning with hard eyes and a firm resolve. She tried to hide the hurt and disappointment behind a wordless nod and a small smile.
Not too long after they parted, she became known as the Princess of Hoenn and became eligible to compete in the Wallace Cup. Any nagging thoughts Drew had that he might have made the wrong decision disappeared.
They kept in touch, sort of. Whenever one is featured in a television special about a Contest, their PokeNavs would beep and alert them someone was calling. Congratulations were exchanged, as are condolences, and encouragements, and teasing. Especially teasing. Drew wonders if she will ever be able to curb that short temper of hers. Part of him wishes he was there in person because there was just something thrilling about watching her try to contain her anger. Her slightly crestfallen and sheepish expression when she realizes he was just baiting her doesn't make for a bad sight either.
But then he reminds himself why they were apart in the first place and he relegates these thoughts to the back of his mind.
Drew isn't certain when their calls started to become fewer and farther in between. Then, one day, they stopped calling altogether. The last time he tried to contact her he was answered by the strained voice of her younger brother stating she'd forgotten her PokeNav at home.
No, he doesn't know how she could forget.
No, he doesn't have a clue when she'd be back for it, what was he, her mother?
No, she doesn't know either, look, don't you have a Ribbon Cup you should be getting ready for?
Why yes, Drew did have a Ribbon Cup he had to get ready for. He had thought perhaps he could invite her to a practice match before they met as official competitors. But it looks like she's already busy doing that by herself, he'll just see her at the Contest Hall.
Her younger brother says nothing more as he hangs up.
And Drew does not see her at the Contest Hall.
He does not hear about her on the television or read about her in the newsletters or magazines.
Not because he doesn't look but because, well, the Princess of Hoenn seems to have disappeared from the Coordinating World entirely. It happens. It has happened. There have been many Coordinators who, despite being at the peak of their career, would simply stop Coordinating.
It disappoints and disgusts him to think she would be added to their ranks. He tries to hide this from Solidad and Harley but they know him too well. They can read the frustration in the tight pinch of his mouth and the anger lurking in his sharp green eyes whenever the subject inevitably comes up. The pair of older Coordinates only exchange glances and give him advice about not being too harsh on her.
"If she did stop, she must have a reason. They all do, Drew," Solidad chides.
"Tsk tsk, I'm disappointed you have so little faith in her, Drewby. You think my little Cookie would give up Coordinating just like that? After everything I did to her when we were young -erm, younger she never threw in the towel."
Their words do little to comfort him or quell the building sensation of abandonment.
"If you really want to see her that badly, why don't you go to her hometown? I'm sure even if she isn't home, her parents would have some idea of what she's up to."
"And just why would I be interested in seeing a quitter?" He snaps, voice so cold frost could form on his lips. "I have better things to do with my time than worry about someone who has taken herself out of the running."
He goes out of his way to avoid Petalburg for the rest of his journey. He reasons he has no purpose to pay the small town a visit. He isn't interested in Gym Battles and Petalburg has no Contests for him to compete in.
Except now it does.
Briefly, Drew debates whether he should pay the Gym a visit, using the excuse that the Petalburg Gym is the city's original claim to fame. Should he come across any familiar face, well, it's just a coincidence. But as he brings Roserade out to accompany him, a Torchic suddenly darts out into the open.
The chick Pokémon at first is unaware of Drew and Roserade, chirping and flapping its wings, looking very much like it is trying to find a place to hide. When it finally notices it's being watched, Torchic puffs its chest out, eyes growing saucer-wide and chirping like mad.
"I don't have time for this," Drew mutters, both he and his Pokémon beginning to walk away when he hears a voice call out for the fire Pokémon. From the corner of his eye he spots a little girl heading towards them, a Budew struggling to keep up with her pace trailing behind her.
"Torchic! There you are! What have I said about going off on your own?" the child scolds, scooping up the chick Pokémon into her arms.
A wave of familiarity washes over Drew and he finds himself openly staring at the little girl. It isn't because of the red bandana on her head. Nor the way her black hair, short-cropped in the back and long in the front, frames the sides of her face. Nor even the fact she has a Torchic.
It is because of her blue eyes.
He's seen eyes like hers before. He's seen them misting with sorrow and tears, burning with passion and determination, bright with happiness and joy. He remembers staring into them so intensely he sometimes thinks he'll drown in their depths.
The little girl finishes chiding the chick Pokémon, raising those blue eyes of hers to look at him. "I'm really sorry about Torchic, Mister. She didn't bother did she-AH!" she suddenly gasps, pointing a gloved hand at Drew while her jaw hung agape. "Y-y-you're-!"
"Mel! Mel, where are you?" Another voice calls, a woman this time. The little girl seems too stunned to answer so her Torchic cries out on her behalf.
A shadow suddenly looms overhead and the air sharply displaces as a tall Pokémon lands. Both Drew and Roserade instinctively move forward to stand between the little girl and the new arrival. It is a Blaziken, eyes narrowing dangerously, the flames on its limbs flaring in warning. It gives a low growl before blinking, smoothly shifting out of its battle stance to a relaxed posture, a hand giving the chartreuse-haired Coordinator and his Pokémon a friendly wave.
Seeing the blaze Pokémon's change in demeanor, Roserade, too, calms down. Even giving an elegant greeting with a flourish of its bouquet arms. Drew stares in confusion at the display between the Pokémon for a moment until the Blaziken's trainer arrived.
He drinks in the sight of the woman running up to them, instinctively noting every tiny detail about her. The length of her brown hair that reach just below her shoulders, her attire of loose fabrics that drape to flatter the swell of her breasts and the flare of her hips, her stance that shows no awkward self-doubt, no hint of being an easily flustered child over two decades ago. She's changed so much; she could easily pass herself off as a complete stranger.
But then he sees her eyes. And he recognizes her in a heartbeat.
"May," he breathes.