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Interlude - Maylene II
INTERLUDE - MAYLENE II

Maylene had barely slept all night, a far cry from the twelve hours she had gotten her first day back from the Distortion World. The sun hung low over Veilstone, and the sky was clear this morning after rain clouds had covered the entire eastern part of the region yesterday. Maylene stood at attention with a cohort of her oldest, highest ranking Gym Trainers in front of her Gym. Most of them were people who had seen her grow up and taught her, too. People her father had hired back when he still ran Veilstone. Maylene was wearing her Gym Battling uniform, a sleeveless, dark blue top and white pants with a red stripe down the sides. Her fingerless gloves felt comfortable around her hands, and she was usually, but not always barefoot. Since she was out, she had her shoes on— simple running shoes.

Closest to her was Lucario, who was just as nervous as she was. Barely a day out of being stuck in his Pokeball, and he was already being made to meet their father. He had been just as hard on him growing up as he had been on her, demanding excellence at every single step. Miss one, and he would unravel you right where you stood. Beat you up mentally so you could either rise a stronger person or break so he could reforge you into the person he wanted.

Legendaries, Maylene had been blind. The signs had been everywhere for her to see, yet she had instead thrown herself into running her Gym in hopes to impress him. Maybe, just maybe, if she had done a good enough job, then he would finally tell her that he was proud of her.

Their lining up in front of the Gym attracted plenty of stares from early commuters. A lot of them would walk up to Maylene and shake her hand, thanking her for her service to the city. It was difficult to take their gratitude and compliments seriously when she could have been working right now, or Teleported to Snowpoint or Hearthome to help out the cities in need of the most help. There, her fighting types would be a godsend.

"Think it's that one?" Maylene leaned close to her sibling to whisper.

I sure hope so. Better get this anxious feeling over with and break the tension, Lucario frustratingly answered. His eyes lit up with a cold blue, and the fighting type shook his head. Nope. Not this one.

"Unless he's masking his aura." A little trick he'd taught her to keep it suppressed, even if she rarely did so. The taxi passed them and the Gym by without a fuss.

Look, we're both nervous but he has no reason to. Lucario patted Maylene's back. And even then, I would have been able to tell. Don't let your anxiety make you underestimate me. He tried to be cheeky, but Maylene wasn't in the mood.

"You're right. Sorry."

Maylene asked one of the Gym Trainers for the time, and the older woman replied with 7:12 am.

"He's late. It's not like him to be late," she said. "There's like no traffic, either."

Oscar, her father, was not a man for luxuries. He had advocated for them to live a humble life and not use the Gym's resources for their own gain for as long as she could remember, or at least that was until he met Maylene's step mom, decided going to live in an Alolan Resort and that dumping all these responsibilities onto her was a great idea. Who knew, maybe Alison had changed that part of him, too. It wasn't like they messaged regularly at all beyond him checking up on how the Gym was doing, so it had been an entire year since they'd held an actual conversation aside from when Maylene had her breakdown. There, he'd called to berate her for being weak before disappearing again, but she had already hit rock bottom so it hadn't had much of an effect.

It took another seven minutes for Oscar Suzuki to arrive, and he did so in one of Veilstone's taxis, as predicted. As soon as Maylene saw him step out of the car, she found it difficult to breathe clearly. Her hands behind her back twitched, and she had to stop her eyes from darting all around her Gym Trainers. Her father was not the stereotypical fighting specialist. He did not have the body of a body-builder, although he was toned, as was shown by the tanktop he was wearing. He had the same uniform as her on, and in his— in her Gym, it was reserved only for Gym Leaders. Her father still had a head full of pink hair, although his was more of a faded color than hers, akin to Charon's. Usually it would be short— he had always told her to keep her hair short to stop it from being grabbed in a fight— but his time in Alola had allowed him to let himself go. It was long enough to reach his neck, now, and had been curled. It looked like a wave cascading around his head.

Speaking of his time in Alola, he was still relatively tanned. Oscar said something to his taxi driver with a loud laugh before looping around the car to let Maylene's step-mother out, as if she couldn't open the damn door herself. Alison was a delicate little thing, akin to a flower. Her father had met her during the Gym Trainer hiring process, and that meant she was young. Twenty years younger than him, at a striking twenty-six years old. Young enough to be her older sister. She'd been rejected at the interview stage two years back for reasons unknown to Maylene, but they went out for coffee that very week-end, and the rest was history. A year later, they were married and decided on a honeymoon that had never ended.

Instead of being tanned, she just carried the remains of sunburns on her arms and legs. Maylene's step-mother was dressed in what the Gym Leader figured must have been a traditional Alolan garb, an ankle-length dress with colorful, flowery patterns and fabric that flowed like water. Her light brown hair… ugh, they had the same Arceus damned hairstyle. It was enough to make her want to puke—

It was when they both swung around the car, that Maylene figured why her father had helped her up.

Alison was pregnant.

She was pregnant. She was pregnant. She was pregnant. She was pregnant. She was pregnant.

A small nudge from Lucario snapped her back to reality, although she wished she was fucking dreaming. Her father hadn't thought it a good idea to fucking tell her? Maylene gripped her wrist behind her back and struggled to contain the wisps of aura desperate to burst out of every inch of her skin to accompany her anger. Oscar and Alison walked up the Gym steps, and every single Gym Trainer bowed their heads, including Lucario.

Maylene did not. Only she was Gym Leader, and therefore above her father in status, but the fact that he had hidden a pregnancy from her— he was staring; staring her down so intensely she wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He looked larger than life, and each second he did so was like she was being crushed under the weight of his expectations.

She lowered her head.

The dam of tension broke. Finally, she could breathe again. "Maylene! Oh, it's good to see you." Oscar wrapped her into a tight and uncomfortable embrace that she didn't care for. "Sorry for the tardiness, it looks like every single taxi decided to have a day off. Sloppy." He clapped Lucario's shoulder next, and the fighting type answered with a nervous smile and greeting. "I missed you too, Lucario. I hope you've been taking good care of Maylene."

Oscar then greeted the cortege of Gym Trainers one by one, which was going to take a while, but was the reason why he had such dedicated personnel here at the Gym. Maylene glared at Alison when she ignored her greeting as usual. She wasn't a bad person or anything, or at least Maylene didn't think so. Maybe a little aloof. It was unfair of Maylene to expect a twenty-six year old to be the mother-figure she never had (or at least until she got herself pregnant; she was going to have to be a mother soon enough). The problem was that she just constantly acted like Maylene didn't exist, like so, and the Gym Leader didn't find it in her to say hello louder or confront her about it.

The reception now over, Oscar led everyone inside the Gym. Already, he was acting like he was in charge even if he had been neglecting his duties the year he had met Alison and then dumped them all on Maylene because he was so madly in fucking love. Where had all that 'duty' talk been for, if he was going to be a hypocrite about it? Irritating. Balloons in the lobby had been set up to spell out 'WELCOME BACK, OSCAR' right above reception, and nearly eighty Gym Trainers erupted into a thunderous applause as soon as they stepped foot in the building. The man of the hour laughed, making small talk with his employees he hadn't seen in over a year while his wife hung off his arm like a leech.

All Maylene could do was observe with Lucario. Some people just had this… this magnetic property to them. Like, they could step into a room and immediately capture the attention of everyone in it. To some, it was innate, like Cynthia, but Maylene's dad had cultivated this reputation in Veilstone over the decades, and even more so in his Gym. The year Maylene had been in charge had done very little to change that. You couldn't cut away at the roots he'd planted so quickly.

He's just come back and he's already acting like he owns the place, Lucario grouched with his arms crossed. How annoying. It was us who kept it standing. Why does he get the damn victory lap?

She wanted to reply, but didn't. Her father's hearing was as sharp as hers, so for many years, it was only Lucario, who had been able to vent his frustrations whenever a day got tough.

Outwardly, Maylene appeared zen. She had, after all, learned to pretend that she wasn't angry, or frustrated, or sad, or feeling any kind of negative emotion with Oscar in the vicinity. Drinks were brought by a few trainers, though none of them were alcoholic. They'd come from pressed fruits they'd bought at the grocery store yesterday, and of course the Gym had paid for those. Oscar grabbed some freshly pressed mango juice and jokingly complained about how bad it was compared to Alola.

Maylene ground her teeth. She had busted her ass to get this shit ready, so even a joke was getting on her nerves. She hated the fact that she found it difficult to hide what she was feeling, now. A year ago this would have gone over her head, but now…

Stay calm, Lucario whispered into her mind. The day is just beginning.

Alison cackled at every single joke Oscar made with that obnoxious Honchkrow-like sound she called a laugh, but most of her time was spent recounting how beautiful or welcoming Alola was. Oh, did you know they went hang gliding over Akala Island? Oh, you just had to hear about the food, they ate like kings every single day! What about the resort with the fucking 10 pools, the lazy river and the minigolf? The Aether Foundation having built a completely artificial island called Aether Paradise where they cared for Pokemon who needed it? While she'd been working day and night here to keep the Gym running and stop Team Galactic, they'd been having a grand old time!

Fuck off.

"Maylene." Oscar slowly approached her, carrying the confident swagger of a man that owned the world. "What's wrong? Your aura's showing." His hand gently gripped her shoulder, and it was only now that he noticed the hearing aid in her ear. His finger traced its contour, but he didn't say anything.

The blue light permeating through her skin was snuffed out like a candle. Instinctively, she lowered her head, staring at his feet instead of into his eyes.

Giratina had stood not one hundred feet from her, yet her father still made her feel like this. Pathetic.

