#legendkeepers

"Yeah, mum and dad have been losing their minds over it. You'd think the world was ending over here, never mind how Ritsu’s parents have been handling things," Rex said rather blithely to Hop, his neighbor and longtime friend. Ritsu's longtime friend. Hop, perched on the stone wall next to Rex, tilted his head at him, confused. 

"They said Ritsu's gone though, right? That sounds awful serious to me," he countered, concern lacing his expression. Hop, by this point, had gathered the nature of the situation well before Rex did. Rex shrugged, swinging his feet aimlessly, heels battering the old stone wall beneath him. 

"I dunno. I mean, it can't be that bad. His parents are always making a fuss if Ritsu misses so much as snack time, and you know he's aces at building super secret bases. He prolly just made a new one and didn't tell them," Rex explained, hopping off the wall with a muted 'oof'. 

"Hey, maybe next time we go visit, we should ask him if we can sleep over in it! I bet it's so cool no one would ever wanna leave, and that's why no one's seen him yet!" He added excitedly. Hop nodded, eyes brightening, the enthusiasm infectious. 

"Yeah, that'd be awesome!" 

•••

Rex was ten years old when his parents were ready to let him take on his first Pokemon. Rex had been eagerly waiting for the day. Bursting with excitement when they told him the good news. But he asked, as politely as he'd ever asked anything, that he wait a year before getting one. 

"Rex, dear, this is all you've ever talked about for so long! I don't mind, but why the change of heart?" His mother inquired, surprised. 

"I was thinking I want to wait until Ritsu can get his, so we can get ours together and they can be bestest buds just like we are!" Rex beamed. His parents exchanged fond, if somewhat anxious glances. 

"I don't have a problem with it," his dad chimed in. 

"But... Ritsu may not even want a pokemon. You know how he gets around them," he added carefully, watching his son for his response. Rex, unphased, shook his head. 

"It'll be fine! He'd feel loads better if he had one looking out for him, I know he would! And so'd his parents! I bet if they quit nagging him so much they'd all learn pokemon can be really cool too!" 

"Rex! That's no way to speak about them!" His mother scolded him with a huff. Rex merely gave a cheeky shrug. 

"It's true though!" 

•••

Rex was fifteen years old when he decided to take on the gym challenge. His parents protested his decision, but he didn't care. He was tired of them getting on his case all the time anymore. Always the same thing, nag nag nag. Ever since Ritsu had disappeared, both his mum and dad had gone insane about keeping track of Rex, holding him accountable at all times. Rex was fed up with it. 

"Ready to go, Miki?" He whispered to his Charmander, sitting on the bedroom sill next to him. Miki wagged her tail, the embers flickering in a mesmerizing fashion in the early dawn light. 

"Char!" She squeaked eagerly. Rex shushed her, brushing a fingertip down her nose gently as a tactile reminder. He grinned down at the charmander in her little red bow. 

"Alright. Let's go then, before we wake mum and dad," he murmured, gesturing with a free arm. Miki took the cue, hopping onto his shoulders, clinging for all she was worth. Rex took a final look down the wall, and - judging it clear - hauled himself down the side, keeping a solid hold on the windowsill now above him. He felt around for good footholds, inching his way down. Normally he'd have no qualms about just dropping right down into the bush below, full force. But he had to be quiet. 

Miki whimpered slightly as Rex slid a little, missing what he thought had been a good ledge. She clung tighter as he fumbled around, adjusting his handholds once he felt his legs were stable. Rex took another look down. Should be good enough, right? 

"Hold on, Miki," he whispered, and with a push he launched himself off the wall, landing on his feet below just in front of the bush. The momentum carried him into a kneel, and he rammed his knees down into the grass with a pained grunt. Oh, he'd be feeling that one later. But that was later, and this was now. And right now, he had to go meet with Hop. 

"Whew.... Alright," Rex muttered to himself, shaking off the lingering pain from his graceless landing. 

"Let's go!" 

It would be several hours before his parents discovered what happened. Rex would be long gone for Wedgehurst by then, and fresh off of what would be his first of many legendary encounters.  

