N/A: I looked through this and edited this. Thank you all how have read this and comment this despite the fact that some typos were ugly. That's too kind of you all

Everybody did - Marina believed

"You're starting to annoy me, Jimmy! I'm going to hang up for now."

And hung up she did. Turned off her PokéGear and tucked it back at her belt. Smiled (dumbly) when she thought about the conversation earlier. Maybe he wasn't original – special, inclined – but he sure was sweet. Had a capacity to cheer her up, despite her mood, despite her issues – which was many as for anybody.

"I'd met Falkner yesterday. He'd just stare at me!"

Jimmy, Falkner did that. You should've learned that by now.

Sure, he was easy and straightforward, but that didn't mean he was obvious. Because he wasn't. He had secrets, as everybody did. Dark sides that no one got to see. His secret and only his.

He had big dreams. Dreams of his journey. Dreams that were sharp and obvious like a desk lamp. Dreams with no rue. It was easy, it was slightly but that didn't mean it was unimportant. It was not about becoming the best: defeating the Champion, earning the title and then going home and cry over the incapacitate that came afterwards, it was far bigger – far more significant – than she ever could imagine with her bug brain, easygoing style. And that was how she wanted it to be. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Why try to understand the impenetrable?

"Why can't these girls in Goldenrod take a beating?"

Because they were naïve. Naïve and clueless that losing eventually would come to them.

She remembered their last meeting. Sure, it was short. Short but oh so eventful. Their meetings always were for her.

He was older. Time ran like a wave, never waiting for you to be ready. Older and far more conscious that time eventually would run out for him. He strove, walked a fast way forward, never wanted the time (of doom) catching up with him. Soon, he would leave Johto for Hoenn, striking for the Eight Badge Run there, maybe picking a fight with the all-round famous archeologist Steven Stone. His name rolled well on her tongue. He amused her – not for his looks or appearance – but for his skills in understanding that Pokémon wasn't just tools to boast up their Trainer's ego, but friends, eternal friends that would stand by their Trainer's side as long as they felt satisfied with it.

But she knew that he, on the inside, still was the same. Would never lose the simplicity, the childishness, the things that made him Jimmy. No matter what did happen – when, what, where – he would always stay as the only friend that made her head going in circles, surprised her. She loved this about him, the ability of making her smile, making her understand the simplicity in feeling delighted. That was all she wanted, all she needed. Nothing more.

This. That. The only thing she required was him.

"Urgh! Morty is a freak. His Ghost Pokémon chases me every time I come to Ecruteak."

Really? That was something.

He was kinda talk-active but not in the same league as she. She blurred about almost everything – socks, makeup, food – and had an ability of bringing every topic forward with a burning passion. And he always listened. Always came with these snooty comments that made her mouth run upwards in the corners. Always signed when she brought up her diary and showed him her new stamps of Lance – is that guy hot or not? – snorting and told her to 'get a life'. She loved it. Loved the light flush that appeared on his cheeks when she looked at him, smiling. He was so cute, he was no stunning beauty but so cute that his heart always fluttered when she saw his face in front of her, those brown eyes and black hair and the cap he always wore. He was that kind of friend that she never wanted to lose. And she wouldn't. Even when they were apart – which they always were – they still knew were they had the other. Even when the sun went down and the black night heaped up before her: she wasn't afraid, she wasn't alone. In fact it – in the same time – felt as her independent grew the feelings toward him increased.

She wouldn't follow him when he moved to Hoenn. Sure, it seemed like a rather interesting region but she wasn't interesting in getting Badges as he was and besides: there were still mysteries left her in Johto that she wanted to investigate. Like the legend of Suicune that Eusine told her about after the Raikou experiment. None had still solved it and she got interested. Maybe she should contact Eusine someday and asked how it went with his investigation. It probably stood still, solid as a rock, because he would contact them if he dug forward anything. And even when she considered the fact that Hoenn lied very far away – a land she barely knew anything about – from Johto she wasn't afraid. No. Because he would come back. Some day. It wasn't over. For either of them.

She held up her PokéGear and looked at her text-messages. They were many. She felt a knot in her stomach, growing, as the second got spilled. She wanted to hear his voice – wanted to continue the conversation. Only one time. She entered his number and waited for the signals to move along. One after one. Then she heard the voice, the voice she knew so well. The voice she couldn't be without. Not anymore.

"Jimmy?"

"Hi!" she greeted, giggling.

"You again, Marina?" he snorted. "You understand that you're not making much sense right now?"

"Yeah. But I wanted to tell you something. It's important, so you better listen for a change. You know that everybody needs someone? Someone that will remain, no matter what does happen?"

Silence. Then a small: "Okay?"

"And I also need someone. And that person is you. Always."

She got no answer but it didn't matter. She knew. He knew. That was enough. Always.

And she knew that on the other side of the phone, he was blushing.