Author's POV
Hop wasn't really feeling in tip top hip hop shape today. Nobody really was, not after everything that happened.
He cleared his throat, glancing back at his floating Rotom Phone as he mustered a smile. "How're you all holding up, gallivanting Galar gang…?" He was almost tempted to say 'grieving' instead, but he knew the other two were out and about. Gallivanting better than him, at least.
He felt peculiar about the space he was in. Seated by a quiet desk, in a silent room, lined with bookshelves as far as he could see. The plant dome nearby was nice at least, as was the sleeping Yamper at his feet. It wasn't as if this place was unfamiliar to him in the slightest, it just felt so bizarre to sit still after spending so much time shooting for the stars.
"Spikemuth is Spikemuth," Marnie responded through the video call. She was leaning against a streetlight. "I'm lucky enough to have not been as affected by what's happened. Still gonna take a while before I'm officially Gym Leader, but the process has been goin' smooth. I'm pretty excited to show off my outfit once it's all done."
"Definitely sounds quite better than Ballonlea's state, at least." Bede frowned from his very pink room that probably smelled of perfume. "There's still quite a big mess left around the stadium, and unfortunately the old bat's old Gym Trainers aren't suited to large-scale cleanup. Not that I've never gotten my hands dirty, but I'd rather not return to my glove-wearing days."
"Field work, eh? Least, it sounds like it." Hop chuckled. "Wish I could take your place, mate. I volunteered to watch over Sonia's lab today while she and her new assistant took off, which just leaves me in drowsy old Wedgehurst."
"You? Take my place?" Bede raised an eyebrow. "Unless getting pampered and coddled by old ladies and quizzes alike is your forte, then I'd advise you to think twice about what you just said. For all my complaints, I know that nobody else is suited for this position than me." Prideful as always, that Bede.
"Haha. Maybe you're right. It's not all bad here." Though Hop's smile was calm, his eyes lit up with a bit more interest as he looked at the papers on the desk. "I mainly pitched in to help out because I was interested in seeing what they figured out about everything. Could say I know a thing or two about the Darkest Day. Nikki's documentation is immaculate, she knows how to work that camera, but maybe I ought to make some revisions on those written notes of hers…"
Hop got to work doing just that, lining things up and taking out a pen he tapped against his chin. It was a good thing Sonia left him a cuppa to help him concentrate. All the while, his Rotom Phone hovered nearby, and he could feel the pairs of eyes peering over his shoulder.
"Ha. Nerd. Hop's bein' a nerd again." Marnie teased him, like she always did.
"Hmm. What she said. Studious one. High-marks achiever." Bede also teased him, but he still wasn't any good at it.
"Laugh it up all you want, you lot." Hop could only snicker alongside them. "I just find this stuff fascinating and I wanna help out with research, alright? It's not like I got any important Gym Leader stuff to do like you two."
"I still have much reason to envy you. Being able to ease your worries by residing in such a southbound location. While you're at it, you'd be a perfect fit as a Ballonlea library patron."
"If only you were there readin' with me and Flare that one time."
Hop chuckled. Maybe when he didn't have anything better to do. It wasn't as if Hop had anything important to do. Not much reason to set out, leave Postwick, anything like that. He didn't want to lose himself in the sluggishness that came with not knowing what to do.
All he had done lately was wander. But not all who wandered were lost… right?
He took another lengthy tea sip and tried occupying his thoughts with those hastily written history to avoid a specific question. It was Marnie who brought it up.
"Have any of you gotten in touch with Flare yet?"
It hurt to hear. Judging from the pause in Marnie's voice, it hurt to say as well.
"None such from my end…" Bede's expression faltered similarly. "I've even tried getting in touch with her mother, but it seems Flare is still stuck in her room."
"I tried the same…" Hop held back a sigh as he looked away. "I know she gets shaken up sometimes, but it's never gotten this bad." But at the same time, he didn't blame her for shutting herself away after such an incident. He knew it all too well.
"That's… a real shame, it is. It was postgirl I was lookin' forward to showin' my Gym outfit, even." Marnie's gaze trailed away, but the worry in her voice was still evident. "This is the first time since Wyndon that we got this much free time to ourselves… Was kinda hopin' we could've all come together for some Spikemuth karaoke or somethin'."
"Not what I expected, but I'm not totally against it." Bede prideful smirk was familiar. "I appreciate the invitation all the same. Perhaps, when the time is right, we here at Ballonlea could arrange an esteemed party for you all to stop by. I'd get to show you all just how much I've mastered Opal's theatrics."
"When you mates put it that way, you're really giving me a run for my money here." Hop was almost bashful about it. "Dunno if it means much in comparison, but if you lot ever decide to stop by Postwick, you can be sure we'll have a mean barbecue with your names on it."
