AN: I am definitely late to the Kris/Lyra loop genre. (Is that what it's called?) Those fics, where Kris gets reincarnated or transformed somehow into Lyra, were popular when HGSS first came out.
In the beginning, Kris was elated. This was apotheosis.
She was always alienated back home, too interested in books and pokemon to ever truly connect with other humans. "If you didn't go to a trainer school like this," a youngster told her once, "you'd be-"
"Ostracized?" she offered. His apathetic tone stung, but she desperately needed to know why the few people who tolerated her suddenly pulled away.
"That's a kind way to put it."
And now, she ruled over two regions, with the support of the entire Johtan pantheon.
But the euphoria quickly disappeared. For her whole life, she wanted nothing more than to reach the top of the world, to show New Bark Town that she was better than them. Now that she sat on the Champion's throne, a desperate loneliness gnawed at her soul.
Ruby carried the mantle much better than she did.
It did not surprise her. He radiated the aura of someone who grew up beloved and admired. Unlike Kris, whose only redeeming trait was her icy blue hair, he was physically beautiful and stood up straight. He looked dashingly regal, in his fitted red jacket and jeweled belt.
Ruby was the sort of boy who ignored her back in school. But they were both child champions now—he nineteen, she fourteen—connected by the unbreakable bond of being traumatized and absolutely hating their jobs.
"It really wasn't what I imagined," he shrugged. He always smiled, though it rarely reached his eyes. "Too much protocol. I just wanted to battle. I'm pawning it off on Wallace."
"Oh?"
"Four years is enough for me," he said. "Wallace was a popular Champion, and he actually wants the position."
"Lucky you," Kris grumbled.
"I know, right?"
"What do you think you're going to do afterwards?"
"Contests, and then coordinator coaching."
Kris could see it: Ruby and his swampert, pinned from head to toe in ribbons. An ugly ball of envy ballooned.
She considered leaving, almost daily. There was that girl a few years below her, who was promised a tenure track position in Cherrygrove upon finishing her doctorate. That could—should—be her, Kris thought bitterly. She always wanted to be a pokemon professor, until she was consumed in the ratrace towards Indigo Plateau.
"Does Lance have any plans to return?" Ruby asked.
"No," she sighed. "He's done this time."
"He came back after Red."
"Red was never inaugurated. I was. And well, Lance already made plans to take over the Blackthorn gym. It's not like he can back out. His uncle's been ailing for years."
She pondered how, if, she'd explain the Johtan desperation. Lance remained eternally popular in their motherland, no matter what he did, because he was their first Champion in a good century. He delighted in the fact that his successor was born and raised only a few hundred kilometers south from his own beloved Blackthorn. Neither he nor Kris would take well to the prospects of a Kantan successor, especially after Lance fought so long against Kantan hegemony.
It was futile to try and explain. Hoenn had its moments of weakness, but it never doubted, not even for a year, that it could lose its cultural identity.
"So basically," she said instead, "I'm trapped."
The years passed like the ticking of a clock. Slow and steady, each second indistinguishable from the last.
Pretending became easier. The Champion's mask molded to her face—that wanderlust suddenly vanished, and she could finally bring herself to smile wanly whenever someone proposed thinly-veiled pokemon cruelty—and sometimes Kris found it stuck. The emptiness disappeared after exhausting days of Indigo politicking, and sometimes Kris could trick herself into happiness.
And then in the most mundane of moments, it would hit her. Excruciating, vivid details, reminding her of all that she lost.
She remembered that righteous fire in her heart and her long-lost dreams, of starting her own lab and finally understanding the nuances of trade evolutions. It was a lofty goal, but certainly attainable if she'd dedicated herself to it. After all, she documented every species in Tohjo and discovered eight more, all at the ancient age of twelve.
She suddenly missed Gold and Silver. Gold had been her best friend since they were five. But after she stood him up for the tenth time, he confessed that he had neither the energy nor desire to deal with her post-Champion rages and moods. Silver gravitated towards strength, so he stuck with her longer. He would give anything to be her. Even then, her growing emotional distance, combined with his latent jealousy, finally drove him away.
