"Clockwork" – Autopilot Off

Drew rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you're scared."

May glared. She wanted to say, "I am not!" and maybe something else that, for once, would leave Drew at a loss for words.

But, instead, she sighed, her brows loosening. She looked out the window, watching the clouds that crossed the sky. They obscured the sun, though that didn't stop its light from trying to shine through.

Drew frowned. He saw the distant look in May's eyes. His voice grew quieter, softer: "There's nothing to be scared of, May."

"It's just…I'm finally being recognized as a top coordinator."

As if to prove a point, May grabbed the magazine and slid it across the table to him.

Drew stopped it with his hand, glancing at its cover, seeing her picture on it, and the words. Those words. 'The Top Coordinator of Hoenn' they said. Those were the very words May had spent the past years trying to achieve, and they were finally hers, long before he could even gain such acknowledgement.

He wasn't jealous. They were rivals in coordinating, but he was happier for her than anything else. After all, beyond rivals, they were friends, so seeing her sitting across from him as if those words she worked so hard for had been given to someone else…

"What's wrong with that?" he finally asked, her prior words lingering in his head.

She blinked, breaking from her trance once more. "I'm worried about what happens next. Are people going to want more from me? Expect more? What if I can't deliver what they want? What if I lose this title in a week, a month, what if I let them all down – the people who think I deserve this?" She closed her eyes. "You're right, Drew, I am scared."

Drew shook his head. "You can't be sure of that."

"Sure of what?"

"You can't be sure of what will happen in the future. You can't sit here and worry about it. You used to do that, remember? It showed in your coordinating, which made you falter in your appeals."

May looked away from the sky, from the clouds, from the sun. The pokemon center was practically empty, though the Nurse Joy assigned at the front desk kept glancing their way, as if a celebrity had originally walked in through the doors and she was fighting herself from rushing over to ask for an autograph.

"How can you be so sure that I shouldn't worry?" she asked, looking back at Drew, meeting his emerald, dragon-like eyes. "You've always seemed so certain of things, even back when we first met. How can you be so…sure?"

Drew shrugged. "If I don't know what's going to happen, why should I be scared? I know I can't stop time from passing, I can't stop the future from coming, but I can take a hold of it, tackle whatever it throws at me, and hope for the best."

"Hope for the best…" May said. She hummed thoughtfully. "I've told myself that a lot of times, but, here, now, with all of this, I can't bring myself to do it again."

Drew smiled an assuring smile. "Maybe it's just because you're under a lot of pressure, and you are. That, I agree with you on, but I also know you can't live scared over things you're not even certain about. Besides," he added, "I'll…be here, you know. Even if everything crashes down around you, I'll help the best I can to get you out of the rubble."

May met his eyes. She saw the warmth in them. She smiled, too. "Thanks, Drew."

"No prob. I got your back, May, and I'll always have it." He smirked. "That's something I happen to know for certain."


"I Can't See Myself" – Valencia

"I'm…sorry."

May stopped. She looked back at Harley, eyes widened. "W-what?"

The man shuffled weight between his shoulders, awkward, tense. "I'm sorry, May, for all those things I did to you back then, when you were starting out." He sighed. "I thought, now that we've been through – what, half of Johto? – together, I think it's time I need to say it."

May opened her mouth, but no words came. She looked at the ground, her eyes darkening. "Harley…"

Drew and Soledad, oblivious to the conversation, or the fact that Harley and May had even stopped, continued along the road, chatting about the next contest. Harley preferred it that way. It had been hard enough mustering up the courage to pull May to the side in the first place.

"You're a great coordinator," he said, "even if I didn't want to believe it at first. You were amazing at the Wallace Cup, and you were amazing even before that." He smiled weakly. "So…can we call an official truce now?"

If Drew had heard any of this, May knew that he would've told her to be cautious. An apology was rare from Harley, and, considering the past, was more likely to be a scheme in disguise than an actual expression of emotion. Though Harley had been fair since they crossed the halfway mark of their Johto coordinating tour, it didn't stop the possibilities that malicious intent was in the air.

"If you don't want to believe me," Harley said, seeing the hesitance in May's eyes, "I understand. Sometimes, I don't even understand why I get so…you know, jealous and stuff. Not to mention I-"

His voice stopped, as he felt a pair of arms slide around him. He looked down, seeing May's emerald-colored bandanna, the said teenager laying her head against his chest. Her embrace was warm; it felt nice against the chilly air of the evening. He hadn't even noticed her come forward, too worried about her reaction to his words to see the reality beyond.

But, now, May was embracing him, of all things she could've done.

"It's okay, Harley," she said. She tilted her head, still on his chest, so her sapphire eyes met his metallic blue-green ones. "I forgive you."

Tears pressed against the back of Harley's eyes. He wrapped his arms around her.

"Hey, May, Harley, you coming?"

Drew's voice echoed from down the path. May and Harley separated, and May tossed one last smile at Harley before she turned and ran to catch up with her other rivals.

Harley stood there, exhaling slowly. Then, he smiled, and moved ahead to follow May, Soledad, and Drew.


"Mugs Away" – Seven Nations

Drew swallowed. "Uh, I'm not so sure about this."

Harley grinned. "Oh, come on, Drew. You're twenty-one as of tonight – the legal drinking age for the Hoenn region."

He pushed the glass of whiskey toward Drew, who took it, staring at the yellowish-brown liquid inside.

"Bottoms up," Harley said, pouring his own glass. "Now that you can drink, we can sit at bars and get some bromance going. We can have conversations about coordinating, or pokemon we've seen, or how complicated politics is getting. You know, all that stuff usual bar buddies talk about."

"Ya-huh, and you can't do all this stuff with Soledad because…?"

Harley frowned. "She's too busy. And she doesn't like bars. She says they smell funny."

Drew sniffed the air. He made a face. "Can't say I blame her."

"Come on, Scooby-Drew! You only get to live once! And you're seriously too serious for your own good."

Drew opened his mouth to retort, perhaps throw out one of those statistics he read about in magazines, which explained how many famous coordinators had lost their careers to drinking. And bar fights.

But…

He looked at the drink.

He sighed.

"One drink, Harley, nothing more."

Harley grinned again. "Okie-dokie!" He raised his glass. "Mugs away, then?"

Drew rolled his eyes and brought his glass to his lips.

"Mugs away."