"Just a little tired," Maylene finally answered. "I—I've been working long hours 'cause I'm helping out the other cities. I've been helping with their paperwork and such, too, when I can."

Finally, she gathered the courage to face him. A prideful smile stretched across his lips. "You're as diligent as always, Maylene."

"You heard her! My daughter's tired!" His voice bellowed across the room. Aura coalesced on his palms, and he clapped them twice. Each sound was a thunderclap reminiscent of yesterday's weather. "Enough partying! Drain your glasses and it's back to work!"

They did just that. Within the next five minutes, the lobby was empty. There was no need for a receptionist when the Gym was closed, after all. Alison and Oscar still remained, the former of which had opted to go on her phone.

"I'm tired, too," she complained. "Sinnoh's totally harshing my vibes right now, it's so depressing compared to Alola."

Before Maylene could protest at how out of touch that was, her father spoke up, "Why don't you go to my old room and rest?" he asked. Maylene had known him long enough to know that the calm in his tone was just a facade. The easiest way to tell was the unnatural smoothness in his voice, but also how he suddenly took three steps away from her. It was good to see that he still cared, at least. "I hope you didn't convert it to something else." Maylene shook her head. "Good. Maylene and I have some catching up to do."

Alison chewed on her lip for a moment. "Are you sure you don't need me here?"

Why would he ever need you here? You don't do anything.

"No, we'll be just fine on our own." He forced a smile. "I'll check up on you and the baby later."

Finally, she took the hint and left, leaving the three of them alone. Lucario shifted uncomfortably under Oscar's gaze, and Maylene could barely even meet it.

"Surprised?" He watched his wife exit the lobby with his arms crossed. "You're getting a baby brother soon. Sorry about her, by the way. She didn't want to come back, so she's a little miffed."

"It's okay," Maylene lied. She never got so many excuses.

"Thanks for the party, but," here we go, "what's with the way you carry yourself?" Gone was the soft tone he'd used for his wife. Her father spoke down to her, his face marred with displeasure. "You sat in the corner for twenty minutes; people barely noticed you were there at all! I raised you better than that!" Maylene flinched at the sudden yell. "You are a Gym Leader, you need to act like it. If you keep acting so lost and weak, people will notice. It'll reflect badly on the Gym, especially in these trying times!"

You were the one who wore a Gym Leader's clothes.

You were the one who stared me down until I bowed my head in front of the others.

You were the one who acted like you were in charge and didn't leave enough oxygen in the room for me to speak.

You were the one who taught me to be subservient to you.


She wanted to say all of this…

A pathetic, coarse "yes, sir," was all that came out.

He clapped her shoulder. "Good, good. Now, show me around the Gym, will you?"

What followed was the longest hour of Maylene's life. No, correction; the longest hour since she had helped Grace and the others save the world. She would show her father around the Gym, both the old and the new, and at first, he would praise her. Make her breathe a sigh of relief and allow a small amount of pride to rise in her chest. Allow her to smile and look up at him, as if to say 'I did a good job?!'.

Then, he would notice something.

It was always the minutest of things. Like too much dust gathering in a corner, or there being not enough four-badge Pokemon, or her not handling the training of the 1st and 2nd-badge level Pokemon anymore after her break, or them having too many Gym Trainers on payroll because she could handle more work, or that Lucario wasn't doing enough, or that—

Or, or, or. There was always something, it was never enough.

No matter how Maylene believed that this time, this room, this hallway, he would not find anything to yell at her about, her father always found a way.

And then he broke her down. Slowly, first. "You are better than this, I know it," he would say. But the more wrong he found, the more these backhanded encouragements turned to insults. "Worthless," he would call her. "You should never have been made Gym Leader. I should have picked x, or y, or even z." Maylene had long learned to disassociate when her father did this to her, so she could barely keep track of what he was saying. That worked for some time, until he asked her "Are you paying attention? Am I boring you?" and suddenly she was forcefully dragged back into the world as if his voice had a grip on her neck and was forced to nod or answer back with "Yes, sir."

Oscar wore her down, slowly but surely. Like a sculptor chiseling at stone. He took her to one of the Gym's lower-level training grounds, a room half the size of a normal arena filled with a myriad of blue fighting mats with bright lights shining from the ceiling. Then, he had a Gym Trainer bring out a few first-badge Pokemon. A Mankey, a Scrafty and a Croagunk.

"Let's see how you train them," he said behind her.

Lucario spoke up, Oscar I can help—

"No. It is the Veilstone Gym Leader's job to personally train their fighting types as soon as they reach the first badge level. You're giving them the foundation from which they will be fighting years from now. That cannot," he insisted on the word, "be half-assed. We won't be doing grapples today. Just hone their reflexes."

Lucario shrank and remained quiet.

"C—Croagunk first," Maylene said.

The poison type nodded. It was nervous to be fighting her for the first time, but it jumped onto the mat with the tiniest of croaks. Maylene raised her fists in a guard—

"Arceus, what even is that?" Oscar complained. "Slightly higher— lower! Your legs— your crouch is all wrong! Where's your center of gravity? I could knock you on your ass with a tiny push. Straighten your back a little. I said a little!" He let out a frustrated scream. "Why are you so scared? No need to look like a stiff wooden board! Relax your body, you're supposed to be fluid. There. Good, you've got it."

Maylene knew her posture wasn't wrong. It was excellent, yet because it wasn't perfect to the exact millimeter, her dad hounded her for it.

"I guess I'll have to move our sparring to tomorrow. If this is how sloppy you got in my absence, we'll have to rework the basics into you first." He exhaled, crossing his arms and shaking his head. Maylene stopped herself from sighing in relief. Spars with him rarely ended well, even on his good days like this one. He must have been happy to be back. "You're squandering so much potential," he continued. "You'll make it far one day thanks to this, trust me."

"Thank you, sir," she muttered.

She hadn't even begun the fight, and she was mentally exhausted. The Gym Leader slowly flexed, working aura through her body until it flared to life and Croagunk flinched. The mat felt firm and supportive beneath her feet, a reminder of the countless hours she had spent honing her skills there. Her father counted down from three, and then the battle began.

With a swift movement, Croagunk lunged forward, its sharp fists aimed directly at Maylene. Slow. She sidestepped swiftly, feeling the rush of air as its attack missed by mere inches. Her heart pounded in her chest, and the harrowing, judging gaze of her father pierced through her—

"Sloppy!" he called out. "What is this? You're worthless!"

She gritted her teeth. Maylene pushed herself down the mat and kicked behind her, but her foot only found air. With a defiant croak, Croagunk lunged at her, forcing her to push herself with her hands into the air away from the fighting type. She landed in a crouch around ten feet away at the edge of the mat.

"Stop dancing around it and win," Oscar pressured.

"Yes, sir!" she yelled.

Your body is a spring. Don't be stiff and let every action lead into another.

Her foot slammed against the ground and within a second, she was up to Croagunk. The poison type's eyes widened as she jammed a fist into its stomach, sending it away from the mat and onto the wooden floorboards. Croagunk rolled nearly forty feet before it managed to catch itself.

"Good," he gruffed. "Sloppy, slow, but good enough to be borderline passable with some guidance. Now the other two."

Maylene shut her eyes. Relief flooded her, but she knew it to be only temporary until he took it away from her again.

She should have been working to help Sinnoh right now. "Yes, sir."



Their Gym tour and her sparring now done with, her father finally told her she could go back to work, though not before worming himself into her duties. He had made himself at home in her office because he didn't want to disturb Alison while she rested, but at least he had allowed her to keep her seat at her desk and he was quiet now, not criticizing her every move. He'd sent Lucario away to work through the Gym, as if he hated when the two of them were together. He was sitting on the floor, just as he liked, with his own laptop on his knees that he had connected to the Gym's email without asking her. Sometimes he would ask what she was doing, and depending on her answer he would tell her to prioritize something else, but he really wasn't that bad—

No! Maylene's knee hit the side of her desk, and she quickly apologized to her father for the sudden noise before he could blow up at her. She heeded Cecilia's words and took a deep breath. Just because her dad wasn't that bad right now did not mean he was not awful. Maylene had lived through the cycle thousands of times. She was lucky Cecilia had texted her last night— or early this morning, she supposed— with many warnings. The girl rarely ever slept anymore. Maylene finished answering a message telling Candice that she would Teleport to Snowpoint early tomorrow, but she struggled to press send. Countless questions ran through her mind. What if her father tried undermining her position and took over while she was gone? Sure, Oscar would never be the actual, de jure Gym Leader, but in practice? Cynthia and the others were too busy for her to ask for help, so she would either have to confront him herself or let it happen…

She liked this job, even after everything it had put her through. She enjoyed helping Veilstone and testing trainers. Maylene liked being a Gym Leader despite the fact that she had been woefully unready when she took over. She didn't want her entire Gym to be swept from under her feet just because Oscar's standards were ridiculously high. It had been difficult to adapt to, but the job was actually fulfilling, now.

No, his standards were only ridiculously high with her. Because he saw potential in her and got angry at her when she didn't meet his absurd goals. Because she was his blood. Because her talent with aura went beyond even his.

Legendaries, she hoped her sibling wouldn't have to suffer the same fate.

But Maylene was being stupid. She sent Candice's Gym the message and leaned against her hand, which clenched at her forehead. A dull headache had been building up from the moment she'd set her eyes on Oscar, and now it was becoming unbearable.

"You know, now that we're in your office, I've been meaning to ask," Oscar said. "What happened to you in Coronet?"

"I—I can't tell you, dad," she sputtered. "I—"

"None of the other Gym Leaders were out there, I checked," he spoke over her. He got up and started pacing. "You can't blame me for being curious, can you?"

