Sometimes Iris wished that she had never beaten Alder. It wasn't like she didn't expect the judgement; you can't please everyone, after all. It happened with every champion for the first few months. Jokes about Lance's cape, Steven's rock obsession, Cynthia's always-there winter coat. The jokes about her hair had finally ended—mostly.
Stinging much more than the petty jokes was the constant criticism.
"A champion needs to be more serious! Like, intimidating. You're too childish!"
"I bet Drayden bribed Alder…"
"Geez, who is she trying to copy? Insecure much? She's just a weaker Lance."
It didn't seem to matter how many challengers she beat, or how she tried to change her demeanor to something more mature. Then they'd say...
"What's up with you lately? Where's the cheerful Iris we know and love?"
It had been three years since she had become champion, yet the words felt just as grating. I wish I didn't care. But she couldn't. If this was bad, then the consequences for going against it would be worse. It would mean disappointing those who had believed in her so much in the first place. I'll keep trying. Iris wanted to ignore how weary the thought came out, especially the anger layered beneath it. Their good intentions and support were an unfortunate chain keeping her in this miserable position.
I know they don't mean to, but I hate this. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate this. Iris let her eyes drift down to the tabloid in front of her.
The Subway Bosses: The Real Unova Challenge
Time for the League to Disband!?
Stuffing her mouth with toast was the only thing keeping her from groaning aloud. After washing it down with apple tea, Iris stood up. But even so, I can't give in! Turning toward her team, she took a breath to ready herself. "Alright guys! After breakfast, we're going to Nimbasa City. We'll show them how strong we really are!" A smile grew on her face as she heard their determined cries. They could do this. She could do this.
Now, to get ready.
It wouldn't do to just walk into the Battle Subway. Where there were champions, there were crowds. And I am really not in the mood for that today. Iris studied her disguise in the mirror. Her hair was relaxed into a cascading side-ponytail. When paired with the fake glasses, it gave off a science-y impression. At least that's what she hoped. Maybe the dress shirt and pants combo would seal the deal. As long as I avoid dressing like usual, I should be fine.
Yes. She would just be another trainer with the whole science-analytics gimmick challenging the Battle Subway. If I can beat them, or at least one of them, maybe everyone will accept me. I can feel like a champion is supposed to. The tabloid's cover flashed in her mind. Nails dug into skin. Her mouth twitched into an ugly frown.
I won't lose!
/
What a pain.
A streak of twenty-one battles wouldn't be that tough. It was annoying that she had to do it in order to get to the real challenge, the Super Trains. Then another forty-nine battles, with the last being a Subway Boss at their full power. "At least I can get an idea of how they fight," she grumbled.
/
Iris plopped down on the station bench and twisted the cap off of her berry juice. Eight seconds was all it took to empty the bottle. It had been suspiciously easy. So many trainers had some unorganized trio of unevolved pokemon. Items thrown on without much thought. Are they taking this seriously? She shook her head. No. It's unfair to say that. Everyone had introduced themselves with honest passion, and fought hard with their pokemon. Even when they lost, their emotions didn't falter. How did they not feel discouraged? I was pretty merciless. Iris cringes slightly, remembering the way Hydreigon ravaged all those poor pokemon.
There was a purity to it, the ability to remain sincere despite being utterly overwhelmed. It reminded her of when she was Drayden's apprentice. Heh, I was embarrassingly earnest as a kid, wasn't I? She felt herself deflate a bit. When did she lose that feeling? "Maybe," Iris whispers almost imperceptibly. "Maybe I could…"
The screech of the train signals the final train on the Single Battle line. The train! She jumps to her feet. As a Subway Boss, Ingo will be tough, even in a warm up fight like this. Tossing away the bottle, she smooths out her shirt and entered the next train. With a precise pivot, maroon eyes meet gray.
"Welcome to the Battle Subway. I am the Subway Boss Ingo."
Ingo gave a slight bow. Even while not directly looking, Iris could feel his eyes still on her. Is he trying to intimidate me? Well, I'm not going to back down! Narrowing her eyes slightly, she channeled all of her frustration into her gaze. I'll prove all of you wrong!
