Gold looked at Lyra. Not with anger. With exhaustion. The exhaustion of a fifteen-year-old who had already learned that some doors don’t open just because you knock.
Gold had just defeated the Red Gyarados—a monstrous, shimmering thing driven mad by forced evolution. Exhausted, he knelt at the water’s edge, washing the crimson scales from his arms. Lance, the Dragon Master, clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ve got the heart of a true Johto trainer.” 4780 - Pokemon Heartgold -u--xenophobia-
The “war” was a hazy thing—trade sanctions, a few ugly skirmishes near the Indigo Plateau, twenty years cold. But in Johto, it was still a warm ember under the ash. Gold looked at Lyra
Lyra had never questioned the soft, familiar rhythm of Johto. The whistle of the Magnet Train, the scent of apricorns ripening in Route 37, the way the bells of the Brass Tower chimed at dusk—these were the truths of her world. So when the boy arrived in New Bark Town, he felt less like a trainer and more like a splinter. The exhaustion of a fifteen-year-old who had already
“He’s not the enemy,” she said.
“We don’t eat that here,” he said flatly, though they absolutely did.