"No, I don't, but it's classified." Every time he got close to her, it took everything not to flinch. "It's literally for the Champion's eyes only, even the Elite Four don't know the entirety of what went on."

"You aren't the Champion, Maylene," he said. "And yet, you know anyway."

She was going to hyperventilate. She should have claimed she didn't know anything from the get go. "Lo—Look, if you have an issue, take it up with Cynthia, okay? It's out of my hands."

Bringing up the Champion's name seemingly worked, thank the Legendaries, because she'd been quite literally about to break and spill everything. A notification rang out both in her pocket and her laptop. The name 'Grace' on the top right corner of her screen instantly brought her relief, like she was some kind of painkiller. Her hands still soaked with sweat from the confrontation with her dad, Maylene clicked on the notification.

Grace - Hi Maylene. Is everything okay with your dad? I wanted to text you earlier but Cece told me to wait until your lunch break so you were alone, just in case the texts triggered your father or something.

Lunch break…? Maylene looked at the time and noticed it was 12:26 pm. Right. Lunch Break.

"Something good happen?" her father asked from the corner of the room.

"What?"

"You're smiling. You didn't even smile when you saw your father again after a year." The way he was speaking, Maylene knew it was one of his 'I'm joking, but not really' moods. If she answered jokingly, he would suddenly turn serious and berate her for not taking him seriously, but if she did take him seriously, he would tell her to calm down and to stop being so emotional. "I'm just curious. That's not classified, is it?"

"It's not—"

"It's not a boy, is it? You have no time to involve yourself in romance. Not until you've been trained up to perfection, at least," he said.

He had it all wrong. It wasn't— she'd never been in love, and Grace wasn't even a boy. She was just a friend whom Maylene hoped she could be best friends with one day and for that feeling to be mutual.

"Look, can I go— stretch my legs?"

"Avoiding the topic?" he pressed. "So it is a boy. I'm willing to give him a chance and meet him. If he isn't pushing you to improve and I don't like him, break it off."

She needed out of here, and quickly. Maylene scrambled out of her chair, knocking down a pen holder and sending a bunch of pens clattering on the floor. She nearly ran out of her office with both her laptop and phone to make sure her father wouldn't just look at her stuff.

"When you're back, we're having a conversation about this. Don't be long."

She ran off to the nearest bathroom and caught a glance of herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red and puffy. She was on the verge of having a breakdown. Maylene slowly sat down on the floor, feeling her back drag against the wall as she slipped down, and then the moment she hit the ground, her vision grew blurry and her cheeks felt wet. Her phone chimed again.

"Damn it," she cried, wiping her eyes. "Ugh."

Grace - Hey, I'm double texting cause I know you saw the message and I'm kind of worried.

What? She could see that? Maylene thought back to all the times she had waited to figure out the perfect message to send back and groaned in embarrassment. Was that a setting she'd turned off by accident? At least she had used work as an excuse.

Right now, her shame was low priority, however.

You - Im not gonan lie i need some help today has been awful

She took a few seconds to answer.

Grace - Okay. Can you send a Gym Kadabra or do we need to harass the League for one? Either is fine.

Oh, she was coming over already? Maylene looked around the bathroom and finished wiping away her tears.

You - Ill send a Kadabra. Ur still at that same hotel, right

Grace - Yup.

You - Go out in front. Should be liek 5 mins or so

You - Im sry i was the one supposed to help you and take care of you after all od this but instead its the opposite

Grace - No problem! I wouldn't let you face this alone or I'd be a pretty shitty friend. I'd do it for all of them.

Ugh. There was a pang of pain deep within, new pain she neither knew nor understood. Maylene didn't know what was wrong with her— actually she knew. She wanted to be special. To think like this when Grace was literally saving her? She was being selfish again.

Maylene stood back up, but before picking up her laptop she looked at herself in the mirror again and washed her face. She forced a confident smile, made herself look taller and then nodded. She saw a Gym Leader staring back, this time, not a scared little girl. All things considered, she'd handled this well. She hadn't freaked out and broken something with aura or accidentally hurt someone.

Her laptop in hand, she made her way down the stairs to the ground floor. She could have had elevators installed, but stairs always made for a good workout. Maylene traveled through the long hallway circling the Gym's main arena until she found herself in front of two glass sliding doors. Behind them was a single Kadabra and two League Trainers tending to… his every need. She recognized him by the comically large and clumsily-made spoon he carried around and that lazy stare he had in his eyes. The psychic lounged on a reclining chair with a book about metalworking levitating in front of his face. Every five seconds or so, he would wave a finger and the page would turn. Maylene wished she could read her reports that fast.

Every Kadabra had one topic they were passionate about. One that would seize their very being and never let go until they had learned enough to be satisfied. Pokemon were very rarely paid in human currency. Maylene remembered a Gym Machoke taking Pokedollars from when she was a child because it had actually been renting a small apartment thanks to a very nice and understanding landlord, but it had been the exception among exceptions. Rare were Pokemon who lived like humans. Most Kadabra were paid in food and training, yes, but mostly knowledge, which was why Blair and Matthew over here were continuously working day and night to get Kadabra what he wanted.

It was important to keep their Gym Kadabra happy, or they'd quit, be transferred back to the League, and a high turnover rate in a Gym was usually a bad thing for Pokemon and people alike.

"Leader Maylene," both trainers said in unison. They didn't bow, though. None of that with her. Then, the girl named Blair continued. "Is something wrong?"

They both looked on edge. Before her… intervention and all of the Gym Leaders intervened to basically force her to go on her break, they used to be this nervous around her. She'd been… not an awful boss, she believed, but not a great one like she'd wanted to be either, always berating them for their work if it wasn't perfect and taking more and more of their duties. Sometimes, she'd taken so many that she fired some, even.

You know what, maybe she had been an awful boss.

The apple never fell far from the tree.

She'd worked day and night to rectify her relationship with her employees. While she still didn't want to be just friends— or sometimes frenemies— with them like Candice was with most of hers because she still believed it was important for there to be a boss-worker relationship (although one based on mutual respect), she would be stupid to think that they worked at their best when they were scared of her.

She could already guess why they were nervous. "This has nothing to do with my dad, so don't worry," she sighed. "I need to borrow Kadabra really quickly, if that's okay with you?" she asked the psychic. "It'll take five minutes tops."

Kadabra rolled his eyes. And to think I avoided being sent up to that hell up north to be a glorified Teleporting slave only to end up being one anyway, he complained before hopping off his leather chair. Where do you need me to go?

"The League."

Maylene gave Kadabra the hotel's address and showed him a map using an app on her phone. He wouldn't be able to Teleport right at the hotel, but he would be close enough for it to be a three minute walk. Plus, he would need to rest for a few minutes before Teleporting back in front of the Gym anyway. Most Kadabra the League loaned out to Gyms tired out quickly. Maylene quickly texted Grace that it would only be a few minutes now.

You - Kadabra on his way. Should be a few mins

Grace - Gotcha. We're waiting.

"Um, Leader Maylene." Matthew kept looking at the door behind her. "We won't get in trouble for this, won't we?"

"Trouble?"

"I mean, Leader Oscar—"

"I'm the Gym Leader," she interrupted him and took a step forward, causing him to flinch. "Not my dad. I am the person in charge!" When she noticed how his face twisted in fear, she tried mollifying him by apologizing. "I'm sorry, it's just— it's just been a tough day." She wished she could just tell them to take the day off, but she couldn't. Everyone was needed at the Gym right now, despite what her father told her.

She couldn't afford to stick around with those two. Grace and Cecilia would be there any minute now, so Maylene made her way back toward the Gym's entrance. It was difficult not to think her father was going to jump out at her at any moment demanding to know what she was doing. Maylene believed that he'd wonder where she was soon enough, especially with how he believed she'd been texting a guy. As if she'd ever be interested in romance.

For once, she found the lobby's emptiness soothing instead of disturbing. To Maylene, having it be so empty during the day, even this early, was not something she was used to quite yet. Her Gym was probably the first one that was going to open again in the country since Veilstone hadn't been damaged, and she was excited to get back to the routine sooner rather than later. After Galactic, normal Pokemon battles were exactly what she needed to relax. Plus she'd given some more thought to who she wanted to be as a Gym Leader, and her father's ever-looming presence had accelerated those. She had been in the process of carving a niche for herself before the bombs.

Maylene saw her friend…s Teleport through the glass door. It was impressive how quickly time passed when she was lost in thought. She saw Grace mouth something to Kadabra, who kept glaring at Cecilia as if her mere presence personally offended him. Then, she turned toward Maylene and—

And…

Yeah, uh, yeah.

Okay. Wow.

She pulled one of those bright, genuine smiles that illuminated the world around her. Smiles were funny, really. It was just a motion of the mouth, but she always made it look so great.

Maylene waved at the two girls as they quickly entered the Gym. From what she knew, they didn't exactly want to be seen out and about, so she'd have to keep a tight lid on the flow of information after they were gone. Cecilia, Maylene had noticed, had always been one for feminine clothing. She had a casual, dark dress on that Maylene would never be confident enough to wear, not that they interested her much, nor did she have the figure to. Dresses were difficult to move and fight in. She had a hand over her white eyes to shield them from the sun.

Grace wore baggy jeans, white sneakers and a white t-shirt with 'just be kind' written on the front. Meltan was inanimate around her wrist like usual. By all intents and purposes, these were normal clothes. Probably something she'd thrown on without giving it a single thought. Maylene had never really paid attention to what people wore before, and her eyes had never gravitated toward someone that much; as if they were being forcefully pulled toward Grace without her doing. Not even her closest friends Candice and Gardenia. Suddenly, she felt self-conscious of how horrid she must have looked after crying and being so exhausted.

