Fire and Ice

Frigid

Their first interaction didn't seem to give any indication that they would ever become as close as they did. Nor, for that matter, did any of the ones following. Indeed, it seemed as though Greninja and Hawlucha were destined to remain merely acquaintances forever-until, that is, what would turn out to be a fateful day in the middle of December. Ash and Greninja had just recently unlocked the power of Ash-Greninja, and Greninja was very happy about it. He was telling their friends about it, when Talonflame, Pancham, and Chespin glared at him and shouted out, 

"Freak!" 

Greninja blinked, his eyes filling with hurt for a moment, before quickly being replaced by a cold mask and a sneer of disdain. "Fine," he said coolly, turning around and walking away. 

He didn't see the glare Hawlucha sent towards his supposed friends, or the concerned look the Aztec bird Pokemon gave his retreating back. 

"Are you okay?" Pikachu asked later, once Talonflame, Chespin, and Pancham had left. 

"I'm fine," Greninja replied, shrugging. In truth, he didn't know if he was okay or not, but years of practice had perfected his poker face to the point he didn't even have to try. 

Sylveon walked up to them a few moments later, looking a little nervous. "Uh, Greninja?" she asked hesitantly. "Talonflame said he wants to talk to you." 

Greninja sighed and stood up, nodding in thanks. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to the fire-type, but he supposed that he didn't really have a choice. At least this way, he could get it over with. 

He found Talonflame waiting for him. The fire and flying-type looked at him with an expression of such regret and sadness that Greninja almost felt sorry for him. 

Almost. 

"I'm sorry." 

"I don't care." 

"I just-" 

"Save it for someone who wants to hear it." 

Talonflame stepped forward. "No, listen. I don't really think-" 

"-that I'm a freak? But you've never given a crap about my feelings, Talonflame-you or Pancham or Chespin. Why should you start now?" Greninja asked coldly. 

Talonflame bowed his head. Because I do, he wanted to say, but the words just wouldn't come out. 

"Just go away," Greninja said, looking away pointedly. 

"No, Greninja, listen-" 

"He said go away." 

Both Greninja and Talonflame turned around to see that Hawlucha had joined them. The forest champion was looking, not at Greninja, but at Talonflame, and the expression in his eyes was one of protective rage. For a moment, Greninja felt light, free, like his head was nine miles high in the clouds. 

Then he quickly brought himself back down to earth. He didn't need Hawlucha to protect him, no matter how well-meaning his teammate might be. He wasn't some sort of helpless baby Pokemon.

He muttered a quick farewell and turned around, walking back to where Pikachu and Sylveon were waiting. 

Hours later, Hawlucha spotted Greninja slipping out of Ash's tent and going to stand near the edge of the forest, gazing up into the stars. It was freezing cold, yet Greninja seemed to feel nothing, and Hawlucha decided that he was not crazy-Greninja was. 

He was the most crazy, insane, mad, wonderful Pokemon, and there he was, standing off in his own world where his tormentors did not exist and neither did arrogant, flashy Aztec birds, and Hawlucha found himself okay with that. 

Hawlucha knew that he was arrogant and flashy to a fault. He knew that Greninja didn't always like it and found it irritating when he posed whenever he felt the need-which, to be perfectly fair, was practically every five minutes. And he knew that if he wanted to, he could change that-but why bother? It wasn't as though Greninja ever gave him the time of day anyway. 

They were standing closer to each other now, close enough so that each was aware of the other's presence, yet still far enough away so that they didn't have to acknowledge it. Hawlucha continued to watch Greninja, longing to close the distance between them, yet at the same time not wanting to shatter the illusion of isolation his teammate had created for himself. 

The sun began to peek over the horizon, and for the first time, Greninja turned so that his eyes met Hawlucha's. 

And he whispered, almost inaudibly, "Don't fight my battles for me." 

"I didn't mean to-" 

"I'm not mad. I just-never mind." 

Greninja sighed and looked away again. Hawlucha dared to take a step closer, and when he didn't receive a Water Shuriken to the face, moved so that he was standing next to the frog Pokemon. 

"Hawlucha...can we be friends?" Greninja asked, and it almost sounded as though he were pleading. Almost, except for the fact that Greninja never pleaded with anyone. "I just-I want to be friends, you know? But I'm afraid to try, especially if my friends-or, well, those who are supposed to be my friends-if they can't even stop themselves from hating me for what I am..." 

He broke off again and sighed. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" 

"I do," Hawlucha said quickly, even though he didn't, not really, but it felt different in a nice way to have Greninja actually talking to him for once. "But no one hates you, Greninja, at least not anyone that matters, and Talonflame, Pancham, and Chespin-they don't matter." 

"I swear you don't know Talonflame and Chespin like I used to," Greninja sighed. "Or, well, maybe I didn't know them the right way at all. I know I didn't." He let out a bitter laugh. "The way they both used to look at me, like I was cold and soulless, not deserving of friends-I should have seen it coming." 

He sighed again, staring off into space, and Hawlucha considered reaching out and placing a talon on his arm. But he refrained, if only to keep Greninja from retracting whatever he had just given him. 

"When do you think Greninja will forgive them?" Noivern asked. 

"Greninja isn't the type to forgive this sort of thing, Noivern," Braixen replied. "And you only have to know what he's been through to understand why." 

"What of him and Hawlucha?" Bunnelby asked curiously. 

Noivern snorted. "Please, Greninja and Hawlucha hate each other. You've seen them before." 

"They don't hate each other; if they did, they wouldn't interact," Braixen countered quietly. "Greninja is always very defensive around Hawlucha. I think he feels he has more to prove to him-why, I don't know. But whenever they're around each other, there's something there-" 

"Hatred," Noivern interjected. 

"It's not hatred, but I don't know what it is. I don't think even they know what it is," Braixen responded. "All I can say is that it's something special, and it's theirs to figure out and theirs alone." 

No one really understood their friendship. If someone were to ask why Greninja and Hawlucha were friends, most of their teammates would reply with a shrug and an equally puzzled frown. Even the two themselves didn't really know.

Greninja was like ice-cold and deceptively sturdy, yet easily shattered. And Hawlucha was fire, with all the fiery, burning passion of a raging inferno. They were opposites that did not attract; indeed, one eliminated the other-destruction in its cruelest form. 

But fire does not truly destroy ice, not in the sense that a pickaxe does. It merely warms it, melts it, changes it back into a puddle of water. For at the end of the day, are not water and ice made of the same elements?