But she could not turn back time.
Kris was in the eighth year of her reign. The gods—Ho-Oh, Suicune, Lugia, Celebi, all the Legendary Beasts and Birds—all found her worthy. The region praised her prudence and kindness. Her win streak grew to unprecedented lengths. She even defeated Red, trainer of the legends.
She would kill to undo it all.
"Have you ever considered becoming a Champion?"
Morty raised an eyebrow. "Not particularly, no. I'm very satisfied in Ecruteak."
She used to think him a cloying has-been looking to live vicariously through her. But he was really only five years older than her, though the age gap seemed massive in early adolescence, and she learned to appreciate his cynical worldview and honest character.
Besides, his psychic insights were invaluable.
"You looking for a replacement?" Morty joked.
Kris grimaced. He instantly turned somber.
"You could abdicate," he suggested. "Or purposely lose, though I understand if you dislike all your challengers."
"That's not true. I do find people I respect. Whenever a trainer in Tohjo is up-and-rising, I watch all of their battles and interviews. I consider throwing battles, all the time." She hesitated. "But it doesn't matter how much I plan to lose. When the real battle starts, something takes over me. It's really weird. It's like I'm moving too fast to really control what I'm doing, and then before I know it, I win."
"A sophisticated form of autopilot, then."
"I guess. Yeah. There are some battles I really shouldn't have won."
Without Eusine to fill the void, they sat in soothing silence.
"You know what I don't understand?"
"What, Kris?"
"If seeing Ho-Oh brings you eternal happiness, then why the hell am I stuck? I see him every day. I used to tell myself, 'Success requires struggle,' and thought, 'Oh, maybe one day I'll get it, and everything will be hunky-dory.' But it's been almost a decade, and it only gets worse…"
Morty poured some more tea for her.
"I wonder this myself," he admitted. "To see Ho-Oh supposedly grants eternal happiness. But to see him in the first place, you must be the prophesied trainer who brings him back to Johto. Being the Chosen One: that sounds like more of a curse than a blessing, doesn't it?"
"I clearly didn't think so when I was ten." Kris sighed. "I wanted nothing more than to be the best. I was ecstatic when I touched the Rainbow Wing and it just bloomed. I thought I could die happy, when I beat Lance."
"I understand. I used to believe that all my problems would be solved if the gods selected me. I remember, when I was little, wishing that I could trade all my happiness for...glory, or maybe all the knowledge in the universe. I'm glad I was never offered that deal."
"Yeah, I probably would have taken it too. You know, I always knew deep down that I didn't want to be a Champion. But I wanted so badly to show everyone that I was better than them, and that they would regret being mean to me. I guess I was kind of weird back then? I used to kick my pokeballs and talk about seel intercourse. But I don't think I deserved to get bullied."
Morty agreed.
"I originally wanted to be a pokemon professor," Kris continued, "or just...Any occupation that focuses on working with pokemon. Hell, even being a gym leader would be an order of magnitude better."
"I can't really disagree with you there. It's not a perfect job, but I'm pretty happy." He frowned suddenly. "Hey, I just had a thought. I haven't really thought it through-"
"What?"
"Maybe Ho-Oh's blessing is a mankey paw. It technically grants you eternal happiness, but not in a way that actually makes you happy. Imagine if it only considered what you wanted when you first met Ho-Oh."
Kris blinked, considering his words. "Oh."
"I looked into this years ago, mainly out of curiosity. And I noticed a pretty clear trend. Most of the people who were 'blessed' were older and probably knew exactly what they wanted out of life. The others wanted safe things anyone would want: financial stability, happy marriages, long lives, illustrious pokemon and kids, et cetera. Of course they all died happy."
"Yeah. You can't really go wrong with any of those things. And if you did feel dissatisfied with your life, you could look at your pokemon and family and convince yourself everything was okay…No, that makes perfect sense." She swirled her teacup. "Looking back, I think my idea of eternal happiness was sitting on top of the world. I never wanted to worry about winning again."
"And you've never lost a battle since. Right?" Morty frowned. "Still, Ho-Oh seems to be a kind god."