Though Maylene got the feeling that if Grace ever was as touchy with her as Gardenia was, she'd get a heart attack. The mid length ponytail her hair was in left a lot of her neck exposed. This must have been what wanting to be best friends with someone meant.

One of her trainers passing through the lobby flinched at Cecilia's face and quickly sped away toward where he'd been walking. She was quite scary-looking, especially when her expression was so angry. Angry and tired, though the latter went for both of them. They clearly weren't sleeping much. Kadabra lazily strode back to his room where his book on ironworking awaited.

"Hiya," Grace said. "Are you okay? Do you need a hug?"

Maylene wanted to say yes to that, but couldn't bring herself to. Her reasons wouldn't be pure at all; in fact, they would be selfish. She wouldn't have accepted just because her father was here, but partly because she just liked her hugs. Grace's hug remained the only positive memory she'd had in the Distortion World, so she wondered how one would feel outside of that horrifying dimension.

"Where is he? I'll kill him," Cecilia snarled.

Grace smiled. "Baby, you don't even have your Pokemon with you."

Maylene figured she would have chuckled had she been in the right mood. "Ha. Ha. Very funny—"

"Oh, right. I was joking, obviously." Cecilia shifted in place with a forced smile that was more creepy than not.

For Maylene, the situation suddenly wasn't very humorous. "You both know that violence isn't on the table, right?"

"Oh, we know." Grace nodded and nudged Cecilia's arm with her elbow. "Now, what do you need us to do? Do you need us to kick him out for now? Because you're— hey, did I say something wrong?"

The Gym Leader lowered her head and stared at their feet. "I just don't like talking about it in the open," she whispered. "Can we make some sort of plan in my room? My dad's probably gonna be looking for me any minute now."

"I see he also gives you no privacy," Cecilia said. "Expected. Let's be on our way, then."

It was hard not to be anxious and feel like she was doing something wrong despite common sense dictating that yes, inviting friends over was normal. While they walked down the sleek, wide hall and up the stairs, Maylene sent a message to her Gym Trainer group chat telling her employees not to say anything about Grace and Cecilia being here. She made sure to look if her father had been added first, of course. He hadn't. When Cecilia asked her what was with the laptop she was carrying around, Maylene explained that she'd been scared her father would look at it.

She'd muttered something under her breath in response— Maylene wasn't so sure what. Probably an insult.

Maylene ushered the two girls into her room and locked the door behind them. Her father might suspect she'd be in here, but if he did, he would yell at her through the door before trying to force it open. She'd never been allowed to have locked doors growing up. It was rather minimalistic and not well-furnished. A single couch in the middle of the room facing the wall where a small television was mounted; a kitchen island from where she could cook that she placed her laptop on with a fridge next to it, and a small dining table behind the couch. There was also a hallway leading to her bedroom, though that room was truly empty. Just sleeping mats and a window. Maylene would have rather died than let these two see it.

"Oh, so it does look like that…" Grace muttered.

Knowing the confrontation with her father was coming soon, Maylene was too nervous to pay any attention to it, and Cecilia was intently staring at her Medicham. Medicham sat on the couch, eating a banana by picking it apart piece by piece with her hand.

"On your lunch break?" Maylene asked. The fighting type wasn't the biggest of eaters, so she knew that banana would last her the entire day. "Mind if we use the room?"

Silly, silly Maymay. This is our home, not mine. You are free to use it as you wish! Medicham spoke into her mind, her stumpy legs wiggling.

"Thanks. This is Grace, and this is Cecilia," she introduced them. "Girls, feel free to sit anywhere and make yourselves at home. Do you want anything to drink? Some food, maybe?"

Cecilia turned to face her with a stare she couldn't help but avert her eyes from, and Grace leaned against the kitchen island, content to let her girlfriend speak. "You shouldn't put this off, Maylene." The Unovan walked up to her so very slowly. "We need to go on the offensive, or he'll have you defeated and broken."

Ouch. No confidence in her. Maylene supposed she hadn't really inspired any given that—

"No need to look so hurt. I am not saying this because I do not believe you to be capable of facing your father, but because of my past experiences. The longer you wait, the more doubt will creep in. You will want to delay and say: 'maybe tomorrow', and the days will turn into weeks. Then it will be too late. He will have reestablished himself."

Oh. That made her feel a lot better. "Th—thanks, Cecilia."

Um… what is happening? Medicham asked. The psychic started shoving the peels into her mouth, which made Grace wrinkle her nose for a second. Medicham was embarrassing Maylene!

"We're telling my father— we're telling him that he's been not so great to me and that I'd like to keep some distance," Maylene explained.

Ooooh, yeah! Kick his butt! Medicham cheered. Uh, don't tell him or any of his Pokemon I said that.

When Grace snickered, Maylene quickly recalled Medicham into her ball before she could embarrass her any further.

"Actually Maylene, we're telling him to fuck off," Grace said, now that the conversation grew serious again. "Enough is enough. Like I wanted to say earlier, you, as the Gym Leader of the Veilstone Gym, have the authority to kick him out and bar your doors."

Cecilia smiled grimly. "I know of his type. Consciously or unconsciously, they've broken you down so much that they think you never capable of standing up for yourself. We can be your support, but the final order has to come from you, Maylene." She gripped the side of her arm. Her hands were cold.

Ten seconds of silence passed. Ten seconds of intense stares; ten seconds of self-doubt; ten seconds of wondering if she had what it takes. For so long, she had vied after her dad's pride and attention. For as long as she had remembered, she had pushed herself to be the Gym Leader he wanted her to be instead of who she wanted to become.

"I—I don't know if I'll be able to." And yet, one did not break from fifteen years of domineering so easily. "If I close my eyes and I imagine it, I just freeze up. I'm scared I'll just get pressured and just say yes to whatever he says. I'm scared I'll kick you out instead!" Her fists clenched, and aura flared around her like oil had been poured onto a flame. "I'm useless, I'm worthless, I can't even do this one little thing after—"

Cecilia's mouth gaped as her hand jerked away from Maylene's skin as if she'd touched a hot stove. "That color— I can— I can see it," she said in between pained grunts and moans.

Realizing she'd caused pain, Maylene's aura instantly receded.

"Something to wonder about later. Maylene, calm down. We're here for you, okay?" Grace tried reassuring her. Even she barely worked as a remedy anymore. "We're here for you," she repeated, moving toward the Gym Leader. Her hand rubbed Maylene's back so, so gently.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Cecilia, I didn't mean to—"

The dark-skinned girl showed her palm, though she still seemed mildly hypnotized by the fact that she'd seen color again since her death. "I'm not even burned. It's nothing. The feeling's already passed." Even Maylene could tell that she'd been enthralled by the color.

"So we have a plan, right? And we'll be right there," Grace said. "You get him out, get your space back, get time to breathe and recuperate. Then, if you want, you can have another conversation at a later date in a neutral environment where you really drag him through it. Make him feel the pain he's caused you tenfold; turn your words into a weapon that leaves him bleeding out right then and there." Her eyebrows rose a centimeter, as if she'd remembered something. "Or— you know, never see him again. I guess you could want that, too."

Did Maylene want a clean break? She wasn't sure, but right now she had to focus on step one.

"Okay. Okay. I can do this," Maylene whispered to herself. "You can do this. I'll tell him to leave, I'll tell him that—"

Then,

Her world froze.

A knock on the door. Three distinctive booms that felt like electricity coursing through her skin. Her breathing grew so rapid she couldn't tell exhale from inhale. That was her dad. Grace and Cecilia's voices seemed far away now, and her vision grew blurry, save for that door. It narrowed, staying in focus, and she couldn't help but imagine her dad behind it. Deformed, tall, monstrous. 'You'll never be enough,' she already heard. He'd come for her, he had—

"Maylene," his commanding, deep voice rang from behind the door. "Someone told me you had people over. This isn't what we discussed." Three other knocks, stronger this time.

Damn it, someone had fucking leaked anyway! This place was a den of Sevipers! "I can't do this, I can't fucking do this!" Maylene gripped the sides of her head.

She heard a soft, metallic scrape, and then a subtle click. The door opened, revealing Oscar's looming frame that nearly spilled over the door frame. He always looked bigger than he actually was to her, as if he was leaving her no escape.

He had anoter fucking skeleton key. Or maybe he'd had a double made years ago— whatever, now wasn't the time!

Her father's eyes were instantly drawn in toward Cecilia's wounded face, then to Grace, then to her, where his gaze remained, and by the Legendaries, it was just so heavy until he finally stared at Grace again.

"You. I recognize you," he slowly spoke, his voice low and threatening. "You're the girl who humiliated my daughter. This is the kind of people you have over, Maylene? Have you no self respect?!" Maylene flinched away as if she'd been struck. "Making friends with the person who proved to the world that you weren't enough to run this Gym?"

Grace and Cecilia had been silent up until now. Maylene guessed it was to see if she was going to retort, but she couldn't. It was as if her mouth had been sewn shut.

Cecilia stood back up, her movements quick, yet clunky. "People change and learn from their mistakes," she bit back. "Apparently, you haven't." She raised a finger. "Oh, and also. Is this why you're back and trying to sweep the rug from under your daughter's feet? Because she was hurt and dared to show it in public?"