"My, my. It seems I have quite the intense trainer today. What is your name, miss?" Dull gray suddenly flashed with amusement.
"Siri." The grand reveal would come later. On that forty-ninth battle.
"Alright, Siri it is."
/
Ingo wonders what the right move would be. He has dealt with all sorts of passengers on the ride back to the main station. The talkative Ace Trainers and Pokéfans. The boisterous Roughnecks and Bikers. Even the flirtatious Lasses and Rich Boys. It is normal to be upset when defeated, but to be fuming upon victory...This is new.
"You won, but you don't seem happy." He says it with a careful nonchalance, but his eyes are intent on an answer. The woman sits across from him, arms folded. With quite the acidic stare. Her arms tighten their grip. "You were just playing around." The words are practically spat out, paired with the same accusing gaze. Ingo can't help but chuckle. What can I say? It's true...to a certain extent. "Yes, but does that really excuse all this hostility?" Leaning forward and perching his head on his intertwined fingers, he hopes to find answers through observation.
"Yup." Not even a micron of change in her expression. Interesting.
The analytic types usually chose psychic type or inorganic-based pokemon for the Battle Subway, but Siri's pokemon were all dragon types. She's trying so hard. Perhaps too hard. Why? Before Ingo can even open his mouth to ask, the train comes to a stop. He expects her to leave in an angry huff, but she strides towards him, her eyes locked on his. She leans forward.
He can feel her hot breath on his lips, Fire blazes in her eyes. She stands resolute, with even breaths and a steady stare. Not anger, but— His suit feels uncomfortably warm; the heat crawls up his neck, filling his cheeks with color. He tries to interject, break this spell. But everything is parched. Mouth. Lips.
"Fight me next time."
And with that, she turns and exits, leaving him in a daze. It's determination. And how could anyone deny such a sincere will. You can't. Letting out a breath he hadn't even been aware he was holding, Ingo turned his attention back to himself. I should compose myself. But how to proceed?
He tries to loosen his tie, but the heat still radiates from his skin. Perhaps the air conditioning is malfunctioning today. Hah. And so, off goes the coat.
...
Now the gloves
...
The hat!
...
Well then. Stripping of anything else would certainly be undignified. It's still there though. He can see the flush of red in his reflection in the opposite window. Could it be possible tha—No. Absolutely not. Let us derail from such an unprofessional line of thought! A challenger is a challenger. A brief clashing of wills, nothing more. And with that thought, he began to compose himself.
/
This time she activates the Vs. Recorder. A trainer's Vs. Recorder is linked to their trainer ID, so even with the disguise, her identity should be obvious.
"Alright, I'm ready." I mean, after a buffet's worth of battles, I better be. She made sure to stand up tall and shoot out her most piercing gaze. One rivalling those of her beloved dragons. And am. She takes in the monochrome man standing before her. It looks like Ingo took my words to heart. Unwavering eyes are locked with hers, his face flushed with emotion. Gloved fingers already have a pokeball ready to go.
"Welcome back, Siri." He pauses, almost too long before continuing. "I...I want to know your destination. That which drives you to keep on winning. Know that I will exert every possible effort to battle with you!"
No way. Seriously!? Iris is still, mouth slightly agape. She returned her Lapras to its pokeball.
"Yes. Yes! YES! YES! YES!"
Fist pump and jump for joy! Disguise be damned! Let the glasses fall off as you're jumping. And don't care when they shatter from your jumping with a satisfying crunch, and—Iris get a hold of yourself. I know you're excited, but Ingo is staring at you and you've just made a mess with the glasses...Yeah, you should probably explain now. "Ah, um. Sorry about that." She begins, attempting to subtly sweep away the broken mess with her foot. "It's just…" A deep breath now. "I'm Iris, you know, the Unova champion." Iris couldn't help but say that part a bit bashfully. After all these years, after this, she should feel comfortable saying that. So why…?