"He gets moody."
"He is a bird, Kris."
"Right."
"What I'm trying to say is that...He has to know that you hate your current life. And there's something so fundamentally cruel about an 'eternal happiness' that can't be modified."
"Oh god."
"What?"
"I asked Lugia about this, actually. She told me she didn't understand exactly how Ho-Oh's powers worked, and also that she didn't believe true happiness could be granted just like that. Oh god, that makes sense. I can't lose battles or screw up bad enough to get impeached because there's some supernatural force hanging over me-"
Kris buried her face in her hands. "This is so fucking stupid! I was ten! How was I supposed to know what I wanted to do for the rest of my life?"
Morty's eyes filled with an uncharacteristic pain. "Kris-"
"And you know what makes it worse?" she laughed. "If I was the trainer chosen by the old prophecies, then that means all of this was unavoidable. The Rainbow Wing was a trap. As soon as I touched it..."
"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have pushed y-"
"No, you're good. The only thing that would have helped was to stay in New Bark. No pokemon journey, no gym challenge, no nothing. It was all over as soon as the Kimono girls hunted me down, and that was...after Violet."
The blond gym leader nodded.
They paused for another few moments, basking in the Ecruteak breeze.
"Can Celebi help?" Morty asked.
"Oh, I tried. But fairies, you know how they are. Celebi says it doesn't take requests from anyone who asks. Apparently it screws with the passage of time. Doesn't stop it from zipping anywhere it wants, though," she added resentfully.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "There's nothing I can do or say to make you feel better, but if I can...Just let me know."
"Maybe it'll get better," forcing optimism into her voice, "and I just need to ride it out."
They both doubted it.
Another year passed.
A man named Tobias, armed with Darkrai and Latios and a slew of ancient legends, challenged her for the throne. Kris was elated. It would be an amazing and fitting last hurrah, and then she would be free. Instead, she defeated him 4-0.
She had to be cursed, she thought as she shook his hand. If not even a trainer like Tobias could topple her, then who could?
Kris grew reckless. When criminal syndicates or rampaging pokemon terrorized the region, she threw her all into it. Recoup some of her former excitement, maybe, even if it came with the price of injuries or death. But she would feel so awfully empty afterwards. And instead of remarking on her brutal carelessness, everyone praised her dashing, heroic style.
She blamed herself for weeks before coming to her senses. It wasn't her fault for wanting greatness—who didn't?—or even giving into peer pressure. No, the problem was that the fates marked her for 'greatness', and she suffered the worst for it.
Ho-Oh looked at her morosely when she finally spilled her heart to him. She always struggled with reading birds—Falkner helped her with catching some of the airborne dex entries—but she could have sworn his trill was apologetic.
"It's not your fault," though she didn't fully believe it. "I don't hate you at all. I'm so glad I met you. Really. I don't want to be...special anymore. I wish I-I wasn't the Chosen One." She sighed. "And that I would stop winning everything, you know? It's just plain cree-What are you doing?"
The rainbow-plumed bird was running his beak through one of his wings. Just when Kris was about to leave him to his impromptu grooming section, he handed a feather out to her. She retrieved it gingerly.
"What's this for?'
She really wished she could talk to pokemon.
Ho-Oh cawed and spread his wings around her. The aching in her soul died away.
For the first time in years, Kris felt a surge of genuine hope.
She promised Lance she would drop by later that evening. The flight from Ecruteak to Blackthorn was exhilarating. Though she could certainly afford abra teleportation, Kris always enjoyed the freshness of wind across her face. It was good for her xatu too. The poor bird sometimes got too immersed in its visions.
Seeing Lance never failed to excite her. He wasn't her childhood hero—that was Professor Oak—but she admired his strength and character. More importantly, he alone understood her.
"You arrived at a bad time," he said, preparing his cape. "There's a swarm at the Lake of Rage."
"I can help," she offered, and so she found herself back in the air.
They flew over the Ice Caves, Lance on Dragonite and she on her xatu.
"How goes it?" Kris asked, yelling over the wind.
