TEEN: - Complete zero talking - fall 2024 oneshot

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we never learned how to say goodbye.

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fall-behind - a failure to keep up with something, generally one's rivals.
fallback - something on which one can fall back, in case of failure.

a one-shot about hilda and bianca, set six years after bw.

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Hilda briefly wonders if she should just head back.

She sighs as she leans against the railing, looking out beyond the observation deck. She considered just sitting down over at the bench instead, but if she's going to visit the lookout, then she may as well actually look at what it has to offer. The view is beautiful, she can definitely admit that much. That's probably why Bianca called her here, anyway. She's always been fond of such places.

If this was back when they were kids, Hilda would definitely have picked this as a confession spot. But that was back when they were kids, and this is now. She's not even sure if she can call them friends anymore, seeing how long it's been.

Hilda never visited this city back when she was still travelling Unova; she's not even sure if it existed back when she was still here. It was newly developed, or so she's heard. The idea that a city could be built and become important enough to host its own gym, have a school funded by the former champion, all within the time she was gone... it's a little off-putting to think about. It's to be expected for things to change within six years; that's nothing strange. Hilda knows she's the one that's strange here. She can't expect the world to stagnate just because she was too afraid to face it; the world goes on with or without her. She simply fell behind, that was all.

Hilda looks down below the deck and wonders how big of a fall it'd be. Her grip on the railing tightens as she continues to look down blankly, trying to gauge the height. Fall, fall behind—haha, that's a little funny. She smiles bitterly as she thinks that to herself. Cheren always hated her jokes; she wonders if he'd like this one? Probably not. Bianca, on the other hand, would always laugh at every joke Hilda made. What about her, would she like it?

Hilda doesn't want to think about it.

Perhaps she'd better sit at the bench after all. She's been waiting here long enough, anyway. Maybe Bianca chose not to come; that'd make sense. They haven't talked in over half a decade; why would she take time out of her schedule to talk to someone who's practically a stranger to her? No, that's not right either. A stranger would be someone neutral to her, Hilda is not. Hilda is a cruel, cowardly person who left her, left everyone she loves, all for the sake of trying to find a person she hardly knew.

She's dishonest too, she thinks. She was hardly looking for him; it was just an excuse to get away. And Hilda thinks that maybe she wants to get away from it all again. To leave the region without a word. To leave—

Positive thoughts, positive thoughts. She takes a deep breath in—the air is cold. No wonder, taking the time of the year into consideration. It's pretty late out anyway, which probably adds to it. The leaves on the trees have mostly fallen away by now, and the few still there have lost their colour too. Falling, wilting, rotting. Like her.

Hilda never really liked autumn as a kid, she's always been more of a summer person. Winter clothes always felt all weird and itchy to her, and it's a sentiment she still agrees with. Still, maybe she should've at least worn something with longer sleeves... maybe she should've asked Bianca to meet up with her earlier.

She scoots aside her bag lying on the bench, sitting down beside it. Hilda decides to check her Xtransceiver to see if anyone's tried to contact her, or at least anyone she would respond to. There's at least a couple hundred missed calls on there, most from when she first left. Probably, most people assumed she no longer uses this number. Either that, or that she's dead. Hilda doesn't want to take the latter into consideration, though.

Apparently, most people don't use X-transceivers these days. Rotom phones are all the rage these days, or so she's heard at least. Another thing that changed while she was gone, she guesses. She wonders if Bianca has one? Probably, if they're that common. Her number was the same as when she left, though... maybe there's a way to transfer? Hilda would have to ask her about it.

That is if she shows up.

Bianca seemed happy enough while speaking on on call. She was the one who proposed meeting her, Biance wouldn't be mad at her. Bianca wouldn't leave her here. Hilda wants to think that, she really wants to. But that isn't what she deserves, she knows that. What Hilda did was cruel. She's well-aware that she's a bad friend. It's completely understandable if Bianca were to be more disdainful, or more hesitant like Cheren was.

