Aquacorde
♫ following where my arrow goes ♫
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letter to my sister
by aquacorde
The thought of referring to you as "dear" makes me die a little inside. Are there other options? It's not like we're in the habit of greeting each other—we've always said it would be pointless, like saying "hello" to ourselves. I think that still holds true. I hope you do, too.
I'll just get into it, then.
I leave the TV on in the office these days. With the volume much lower than you'd like it, with the scrolling captions you can't stand. It makes for a very different atmosphere than the usual silence and steady, natural light, and I think my lab assistants can tell. My paperwork has been piling up since the tournament began. There's nothing else I can do though, is there? The match schedule may be pinned to my corkboard, but you don't tell me when you're being interviewed anymore.
Your voice is a permanent fixture in my mind despite its physical absence, chiming in with a response to my every thought, not one word inaccurate to your vocabulary. It's easy for my brain to fill in those silences—you are my first memory, and every memory after that. Of course you are. Every moment of our lives, we were together. Except the first seven, those were yours alone. With the same faces, the same clothes, the same first Pokémon—I know you as deeply as I do myself. Those brown eyes that perfectly match mine—I know the meaning of each and every narrow and flicker. The darting calculation, the sparkle of understanding, the gleam of determination. I've seen you more than I've ever seen myself. I think I see you in my reflection, still—every time, I flinch at the poor imitation.
Do you remember that horrible oil painting class we took when we were ten? Mine held up far better than yours (hah, take that!), but I put both up anyway. I can't say I'm ungrateful for it now, but why did they give us canvasses bigger than a bathroom mirror?
Your game for that class was easy. I think we had about fifty different paint brushes between us by the time anyone caught on. A clean getaway that time—we were better at playing innocent back then. I'm actually surprised at how often we avoided trouble, because there was always a game. Your rules, my rules, someone else's rules—it didn't matter. As long as there was a way to play, a way to compete. You were always so thrilled to put any and all of your skills to the test—I suppose I was, too; I was just able to see you more easily than myself. And I never told you how many times I let you win. You must have had an inkling though, right? Even with everything I had to deal with, I realized the games were becoming more and more infrequent. I've kept it a secret all these years that I was grateful for the reprieve, but maybe you knew. Maybe that was part of it.
When did the planning stop? I don't remember anymore. It's funny to say it this way, that planning was our favorite game, but the joy we found in it was unmatched. We would spend hours poring over maps, tracing our routes, dreaming of our futures in the battling scene. We would be rivals, you and I, the most iconic pair there ever was. Each of us would match the other's every step, push each other to the top, as we always had—in sports, in classes, in every aspect of our lives. Playing a game only the two of us understood—we would take the world by storm. Always in competition, always in lockstep, always together.
I'm sorry I had to change.
You did nothing wrong. I mean, I did nothing wrong, either. It's not anyone's fault I was born the way I was, not anyone's fault I had to go through what I did. Especially not yours. So why, for years, have I felt the need to apologize?
Maybe because your eyes don't shine like they used to.
According to all our plans, you're living the dream. On top of the world, or close to it—rival-less, I know, but you made it on your own anyway. Collecting titles to defend, playing on the grand global stage. What more is there? This is THE game, the only one that ever mattered. Every match is a new puzzle to solve, every trainer a new obstacle to overcome. Battle after battle, tournament after tournament, with training an ever-present necessity…
Ryan, it doesn't look fun.
I know I struck a chord, back in Motostoke. Back when I told you this the first time. You went full-on rage mode so quickly, and I matched you step for step. I always have. But you not only set the pace—you ran ahead and rose above, for all that you're five inches shorter than me. It had been a long time since we'd physically fought, hadn't it? It turns out that the lifestyle of a researcher is much more sedentary than that of a trainer. Falling on my ass—not a new experience for me. Getting bodily shoved out of a hotel room just prior, that definitely was. Being locked out of your room, also not new. Being locked out of your life…
I feel like I'm locked out of my own.
I never thought there would be questions about you that I couldn't answer. And I never thought anyone would have to ask this one. But who are you, when the battle no longer brings you joy? The very thing that always set you and I apart was the love of playing the game, testing our skills, solving the problem. Everything we learned, everything we did, it was for the love of doing so. Please. I hate begging. I need you turn your focus inward, for once, even though we're awful at it, and ask yourself the questions I asked years ago.
