Chapter Text
They had been walking side by side for hours. Gary hadn’t said a word. His jaw worked constantly, his brows drawn tight together. His stride was stiff, his eyes fixed straight ahead. Ash had tried to talk to him a few times, but Gary hadn’t even looked at him. From the outside he probably seemed calm, cold even. Inside, he was boiling.
Gary had never been good at expressing his feelings. The stronger they became, the quieter he grew. Ash knew that pattern well enough by now not to push him. Probably for the best.
Gary replayed the last two days in his mind again and again. First Oreia—that girl. She had tried to seduce Ash. Gary had seen it plainly; he hadn’t needed Mamé to point it out. But she’d been biting granite. Gary could have told her beforehand that she was wasting her time. Ash had never been a romantic. He saw people as teammates, companions, friends—nothing more. Gary had never once seen him seriously interested in someone. Not in school, not afterward. No crushes whispered about in the schoolyard, no secret glances. There were probably plenty of admirers—Gary certainly thought Ash was a catch—but Ash either brushed them off or didn’t even notice them.
And Gary had been perfectly fine with that. Ash as the eternal bachelor—just like him. They had each other. As long as Ash wanted no one, Gary never had a reason to feel jealous. Until this morning. Lucien. The name echoed in Gary’s head. Shamelessly, the guy had thrown himself at Ash. And Ash hadn’t even noticed. Typical. Lucien would have circled him for a while, eventually realized Ash didn’t see him that way, and moved on.
That’s how it should have gone. But Ash had actually responded to that cheap flirting. Worse—he had seemed to enjoy it. That had been too much. Gary had to step in. For days—weeks—they’d been hiking through the wilderness together. Sleeping on the ground, sharing adventures. Gary had tried to get closer. Even Ash had been sending mixed signals. But nothing ever happened. Aside from a few innocent touches that Ash probably dismissed as friendly gestures—nothing but hot air.
And then this random field researcher showed up with his pushy charm and wrapped Ash around his finger in a matter of minutes. That was what broke Gary. Not that someone else had been faster or more direct than him—but that it had worked. As long as Ash showed interest in no one, Gary could tell himself it wasn’t about him. But Ash’s reaction to Lucien had made one thing painfully clear. It wasn’t Ash. It was him. Ash just didn’t see him that way.
The sun was already low when they reached the edge of another forest. The tension between them hung heavy in the air. Ash tried to lighten it.
“We’ve still got food from the village feast,” he said. “So tonight we can actually eat well.”
Gary responded with nothing more than a grunt and a shrug. Ash pressed his lips together. His fist tapped lightly against his thigh while he tried to decide what to do next. To keep busy, he gathered firewood and cleared their campsite of stones and sharp branches. Gary set up the tent. His movements were mechanical, almost automatic. He seemed completely elsewhere. Ash wondered what was bothering him this time. Throughout the trip Gary had slipped into bad moods now and then. Ash had never taken it personally. Gary had never been easy—moody, competitive, sometimes arrogant. But as they grew older, things had improved. Gary had matured, just like Ash had. And Ash had learned how to cheer him up when he was down. To be honest, he even enjoyed it. It kept their journey interesting.
But this time was different. He had never seen Gary look this dark. Usually by evening his anger had burned off and he’d talk again. But not tonight. Tonight he had said only the bare minimum—and Ash wasn’t even sure if the occasional grunt really counted as speaking.
“Still tastes good reheated,” Ash said, stirring the food in the plastic container they were using as plates. The small pot with the leftovers hung over the weak campfire on an improvised tripod.
Gary barely reacted. He nodded once but kept staring into his bowl.
“Are you never going to talk to me again?”
“Don’t know.”
Finally—his first word in hours. Ash felt a wave of relief but tried not to show it.
“Could you at least look at me when I’m talking to you?” Ash said carefully, keeping his voice calm.
Gary exhaled heavily and scraped his fork along the bottom of the bowl. For a brief moment his eyes flicked toward Ash’s face—met his gaze—then slid past him again. That moment was enough. Ash saw it immediately: something was crushing Gary. His eyes shimmered slightly with moisture. His throat moved as if he were trying to swallow a lump that wouldn’t go down.
Ash shoved another bite into his mouth, using the chewing to buy himself a few seconds to think.
“What’s wrong?”