•••

Rex was sixteen years old as he stared down death for the first real time. As he placed himself between Leon and Hop, the latter crying for the former to wake up, pull himself together, Death stared down at the scene before it with a blank apathy. Rex glowered up at the unfeeling hand just waiting to scoop them all up within its chilling grasp. He didn't care what it thought it was, it was out of line! 

The creature - Eternatus, presumably - thundered a hollow, alien cry, and Rex readied his pokeballs. It'd have to kill him and his team before it could get to Hop and Leon. 

•••

Rex was still sixteen years old as he tackled the chairman to the floor of the power plant. He'd never cared much for the man and his glib manner of speaking, but it had never been personal. Before now, that is. 

Now? He wanted nothing more dearly than to make the older man pay for what he did. For endangering his pokemon. For endangering Leon. For endangering Hop, and nearly putting him through another loss. For nearly putting Rex through another loss. 

Well. Rex almost wanted nothing more dearly than to make the older man pay.  

Rex was sixteen years old as the other adults hauled him off of the beaten and battered chairman, voices blending together into a thick stew of concern and shock, worry and admonishment. 

Rex was sixteen years old as he was escorted from the Hammerlocke gym, into a throng of cameras and microphones pushing and shoving greedily towards him, ready to feed. 

Rex was sixteen years old as articles scrutinizing him flew off the press and as news reporters used his name as they would that of a storm in the daily weather report. 

Rex was sixteen years old, a hero of Galar. A public figure.

Rex was sixteen years old when he became the Champion.

Rex was sixteen years old. 

•••

Rex was twelve years old, nearly thirteen, when he attended his best friend's funeral. He didn't understand why. Ritsu was still missing. Not dead. 

According to the adults, it was because there were no leads, no sign of Ritsu anywhere at any point, and so they had to assume the worst. Well, then the adults hadn't looked hard enough! That wasn't Ritsu's fault if they were bollocks at searches. They shouldn't have been giving up on him just for that. 

Rex stood amid a mass of black, holding his baby charmander close to his chest. That shouldn't be out, someone had scolded, put it back in its pokeball. 

No, Rex had said, standing firm. Miki has just as much right to be here as anyone. She wasn't hurting anything.

The adults continued to shoot him looks for the orange bundle in his black-clad arms. He let them. 

Miki had been there for him through all of this. She didn't deserve to be cooped up in some ball just because the others thought she was lesser. 

At least Hop understood. Over half of the times that Rex had looked up to see a disapproving glare sent his way, he also saw Hop giving them a hard stare of his own, inching himself in the middle of the line of sight. Rex would give an appreciative smile and Hop would hit him with a small grin of his own. 

"You don't have to handle this alone", it seemed to say. 

•••

Rex was sixteen years old as he stood next to his best friend Hop, in the midst of a panicked evacuation from the Darkest Day heralding the end of the world.

“Aaaagh, shit. How are we going to find Leon in this mess?” Hop bounced on the balls of his feet anxiously, trying to crane his neck to see past the people flooding out of the building. 

“Stay calm. If there’s one thing I’ve learned researching about Ritsu, it’s-”

“Oh, drop it about Ritsu for one damned second!” Hop swore. Rex faltered, startled. Around them, alarms blared and a cacophony of voices swarmed in all directions around them. 

Rex stared back at Hop, brows furrowed in a question he was too speechless to ask. Hop waved his arm in a sweeping motion towards everything. 

“Now’s not the time! Just look at this! We have to focus on the now, on saving my brother!”

Rex found himself protesting without fully meaning to.

“Well, yeah, obviously. I wasn’t saying otherwise. I was jus-”

“No, I know! But it’s not the same! It’s not! The same!” Hop interrupted, voice raising.

 “My bro’s still alive! Ritsu’s dead! He’s been dead, and I’ve let it go all this time that you keep blithering on about bringing him back or whatever, but now’s not the time!”

Rex fell still. Hop glared him down for a moment before it was clear no one was going to make a move otherwise. 

“Ugh, screw this! I’m going to go find Leon! Or the chairman. Or. Something!” Hop scoffed, whirling on his heel and running off into the amorphous cloud of people.