"Oh, wicked!"
"Who am I to say no to such pleasantries?"
"Yep yep!" A Yamper yipped.
Hop was tempted enough to grin back at his friends, though he was almost left recoiling in his seat when the Yamper at his feet woke up and leapt up at him.
"Sonia warned me about this…!" As Hop teetered in his seat, he tried reaching for his phone, which only swerved out of his reach thanks to the yipping youngster. "I gotta go take Bow for a walk! Let's talk again some other time, alright?"
He was sure he heard some affirming responses before the call cut short, but it was hard to tell with the excited pooch clamoring for outsies. Before the ball fetching menace could cause a ruckus, Hop took his sights to the afternoon outside. He made sure to lock up the place well and proper, all while hauling a Yamper that was still gnawing at his trouser leg.
Bow calmed down considerably after that. Hop looked upon the bricked Wedgehurst paths, facing the quiet town before him, and he felt himself ease up a little as well. It helped that Wedgehurst was a nice, spacious area, with sidewalks wide enough so that nobody would bump into each other. He walked alongside the little electric munchkin, soaking up that fresh air as he took those steps down those brick roads. It was a nice quiet day, and he was half-tempted to lean his head back in his arms.
While a tad more bustling thanks to supposed publicity, this serene corner of Galar was still as sleepy and peaceful as it always was. Despite what the storm's illusions led Hop to believe, Postwick and Wedgehurst suffered the least from the effects of the Darkest Day, so the destruction didn't leave as much broken ground to repair. Broken ties, on the other hand…
Even looking down at Bow's carefree and wagging little tail, he resisted the urge to sigh as he gazed towards paths departing Wedgehurst. He can imagine how hard things have been for the people closest to him. There was still a worry that never went away, all about the incident that took Sev. But not only that, ever since that 'champion battle', even if she played no part in it, Hop's own Boltund still remained inconsolable from the disaster that happened there.
The past Dynamax incidents separated a lot of friends who grew up together. Hop thought about how Twigs must've felt. Hop thought about how Heart must've felt. He hoped in his heart, for all that he fought for and survived through, that the deal with Flare wasn't going to end up like that.
It didn't help that somewhere, far away from Postwick and Wedgehurst alike, Leon was lying in a bed somewhere, still recovering from the wounds and exhaustion that befell him. Nobody knew when or if he'd ever return home. Hop was still waiting for him to get back in contact somehow.
The brother he aspired to from the beginning, one he aspired to surpass, was stuck in recovery. The first friend he made, one he watched grow throughout this whole journey, cooped herself away from the world. Which just left him wandering for what to look for next. A friend? A brother? A guiding flame? An idol? What purpose awaited him if he was left in the shadows of people who were no longer there? Would he just wander and wander until-
As if an alarming flash of red appeared in his vision, he snapped out of his thoughts when he bumped into somebody. He was about to cry out in surprise, up until he blinked and realized he wasn't imagining the red.
"Heavens! Well, excuse you!"
Right before his eyes, Hop was faced with an outlandish figure before him, a suit of the reddest of reds with a hairstyle that was… interesting, to say the least. Even after the bump in the middle of the sidewalk, the man's smile was tight-lipped. It was odd to see such a rich-looking guy in this corner of Galar, but Hop assumed he was one of those fancy celebrity types nobody heard about, here to soak up Wedgehurst's newfound tourism, maybe.
"Awestruck by appearance, are you?" The man in red spoke, and it was right when he flashed a hint of a bright grin that Hop realized he forgot to blink. "'Tis only natural, so I'll let it slide. I couldn't help but notice your gaze was set on that Postwick town yonder. Hailing from there, I presume?"
Hop blinked. He made wayward glances to make sure Bow was still nearby, but all the while, the man in red's insistent eyes stayed fixated on him. "Got that right."
"Postwick, hmm." The man sounded unusually intrigued as he craned his neck there. The side profile didn't make the hair look any better. "Speaking of, do you happen to know when Champion Flare will be available to talk? We have some… important things to discuss with her."
There was an undeniably greedy look in the man's eyes as he said that, and that put off Hop's mood. "We? Flare's not seeing anyone right now, let alone any bunch here to ask her questions." He narrowed his eyes, feeling almost defensive in his tone. "She's been through a lot lately, and she needs her rest. No paparazzi stuff right now. If you're just here to bother her, then bugger off, would you kindly?"
Hop's scowl was met with another one in return, but fortunately, other than a 'tch', the man went quietly. Hop kept an eye on him until he was sure he was far away from the path to Postwick, and when he was done seeing red, he sighed.