"And this is— this is the Obel girl. A foreigner." Oscar scoffed, then shook his head as if incredulous. "I thought you were smarter than this. Arceus, do you ever think about the consequences of your actions? About what people will say about this when it comes out?" he berated Maylene. "They'll say you're a weakling. That you're making a mockery of us. And maybe you are." Oscar jammed a finger toward Grace. "You let the people who walked all over you put ideas in your head—"

"Shut it," Grace said. "That is your daughter. Your child, the person you're supposed to love the most in the world. She's not a thing you can yell at until she fits the mold that you want. She's a living, breathing being."

"Give me a break." He rolled his eyes and laughed. "You're the cause of the problem in the first place. And what does a teenager know about raising a child?"

Grace bit her lip. Maylene could almost see the calculus going through her head. She considered her Pokemon her children, and no one could take that away from her. The thin thread of restraint she had left snapped on her face in an instant, and it morphed into twisted anger.

Then, she lashed out.

"Hey, no, you know what, fuck you!"

"No need to get so emotional," her father smugly said.

The yelling grew frantic, with Grace growing louder and louder and Oscar taking it all in as if they only made him stronger. If looks could kill, her father would have been a crumpled corpse on the floor. It was only a few exchanges later, that he—

"Maylene is my daughter!" His voice, amplified by aura, was like a shockwave washing over them; so loud it was like being hit by a hammer. "As you said, she is my child. I will decide what will happen to her until she's ready. You're just a kid who's way in over her head…"

Maylene wondered why he'd stopped.

Then she saw Grace's hand hovering over her Jellicent's Pokeball.

"What are you going to do, exactly?" Oscar asked. "Release a Pokemon and attack me? My, it must be true what they say about you."

Grace's face just shattered in a way that was agonizing for Maylene to look at. "I—I—I'm sorry, I—" Her hand shot up, and she seized it with her other one to stop it from moving any further, as if it had a mind of its own. She started mumbling under her breath, so fast and quiet Maylene could barely catch what she was saying.

Aura surged and crackled right beneath the edges of her skin, like a cup being filled with enough water to nearly, nearly overflow. Maylene yelled, suddenly finding her confidence, "Hey! Leave her alone—"

Before she could finish that sentence, Cecilia lunged at Oscar with her hand ready to wrap around his neck. She jumped at him with exaggerated movements, as if she was being controlled by a drunk puppet master, but Maylene restrained her first by grabbing her from behind and pulling her. Her father didn't budge, though he did end up flinching when her hand ended up an inch from his throat. Usually he would have snatched her wrist and squeezed to hurt, especially when it would have been self-defense. Maylene let Cecilia helplessly struggle against her, and her father slowly regained his wits and just laughed.

"See who you associate with, Maylene?" He chuckled darkly, taking a step back. "Violent children who have outbursts instead of communicating. And I'm the problem."

Maylene finally let go of Cecilia, who glared at her, as if Maylene hadn't stopped a catastrophe from happening. "The way you communicate might as well be violence, with how it's wounded your daughter for life," the Unovan hoarsed out. Grace was still quiet; somewhat dejected, but at least she'd stopped mumbling to herself and had recovered a little.

Riding the wave of outrage she had from her dad hurting Grace, Maylene took a deep breath. "I think… I want you to… um… like, leave. With Alison. Please."

It had been said in the tiniest, meekest voice possible. She'd been staring down at her feet, sweating bullets and her hands had been fiddling together.

But it had been said.

"No," he simply answered. Crap, what could she respond with now? "You need me here to run the Gym. This place is being run by amateurs—"

"Sir," Cecilia interrupted him, her voice cold and barely-tempered. "You are a malignant growth. A parasite that has come to gorge on your daughter's own exhaustion and hard work so you can take the credit when everything is said and done and Sinnoh returns to normal." Maylene's eyes widened. She hadn't heard her speak with so much strength since she had died. "I know your kind and what must be done to dispose of the likes of you. You are a cancer lodged deep into this place's ecosystem who can only be removed through scorched earth. The Gym Trainers and your daughter fear you for your reputation; you hold much sway over their fates and power over their heads, but take that away and you. Are. Nothing. Another few years, and you'll be entirely forgotten— a bad memory!" She sounded high-strung and crazed by the end of it. Her twisted smile seemed to stretch too far to be natural. It was as if it had been plastered on her scarred face.

"Maylene is ten times the Gym Leader than you are," Grace said a little shakily. "Being a Gym Leader implies that you have to be a leader. A good leader is compassionate. A good leader is not feared by the ones they rule, they are respected and liked. Otherwise, well… we know how the stories end," Grace shrugged before declaring, "you are a monster, Oscar Suzuki, and it takes one to know one."

For a moment, there was silence.

"You— you aren't that," Maylene mumbled to Grace. "You aren't a monster. And yeah. Um, dad, I think I'd run the Gym better alone. Sor—" Maylene stopped herself from apologizing. "You need to leave. This is an official order from Veilstone's Gym Leader."

Oscar was fuming. Maylene could see a vein popping out on his forehead behind his faded pink hair. His body was tense, his arms were crossed and she was honestly surprised he hadn't started yelling at her yet.

"Fine. See how you like it when the Gym collapses without me," Oscar growled, turning toward the door in a motion so fast it left Maylene dizzy. "You think your Gym Trainers will just accept the fact that you've kicked me out? They're loyal, something you still don't seem to understand."

"I suppose we'll see," Maylene said.

"Hmph. I raised you better than this," he grunted. "These 'friends' have been a bad influence on you."

Then, he was out the door. He slammed it, and hard. Enough for the wood to splinter around the hinges, causing the frame to crack and the door to hang slightly askew. The force of the slam left a visible dent in the wood, and the handle rattled precariously, as if it might fall off at any moment.

Maylene would have collapsed on her knees had Grace not caught her. She felt like she'd run for a marathon for a week straight. With ragged breaths, she struggled back to her feet as tears welled up in her eyes.

"You did it," Grace softly said. "You were amazing."

I was worthless, she instantly thought. You both did most of the talking.

Cecilia walked up close to the broken door and wrinkled her nose. "This is only the first step. He'll be back. He might speak to the press, too. Luckily I doubt he'll find much attention there, and he'd probably appear tone deaf given the situation."

"I saw him for who he was— pride and ego. I think he genuinely believes Maylene to be incapable," Grace said, shaking her head. "But hopefully if he actually tries more of his bullshit the other Gym Leaders will be less busy and will be able to help. Though we're always here if you need it."

Maylene remembered, back when all of her fellow leaders had called her shortly after her breakdown. Byron had offered to have a stern talk with her father for him, going as far as threatening to smack him in the back of the head with his shovel. She remembered as a child, how estranged both he and Roark had been. He knew about bad parenting and burying your child under heavy expectations, even if he'd changed for the better. She just wished her dad had been the same.

She just wished she had a dad who loved her.

"Th—thank you," Maylene sobbed. "Thank you so much for be—being here for me."

Maylene felt a rush of relief as Grace stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her. Her embrace was warm and tight, her presence a soothing song to Maylene's frayed nerves. Maylene allowed her head to sink onto her friend's shoulder as she cried and probably soaked Grace's t-shirt with tears and snot. She could feel Grace's slow, calming heartbeat against her chest. Did that mean Grace could feel her own heart beating so fast it hurt? How safe she felt in her arms, how soft and delicate Grace was, how nice she smelled, how gently her fingers ran along Maylene's hair and touched her scalp; the silky strands of hair she'd missed in her ponytail brushing up against the side of Maylene's face. Finding all of that pleasant was probably natural.

Her neck was a little uncomfortable because Grace was shorter than her, but she still didn't want the moment to end.

Yet it did. She didn't know how long it lasted, but it did. Cecilia was irritatingly tapping her finger on her elbow by the end of it, yet she had said nothing. Maylene supposed it might have been too much given that Grace was her girlfriend.

Maylene wiped the remainder of her tears with her arm. "Ugh. Sorry 'bout your shirt," she said.

"It's alright, it's just fabric with no meaning attached to it, I'll wash it later."

The door rasped open, dragging against the floor. For a moment, Maylene balked, thinking her dad had come back. "Maymay? Wait, what happened to the door?"

Maylene's head swiveled up. All caught up in her emotions as she had been, the Gym Leader hadn't noticed that someone else had been approaching.

"Nia?" She could barely believe her own eyes, yet her fellow Gym Leader was standing there in baggy clothes and khaki overalls. "What are you— I thought you were busy."

The grass type Gym Leader had been hit somewhat hard by the news of Craig's death, but none of them had been hit as much as Candice.

"I knew your father was coming back today, so I decided to swing by anyway. I had a meeting planned with the City Council, but it's just procedure to pick and choose where to allocate our emergency fund. Eterna has that archaic law saying I have to be present or send a representative, yadda yadda you know the drill. They're just putting a stamp on what I already decided, so I sent Roro instead. So, the door?" Gardenia asked warily. It was only then that she glanced at Cecilia, who was the closest, and jumped a little.

"Sorry," the Unovan dryly said.

"No, I just… you know what, I can't phrase this in a way that isn't offensive," she said.

"H—hi. Nice to meet you, Gardenia. Leader Gardenia!" Grace stumbled over her words. Maylene had never seen her that nervous, but she remembered Candice telling her that Nia was her favorite Gym Leader. "Sorry to intrude!"

Nia sighed, returning her gaze back to Grace and Maylene. "Nice to meet you too, I suppose."

"It was my dad." Maylene hastily went on to explain the entire confrontation, save for the murder attempts or near-murder attempts. It still didn't feel real to her. She'd stood up to her father. She used the opportunity to finally tell all of them that Alison was pregnant, and she was glad she hadn't just been insane. It was normal to be angry that Oscar hadn't told her. Growing up, she'd always felt like the crazy one, or at least her father insisted that she was always in the wrong, always too emotional, or that she didn't know what she was talking about. "Now he's gone for a while, I hope. I don't know when I'll want to see him again," she finished.

