Archive of Our Own

The sky above Hoenn had lit up in a fantastic display. Most people who cared about craning their necks upwards to count shooting stars had gathered at Mossdeep City, the Space Centre promising a winning view of the Litleonid meteor shower. It was a welcome reprieve to everyone, after the drama of the last few months. Groudon being awoken, the terrible heat that had followed; the six-mile-diameter asteroid, Rayquaza…

It had been a lot. The region of Hoenn as a whole had breathed out a sigh of relief when it was all over.

Maxie, ever-averse to large crowds of civilians, stood at the railing by Lilycove beach. In his eyes, it was more than a little silly to pay hand-over-fist just to sit in a special room to watch the meteor shower. He could see it all perfectly fine from here.

“You see that one, Max? That one was real bright.”

Maxie glanced over at the man standing beside him.

“Of course I saw it, Archie. We’re watching the same sky, are we not?”

Archie only chuckled in reply, nodding.

“I’m glad the kid managed to fix our mess at the eleventh hour. It would’ve sucked pretty bad to miss something this pretty, huh?”

Maxie stayed quiet, casting his mind back.

He’d always prided himself on being a uniquely unaffected man. He could blaze through problems without breaking a sweat. He could drown out the chaos of life around him and dedicate himself to his work when he needed to.

Even so, a rare sense of guilt had been gnawing away at him, the last month or so.

It had started off with the whole Groudon incident. Maxie hadn’t realised how badly he was fucking up until the sun turned harsh and Hoenn began to overheat. It hadn’t been his intention to cause actual harm, let alone a cataclysmic ecological disaster in waiting. The realisation had shaken him to his core, rendered him utterly dumb until the other shoe dropped and the child had to intervene.

That had been the next problem. The great Maxie, already proven disastrously wrong once that day, was given no other choice but to put the fate of the world into the hands of a little girl. Maxie was not a family man, and he doubted he ever would be, but even he knew that the trainer who’d fought him so fervently was far too young to have to deal with such pressure. If he couldn’t handle it, it wasn’t fair to assume May would be able to.

He’d watched on as she’d spoken to Archie, and to that Steven fellow, feeling a sense of complete dread flow through him. 

Maxie didn’t believe in miracles, but it was the only way to explain how that young girl managed to get out alive. He’d been dumbstruck when she’d proudly held up her Master Ball to the little crowd that had gathered afterwards. He’d not spoken to her, only nodding in both approval and thanks.

He had hoped that it’d be the end of everyone’s problems. Hell, he and Archie had even gotten back onto speaking terms after the Groudon incident. But barely a month had passed before Magma’s researchers told him about the meteor - and before Mossdeep Space Centre and their sponsors at the Devon Corporation had called little May up to deal with the problem again.

In honesty, the whole affair had mildly appalled him. Stone and his scientists, that young Lorekeeper lady, they were all adults. Adults that should’ve known better than to resort to infighting at the first sign of the end. The first moment things had looked a little difficult, May was involved.

The girl wasn’t even a teenager, Maxie remembered ranting to Archie.

Miraculously, May had done it again. She was a headstrong young girl, from what Maxie knew of her, and it had shone through. He’d come away from his obsessive notes on the situation to find out the child had mastered Rayquaza, and the meteor had been broken apart. She’d spoken a mile a minute when she’d stormed into the Team Magma base to tell everyone about it, the spark of determination in her eyes not dulled, but burning brighter than ever. Kids were resilient to this kind of thing, Maxie had forced himself to suppose, lest the coiling guilt struck at him again like a Seviper.

“Earth to Maxie? You there?”

Maxie blinked back to the present moment, clearing his throat.

“...Apologies, Archie. I was a little distracted.”

“I’ll say. You ain’t had that faraway look in your eyes for years. You okay?”

Damn that man. Archie had a particular talent for wading his way through Maxie’s defences and figuring out that something was eating at him, even if he didn’t know what.

“Hm. I’m thinking-”

“Dear Arceus, careful with that.”

The redhead shot Archie a withering glare before continuing.

“I’m thinking about the last few months. How much we rely on the next generation to fix the errors of the current one.”

Archie’s expression softened a little.

“Aw, c’mon, Max. I know you feel guilty about that whole thing, but you have to forgive yourself a little. It’s the only way you can properly start to make amends. Can’t help out if you’re wallowing in your head all day, can you?”

Maxie sighed.

“Whilst you’re correct - rare, I know –” Archie let out a playfully offended huff, “I’m not just thinking about that. The meteor, these last few days. The scientists didn’t even try to come up with another solution after that Draconid woman came in. They took one look at little May ‘Hoenn Pokemon League Champion’ Himura, and bundled her with it. We’re supposed to be the adults, Archie. We’re supposed to keep the children safe, not the other damn way around. How the girl isn’t traumatised, I’ll never understand.”

