AN: This was surprisingly easy to write, considering I literally became a fan of this shipping a couple of hours ago. I just wanted to post up something before my ContestShipping one (written earlier today), so I wrote this on an impulse. There's almost no action here and literally two words of dialogue. I like writing in this style.

He had considered it, once. Considered being in a relationship with her, Cynthia, the pretty girl from Celestic Town. But Cynthia was a bright and shining star, alive and simply glowing with life. He wasn't. He was cold and gloomy, fiercely independent, like a wolf. He would've dragged her down.

So he said no.

When he thought about it, they were both wolves. The problem was that they were also both alphas and they couldn't have that. Sure, a pack could be led by a mated pair, but the female would always defer to the male.

Neither of them was willing to defer.

Both of them had dreams, and their dreams weren't actually that different from each other. Both of them desired glory, albeit in different ways. But there wasn't enough to go around. There wasn't enough to share.

Cynthia was the winner of their battle. She was the Champion of Sinnoh, adored by the masses, surrounded by people. She was happy and vibrant, with good friends and a good life.

She wouldn't miss him. By now she must've forgotten, or felt ashamed of what she once offered him, now that he was a criminal.

She thought about him often. Cyrus, the serious boy from Sunyshore. Brilliant and as passionate about his dreams as she was about hers, they had spent many hours debating their relative merits. Somehow, over the course of those hours, she had fallen in love with him.

She was heartbroken when he rejected her. Went home and cried in her pillow, something she would never admit to anyone, not even her grandmother. She walked around in a daze for weeks, finally snapping out of it when her Pokémon expressed their concern.

When she thought about it, a relationship probably wouldn't have worked anyways. She wanted love and he wanted fear. He argued that money often overcame simple affection or trust, but never terror. She argued back that love could overcome the same fear.

Their disputes continued until one time, she blurted out a different answer: that money would never overcome her love for him. He froze in that moment and that's when he gave her his refusal. The next day he didn't come.

She was Champion now, but the title felt more hollow than it should have. There was no sense of triumph, only sorrow. Every time the crowd cheered, she searched for his face and was disappointed at its absence.

She smiled for the audience, but it was a fake smile.

He went back to the library where they once had their daily meetings. It was deserted. No one held an interest in previous times anymore.

Maybe his love of history was the reason he couldn't let go of those past days. Why he couldn't let go of Cynthia.

They'd met by chance. Both of them had reached for the same book at the same time, and their hands touched. Glaring at each other, they launched into a five hour spat that ended only when the librarian informed them that the library was about to close. Neither of them got that book.

She spotted him the next day and apologized, allowing him to take out the book first. She introduced herself, flushing bright red, before running off to a different section of the library. It was a startling change from the day before. He was instantly intrigued by the blond spitfire who called herself Cynthia.

Soon their meetings became planned instead of accidental, and they would bicker about ancient texts. He often found himself sympathizing with the villain, but Cynthia was adamant that there was no excuse for evil.

That meant she would never forgive him.

At some point, he began to feel odd when she smiled at him. It was a slightly giddy feeling, like he'd just eaten too much sugar, where he felt like nothing was impossible. It took him a good month to realize he was in love with her.

He was surprised when she confessed, and by the look on her face, she was too. But it wouldn't work. He knew it from the start. So why should he have tried when it would only lead them both to heartbreak?

Cynthia had a lot of regrets, but falling in love with Cyrus was never one of them. No, it was the result of that she regretted. She shouldn't have let him alienate her. If she hadn't, maybe he wouldn't have followed his chosen path.

Maybe then she could be chasing after him wholeheartedly, without fear of repercussion from his crimes.

It took her a few years to admit it, but she was still in love with him. Or at least, in love with the boy he had been. Maybe he had changed too much and she wouldn't be able to recognize him anymore. Maybe the one she loved didn't exist anymore.

As nostalgia dominated her mind, she felt a sudden longing to read the book that had led to their first encounter. She wanted to be closer to him.

Perhaps what followed was simply coincidence, or perhaps it was synchronicity, because they both felt such a strong desire to reconnect. Or perhaps, for the romantic, it was fate.

Cynthia's footsteps came to an abrupt halt when she saw who was standing in front of the shelf, reading the very book she had come for.

Cyrus noticed nothing. A combination of the carpeted floor and his absorption into the old text in his hands left him deaf to the world around him.

Tentatively, she reached out and touched him on the shoulder.

Someone was trying to pull him out of his world and he wasn't feeling very appreciative. He turned around, intending to give the intruder hell, but when he saw who it was, all protests died on his lips.

"Cynthia?"

"Cyrus?"