Gardenia pinched the bridge of her nose. "God, I'm so confused. Okay. Yeah, okay. I'm sorry, Maylene, I should have come here sooner and been there for you. Your father would have gotten stern words from me." Maylene did not doubt it, from how she could dismantle someone with only a glance. They'd been colleagues for a bit, too. She walked up to Maylene and wrapped her in a tight hug that Maylene returned. Warm, welcomed, but no funny feeling in her stomach. Odd. "I have an hour free, if you want me to stay. Well, it's really more like forty minutes, but I can stretch it to an hour."

"Nia, don't. Eterna City needs you," Maylene protested. "Forty minutes is okay."

"And you two…?" Gardenia asked.

"I—I guess we'll leave." Grace leaned against the kitchen island. Maylene's heart sank. "I wouldn't want to intrude— Cece, what about you?"

She simply nodded. "If your father ever comes back, give me a call."

"Maybe I should be here too in case you attack—" Grace stopped, then cleared her throat awkwardly. "Anyway. Yeah, we'll get out of your hair."

"If you want to," Maylene said with a forced smile. Maybe they wanted to leave? Maybe she'd asked too much of them, and now they wouldn't speak to her anymore.

And just like that, they decided to leave. Maylene and Nia walked with the two until they were back in the Gym's lobby waiting for Kadabra to come back and Teleport them back to the League. The goodbye was awkward. Maylene thanked them again for helping, but she couldn't formulate the words the way she wanted, especially toward Grace. All she got was a wave, too. A few days ago she'd be content with a wave. She'd have been happy with it, even.

Maylene left the lobby in a hurry, but she didn't go back to her office or her living quarters right away. Instead, she skulked around the door, telling herself that she was better off waiting for Kadabra to get here. Teleporting within the Gym wasn't allowed, after all.

Gardenia shoved her hands down her overall pockets. She'd been texting someone on her phone. "You wrote to them to help you out, huh." When Gardenia looked at her, there were no secrets. Her amber eyes could read her like a book. "I underestimated how close you were. I thought you were just friends." She wasn't bitter about it, nor was she accusing her of anything, Maylene knew.

"We are," she said. "I mean, I hope so. I don't know."

Gardenia snorted and caressed her arm. "Come on, Maymay. You'd have to be close for them to accept facing down your dad. He used to be a Gym Leader, for Arceus' sake!"

Maylene leaned against the wall, hidden from view of the glass doors. She rubbed her tired eyes and sighed, both happy that they'd gotten her father out and sad her friends were already leaving. She knew dreams of hanging out were just that, anyway. Dreams. She'd already been on a break for too long, and she hadn't even eaten. Lucario, the rest of her team and her Gym Trainers needed her at the helm to right the ship. Hell, she had recalled Medicham for basically no reason.

She took a step forward.

Maylene's hearing had always been better than average, even with her now-damaged left ear. Consciously or unconsciously, she opened her senses and leaned back against the wall despite Nia looking at her weird.

"...difficult. I lost my cool there, I should have been better," Grace said.

"Why is it that you have to be better while others can just walk over you?" Cecilia questioned. "I doubt you'd have killed him. He would have stopped you, I think, and if you did, well he deserves it," she spat. "But maybe… maybe I need to figure out how to put a lid on these feelings too. If I attacked someone in Unova this way for bad mouthing you, it would ruin me."

"It would," Grace acquiesced, her voice soft. "Thanks for— thanks anyway. It means a lot to me."

"Hmhm."

A beat of silence.

"Do you think Maylene will be fine?" Cecilia asked.

"Oh, she will. She's strong and never gets knocked down for long," Grace praised. Maylene felt her face heat up. "Better we leave her and Gardenia to work things out, though; we'd just get in the way. They've known each other for a lot longer. Candice told me they were like sisters, you know?"

"They did seem rather close."

"You know, it'd be nice if we could go back to that restaurant you took me to that one time, you know?" she said. Maylene could hear the smile in her tone. "Ugh, Be— Hatterene's so close, too. I wish I could go see her and Nightstalker."

Cecilia laughed. "I'm pretty sure that's like the fiftieth time you've nearly slipped with that Pokemon's name. She should start charging you."

"Hey! Believe it or not, I have enough stories to pay her tenfold, now!"

When she finally left back toward her office, she saw their hands intertwined so tightly, Grace leaning against the side of her girlfriend's shoulder. That new feeling; the pain in her chest came back at full force.

"Maymay, is something wrong?" Gardenia asked.

"No," she lied and fixed her face.

"Hm. Okay." The word was drawn out in a way that Maylene knew just meant she had figured something out, but Maylene had been too shaken to inquire any further.

Ah, Kadabra was waddling over. Back to chatting with Nia, then back to work.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap
 
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Chapter 319
Togekiss/Princess (Hustle) - Pound, Sweet Kiss, Growl, Headbutt, Fairy Wind, Ancient Power, Extrasensory, Thunder Wave, Air Cutter, Wish, Psychic, Shadow Ball, Dazzling Gleam, Moonblast, Charge Beam, Air Slash, Mystical Fire, Tri-Attack, Nasty Plot, Defog

Jellicent/Buddy (Water Absorb) - Bubblebeam, Night Shade, Absorb, Water Sport, Water Pulse, Hex, Poison Sting, Mist, Acid Armor, Shadow Ball, Recover, Brine, Whirlpool, Hydro Pump, Water Spout, Acid, Will-O-Wisp, Ice Beam, Taunt, Scald, Boil, Freeze, Protect, Ice Blade, Rain Dance, Extrasensory

Electivire/Honey (Motor Drive) - Thundershock, Swift, Electric Swift, Thunder Punch, Charge, Leer, Ice Punch, Thunderbolt, Discharge, Fire Punch, Protect, Cross Chop, Thunder, Low-Kick, Screech, Radiant Leap, Static Shield, Bulldoze, Hammer Arm, Rain Dance, Lightning Bolt

Tangrowth/Angel (Chlorophyll) - Vine Whip, Absorb, Mega Drain, Stun Spore, Bind, Poison Powder, Leech Seed, Ancient Power, Power Whip, Knock Off, Sunny Day, Giga Drain, Sleep Powder, Solar Beam, Solar Blade, Brick Break, Ingrain, Bulldoze

Tyranitar/Sweetheart (Sand Stream) - Leer, Tackle, Horn Attack, Rock Throw, Payback, Stomping Tantrum, Smack Down, Bite, Rock Slide, Crunch, Sandstorm, Iron Defense, Dragon Pulse, Iron Head, Earthbreaker, Aerial Ace, Stone Edge, Dark Pulse, Rock Polish, Surf, Earthquake

Turtonator/Sunshine (Shell Armor) - Smog, Ember, Smokescreen, Incinerate, Iron Defense, Flamethrower, Shell Trap, Dragon Pulse, Bulldoze, Scorching Sands, Rock Tomb, Body Slam, Flash Cannon, Solar Beam, Rapid Spin, Scale Shot, Iron Tail, Focus Blast, Sunny Day, Fire Pillar, Flame Charge, Heat Crash, Fire Blast

Claydol (Levitate) - Mud Slap, Rock Tomb, Rapid Spin, Harden, Confusion, Psychic, Barrier, Imprison, Wide Guard, Light Screen, Reflect, Ancient Power, Teleport

Meltan/Mimi (???) - Not a battler

A/N: A reminder of who has what Pokemon:
Denzel: Sylveon (M), Roserade (F), Milotic (M), Lopunny (F), Froslass (F), Altaria (F)

Cecilia: Hydreigon (M) Talonflame (F) Slowking (M) Scizor (M) Golurk (Genderless/M) Toxicroak (F)

Pauline: Charizard (F), Gothitelle (F), Braviary (F), Vigoroth (M), Primeape (M)

Justin: Arcanine (M), Krookodile (M), Ludicolo (M), Audino (M), Toxapex (F), Corviknight (M)

Louis: Gabite (M), Empoleon (M), Ninetales (F) Vespiquen (F) Bisharp (M)

Chase: Lucario (M) Houndoom (M) Zangoose (F) Vikavolt (M) Abomasnow (M) Sigilyph (F) Wimpod (F)

Mira: Alakazam (M) Gengar (M) Magnezone (Genderless/M) Gardevoir (F) Porygon2 (Genderless/F) Exeggcute (M)

Maeve: Infernape (M) Starmie (Genderless/M) Drapion (M) Staraptor (F), Gligar (M) Yanma (M)

Emilia: Metang (M) Lyranroc (M) Ambipom (M) Braixen (F)

Lauren: Sceptile (M) Magmortar (M) Aggron (M) Reuniclus (M) Seismitoad (F) Rhydon (M)

CHAPTER 319

"Okay, so what you want is to take a deep, deep breath," I slowly whispered, one eye open. I was lying flat against the ground with Mimi next to my face in our hotel room. The steel type mewled, their eye turning to a thin, disappointed line. "I know you don't breathe, just… feel it."

Meltan stared at me, and then huffed. They pointed an arm forward and took aim toward their designated villain: Buddy. The ghost had split some of his body mass and made a Mimi-sized clone of himself, or a smidge bigger. The rest of his body was off reading a book in the living room.

