“Don't I? You're practically vibrating with a sort of tension. Like you're constantly on edge or ready to… fight…”
His face lit up as his words slowed. He took a cautious step closer, voice gleeful as he realised something aloud.
“You actually are hiding something.”
Reader picks a fight with Raihan, and he realises there's more to them than meets the eye. He then spends the next several months trying to figure them out, much to their dismay.
If there was one thing to be said about Hammerlocke's gym leader, he was known to be very intense in battle. He trained with a shrewd twinkle in his eye; a delightfully dangerous invitation that drew you in as he wiped you out with his team and the weather. Perhaps he was intense in other ways, too, more intimate ways people didn't see. Outside of that, he was a very lighthearted and relaxed person, engaging with people with light humour and ease, lightening any awkward or somber mood.
He shared a bright smile with Galar, the most easygoing of the leaders. He posted daily on his socials, whether with cheeky captions of him having decimated someone in training or just his sandstorms and team. He knew most everyone and could tell you something about anyone. He was well liked and shared that disposition with most people.
You say most, because for some fucking reason, Raihan seemed to despise you.
You couldn’t even figure out why; you’d only met the man a handful of times prior, and they’d seemed to go well. Great, even.
Had he caught on to one of your embarrassing habits when you thought no one was looking? Had he decided he was against pokémon handlers, or that your methods were all wrong? Or maybe…
No. You chose not to believe that, and chose to believe that there simply was no telling. Unless you asked him.
And you did. Very futilely, on multiple occasions. Directly, indirectly, you’ve even asked his rival and mate, the Champion.
“Sorry, no telling. It’s actually a bit odd for him, I’ll admit, but I’ve got no clue.”
Then you had sighed, thanked Leon and begrudgingly accepted your fate. You’d gotten one of the most likable and tolerant people in Galar to hate you for undetermined or unfair reasoning. What luck. It brought back memories, and not great ones, and you told yourself it was for the best anyway.
Yet, you’d still pondered and slowly grown to resent his actions, and him just a little, maybe a bit hurt by this demeanour but unwilling to admit it. You finally put it down to petty, jealous behaviour or internalisation of something he had going on, and you had been associated with it.
Or so you told yourself, because when you ran into him while training with your team out in the Wild Area, you still couldn’t resist asking one last time. His response was monotonous and almost generically the same.
“I don’t… dislike you. We just don’t have much of a reason to interact.”
When the words left his mouth, you felt a pang of irritation shoot through you sharply, to which you released a soft tch, unsurprised and entirely over it. You turned away to your team, cleaning and giving them treats after the session, words faintly audible under your breath.
Unbeknownst to you, his eye twitched as you successfully got under his skin, catching your muttered words. He watched you tend to your pokémon, his jaw clenching as he leaned against a nearby tree and crossed his arms tightly. The comment stung more than he'd ever show.
“Keep acting like that and your Pokémon might catch an attitude.”
You stopped, slowly turning around with a tight expression. Was he threatening your team?
A smirk played on his lips at your reaction, though it didn't reach his eyes. He pushed off with deliberate movement, slow and poised.
“Yikes, no sense of humor either. They might become as stiff as you are, too.”
He gestured vaguely at your rigid posture, clearly aiming to provoke you further. Your lip curled in response, words chillingly calm yet warning.
“Don't fucking touch them. Don't even look at them outside of a match. You're the one with a personality disorder or something.” You weren’t exactly sure why you chose violence today. To be honest, he hadn't even done much, you had (in hindsight) misinterpreted his words - not that you would back down. You were just itching for a fight, to be honest, having had a bad day, and had no qualms taking it out on someone who had been a dick for no real reason.
Your Noivern glanced around you with abrupt surprise at your language, tone, and body language. You shifted to keep her behind your own body, shielding her from any other foul words or expressions. His arrogant rendition of a smile vanished instantly, replaced by a deliciously aggravated frown. The protective stance you took with your Noivern only fueled his irritation.
“Personality disorder? That's rich coming from someone who can't even handle a basic conversation without throwing around swears or insults.”
Raihan took a step forward, though maintained a reasonable distance from your pokémon.
“Maybe you should check your own issues first.” The way he added on your name so mockingly served to aggravate you further. You smiled at him sharply, the expression anything but friendly.
“I've tried basic conversation, I just thought you were incompetent or unwilling. I'm not insane, why keep trying?” There was probably no call for that, but you for some reason still felt like getting under his skin. Maybe it had bothered you more than you were willing to admit.
Noivern glanced at you, shuffling in place, but obediently stayed behind you when you waved a soft signal for her to. You adjusted, stance growing more protective between you and the rest of your pokémon. Crazy considering you were smaller than most of them.
His eyes narrowed dangerously at your smile, fingers curling into fists. He scoffed as his expression cycled through emotions; perhaps what could be begrudging respect, irritation, and unexpected confusion that he quickly concealed.