Archie stayed quiet for a moment, almost uncharacteristically so. It was enough for Maxie to tear his eyes away from the meteor shower above and glance at his old rival’s face.

“...You ain’t wrong. But it’s like I said, you stubborn man. We can’t exactly change the past. We gotta make up for it by making the future better. I can’t speak entirely for you, but I know I’d ride at dawn to keep that scamp safe after all this.”

Maxie hummed. 

Quiet fell over the two men for a few minutes as more shooting stars danced across the sky.

“...Archie?”

Something in Maxie’s tone bordered on anxiety. His gaze dropped to the sea, glittering before them.

“I don’t doubt you know it by now, but… I am sorry. For blowing up at you the way I did. For letting our differences come between us. For throwing away a good thing.”

A hand clapped on his shoulder.

“So am I. I ain’t about to let you shoulder all the blame like some pompous martyr when it took both of us to fuck things up.”
Archie met Maxie’s eyes.
“Been sorry for a damn long time about how it ended between us. I was just too damn stubborn to say so. And so were you. We’re both pretty proud guys, Max, even if I try to be a bit more chill than you do.”

The corner of Maxie’s mouth lifted slightly, a half-smile of acknowledgement.

“I admit I’ve been… well, stupid is the word that comes to mind. Stupid enough to almost cause the damn apocalypse just to prove my point in an argument from fifteen years ago. People would have died if I’d gotten my way, and that’s… sobering. It’s not what I intended at all.”

Archie huffed.

“So Maximilian Matsubusa jumped to a conclusion like it was an Olympic sport, what else is new?”

Maxie rolled his eyes, pushing Archie as the taller man slung an arm around his shoulder.

“Here I am, apologising to you, and all you can do is joke. Honestly.”

He let his hands fall against the railing.

“...And yet, I can’t say I’m upset to have you here.”

The Team Aqua Leader hummed.

“Been a while, hasn’t it? I missed you, Maxie. Missed this. Just bein’ able to be with you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, surprisingly.” Maxie then shook his head. “No, I take that back. I’m hardly surprised. You and I… we’ve always balanced each other out, haven’t we?”

The two inched closer to each other, not feeling any pull to make a big deal of it.

“That is to say, I’ve missed you too, Archie. We’ve both been stubborn fools.”
Maxie looked the other man in the eyes.

“I’m not as naive as to think a single apology fixes everything. Even so, and even with all the unforgivable things I’ve done in the past few months, I hope I could maybe start making it up to you. If you’d have me, Archie.”

Archie blinked, then went steadily redder in the face until he resembled a Pomeg berry.

“Er. Are you asking me out, Max?”

The Team Magma Leader blinked in return, the two of them looking utterly blank.

“...As much as I’m not opposed to resuming what we had, Arch, I think we need to maybe build the foundations back up first, no?”

He adjusted his glasses.
“...Even so. I won’t say that I’m not.”

The redhead raised his gaze back up to the sky, watching the meteor shower.

“Do you remember the first time we watched the Litleonids, Archie?”

Archie nodded. Of course he did. It had been their first date - and that was a fact that made him feel very old. It had been twenty-four years. 

“You smiled a lot more back then, Maxie.”

Almost in retaliation, Maxie cracked a smirk.

“We were in our twenties. We were young. I fear if I smile too much in middle age, I’ll pull a muscle.”

“You’re forty-three, Max. You’re hardly about to keel over, you dramatic bastard.” Despite his tone, Archie was grinning in return.

“Hm. Well, my point remains. I am happy. Happier now I’ve understood how severely my head was stuck in the sand, perhaps. And I’ll admit, I’m… more than a little relieved that you were willing to talk to me even after what I did.”

Archie took Maxie’s hand, squeezing it.

“You’re a stubborn bastard, Matsubusa. I’ll say that over and over until I drop. But seein’ all of this go down, almost losing everything… It put things into perspective for me.” Another squeeze. “I am by no means saying things can go back to the way they were twenty years ago right now . But I am saying that there’s a good, massive, un-fucking-bending part of me that still loves you more than anyone would say is sensible. So, yeah. I’m…”

Archie seemed to almost run out of steam.

“I’m willing to make this work again. I’ll have you, Maxie. And you’ll have me, right?”

Maxie, who was blinking rather rapidly, gave a slightly choked hum.

“You silly man. I asked you . Of course I’ll have you.”

For the first time in fifteen years, the pair of hands curled together, intertwined. Though shaky and out of practice, the gesture remained instinctive, natural, like breathing.

“...I still love you, too.”