Mimi cried out with a cute, squeaky sound; squeezed their eye shut and shot out a tiny, shiny metallic pebble. The throw was slow and arced through the air, glinting in the ceiling lights before it bounced off the mini-Jellicent and clattered on the ceramic tiles with a soft plink. Of course, even at full power, Mimi was harmless, but Buddy played the part. He made his eyes shine brighter than a star in the night sky, then dim and slowly lost in mass, deflating like a balloon until he crumpled on the floor as a puddle of water. It would evaporate and join back with the main body soon enough.

"You did it!" I sat up and swept Mimi up in my hands. "You vanquished Buddy— uh, the evil, nefarious Predator Of the Abyss, nay, Terror Of The Depths!" I spun them around in my arms. "No one will be able to stand up to you now! Ohhh, you deserve a feast after such a fight."

I placed the steel type on my shoulder, where they excitedly jumped up and down at the thought of replenishment. Yesterday's visit to Maylene had been… something. My friend hadn't heard anything from either her father or stepmom, so at least that was good news, but I couldn't help but anticipate his next move, if it was even coming. It was something to keep my mind occupied.

The relief I'd felt when I'd been about to send out Jellicent and attack him still haunted me. A feeling that finally, the world had stopped putting on airs and I'd be of use again was something that would haunt me for weeks to come.

Of course, Oscar hadn't even contemplated attacking me; his aura-powered voice had just been loud enough to trigger my fight or flight— and for me, it was always fight.

After grabbing my supply of scrap metal from the pantry, I lay everything out on the floor. Mimi jumped on them like a kid would in a pool and started eating their full as if they were an industrial grinder, interspersed by various metallic screeching or burps. I winked at Buddy for playing his part, and he 'winked' back, rapidly dimming one eye.

For all child-like they behaved, they'd expressed how proud they were that I hadn't attacked Oscar. They'd been on my wrist that entire day, after all. Meeting Gardenia in such circumstances hadn't been ideal, but at least she hadn't screamed at me like I feared, or thought I'd been the one to make Maylene cry, or believed I had influenced her with my empathy to be my friend. Paranoid? Maybe, but misunderstandings such as these would have been just my luck.

Arceus, months ago I would have fangirled over her so much. I still did, kind of, but I'd probably have tried to talk to her about battling or something and came on way too strong.

Being a mom was fulfilling, and more importantly distracting, but I had something else planned today beyond the usual hospital visit to Chase, Denzel and hanging out with Emilia and the others.

Visiting the League's prison.

Getting it approved had taken a while, not because letting a trainer randomly get into the most secure place in the country was unprecedented, but because the people who could push the right levers to get me in were all difficult to get a hold of. It was Andrew Frazier, who I'd managed to get permission from. He was the League Commander who had spoken to us in the bunker we'd been shoved in after the bombs. As soon as Mimi finished replenishing themselves, I lowered my hand and let them climb on it. They were always lethargic after eating, so they nearly dripped off my skin as they crawled up my arm and into my sleeve. When I told Jellicent he could keep reading should he want to, he closed the book, dropping it on the couch with Extrasensory, and he looked at me like I was stupid for even suggesting that.

"I'm not going to lie, I was hoping you'd say that." Not having a Pokemon with me would make the uneasiness ten times worse. "You just looked interested, so…"

Buddy floated over and told me the book would always remain. If something happened to me while he wasn't there he would never forgive himself. I had at best eight to nine decades left in me, so he was going to make the most of them.

"Eight to nine decades is a while," I contemplated as we walked out the hotel room. I could feel Mesprit wanting to desperately say something, clawing at the edge of my mind. "Though I guess for you, it isn't. I can't really imagine myself as an old woman."

We chatted about what I'd be like as a senior until we made it out of the hotel. I scanned the surroundings until I found the specific person I'd been looking for. Instead of making himself tall and waiting in the middle of the entryway, Louis had quietly carved out a place for himself near the decorative hedges, hidden away from any but the most attentive of eyes. I smiled and waved at him, and it took my friend a few seconds to notice me. His golden blond hair was a mess of a bedhead, but he was taking care of himself now, at least. Showering, dressing well, shaving, moisturizing, so on and so forth. The scar running from the corner of his lip to his ear he'd gotten in Coronet when we'd gone to save Cece was still as prominent on his face as it had ever been. At his side was his Gabite. The tall drake looked somewhat uneasy, his yellow eyes and body occasionally twitching. I used to find him somewhat intimidating, but he looked like a whelp next to Cynthia's Garchomp.

Granted, that was every Pokemon I'd ever seen.

"Looks like your dragon needs a fight," I said with a slight quirk in my lip. I hugged Louis, which he hesitantly returned. Gabite hastily growled in agreement. "How're you doing, Louis?"

"Gabite does need some exercise, and he'll get some soon, though he's been battling my other Pokemon as of late." Gabite grunted, complaining that he was bored of them and wanted something new, like Maeve's team. Louis exhaled and ignored him, though I wasn't sure how much of that he'd understood. "I'm… doing. Living day by day and trying to keep my head above the water. You?"

"I'm pretty much the same. Sorry I haven't been around much." I brought a single finger toward Gabite, who rumbled in response— kind of like a Glameow's purr, if you were generous. My hand caressed the dragon's neck. Petting things was nice. It was apparently the universal language of love. Of course, it was short-lived. Dragons generally didn't enjoy displays of affection from anyone other than the ones they respected.

Louis simply greeted Jellicent with a nod the ghost barely returned. "I understand. I've not exactly been available, either."

We started walking. "Right, right. How's, uh, how's—" Could I just bring the funeral up? It wouldn't be very tactful. "How are— how are things?" Gah, so awkward. I stared off to the side, toward a group of kids grumbling about the fact that we still had no word on when the Conference would be. They were probably children of government employees.

"Planning for the funeral with Al, mostly." Al was short for Albert, Justin's father and CEO of Pherzen. While I'd never seen the man, Louis had been talking to him extensively over the last few days. "We don't have—" he stuttered, then gulped, "a date yet. Sometime next week, depending on how the dice fall."

Not knowing what went into planning funerals, I had no idea if that was a long or a short time.

"But, uh, Al's been great. Him and Anna are devastated. You know, Justin— he never did believe his parents loved him as parents should, and… yeah, they weren't great." He ran a shaky hand through his hair and laughed nervously. "With the whole deal propping him up as a trainer to advertise Pherzen, and then the darkness that took him over in Solaceon it's easy to see why they were estranged."

Too quick to forgive, in my opinion, but the death of a loved one had a way of making you reevaluate everything about yourself. I answered with a noncommittal nod as we made it to the end of the beige-orange street where a tram with a flock of Starly and somehow, a Luxio was lazily riding, her tail swaying over the edge, and we waited for the streetlight to turn green.

"Any more info on the funeral?" I said. "Wait!" I yelled, soliciting annoyed stares from a few passersby. "Actually, we had a conversation before he died in Canalave where we ended up talking about being remembered and stuff because of Seafarer's Day." The light had turned green already, but Louis was too focused on what I had to say to notice, so I gently pushed him along. "We were talking about our deaths, and he said he'd rather be cremated than buried."

Louis stopped one step from the sidewalk. "What?"

Suddenly, guilt gripped me. "I'm sorry, I— I didn't forget as much as there was so much going on. I mean, there was the bombs, then we figured he was dead at the Lake, then Coronet, then…" I bit my lip. "I'm sorry."

Louis nervously chewed one of his nails, as if thinking about everything he would have to change for the funeral. "I would have liked to know earlier, but at least you remembered, so it's no harm no foul." He grabbed his phone from his pocket and started texting… Albert, I assumed, and we started walking again. "For the funeral, it'll be a small ceremony. Close friends and family only. Cousins, uncles and such," Louis said. "We're planning on holding it in— in Floaroma. Where I hope to open my sanctuary sometime next year with Albert's financial backing."

My mouth gaped. "Louis! That's amazing; I'm so happy for you, you finally found the money!" The mood cratered in a second. "I wish it could be in better circumstances, of course."

His face grew grim, and even Gabite patted him on the shoulder with a reassuring growl. "Don't we all? The land is actually going to be bought soon with the remains of what I still have from my father's wealth and Albert's generous donation, but I am hoping for Justin's Pokemon to be its first… inhabitants."

"Louis, that's— that's so sweet of you." It was a tragedy, how his father had ruthlessly eliminated that part of him for so long. "I'm sure you'll help them grieve and get through this. I honestly can't think of anyone else to help them." Louis had been the closest to Justin's team outside of Maeve, and he was just… he just seemed like he could do the job. Give parts of himself to help others. "Are they still being held at Canalave's Center?"

From what I knew, they'd been let out once to process the news of Justin's death. Every Pokemon Center had a trauma processing unit for Pokemon in case their trainer was grieviously injured or died, and while it saw way less use today thanks to Sinnoh being safe outside of a few routes and areas. They couldn't be put in their Pokeballs and kept in the dark forever. The news always had to be delivered eventually.

I just hoped they wouldn't have to be alone for long. When I asked Louis, he said there were some legality problems. Officially, he didn't have the rights to Justin's Pokemon, and he also didn't have the right to have more than six Pokemon, at the moment. My friend proceeded to tell me that normally, when a trainer died, their Pokemon passed on to their family members with priority to children, parents or trainers. If there was an issue with the Pokemon carry limit, then they'd be split among the family. If they had no family, then they were given to the Rangers, where they'd be able to get routine back into their lives and decide if they liked their new life, wanted to try something else with the government or if they'd be released back into the wild in appropriate environments.

"Then why doesn't Justin's dad have them already?" I asked.

"It's an entire process," he said. "It hasn't even been two weeks, it'll take some time to get finalized."

Legendaries, it felt so much longer than that.