"Same old, same old. I battle challengers, some of them win, and some of them don't. The twins are getting their first pokemon soon, and the oldest is taking the trainer's exam next month."
"That's exciting!"
"Definitely! She's very close with her larvitar. It's entering a voracious phase."
"Oh okay, sounds like it's evolving soon."
Lance aged remarkably well, Kris noted. He was certainly more subdued now-parenthood did that to people-but his eyes remained lively. She could see some light patches of gray in the carmine flames of his hair, but it was nowhere as severe as Koga's streaks.
"I'm not entirely sure how she'll take care of a tyranitar," he said. "We made plans, obviously, but it's hard to say how many of them will hold up when the time comes."
"You have time. Pupitars take a while to evolve."
"Yes, they do. Food and rampaging grounds aside, I'm very excited." He broke out in a smile. "It's been so long since I've battled with a tyranitar! But tell me what's going on with you," the former Champion said. "You seem much happier than the last time we met."
"Oh, nothing really has happened. I talked to Ho-Oh earlier. Gave him a piece of my mind. Told him I was over everything."
"What did he say?"
"He just plucked another feather and gave it to me."
"That's promising. Maybe he's granting a second wish."
"Yeah. I just feel...better? Sure, politics suck, and Indigo Plateau is tedious, but I don't feel that dread I normally do when I think too hard about it. Does that make sense?"
They dove to avoid a line of spearow.
"Yes, it does. Hopefully it lasts."
"Yeah. I mean, it doesn't really change anything. I'm still praying for retirement. Would be nice to get back into pokemon research. I'd probably apply for gym leader positions too, just as another option, but there's no openings in Tohjo, and it's hard to find regions without natural-born citizen clauses."
"It would be worth keeping an eye on Hoenn, then. We speak the same language, and they're much friendlier towards foreign-born league officials than Kanto. Say, I sometimes wonder if it's right for Johto to rely so much on bloodlines. Officially, anyone can apply for an opening, but you know how it goes."
Kris nodded. Most of the league positions were kept within the old families. Olivine, Goldenrod, and Ecruteak all had injections of fresh blood a decade or so ago, but only Goldenrod remained unaffiliated with any lineage.
"I know I sound like a hypocrite," Lance continued, "since the Blackthorn gym has been run by my clan for generations, but I also can't help but wonder how much talent we're missing out on. You, Red, Gold, Whitney...None of you are related to any famous trainers, yet you're better than the vast majority of scions."
"I think about this too," she replied. "I haven't raised more trouble about curbing nepotism mainly because the current roster is competent enough, and there's bigger fish to fry. Actually, now that we're on the topic, how does inheritance work in your clan? You got the gym from your uncle, right? Is it just based on who's most competent?"
Lance nodded. "Yes. Whenever the trials come up, everyone who's eligible comes together. We automatically scratch out anyone who can't leave their current positions. And then we let the trials decide the best of a generation. They haven't let us down yet."
"Yeah, the trials are surprisingly solid. Who else is in your generation?"
"Just me."
"Just you?"
"Correct." Lance mentally counted through everyone. "My father isn't from the clan. My mother only had one brother; that's my uncle. He had a kid sometime after I was born. A daughter. But she was stillborn, and the pregnancy was rough on my aunt, so they never tried again."
They shared a poignant glance. Even in the dark of night, Lance's eyes always reminded her of fire, the kind that she and Gold used to crowd around at night. A flame that breathed life into all that it touched, and that made Kris feel conscientiously icy. Intrusive thoughts forced themselves into her head. If only Lance hadn't been so much older than her when she first defeated him.
"I'm so sorry," Kris said when the tension became unbearable.
"It's water under the bridge. I would have loved to have a playmate when I was little, but," and he pursed his lips, "it's in the past."
Lance was careful not to meet her eyes. He must have felt it too, then. It happened all the time, that sweet traitorous intimacy, and the memory of it lingered like a donphan.
Kris always felt guilty for the giddiness that inevitably rushed through her veins.
Thankfully, they landed not long after that. Kris could taste the anger in the air tonight. But Ho-Oh's aura mixed with the euphoria of seeing Lance, and she couldn't bring herself to fear the storm.