He figured there were definitely harsher things he could've said, that man's sense of style would've been too easy, but he was relieved he held as much restraint as he did. Foggy as his mind was, his shielding instinct was certain of one thing. He wasn't going to let anyone bother his friends anymore.
… foggy?
Hop felt the sudden urge to clutch his head. His gaze was still on Postwick, until it drifted towards the path to the Slumbering Weald. Its mysterious opening almost beckoned to him like a beacon, urging him back there. The vision of that shrine resurfaced in his thoughts, the single piece of clarity in the fog. There was something important that continued to call for him there, but what was it? Answers? Urgency? Unfinished business?
It suddenly occurred to him that he still had the rusted weapons. Both the Rusted Sword and the Rusted Shield. Flare entrusted hers to him after the Darkest Day because she didn't have her backpack. All this action with Leon's wounds and the championship battle gone wrong had him forgetting he still had those. The wolves definitely wanted them back, but at the same time, something about his senses told him they wanted more than that.
Whatever it was, it would have to wait. Hop looked down and saw Bow clamoring at his shoes, itching for some more walkies. Couldn't go taking dangerous foggy walks with a good boy following him, no sirree.
As he turned his back to Postwick, Hop still chanced a glance towards the weald that called. For once, he felt a sense of adventure and purpose bubbling back up as he looked back. But that trip was for another time, another day, he thought. Those research notes weren't going to clean themselves up.
"What an unpleasant encounter that was."
"I was able to observe as much."
"Perhaps I should've tried beckoning him down a scary alleyway."
"Suggestions like such are why I'm in charge of the planning."
Despite being on the receiving end of Hop's glower, the man in red did not heed such warnings accordingly and waited for the coast to be clear. Road turned into grass, and after some snooping, he followed into a bush where he accompanied his accomplice in crouched wait.
The man in red kept a hand on the back of his hair as he followed his brother's gaze. "Has your recon yielded any noteworthy results, at the very least?"
The man in blue held a disgruntled frown behind his binoculars, both at the lack of activity before him as well as the way his hiding spot didn't accommodate his much needed hair space. "An unfortunate lack of activity as usual. Not one peep, as if she disappeared into that house and never emerged again. Which is strange, because I don't recall a construction team ever building a place of residence this far to the south."
"How long must we continue to wait?" The man in red sneered with a similar frown. "Can we not march ourselves up to that front door and confront the household directly?"
"As if she'd simply hand over the Rusted Sword. If she even still has it. It wasn't in her pack." The man in blue shook his head with a growing scowl. "I doubt a simple questioning will be enough to get us what we need. Our methods must be subtle! We've set all the dominoes this delicately, after all! The people of Galar have already set their eyes on the Pokémon legends of old, but perhaps the time has come to bring our own eyes elsewhere!" With that tone, he stood up, the bushes parting with his sharp movement.
The man in red watched with piqued curiosity, matching his height. "What do you propose, my magnificent older brother? Do you suppose someone else carries the weapons? Perhaps that mysterious saboteur, he who always manages to get in the way of our plans? The one we thought we had driven away at Route 10, perhaps returning with a vengeance?"
"A likely possibility, my adorable younger brother!" The man in blue held a devilish grin. "However, we shall continue to observe. We shall regroup to gather our resources, and return with a plan of action. The rusted weapons are associated with the supposed legendary heroes, are they not?"
"Oh, yes, quite! Is that not why we seek to obtain them in the first place? To complete our trifecta that will bring our vindication and prestige?"
"It's plausible that whoever currently possesses the weapons is another Pokémon-loyal plebeian. That being said…" The main in blue cast a furtive glance to a path less traveled. "It is inevitable that the time will come that said plebeian will arrive here to return such oh-so-renowned artifacts to their oh-so-renowned owners."
"Which is us?"
"Which will in turn end up with us, after some intervention, of course." The man in blue adjusted his bowtie before turning to Wedgehurst. "Recall our attempted trip to the weald more slumbered, and the utter audacity those Pokémon had in rejecting our noble birthright despite us being able to make it to that shrine. We'll show them what they rightfully deserve for such! Now, to our base of operations! When we return, we'll be ready to keep watch and face whoever comes for the weald!"
Both suited men took to a hurried stride, carrying revolutionary paces into the streets of Wedgehurst, earning them perplexed looks in the process.
"Incredulous stares…" the man in red muttered aloud. "Do these people know any better? I do believe I shoved past an irrelevant old fossil. If she has anything to say about my fashion sense, I can say similarly about her cane!"
"Try not to let these uncultured ones get to you. Those eyes will turn into stares of admiration soon enough!" The man in blue assured him. "Come hither! For history doesn't favor the idle!"