Of course, he wasn't outright cruel or anything. He just needed time. Hilda can understand that. Even if he's so close by, and she wishes she could just say hi, but he's busy with his gym anyway. And she's proud of him! It makes sense he'd become a gym leader, knowing how skilled he was. And a teacher, too! He always did tutor her and Bianca. And it seems as though that help paid off, seeing how Bianca is the professor's assistant now!

Really, Hilda is proud of them. She knows better than anyone how much those two deserve it. She's glad their hard work paid off. All the while, she was doing absolutely nothing. It's her fault. She shouldn't feel upset. She needs to smile for her friends; smile, smile, smile, smile—

"... Helloo? Earth to Hilda?"

Hilda suddenly snaps out of her thoughts, feeling a hand on her shoulder. She flinches back, surprised as she looks up, not having expected to see anyone there. She was so certain Bianca wouldn't show up, so certain, and yet there she was. Her hair was much longer than when they last met, and Hilda is certain she's much taller too. She's dressed much more appropriately for the cold in comparison to Hilda. A puffy jacket, a warm scarf, gloves—the full package really.

When did she start wearing glasses? The frame reminded Hilda of Cheren's. Was it to match on purpose? Does he even wear the same frame? Everything was so different, everything, everything. It makes Hilda's head spin, and she wants to beg them to wait up for her, but it's too late already.

"... Are you feeling okay?"

Bianca asked worriedly, sitting down onto the bench and leaning closer to Hilda, trying to read her expression. She seemed so concerned; just how long exactly was Hilda spacing out? Or maybe she's just in a bad mood at having to see Hilda this late. Yeah, that makes more sense.

(It doesn't, it really doesn't, but Hilda would rather think that than to assume she already hurt Bianca again because of her thoughtlessness.)

"Ah, yeah! Sorry, sorry. Was just lost in thought, aha." Hilda replied, smiling sheepishly or at least trying to. She hopes it's convincing. "You know how I am. I'm no good with the cold, bleugh. Just moping over that." She added, scratching the back of her head. Hilda tried to avert her gaze.
Was this too casual for their first meeting in years? Probably so. Hilda wants to leave already, but that'd be impolite.

Bianca stares at her for a second. Hilda can't tell what the expression is meant to mean. Did she mess up already? No wonder. Of course Bianca is upset, seeing how nonchalant Hilda was acting, as though she didn't abandon her for years without a word. Of course that's what it is. Hilda should just leave, leave before she worsens this any more, leave before she—

"Here, take this."

Bianca says, unwrapping her scarf from her neck and holding it out to Hilda. "It's not much, but it should help. Do you need anything else too? We could go somewhere else if it's too cold here."

Hilda was silent for a second. Oh, so that was it. Of course, Bianca would always do this, even when they were kids. That's just the kind of person she is. Sweet, and kind, and gentle. Even when Hilda was undeserving of it. Maybe this is just pity, but even so, those kind eyes still make Hilda feel at peace, and she wishes they didn't.

"Ah, no, no need! You're gonna get cold too, right? Then both of us would get sick, and—" then Cheren would scold us. Because that's what would've happened when they were kids. But that's not right, because Hilda hasn't even talked with Cheren in-person within these past six years. They aren't friends anymore. So that can't happen anymore.

"And... uh. That'd suck. A lot." Hilda blurted out, forcing herself to try and finish the sentence. Yeah, good job Hilda. That definitely sounds natural and confident and won't just make things worse.

Bianca sighs, putting down the scarf onto her lap. Maybe she's given up? That'd be good, Hilda thinks. Bianca is silent for a moment, then takes the scarf in her hand again, getting up from the bench and walking in front of Hilda. She looks down at her.

"Here, look up for a moment."

