"I'm going to be honest here, Gloria. We may have been childhood friends, but that doesn't mean that I'll be going easy on you as a rival! I have to continue Lee's legacy, after all!"
Classic Hop. With his thin build and purplish hair, it's really hard to imagine him going hard on anyone. That's not to say he isn't lovable… in a pathetic sort of way, but he's less "intimidating" than he is "cute." Especially when he's in your living room watching reruns of Pokemon battle tournaments while your mother prepares you a quick snack.
"Well, You're the expert, Hop," I say in a vague attempt to seem like I'm paying attention, "so if anyone can beat me, it's you."
Another thing about Hop: he's not very… well, he's not very perceptive. I don't know if it's a consequence of him living in such a small town or just an inherent trait, but he is terrible at receiving social cues. Once, I tried to tell him that I couldn't go to his seventh birthday party, and he took it as an invitation to mine. My birthday was three months before his.
Okay, maybe he's just an idiot. A lovable idiot. A persuasive, lovable idiot.
"Woah, Gloria, check this out!"
Onscreen, I see a massive Charizard absolutely incinerate… something. Whatever it was, I'd be surprised if it was still standing.
"That's called Dynamaxing! Or, actually, it's Gigantamaxing, but I'll get to the difference later. Basically, Lee's Charizard just tapped into some sort of weird power beneath the stadium, and it grew huge!"
Onscreen, once the smoke fades, all that's left on the battlefield is a very crispy Eldegoss and the Charizard, which shrunk down back to normal size (or as normal as a Charizard can get). I don't really care about that, though. What really catches my eye is the winning trainer on-screen.
"Oh, it's Leon!"
Hop grins. "Yep, that's Lee! Looks like a rerun exhibition match, though."
Suddenly, his smile fades, and he checks his phone. "Oh, wait! He's finally gotten to the station! We gotta meet him there!"
He jumps up from the couch and makes a beeline to the door, nearly tripping on his own feet as he scrambles to leave. Before I can process it all, he's already gone. For someone who can barely communicate, Hop sure can run.
"I'll be waiting by Route One! Tell your mother thanks!"
Right as I shut the door behind him, my mother walks in with a tray of sandwiches.
"...did he already leave?" she asks, placing the tray down on the coffee table.
"I think so."
"Well, I know he didn't eat breakfast, so bring him a sandwich, okay?"
After a quick run into the kitchen, she brings me two brown sacks with a sandwich and an apple in each. "Be sure to keep him safe, okay? He's got the spirit, but he's a bit dim sometimes."
"Will do, Mom. See you later!"
I grab my rucksack and our lunches. "Oh, and Hop said thanks."
I step out and shut the door.