The words fly from Barry’s lips before he can reel them back in, packed with a surprising amount of anger. After seeing Dawn’s Piplup submit his Chimchar, and after seeing Roark’s Cranidos wreck his newly-caught Starly, the blond finds himself sitting despondently on the floor of his Pokemon Center room, stewing mostly--for once--in silence. Who knew that his adventures would involve so much losing?
Barry is (somehow) less mature then, definitely more prone to impulse...but even he knows that the bitter complaints don’t suit him, that they make everything worse...salt in open wounds. His poor Starly (wing bandaged) flinches at the outburst, and the gaze of his scratched-up Chimchar (composed even at his young age) merely hardens. As the inexperienced Trainer tries to sputter out scrambled apologies, Chimchar quietly grabs Starly’s healthy wing and leads them both out of the room. Barry doesn’t follow, leaning over his bed and punching the pillow feebly as tears sting his eyes. What could he do now?
“Aw man...”
Barry can’t find his young team for the rest of the day, but he manages to mostly bottle his worry--perhaps they just needed some time to cool off. However, when the stars begin to shine over the craggy horizons of Oreburgh, the harried blond determinedly recites his apology--written on his seventh piece of scrap paper, crumpled and crossed-out to oblivion--and sets foot outside the Center, purpose once again in his step. Barry turns the corner of the building, and his heart melts. The rehearsed apology falls from his loosened grip--he wouldn’t remember the lines now, anyways.
In the corner of the Center yard, Chimchar and Starly are sparring each other, their flickering movements visible in firelight. The small monkey grunts as he parries a swat from his feathered teammate. Starly, sweating near the flames, stretches out his bandaged wing. Judging by their heavy panting and dried patch of grass beneath them, they’ve been at this for a while.
“I’m sorry!”
Both Chimchar and Starly jump again as Barry falls to his knees, bowing his head on the cool spring grass. “I shouldn’t have yelled! I know how hard you guys work! We’re a team--we win together, we lose together, and, y’know, I can be better! And I know we won’t give up until we win! I’ll never give up on y-”
A prodding wing in his messy hair gets Barry to lift his gaze from the ground. Starly motions over to Chimchar...and the sincere Twinleaf trainer is again stunned into silence: his starter, his number-one buddy, is glowing golden.
“No way...” is all an awed Barry can manage. With a slight nod, Monferno--still focused--offers a strong hand to his teary-eyed trainer. We still have work to do. And we can’t work if you’re on your knees. That position doesn’t suit you at all.
His heart swelling, renewed vigor coursing through his veins, Barry can’t help but smile as his Pokemon help him to his feet. They’re ready to go another round, ready to get stronger, ready to go all the way to the top with him. The blond smiles because, right then, he knows.