And Hilda obliges, a bit reluctant as she tries to figure out what Bianca is doing. Suddenly, Bianca takes the scarf, draping it around Hilda's neck. She carefully adjusts it, looping it around her as Hilda looks up in surprise. She wants to object, but she can't help but find that it feels comforting. So, Hilda stays still, letting Bianca have her way.

Bianca finally stands up straight after what feels like an eternity, but was likely just a minute at most. She smiles warmly, making sure she wrapped the scarf right. "There, much better." She stated, and it made Hilda's heart ache all the more. Stop it, stop being so kind. She wants to say so, but she can't.

When did you buy this scarf? You didn't have it when I left. How many things have you bought since I left? How much have you changed? Why did you change? Why couldn't I change with you? (Why did I leave you?)

"... Thanks." Hilda muttered under her breath. Ahh, no, no. That sounds all wrong. She needs to be more appreciative, more thankful. "It's really nice. The scarf, I mean. But, uh, seriously. Don't you feel cold?" Hilda questioned, but she's not sure if she does so out of genuine concern or just as a formality. She hopes she isn't seen as the latter.

"Don't worry about it! I'm all bundled up either way, with or without." Bianca replied, pointing towards herself as she grinned. Hilda doesn't understand what there is to be so happy about. "Besides, you 'oughta worry more about yourself. Looking at you is making me feel cold!"

Take more care about yourself, hah. Hilda holds back the urge to laugh. Isn't that all she's been doing these past few years? Run, and run, and run with no regard for anyone's feelings but herself. Hilda thinks she needs to take less care of herself, if anything.

"... I'll be sure to keep that in mind." Hilda smiled, hoping it came out right. "Geez, when did you start getting all fussy? You're starting to act like—"

Hilda cuts herself off before finishing the sentence. Cheren would've been the correct answer here, but she's not sure if she should bring him up. It's not like there's some rule saying she can't, but there's an invisible wall stopping her. One she built brick by brick in her own isolation.

Bianca tilted her head, waiting for Hilda to continue. Hilda wishes she'd stop staring. Go away, go away, she wants to say. I wish you'd stop looking at me with those eyes. (Please don't look away, please don't forget me.)

"... Ahh, nevermind. Say, what's with the glasses?" Hilda asked. She'd been trying to avoid pointing out anything that changed, but she has to change topic somehow. "Is it like, a fashion thing? Or eyesight?"

"Oh! I forgot you..." Bianca trailed off, pausing for a brief moment. Hilda can tell what she was going to say, regardless. I forgot you weren't there. How unremarkable she must've been for the lack of her presence to make such little difference to her? Hilda almost wants to laugh. Almost.

Both of them stayed silent for a while. Hilda didn't particularly feel like speaking, anyways. After a little while, Bianca cleared her throat, before proceeding to try and get the conversation back on track.

"Well, so like. You know how I was always super-duper clumsy as a kid? And how I'm working with the Professor now...? So, she noticed how I kept messing up in field work, and missing super obvious stuff. So, she had me do this test thingy. With the letters and all? And it turns out... it was because I couldn't see! Or like, barely see, I guess."

Hilda merely nodded along to the rambling, not saying much. Maybe it seems impolite, but it's fine. She can reply once Bianca finishes talking, right?

Besides, what is there to say? Oh, sorry I never noticed how much trouble you were having and just assumed you were super dumb this entire time? (Hilda never thought Bianca was dumb, never. The entire reason she wanted to become strong was to impress Bianca, anyway. The entire reason for this wretched journey.)

"So, I talked to Cheren about it, and he helped me with getting the glasses and picking out the frame and all, since y'know. Experience. See? They even match with his ones!" Bianca pointed at her glasses with a smile, one that quickly faded away. "Oh, but he doesn't wear his pair anymore tho..."

Hilda blinked.

Oh, so it's okay to bring up Cheren. Noted, then. And Cheren doesn't wear glasses anymore...? Further proof of how little she knows about these two at present, as if it needed any further evidence. It's laughable how far behind she's fallen from her rivals, she doesn't even know something so basic.