"I don't know if you know, but there have been rumors recently that the Subway Bosses are stronger than the League." A sigh. "Stronger than me," she admits. "I just—I wanted to prove that I earned my position. That I deserve to be here!" Iris nervously runs her fingers through her hair. Little tugs every few inches. "So the disguise. It was to avoid being recognized. I mean that's obvious, but it wasn't just to avoid unwanted attention." The words fly out before her brain can catch up.
"I miss it. Being able to battle without having to worry about what everyone thought about me. To enjoy a battle because it's a battle, not because if I win people will acknowledge me." She looks at him imploringly. "You feel the same way too, right? At least sometimes?"
It takes a few moments before he can formulate an answer. "Well, the Battle Subway exists to test one's limits. 'Battles for the sake of battles' is certainly a part of what Emmet and I were trying to capture when we created this. We feel that self-improvement is best gotten when fueled by one's self, rather than by the fickle wants of others." Placing his arms at his sides, Ingo bows apologetically. "I am truly sorry that we have influenced such demands. We know how it feels." His gaze turns distant. "Being forced to live solely by the expectations of others is no way to live. For humans and for pokemon."
Willing himself back to the present, a warm smile appears. "I am glad though, that the Battle Subway was able to remind you of that wonderful feeling."
Iris smiles back. "Yeah."
"If you ever wish to escape from the pressure of your League duties, you are welcome here anytime. I would love—I mean, it would be a pleasure to see you again, Iris." He extends a hand towards her. "I would be happy to guide you through the lesser known entrances and exits of the Gear Station, since you seem to want to keep a low profile," he adds quickly.
"Thank you. I'd love that!" It would be nice to have a sanctuary other than her flat. Looking at Ingo's face, the offer was clearly a sincere one. Ah, his face. His cheeks seemed to be quite flushed, and his eye contact was wavering. Is he afraid of me? Well, I guess if some intense stranger suddenly showed up, broke something, and suddenly emotionally unloaded on me, I would be a bit nervous too. To be so generous despite all that...He must be a real gentleman! She eagerly grasps his hand between both of hers.
Ingo desperately tries to hide his face with his collar.
/
It had been quite the day. Or, quite the end of the day, so to speak. He would normally never be so intimate with a challenger, but…
Ingo sighs as he places his conductor uniform into the station locker. Iris had been so determined, almost desperately so, to prove herself. For champions, there is always the pressure to excel, but there is a fine line between 'continuous improvement' and 'not good enough.' He wondered if she had anyone supporting her at home. If she did, then surely, she wouldn't have come here.
"I hope she can find relief here."
"Are you talking about that woman you escorted out of the Super Single line's maintenance tunnel?"
Ingo turns sharply to his right, only to meet his twin. Impossible! He had personally ensured that no one—
Emmet smirked and held up a finger. "Security cameras, my dear brother." His eyes gleam mischievously. "So…" he continues, leaning against the adjacent locker dramatically, "Here I am, ready to clock out for the day, and my dutiful, punctual brother is nowhere in sight! 'Just what is he doing?' I wondered. Many challengers have been using stalling tactics lately, so I thought you might be caught up in one of those lengthy matches." His smirk grows. "But what do I see? My brother getting all hot and bothered just from having his hand held. Just who is this woman, Ingo?"
At least he didn't see my embarrassing display before that. "She is suffering, just like we were once, but unlike us, I am not sure that she can escape like we did. So, I offered to have the Battle Subway be a place of refuge."
"I see. I can accept that, and I'll even accept that you won't tell me her name," Emmet returns to standing and jabs his finger towards him. "But, you have admit the other reason why you want her to come back."
Heat creeps up his face. He does not want to admit it. That feeling. That rush of emotion that is completely disproportionate to his interactions with her. "I might have developed an infatuation…" he mutters. Ingo locks eyes with Emmet. "However, I will not allow that to interfere! It would be her choice to reciprocate. I want to do this for her sake, not so that she'll return such feelings."
Emmet's smirk melts into a smile. "Always the gentleman, aren't you? This is both touching and interesting, so I think I'll help out too. Send her to the Double lines next time. I want to show her the wondrous world of double battles~. Don't worry, I will put in a good word for you too."
"Thank you. I'll mention it when we meet again."