“Incompetent? I'm the Galar League's second most powerful trainer. I'm in the Master's Eight of league rankings, unlike some who can't even claim a consistent title. At least my Flygon doesn't need constant shielding.”
Your expression twisted further, more baring your teeth threateningly than smiling as your nose wrinkled in a displeased fashion.
“I don’t need some stupid title to feel important or accomplished unlike some people. And wow, it’s almost like I’m shielding my partner from an incredible douche that’s making threats.”
He stopped his advance but remained tense, matching your dangerous tone with his own.
“No threats here. Just stating facts.”
His hand unconsciously moved to his belt where his pokéballs rested, though he didn't draw one. “There's pride with earning those titles, something you're too busy protecting yourself from to achieve.”
“And what would I be protecting myself from, pray tell, oh wise and all-knowing prick?” you asked acidically, sarcasm weighing down your words despite the growing pit in your stomach. “The overwhelming weight of your ego?”
Noivern cocked her head in confusion, not nervous, simply dumbfounded at the interaction.
His eyes flashed with something hot at the comment, but he forced a mocking laugh.
“From failing to live up to your own potential, or the lack thereof. Or are you scared of actually trying? Your Noivern seems perfectly fine, no thanks to you. I don't think she's the slightest hurt by a passing joke. If anything, she might be suffocated by your inadequacies.”
Your head snapped back to him, expression hostile. “Because you're the expert here, not me, right? It’s not like that’s what I do for a living,” you seethed tersely as you finally marched up to him, meeting his aggravating gaze with a subzero one. “Let's get one thing straight. I'm where I want to be - my pokémon are strong, healthy, and happy. I'm out of the public spotlight. Noivern's more than fine, thank you, she's bloody wonderful.”
He held your gaze, refusing to back down from your hostility. His tall frame loomed slightly over you, words taunting.
“Out of the spotlight because you can't handle it. Your pokémon may be strong, but they deserve better than a trainer who's too defensive to grow or gives up.”
Your face shifted into a blatant snarl.
“I'm a perfectly good trainer. And it's not because I can't handle it, it's because I chose to keep my life private. That doesn't make me a coward. It’s also counterproductive,” you emphasised, “to try to seek that when my main job is to focus on helping my pokémon and everyone else that comes to me.”
He let out a derisive snort, though his stance remained tense.
“All except that Flapple, right?
His voice carried a mix of mockery, and you briefly hesitated, brow wrinkling in a dumbfounded manner. Yet, you didn’t get to ask the now impending question his words brought as he added on.
“But tell me - how do you expect to improve if you never challenge yourself?”
You glared at him harder, distracted from your initial question, voice sharper than a Weaville's claws.
“Just because I keep my life my business doesn't mean I don't challenge myself. I've fought all the gym leaders, you included. I go to Lake Outrage frequently. I've visited other regions and faced those gyms.”
(He didn't have to know it was mostly Kalos, you didn't like the other regions very much, having left before challenging their gyms.)
“Have you even been outside Galar, Raihan?”
Raihan worked his jaw at the mention of other regions, his words mildly unconvincing even if they might have been true.
“Of course I have. Just because I'm focused on Galar doesn't mean I don’t leave it.”
Then he crossed his arms defensively as he continued, “And those gym challenges don't count if you don't let anyone see them. Your victories are just that... private little secrets. No proof, no glory.”
“Bloody idiot. I don't want glory, you're not understanding that! I do it for my team and myself, not cheeky bastards!” you snapped and stepped closer, at your wits end. He matched your stride forward, towering deliberately, posture tense and finally outwardly hostile, his voice dropping to a challenging growl, hands twitching at his sides.
“Then what's the point of all that power if you keep it hidden? You're wasting potential. Just like you're wasting energy being so damn defensive right now. Show me something then. Something real. Without that audience you just can't stand.”
You leered at him, eyes flashing vividly. You were tired of the insults and baseless assumptions, as well as the constant hostility and lies.
“You want something real? Fine. Have a reality check.”
Your abruptly clenched fist flashed outward in an arc, his head snapping to the side. You were already braced to defend and counter by the time he registered it.
Shock momentarily replaced his aggravation, a faint vicious satisfaction coursing through you. He touched his jaw where you struck, eyes widening before narrowing dangerously. Your satisfaction at his expression may have been immediate, but it was short lived.
In one fluid motion, he grabbed your wrist - firmly yet not harmfully - to prevent further attacks and stepped back, putting distance between you both.
“Do you always just resort to violence if you don't like what someone says?”
Despite the situation and much to your surprise, a harsh smile spread over his face, a strange sort of delight and triumph replacing his previous irritation.
“And you said I had behavioral disorders? What a spine, punching a gym leader thrice your size.”
(anddd cut. please go check out the rest on my ao3!)
(edit: 06/28 stuff hath been updated)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/83141926
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