So, so far behind.

"Ehh? So like, did his sight magically improve?" Hilda asked, playing dumb. Well, actually, she's not fully sure why he'd stop wearing them. But she doubts it's that, unless if that's also become possible during the time she was away. Somehow, she wouldn't be surprised if that happened.

"... Aha! Of course not, geez. I missed your jokes." Bianca let out a giggle, like a bullet fired right at Hilda's heart and she wants to cry at how badly she missed hearing it, but it's her fault she didn't get to hear it for so long. But she's here now, Bianca is here. Hilda wishes she weren't yet simultaneously wishes to stay in this moment forever.

"Anyways, his sight didn't improve. He just wears lenses these days, something about efficiency..." Bianca explained, but then added on with a smile, "I'm pretty sure he's just mad about his students poking fun at him, though."

Hilda smiles, she's unsure if it's still forced or not. It's nice, hearing Bianca talk like this. Even if every word rubs in exactly how far behind she's fallen, how she'll never catch up with them, how they've been living a life that no longer holds any place for her. Hilda is happy her friends are doing well.

(Why did you leave me behind? Why did I leave you behind? Can't we act the same as before?)

"... Hmm, guess him becoming a teacher shouldn't come as a surprise, huh." Hilda forced out, not knowing what else to say. Trying to carry on this conversation feels like dragging a corpse to her.

"Yeah, he was always all nerdy and stuff... ahh, not in like a mean way! But like, you know. All smart, and cool, and stuff. Like always calm and collected!" Bianca stammered, trying to justify her words. Hilda let out a small chuckle, the embarrassment was a little cute. Like a flustered Lillipup.

"Eh? Now you're laughing at me? Boohoo..." Bianca moped, jokingly. At least that's what Hilda presumes.

"No, no. It's just that you seemed cute, aha." It's the truth, that really is what Hilda thinks. She wonders if she even has the right to think that? It's just a friendly compliment, nothing more. But she's not sure if they are friends. Bianca seems to be treating her like one, yet every word she says just makes Hilda feel like a stranger instead. She knows Bianca wouldn't purposefully make her feel left out, or at least, the Bianca she knew. But how well does she know the Bianca in front of her...?

"... Ehhhh?! Really...?" Bianca shouted out, clearly flustered. Well, that's more than what Hilda was expecting, but she guesses Bianca's always been the type to get happy over the little things. At least that's not changed.

"... Do you think I'd lie to you?" Hilda asks. The logical answer is yes, and she's well-aware of that. She's a dishonest coward, one who made up a nonsensical reason as an excuse to leave her loved ones for years, telling them she'd be back soon with no real intentions of such a thing.

"... Never." Bianca replies, unusually stern. She reaches out her hand to grab Hilda's hand, squeezing it tightly. "I've never thought that, not even for a moment." She says. Despite her tone, she's still smiling. Kind, and ethereal, and beautiful, and Hilda has had enough. She wants to cry, to beg Bianca to just be honest already, to be honest herself already. She wants her friends back. She wants her life back.

"... And why, exactly, is that?" Hilda asks. Her voice is shaky, and she knows that it's apparent. She knows that Bianca can easily tell how upset she is, but it doesn't matter anymore. "What reason have I given you—to ever trust me like that?"

Bianca pauses for a moment, then tilts her head. "Because we're friends?" She answers, as though it's a natural thing. An inherent fact of life, something as simple as asking what two times two is. An answer that comes as naturally to her as breathing.

Hilda stares directly at her.

Oh, they're friends.

This entire conversation, Bianca thought they were still friends. Maybe that should've been obvious, but this entire time, all these years. She assumed they weren't friends, she assumed they hated her, that they forgot her. And maybe it's true, to an extent.

