notes-for the awesome calling superman. you are just. AWESOME.
I probably have like ten thousand mistakes or something but I'll edit it later. The romance is sort of lacking but. I'm not much of a kissy-kissy romance person, ahaha. ._.
disclaimer-IF I OWNED POKEMON I WOULDN'T WRITE FANFICTION. I'D PUT MY THOUGHTS INTO THE GAME. Which means a lot of my crack shippings would be in there and that wouldn't work now would it? ahah.

fearless

look at those fake stars, and tell me if you find them

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Before when Cheren and White and Bianca were a tiny-teeny, one-digit number called five, White would tack up glow-in-the-dark stars on her walls, and then they would play in her yard in the green grass and sleep in that artificial light. That was their version of perfect, all blue skies and pale plastic.

Cheren really missed those days.

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Now Cheren and White and Bianca are a new number, two digits, and its titled sixteen. But because Bianca's father is an asshole, as White says, he hasn't let her go journey out yet. But now she's sixteen, so he's letting her get a pokemon. Not travel, just have a pokemon.

But that's complete utter shit, as White calls it, so Bianca is packing her bags. Cheren, on their last night at home, stays at White's house to sleep, and looks out the window. There, the waning blue of midday sky is swallowed by lavender, dusted over with dusk. The world is a big, big place, and it seems the hugest its ever felt when Cheren stands there with the fake stars glowing beside him and the real ones so far away.

Cheren swallows, and tries not to think about leaving home. He might cry, which would reveal he was scared, and there was no way he was showing that in front of White.

So he chokes the tears back and pretends to sleep, but all he's doing is staying in this sanctum while he can, a small world with just him and White and those thin, cutout shining stars.

He closes his eyes, draws the blankets further over his head, and tries not to think about the change. His dreams are coming true, and now he's not sure if its a good thing.

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He loses to White for his first ever battle (and that's wrong, it should've been a brilliant win, but, it wasn't). All he remembers is a blur, his Snivy, her Oshawatt, grappling with each other for victory. And he loses. Cheren can't believe it. He's been training his whole life for this—surely he should've won? It was a fluke, luck, probably. His logical mind is twisted up by those guilty hopes.

But now its time for what he's dreaded most and the weight of failure disappears. He feels Bianca's quivering hand worming into his own and White's sturdy one slipping in. Cheren knows Bianca's excited, and White's just... well. More excited, in her own way. But why is he the one that's scared? Looking ahead, he sees the road in front of him and resists the urge to shriek and run away, fearful of the future. It looks simple, with patches of tall grass that whistle in the breeze, and clean skies with no clouds. But it scares him netherless.

Cheren wonders why he's acting like such a pansy.

They take their first step into Route One at last, directing by Bianca's signal, and before their feet even hit the ground, Cheren knows there's no going back.

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Its stupid, but White keeps winning in their battles. She bounces past him with her lovely blue eyes, and wavy brown hair, and he's jealous of her. One day, he catches her by a porcelain wrist, and wonders how someone so beautiful can be so vicious in battling.

"How are you so strong?" he asks, frustrated. There's a long pause as she looks at him, rimmed with gold from the sun, and just perfectly gorgeous against the sheer cliffs.

White simply gives him a crooked smile, and shrugs. She's changed. Normally, she would shout at him a snarky reply and they might have a sarcastic conversation, but she's more brisk now, more brief with her voice and she goes by faster. It scares him, how he doesn't know what's going on in her life, but he's expected it. All the way from Route One, he just secretly knew—that was why he was scared.

White was just... distant. She was hard to catch in the beginning, just as a friend. Nobody else really liked Cheren, and the thought of losing her, one of his few, most precious treasures—it kills him, to think of losing all those years of friendship. It eats at him every day.

So she becomes stronger, and he just becomes weaker. Cheren watches her dance away with stars in her eyes and potential in her being, and he just follows her with a tug at his heart whenever she touches the man with a single letter as a name.

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"I believe you can take him down. N. Team Plasma should be the worst thing your facing."

"...This is something I need to do alone." Those words slap Cheren, hard. She knows that they want to come, but she's denying them. And, dear Arceus, it hurts so bad.

"White, I—good luck." She doesn't speak, just pulls the rose brim of her hat over her eyes and then says:

"Bye Cheren. Bye Bianca."

She leaves with those heartbreaking words trailing her feet as she heads away, determination in her every step. Soon she disappears away and its just the nice and pretty place with shady trees and battling trainers. But everything is wrong.

White is strong, he knows now. But he isn't. That he also knows now.

Its frightening. But not as frightening as those serious goodbyes, like she would never be coming back. He knows Bianca feels it, and she grabs his hand for comfort, squeezing as sorrow swims in her eyes.

"Is she gone?" Bianca asks, hollowly, brushing strands of buttercup yellow from her jade eyes, and they both know what she means.

"I think so," Cheren says quietly. Bianca cries and clutches his hand harder, till her nails puncture his skin and his blood falls to the ground like scarlet tears. Cheren watches the air in front of him, waiting for White to come back and say she was kidding and that she's here and why don't they come with her?

She doesn't though.

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White looks terrible.

And she's always beautiful, but now her mouth is set in something horrible, like a "no", and tears are painting her cheekbones with glimmering trails that are pretty but not against her face and in her eyes. Faraway, the green-haired man flies away on his white steed, and White is just crying crying crying. Bianca hugs her, and Cheren holds her hand, promising it will be OK.

White tries to smile at them but it collapses, and she throws her arms around Cheren's neck and bawls, utterly horrifyingly vulnerable.

"Are you back?" he finally asks into her hair, breathing her in, all dank and dirty and just perfect and right.

"I'm sorry," she whimpers, cries more, and smiles a sad smile into his neck. And he knows she's back.

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[and maybe they won't be able to stare at those wonderful fake stars anymore just like old times
at least with the same feeling
but with white at his side as they stand back in her room
and bianca bouncing on her bed
he looks out the twilight-lit window again
and the world seems bigger then ever, even from the first day.
but this time, he's not scared.]

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{for you, calling superman}