Rex hesitated. 

He had to go help too. 

His feet felt welded to the floor. 

Rex was sixteen years old as he stood, lost and alone in a crowd of people fleeing the end of the world. 

•••

Rex was sixteen, going on seventeen years old, as the wind blustered around him, stealing his heat from his bones. He paid it little mind, all attention trained on the pokemon before him, its absurdly large head bobbing around in front of him. Chief Peony likewise bobbed in the air, suspended with telekinesis Rex had wagered, expression almost peaceful as words were spoken through him. 

"I am Calyrex. I am the one known as the King of Bountiful Harvests. I have borrowed this man's body in order to thank you in person...so to speak."

The wind was surely stealing Peony's heat away. He hoped the chief could hold out a little longer. 

•••

“Hold out just a little bit longer, Ritsu.”

Rex was eleven years old, nearly twelve, as he muttered this into his palm. He sat sullenly in his room, staring out the window, grounded for the third time that month for trying to take a train - and then ultimately, a plane - to Hoenn all by himself. 

He was tired of waiting for the adults to get off their arses and find his friend! It was obvious he needed to take matters into his own hands! Not that his parents listened to a word he’d say. What would they know? 

Dejectedly, he flipped through the pages of a worn comic book issue with one hand, disinterested in the panels and words he’d read over a dozen times by now. Only one speech bubble happened to catch his eye by chance as the pages scattered past, a shout bubble belonging to a desperate hero.

“Hold out a little bit longer.”

It was a phrase used often enough, especially in his favorite comics. Seriously enough. Ritsu was fine, Rex knew he was. But it felt appropriate, somehow, to apply it to the situation. 

Hold out a little bit longer. 

Rex was eleven years old, nearly twelve, when a knock on the door distracted him from a troubling line of thinking. 

•••

“Hold on there, Rex,” Rex’s mum had laughed gaily, keying the number into the rotom phone. Rex, twelve years old, sat shoulder to shoulder with Hop, bouncing his knee in impatience as the egg before him glowed gently. 

“But dad’s going to miss it!” Rex whined. 

“He’ll still get to meet the baby pokemon that’s come out of it,” Leon reassured over the speaker. Rex had insisted everyone be present, even if it meant Hop called his brother while Rex’s mum tried - and failed - to reach his dad. 

“It’s supposed to be a charmander, right?” Hop asked his brother. 

“Could be.” 

Rex startled from his pout, and his head whipped to the phone in Hop’s lap. 

“You said it was an egg from your charizard, guaranteed!”

“I mean, who can really tell with eggs?” Leon laughed. Rex had just about wound up a retort when a telltale crack sound snapped in front of him. All eyes trained on the source. 

The egg was hatching. 

Everyone watched, spellbound, as the egg broke open in a blaze of light. A little orange lizard sprawled out from the broken shell, stretching with a tiny squeak of effort, before large aquamarine eyes turned up curiously towards Rex. 

“Hullo there,” Rex whispered, leaning closer to the tiny charmander. 

“Want to be my friend?”

•••

Rex was twenty five years old as he stood, uncertainly, in Eterna forest, an aged flute clutched in both hands. Beside him, Miki, his charizard and most faithful companion, leaned down to huff at the instrument. Rex chuckled, and stroked at her muzzle soothingly. 

“Yeah, I hear ya. ‘S now or never, huh?” 

At his other side, Calyrex nodded sagely. 

“It’s time, Rex,” they confirmed. Rex took a deep breath in. And out. Then, holding the time flute up to his lips, he began to play. 

The trio heard a noise akin to if glitter were a sound, and a delighted laugh chimed across the forest. Rex opened his eyes to see Celebi, hovering in front of him expectantly. 

“Calyrex?” Rex prompted, still nervous. Calyrex nodded. 

“Celebi is ready,” they affirmed. Rex nodded, a smile starting to spread across his lips as it sank in. 

He’d done it. 

He’d finally be bringing Ritsu home. 

Rex was twenty-five years old as he looked Celebi in the eye and said,