No, Hilda knows that it's true. Hilda knows that the people in her life have long since moved on, most likely. That they have their own lives, without her. She knows that not everyone might necessarily forgive her, that she might never get to catch up with the world around her after how far she's fallen behind. She knows this Bianca might not inherently be the same as the one she knew, but even so. If Bianca is still willing to call her a friend, if there's still some place for her left in this world she left behind. Then maybe, just maybe, Hilda can take her time to get back onto her feet and catch up someday.

Hilda smiles back.

She feels something on her cheek.

"... Hilda, are you crying?"

---

Bianca isn't stupid. She may seem a little air-headed at times, sure, and she likes to stay optimistic, but it's not like she's a dumb child. She can tell when someone is uncomfortable, when someone wants to leave, but she doesn't want to point it out. Or maybe it's that she doesn't want to admit it to herself?

She can tell how Hilda cuts her sentences short, or how she trails off sometime, or how her expression darkens at certain things. She noticed Hilda was especially uncomfortable when Cheren was brought up. Things didn't go well with him, huh? She didn't get that impression when talking to Cheren earlier, but she guesses Hilda must've taken whatever he said to heart. He always was a little too blunt, after all. He's mellowed out a lot over the years, so maybe Hilda misunderstood his words...?

She'd have to ask Cheren later, she makes a mental note about that to herself.

Bianca always admired Hilda when they were kids. She always thought Hilda was so cool, and great, and confident, and amazing. Like a hero, of sorts. It wasn't any surprise that she became an actual hero later on, it only makes sense to her. Bianca knew she might never be able to catch up to Hilda and Cheren, it was painful to admit at first, but she accepted that. So long as they were still there by her side, Bianca didn't mind. She could take things at her own pace, find her own place.

Then Hilda just left one day, with barely any explanation beyond a vague letter.

She said she had to find someone, that she'd be back soon. Bianca was more than willing to wait, like a loyal Stoutland waiting for its trainer. Hilda was always patient with her, so it only makes sense she'd repay the favor.

Bianca never replaced her X-transceiver, even when everyone else had long since moved on to Rotom phones. She wanted to keep it, Just in case Hilda were to contact her. She wanted to be there, even if it became abundantly clear that call was never to arrive.

Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, then months to years. Six years with no contact, no signs that she would return. Hundreds of missed calls, missing posters, unread messages. Piling up, up, up, high enough to reach Heaven, one could assume.

Despite that, Bianca wanted to trust in her. Even if nobody else did.

Even if everyone logically assumed, that after six years of no contact, Hilda is likely no longer in this world. Even if Cheren, their best friend, who was always right about everything, assumed she was long gone as well. Even if the entire world were to believe so, Bianca wanted to believe in Hilda. Because Hilda said she'd be back someday.

And she did come back.

She's right there, in front of her. So, Bianca was right to trust in her. That means everything is fine, and that they can go back to being friends. Her, and Hilda, and Cheren. They could be friends again. Everything would go back to normal

But, it doesn't feel that way at all.

Hilda looks so scared, like a cornered Purrloin ready to take off running at any moment. It doesn't feel Hilda-like at all, there's no trace of her usual bravery or confidence from before she left. Surely, it's just Bianca's imagination? That's what she wants to think, but she can tell just how tense Hilda is. She could especially tell when she was fixing the scarf onto Hilda, how still she was. She was so quiet, if it weren't for her breathing, one could mistake her for a statue.

The Hilda she knew back then would never act like that. Never just sit back quietly like a doll, not saying a word. But, even so, Bianca shouldn't complain. Even if Hilda changes, even if she may be an entirely different person in comparison to back when she left... Hilda is here now. She's sitting there, sitting right next to Bianca, not just as a distant memory or a fading photograph, but as a living, breathing person. She was willing to spend years waiting for Hilda, so it doesn't matter how much Hilda changes. All that matters is that she's here now, by her side.

Bianca wraps her arms around Hilda.

So long as Hilda is willing, Bianca will always be there for her to fall back onto. Always, forever.