"Which is?"
"Next week. We will be meeting at the Super Single line's maintenance tunnel." Ingo glances at Emmet with suspicion. "You're not going to do anything strange, right?"
"I promised to help, not hinder." He throws on a grin for good measure.
"I suppose I will just have to trust you then," Ingo sighs.
/
It feels good to just wear a casual outfit for once. No fancy gowns, or stuffy dress clothes. The weather is also nice; it's the perfect amount of cool. That's double mood points~.
Just in the distance Iris can see Ingo examining something. Right next to the maintenance handcar appears to be...a gift basket? Curious, she dashes towards him. Upon closer inspection, she can see that it contains some pastries, bottled water, and fresh Moomoo milk. Looks good!
"Hey Ingo, did you make this?" She turns to him expectantly, but it seems that he is busy reading the note placed inside the basket. Um, maybe not?
Ingo facepalms with a groan. "Sorry Iris, I know exactly who's responsible for this." Iris huddles close to read the note in his outstretched hand.
~*Complimentary Snacks and Beverages for our Dear Guest*~
Please put down any requests for other items here:
...
...
...
If you have any questions about this service, please contact (XXX)-XXX-XXXX
Filling in this form gives you a chance to win a special prize!
Please fill in the following info so that we can contact you if you win:
Name:...
Xtransceiver Number:...
"Such a transparent attempt to learn her identity! Seriously Emmet?!" She hears him exasperatedly mutter under his breath.
He turns to face her, head bowed. "Please allow me to explain. Emmet saw us on the security cameras last week, and interrogated me about it. I wasn't sure how much you would be comfortable with me sharing, thus I shared as little information as possible. Emmet promised to help make the Battle Subway feel like a safe zone for you."
Iris giggles. That's pretty sweet of him. "I see. He is your brother, so I understand him being curious. I think I can forgive him knowing my identity as long as I can keep having these delicious snacks." Reaching into her bag, she takes out a pen.
Ingo gapes at her. "But he tried to get your number!"
"Yeah, to cross-reference with my name, probably," she murmurs, focused more on filling out her request for apple-based items. Apple candy. Fresh apples. Apple milk tea… "Or are you implying something else~." As if a Subway Boss would be interested in her, in that way. "Here, I'm done filling it out." She hands the paper to a tomato-faced Ingo. Wow. I didn't know a face could get that red.
"I-It's not that. I believe that Emmet wanted your number so that he could, uh, well, give it to me..." He trails off, averting his eyes. Oh?
...
Ohhhhh. This would explain all the blushing. Woah. Uh. I am not sure how to proceed. "So, um, you like me, huh?" Real smooth, Iris.
"Y-Yes, but you are under no obligation to return such feelings! And I honestly want you to feel at ease here in the Battle Subway." He steps back. "I...also understand if that makes you uncomfortable. If you would like, you don't have to see me in the Battle Subway," he says, trying to mask his dejection.
Iris shakes her head. "I still want to see you. You've been so kind, and you actually listened to me." She closes the distance between them. "As for the whole romance part…" Maroon eyes meet gray. "I could give it a try."
"Thank you. Uh, I mean, wonderful. Um." Ingo fidgets. "Truthfully, I am not quite sure how to respond without it sounding awkward," he admits.
That's pretty cute. Iris laughs, "How about you accept my number first?"
With that he relaxes. "I can agree with that." He pockets the paper, and collects the gift basket. "Shall we go?" Linking arm with arm, Iris smiles. "Yes."
Author's Notes:
Random ships have a bad habit of getting stuck in my head...This was inspired by some shipping artwork from a wonderful artist, Mujinai. A lot of other random things got mixed in as well, I guess. Like how the Battle Subway is more challenging than the Pokemon League in the games, and the gossipy nature of some of the National Inquirer (one of the channels you may encounter when you interact with a TV in Pokemon BW and BW2). I honestly did most of this while procrastinating on studying for a microbiology final, but I am happy with how it turned out.
Italics are mean to show a character's direct thoughts. I tried my best to keep tense and the third person POV consistent. I hope I was at least partially successful.