Who are you, when you don't have to fight? Who are you, without the competition?
Who are you, without me?
- This was written for the Small Writing Competition @ PC Get-Together 2024 with the prompt "competition", coming in fifth place with a score of 103/120. This is a lower placement and a lower scoring year for me- sad days, but it's always the plot relevance category that gets me. I knew that when I had the idea, when I wrote it, and when I submitted it, so it is what it is. It's less esoteric than my usual entries, maybe that didn't help me lmao. - Judges' comments are as follows:Bay
Spelling/Grammar: 10; Character, Plot, Description: 9; Prompt Relevance: 8
Oh, I do like this concept of the narrator reminiscing the times they and their sibling have friendly competitions together. Things then didn't go out as planned when the narrator isn't having fun with being a Pokemon trainer. I'm assuming at least some of this takes place in Galar with the mention of Motostoke, which is clever setting because of how Galar has a very competitive Pokemon battling culture (and don't blame the narrator feeling overwhelmed there). I've always liked your prose, I think my favorite is "Always in competition, always in lockstep, always together." I did feel the revelence to competition is vaguely referenced through the narrator's musings, but I still see where you're with your take on the prompt. Still enjoyed this overall!
bobandbill
Spelling/Grammar: 9; Character, Plot, Description: 9; Prompt Relevance: 7
This was a nice entry, and a melancholy one. It somewhat reminded me of Leon and Sonia. Characterisation of this narrator and this Ryan being address was quite clear, and I feel you captured their emotions nicely in this recap. I feel that the prompt of competition could have been better integrated - it was done fine, but not as solidly as other entries. I didn't spot any typos, although "for all that you're five inches shorter than me." felt like it could have been worded slightly differently. Nice work!
CoolKid575
Spelling/Grammar: 10; Character, Plot, Description: 9; Prompt Relevance: 6
I really like how you present the narrative through a letter the narrator is sending to their sibling. It allows the story to fully focus on the relationship between them and Ryan without distractions, and said relationship is extremely compelling and vivid. Despite Ryan only appearing through the narrator's memories, we get a crystal clear view of them and their personality, as well as their gradual falling out with the author. Your prose is easily the strongest aspect of the story, you can really feel the hurt, confusion and intensity in the narrator's words mixed in with a dash of longing for a reconciliation. Unfortunately, despite me really enjoying the story, it doesn't fit the prompt very well. While the siblings are portrayed as competitive with each other, the core conflict centers around their differing paths and outlooks on life, with Ryan wanting to pursue bigger and better titles and achievements while the narrator leads a slower, more introspective life. It's a compelling read, and a realistic cause of the type of rift they have. But the "competition" aspect of the conflict is smaller then I would've preferred. Still great on the whole though.
gimmepie
Spelling/Grammar: 9; Character, Plot, Description: 10; Prompt Relevance: 7
I love how melancholic and poignant this one feels. A study not of the competition itself, but of a character who is engulfed by it - all through the eyes of their sibling. Our narrator's voice comes across clear and even though Ryan isn't present, we have a very clear picture of her in our minds. I've commented on this before, but you are very good at characterising individuals who not once actually appear "on-screen" in your stories. You also absolutely nailed the emotional beats and your portrayal of a damaged relationship. The only thing that kept me from giving this a ten for Character, Plot & Description was an early inconsistency in the ages of the characters. How could the first seven years have been Ryan's alone when at one point the characters were both simultaneously ten? It makes things a bit unclear.
There weren't any major issues with spelling or grammar to comment on. I would say you fit the prompt in a creative way, although the focus was on the sibling's relationship more than competition.
Edit: Ammended to give one more point because I'm dumb and misunderstood the opening paragraph.
- yeah I bullied GP into giving me another point because he read a thing wrong. I like points. Also Ryan Hahn is a character I've had show up a few times in a few roleplays; her brother who wrote this is Martin. - links to other entries will be added as they are posted to FF&W!The Great Race by 5qwerty
Our Kind by Juno [joint silver medalist!]
The Taste of Triumph by Arcaneum
Finding Your Center by Groc
Caught in the middle by Eleanor [joint silver medalist!]
Arcade Club by SapphireRose [gold medalist!]
Delta Crowned Sword by Alpha Behemoth Blade
Dogged Existences by Venia Silente
More Brands, Less Competition? The Current State of the U.S. Lodging Industry by Elite Overlord LeSabre
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