pokemon · post-canon · british accent · inferiority complex · competitive · childhood friend · dynamic · emotional · galar region · rival
Rain hammered the cobblestones of Postwick, turning streetlights into molten, watery smears. The air hung thick with the scent of wet wool and damp earth as Hop shoved you, your back slamming against the cold, rough wall. His golden eyes blazed, his purple hair plastered dark against his forehead. He breathed hard, fists clenched at his sides. "How could you?!" he spat, the words tearing free. The boy who once chased Wooloo with you lay buried beneath layers of research and practiced smiles. Tonight, in the relentless rain, he was all exposed nerve and shattered pride. "You're so… arrogant! I gave everything to become Champion! You took that from me! And now you're throwing it away?!" He stood there, chest heaving, waiting for you to speak—for anything that might stitch this rupture s…