Gary flinched slightly. His fork rattled against the container. For a moment he looked at Ash like he’d forgotten someone else was there. His lips pressed tight.
“Nothing.”
Ash poked absently at his food, which was already going cold.
“Did I do something wrong? Is it about the Flygon?”
“No.”
“Then what? Because the trip’s almost over? Are you homesick?”
Gary shook his head, staring down. Ash drew a deep breath.
“But something’s bothering you. I can see it. You know you can talk to me.”
“Maybe I don’t want to talk to you about it.”
“You know I’m not going to drop it,” Ash said, attempting a small grin to lighten the mood.
Gary dropped his fork with a loud clatter. Uh oh.
“Oh, you want to talk?” Gary said sharply. “Fine. Let’s talk.”
Ash already knew he wouldn’t like what was coming.
“What was that this morning?”
Ash frowned, replaying the morning in his head.
“Do you mean earlier in the village? In the bedroom?”
Gary waved the thought away impatiently.
“No. Not that.”
Ash mentally ran through the day again—the hike, the valley with the Flygon. Gary rolled his eyes.
“I mean that fanboy. Your new admirer. Lucien.”
He spat the name like it tasted bad.
“What about him?” Ash said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh yeah—‘what about him?’” Gary mocked. “Is that what you do every time you meet someone? Hand out autographs and start getting touchy?”
“Are you serious right now?” Ash snapped. “Are you jealous of my success or something?”
Gary waved his arms wildly.
“I couldn’t care less about your stupid title!”
“Then I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Ash’s patience was starting to run out. Gary set his bowl aside and stood up.
“Oh really?” Gary said. “Let me refresh your memory. ‘Oh Ash, you’re so tall and strong. And handsome. Girls—and boys—must be lining up for you.’”
He mimicked Lucien’s exaggerated tone with a twisted expression.
“He was just being nice!”
Now Ash stood up too. He hated when Gary talked in circles like this. It had been happening all day—and sooner or later everyone had their limit.
“Of course you’d say that,” Gary muttered, eyes narrowing. “Of course you wouldn’t see it.”
“SEE WHAT?”
“That’s exactly like you,” Gary said quietly, his voice suddenly cold. “You hurt the people around you and you don’t even notice.”
“If the people around me would actually say something, maybe I could do something about it!” Ash shot back. “Instead you just—do nothing. You don’t talk. One minute you’re mad, the next you’re not. And I’m constantly wondering: Did I do something? What’s wrong with him now? I’m getting tired of it.”
“You’re tired?” Gary stepped closer. The firelight cast harsh shadows across his face. “What do you have to lose?”
Ash blinked. “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Gary let out a short, bitter laugh.
“Of course you don’t.”
He rubbed his hand over his face as if trying to wipe something away.
“You know what the worst part is?” he said quietly. “You don’t even notice when someone’s standing right in front of you.”
Ash frowned. “Gary, I—”
Gary looked up. In the firelight, a thin wet line glistened on his cheek.
“I thought we were friends.”
“I thought so too.”
Ash wanted to take the words back the instant they left his mouth. Too late. He saw Gary’s expression change. He stood frozen for a moment. Then he spoke.
“Maybe we should think about that.”
He paused.
“Alone.”
The last word echoed in Ash’s head. Alone. His vision blurred. It felt like someone had lowered a glass dome over him and the world. He tried to move, but it was like wading through thick honey. His heart pounded in his throat, blood roaring in his ears. As if watching a movie, he saw Gary grab his backpack and swing it over his shoulder.
“Gary, wait…”
The words sounded like a desperate plea. Ash grabbed for his elbow—but Gary knocked his hand away.
“Don’t touch me.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. Stay. Please.”
Gary turned and walked away. Into the night. Ash reached out after him. Pikachu darted forward, trying to follow Gary—but Umbreon snarled, ears raised and fur bristling. The small yellow Pokémon stopped short.
Ash and Pikachu could only watch as Gary disappeared into the darkness, Umbreon close at his heels, until the night swallowed them both. Ash clenched his fists.
Alongside the despair came another feeling. Anger. Anger at himself. Anger at Gary. Anger at this whole damn journey. He had thought they could finally become friends again—like they used to be. But maybe he had been wrong. They were adults now. Things couldn’t be the way they once were.
Frustrated, he kicked a stone aside and swore under his breath. The forest was silent. Only the crackling fire remained.