It was no wonder that Mahogany remained so small, she realized. Few things could survive the rage of the gyarados.
"How did this happen?" Lance asked. His voice sounded strangely muffled.
"We're not sure," the ranger explained. "We sighted a few gyarados yesterday, but it truly escalated this afternoon. We think there might be something fueling their anger-"
The Mahogany trainers were there too, and their pokemon beside them. A slew of Water and Ice specialists, equipped for navigating water and taking out invading dragons. Kris followed their lead and released her feraligatr. Even as she shivered under the chill gales and torrential rains, adrenaline pumped through her veins.
"They're nowhere near the city yet," Kris said. "We should catch them. There's no reason to kill."
"Champion-"
"They haven't gotten to the city yet. And I can train them."
She took to the water, and Lance to the sky. Just like old times, back when they both lived at the Indigo Plateau. Kris couldn't help but break into a grin. This was her element. She was a water witch on feraligatr's back, the waves at her fingertips.
You're going to fall if you go this fast, the sensible part of her insisted. But she ignored it. What was the use in being the best trainer in the world, if she couldn't do whatever the fuck she wanted?
Inevitably, she began to tire. The waves burned icy-hot, despite her insulating wetsuit. She should really have conserved her energy, she realized, as the familiar strings of adrenaline and magic took control of her body.
Suddenly, she remembered Ho-Oh's feather, sitting in her bag on the shore. The artifact that started it all. She swore that when it was all over, she would-
And then she was rocketing off her feraligatr, plummeting into the ice-cold water. Something hit the side of her arm: probably a Hyper Beam. That wasn't fatal. Humans, adapting alongside pokemon, evolved to be physically resilient. She'd lose access to her arm for a bit, but in the end-
Her life flashed before her eyes, and the world turned off.
Clair isn't prepared for her reaction to Lyra. She almost loses her composure, sending the girl to the Dragon's Den on a whim. In the aftermath of her disgrace, she learns to control herself, but she cannot help but watch with jealousy as Lyra claims what should have been her legacy.
She would kill to do it all.
"No one said you were the prophesied one," Morty tells her resentfully. He too would give anything to be the Girl from New Bark Town.
It's more than petty jealousy, Clair wants to scream at him. Lyra completes her, as if she stole a piece of Clair's soul. But Morty would never understand.
Those large brown eyes reawaken long-lost memories she can't remember. Catching all the pokemon in the world, rising triumphant over the Elite Four, plunging to an icy death in the Lake of Rage…
Clair feels like she's lived this life before, and she could have sworn it ended in her returning Ho-Oh to Johto.
AN: Inspired by the ~2012 "Kris becomes Lyra" fanfics, and the fact that Clair and Kris both have blue hair. In the game art and Pokemon Masters, Kris' hair is darker (either dark blue or teal). But in the anime, Marina (Kris' counterpart) has light blue hair. The exact shade ends up being a bit different from Clair's, but ah well.
Constructive feedback etc welcome. I hope that 1) it wasn't too much of a drag to read, and 2) the Kris being reborn (?) as Clair part was obvious but not too hamfisted. Hard balance. I reread this many times but still feel like there might be a plot hole somewhere.
Some notes:
1) For those who aren't familiar with this tale or expression-"The Mankey's Paw": refers to the short story The Monkey's Paw by W. W. Jacobs, where a monkey's paw grants wishes with catches. In the original story, these catches are punishments for tampering with fate. The couple wishes for 200 pounds. It seems small, and it's also all they have left on their mortgage. They receive it as a goodwill payment from their son's death. Colloquially, this expression refers to wishing for something, but 1) without thinking through all the consequences and 2) having that wish fulfilled terribly.
2) It's mentioned that Lance's twins are getting their first pokemon soon. These aren't their starters-they're younger than their sister who is ten-but it would stand to reason that a respected clan like theirs would expose them to pokemon as young as possible.
3) It'd be weird for Kris to be reborn as Clair if Clair was present in her lifetime, so Clair is not present at all. Is this an AU? I guess?