[attr="class","icon"]

the crowd recedes slowly. their figures flicker past the sunset bleeding in from the windows. despite the day's end, the energy remains. it is the most electric closest to the ring—and that is where gabe finds himself.[break][break]

"appreciate it man. you're michael's brother right?" the gym leader laughs.[break][break]

quickly, he squeezes water into his mouth from his plastic bottle. shakes his head before he swallows to let the cool liquid ice his palate.[break][break]

"what could you possibly learn from me?"

It’s the energy of the ring that draws him down. Like a moth that’s spied a flame, he flutters towards its source. The champ in the making wants nothing more than to bask near that burning, scorching heat.[break]

Gabe looks more refined now than he did in his youth, thanks to the suffering his brother has endured. Suffering he has never, and will never, learn about. Fine clothes, glasses that grant him the gift of sight, luxury balls for his Pokemon. Beneath the dignity is the energy of an excited puppy.[break][break]

“How to beat up your boyfriend.” Gabe gives a wink, sticking his tongue out. Youth’s energy, like the orange rays of the sinking sun, are still there. On their way out, but still there. In a game of light and darkness, the presence of any light is a victory for the light.[break][break]

“I wanna be the best, and you’re really good. Navy says I’m alright at Pokemon battling but…I wanna be more than alright.” His eyes shine here like he’s in the movies that defined him growing up. [break][break]

“That Machamp of yours is no joke! I want Kohryu and the rest of my team to be that cool.”




[break][break]

+ noah faber

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

[attr="class","icon"]

gabe's cheeky spirit reminds noah of his own youth. not that he was old now. no, not at all. however, his life has been framed by displacement and peril.[break][break]

no matter how vibrant the pigment of idealism may be, the illusion breaks so easily when the frame is chipped.[break][break]

"how to beat up kyle?" noah laughs. "well, maybe i got some tips and tricks."[break][break]

the gym leader scratches his head as if to scrape off the imposter syndrome with his fingertips.[break][break]

"alright! gabe, right? gabe, before we can make you and your pokemon even cooler than you all already are..."[break][break]

noah leans forward, gaze mischievous yet hardening with a sudden gravitas.[break][break]

"why do you wanna be the best?"

The question is answered without skipping a beat. Navidsons are cut from the same cloth.[break][break]
“’Cause settling for second place sucks.” Words delivered with a young man’s bright eyed enthusiasm, accentuated with a smile and a clenched fist.[break][break]
But it’s an answer that barely pierces the surface, and Gabe knows it.[break][break]
“This is the toughest region in the world. I’m glued to the television watching everything with Navy. You guys all work so hard for us…” Them, the common people. The ones without fully evolved Pokemon and nothing but time to train them into fine-tuned monsters.[break][break]
“…I wanna keep you all safe. I wanna keep Navy safe. So I’ve gotta be the best.” His hand is over his heart, his words a solemn promise.[break][break]
“What about you? Why’d you decide to be a gym leader?”





[break][break]

+ noah faber

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

[attr="class","icon"]

noah rustles the other's hair. he's reminded of his own sibling; an ecruteak memory stirred briefly in gabe's locks. a bell chimes in august colors bringing a small smile to his face.[break][break]

"sorta the same deal. to protect. to be the best i can be to do so." the gym leader says. "but y'know, there's nothing wrong with standing back a bit. let the adults do their thing."[break][break]

he rubs the back of his neck.[break][break]

"you can enjoy living a normal life, little guy."

“He-hey…!” He blushes when his hair is ruffled. Try as he might to appear put together, he’s still young at heart. “You sound like Navy. Maybe I can just sit back, but…” Balling both hands into soft fists, he practically jumps in place.[break][break]
“I just wanna do my part! You guys’re a few years out from the retirement home.” 20 and all the independence that number promises is tantalizing to a boy his age, edging the hill towards adulthood.[break][break]
“…besides, there’s nothing I’d rather do.”


[break][break]

+ noah faber

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

[attr="class","icon"]

a few years out from the retirement home? noah takes a moment to swallow that audacious pill. still, he understands. to a kid, each stage of life is a world-altering graduation—and noah has stood upon several.[break][break]

"navy knows you're all 'up and at 'em' then?" noah says. "i think we just don't wanna see you get hurt, man."[break][break]

the gym leader smiles. with the glow of the crowd now gone, the curve of his lips find forlorn dips in the skin.

The boy’s expression turns pensive. Nodding, he understands the gym leader’s point. But all the same…[break][break]
“I could get hurt if I take a funny step in the shower, or trip going down the stairs.” Someone said that in another movie, one of the ones his older brother’s eyes were glued to from the opening credits ‘til the close.[break][break]
“…or I could be out getting fast food when Team Rocket decides to invade my city. I could be confused and scared and hurt when we get pushed into a train car. We’d have been mince meat if Navy hadn’t thrown out Ironsides, picked me up, and flew off when the trains started derailing.” There’s a trace of pride in his voice. Some might say the older Navidson militantly sticks to the sidelines, but Gabe only ever sees someone who puts him first.[break][break]
“I don’t wanna feel that powerless again, Noah. I don’t want Navy to have to keep saving me.”



[break][break]

+ noah faber

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

[attr="class","icon"]

"listen little guy. i don't think i can stop you from what i'm hearing."[break][break]

noah finds it difficult to hide his unease. he anchors his palm against his neck. his head steadies.[break][break]

"all i'll teach you is ways to defend yourself with pokemon, alright man?"[break][break]

noah says as he calls upon his machamp. he pushes the capsule's button, ejecting his pokemon partner with a dramatic arc of red.[break][break]

"this isn't for rushing into the middle of battle or anything like that, okay?"

“I know.” Gabe smiles as he pulls out his own pokeball. With all the folly of youth, he rushes forward. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow will come again with no incident.[break][break]
“But I wanna do my part.” He releases a Kirlia, who looks up at the brawny Machamp. Roland, who much like his master will die a warrior’s death, bows at the Pokemon with respect.[break][break]
“Thank you for the chance to do that.” He is not his older brother. Caught in the tangle of his own life, he can’t detect the unease in Noah’s voice. So the gym leader, like his soon-to-be husband and the boy’s older brother, arms him with the wrong answers. Indulges him. Cascades him towards disaster.[break][break]
Years later[break][break]
It’s raining in Slateport’s cemetery in the days after Sootopolis. Just another funeral. Gabriel Navidson’s grave is one among many freshly dug. Old friends gather to see off one taken too soon, hellbent on rushing towards glory.[break][break]
“Hey.” Navy says to Noah, his gray eyes as downcast and wet as the heavens. “He really appreciated it when you trained him, man. Gabe never grinned as much as when he came back from your place.” The one more burdened by this loss than anyone offers another some solace.[break][break]
“Thanks for that.”




[break][break]

+ noah faber

[attr="class","pokeclass"]

[attr="class","icon"]

clad in black, it is odd to witness noah in mourning garb. the sleeve of his suit wrinkles when he reaches for navy. a hand rests on his shoulder with a firmness noah hopes is even the tiniest bit of comfort.[break][break]

"i couldn't say no."[break][break]

the gym leader swallows and tastes dust and ash.[break][break]

"i could never say no."[break][break]

the rain strikes the umbrella that shields them like ghostly fingertips playing somber keys.