Legalese about owning Pokemon made me a little sick to my stomach. It veered too much into treating Pokemon like possessions instead of partners, like so many aspects of our society. The worst offender was breeding— but I couldn't get lost in thought. I'd bet good money that Justin's Pokemon would have rather been with Louis than speaking to an assortment of Nurse Joys, no offense to them. They were great and often not appreciated enough, but a bond was not something you could reproduce on a whim.

Then again, maybe I was wrong. Maybe distance was what they needed. I wouldn't know until I saw Justin's team again.

We continued on our way toward the League's prison, making small talk about Louis' plans for his sanctuary on the way there.

He still needed a name for it.



The bright hospital lights were a bit of a bother for Cecilia, however she would rather sit here than be out in the sun nine times out of ten. Pauline and Emilia had just left, so it was now just her with Chase. His legs lay motionless beneath his hospital blanket, and every few minutes she would see him attempt to discreetly move them. His upper body would squirm, and he would attempt to slowly drag his lower body with it, yet movement did not come. He would keep trying, harder and harder until he'd give up with a swear and apologize for yelling.

It was after one of these outbursts, that Cecilia considered speaking up at last. She'd been largely quiet today, as she was in one of her depressive, self-deprecating moods. Some days, she was learning, like yesterday with Maylene's dad, were better than others in that regard. Perhaps it was because Cecilia had imagined facing down her own so-called 'father' in Oscar's stead to motivate herself, and her hatred of him was far more powerful than any doubt and regret that currently permeated her soul. Thinking back on that day, every time she closed her eyes, Cecilia could not help but remember the brilliant blue that had surged around Maylene. She had heard many times that aura worked outside of Type Energy, yet she'd never expected for it to be her key to seeing color once again.

And she missed seeing colors. When she closed her eyes, she could already barely remember what they looked like.

Maybe once Chase got better and Ri was done being healed, she would ask and see if his was the same. She wasn't going to text Maylene first unless it was to check if she needed help with her father, or to give random advice for dealing with abusive pieces of trash. That girl had a crush on Grace that was growing by the day; the fact that she was so brazen about it right in front of Cecilia's face angered her to no end. It wasn't on purpose, she knew. Maylene was likely blind to her own truth as Cecilia had been until Grace had spoken to her about what being gay was like. Cecilia had watched her girlfriend like a hawk to see if there were any signs of reciprocating the crush, and no alarm bells had gone off. Grace was also utterly clueless: she had always been blind to everyone's love for others but her own. Empath or not, it wasn't like she was peering into people's emotions.

A while ago, she'd given Grace an ultimatum. Look at her emotions without her explicit permission, and their relationship would be over with no second chances available.

Over. That was a terrifying word, now. So much so that Cecilia wasn't sure if that ultimatum still applied today. How much of herself had she left behind when she'd died, for a breech of privacy so deep not to move the needle? Not that she expected Grace to do so, anyway. It was just mortifying to think that she'd changed so much. Too much.

It was just—

Cecilia knew she had grown unhealthily attached, worse than they'd ever been when they realized there had been an issue in the first place. Grace knew as well. It was just easier to ignore, because fixing this would require so much hurt it might as well be impossible. What if Grace picked Maylene over her? She just didn't want to be abandoned. Cold. Alone. Who else would ever love her? Who else would ever understand her? Who else could ever make her feel so warm? So it was, that she found the best move to be to stay quiet and not say anything about Maylene at all, lest the situation blow up and ruin everything.

Speak no evil, as they said. Cecilia supposed that Grace would be 'hear' and Maylene would be 'see' in the equation.

Either way, today was one of the bad days, especially given that Grace wasn't here. The world felt so cold without her.

"You shouldn't exert yourself too much," Cecilia quietly said. "It might hamper your recovery."

Chase smiled— and bitterly. "Right. Right." His shoulders sagged, and he leaned back in the bed. The TV in the top left corner of the room was, for once, not playing the news. He must have switched it to some random Pokemon battling program. People were trying to get back to normal. "Cece, I— my legs—" He choked on his own words and slammed a fist on his bed railings. "Fuck."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No, you— damn it, I fucking hate that you— you know what, whatever." He threw his hands up. "It was a lie, Cecilia. I'm never walking again. I'm a cripple." Were those tears? No, they weren't there yet, but his eyes were wet to the point that he rubbed them with his arm.

The hurt must have clearly shown on Cecilia's face, because her friend glared at her.

"Don't fucking pity me; this is why I didn't want to tell anyone," he growled. "I hate this. If you're going to tell me that you're sorry, just leave—"

Suddenly, Cecilia found herself on her knees on the side of his bed, grabbing one of his hands so tightly that her wrists hurt. Chase squirmed in his bed, trying to escape her grip, but no matter how hard he pulled, how harshly her arm moved, her hand stayed locked around his, squeezing more the harder he fought.

"Cecilia, what the hell—"

"So what?" she demanded to know.

"Huh?"

"So what? What comes next? What are your next moves?" Each question, she came closer to her friend, yet unlike all the other rubes out there, he actually faced her without flinching. Yes, she thought. Look into my eyes and see me!

"First of all, get off me," he grumbled. The Unovan did so, calmly sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs. Chase shook his hand in the air. "Mean grip you've got there. I think I get what you mean. What's the plan to fulfill our oath, right?"

Her confidence evaporated. "I know I'm no longer a Shard— or barely one— but I was hoping that—"

"Oh, shut up," Chase sighed. "Who cares about some magical powers we have in our heads? Ruling is about people. You and I, we're people. Azelf is a concept. The faceless, nameless, soulless fucks who suck out all the wealth out of the Iron Islands without ever stepping foot there to see what they've done aren't people— but— but yeah, I still want to be the Champion."

Cecilia smiled, relieved with the news that they were still halves of a whole. "So what are you going to do? I have a plan of action for my arrival— and a list of objectives I need to achieve within the next five years with me as Champion or at least a member of the Unova Elite Four by the end; able to push policy. Have you given it some thought since waking up?"

Chase blew a raspberry. "You know I'm not one for plans; I'm a man of action, Cece. Action."

Cecilia looked down at him, stuck in his bed. "A man of action who currently is unable to do anything. A man of action who has spent the last few days brooding— and I get it." The rectification was swifter than his coming anger. "I'm sorry about your Abomasnow. A tragedy, what Mars did to him; hopefully you will see him again some day."

He waited for the next sentence. The 'I'm sorry about your legs.'

It didn't come, because she understood him more than anyone else currently alive other than Ri.

He relaxed and nodded.

"If Abomasnow wakes up a few years down the line, I want to have done something," he said. "I want to have progressed and for him to be proud of it. He wanted to be stronger, that was why I caught him, but he supported me, also. Especially after we saw the Iron Islands again."

Cecilia nodded. "Make him proud, Chase." She let the moment pass, watching Chase reminisce.

"Legendaries, I love you." The statement took her aa little aback. She'd only seen Grace say that to her friends in a platonic way. "I hope you get that through that thick skull of yours." As if to mimic her cranial structure, he knocked on his head with his knuckles. "You have people other than Grace to help ya out. No need to look like it's a funeral all the time."

"I just like wearing black," she said.

"I meant your face, but whatever."

She ignored him. "Now, what is, in your opinion, your fastest road to power?" After turning off the TV, she leaned forward in her chair. Cecilia always enjoyed this kind of talk. "Now, when I say power, I don't—"

"You don't mean the Champion, I know." He hummed and started to think. "Could join the army. With the Voice still in my pocket and my skill I could probably climb up the ranks relatively quickly, even if I'd have to find a way to move around."

"But that's not what you care about," she guessed.

"As much as it pains me, I will have to join the system that keeps my people down. If I do it, I want to have a say as fast as possible. Feels less dirty that way."

"How does… Gym Leader of Canalave sound?"

Chase's mouth gaped; his eyes widened, and then he scoffed. "So what, become some fucking Gym Trainer lackey, toil for years and then lead some fucking palace coup?"

Palace coup? He must have read some of the books she got him. Good.

"Byron is old. He turns fifty-three this summer and I doubt he'll go as long as Fantina did," she explained.

"Yeah, and the piece of rusted steel picks his successor. Is he going to pick the poor sod from the Iron Island who wants to burn the system down, or meat puppet number twenty-three who'll continue not to rock the boat?"

Cecilia chuckled, a surprise to even herself. "Rule is never so easy. You still see him as a caricature; black and white without any depth."

Chase rolled his eyes. "Come on, Cecilia. He's an accomplice to oppression. In fact, he's not just an accomplice, he fucking puts a nice stamp on it every day and says, 'why yes, Teracore!'" He took in a faux-happiness and clasped his cheeks with his hands. "'Please continue fuck my people in the ass and I'll watch and cheer you on from the side!' Give me a break; he's pathetic."

She wrinkled her nose at the crude remark.

"Yes." Cecilia thought back to a certain Unovan currently in League custody and dug her nails into her seat. "Yet even the worst of villains have substance to them." Legendaries, it pained her to say this. Literally. As if her throat was on fire. Luckily it was less intense than when she'd tried to use the Voice twice in a day, so she did not let it show. "He's not doing this because he wants to—"

"Yadda, yadda, power comes with its limitations, I know." He irritatingly waved a hand and adjusted his seating position, lifting himself by the arms. "I'm saying I don't give a fuck and that it doesn't matter to me." A short silence settled in, and he looked up at the ceiling as if to think. "But I was thinking."

"Thinking?"

His eyes lit up with a sudden brilliance, widening as if a spark had ignited within them and was growing brighter and brighter. "I like this idea. Lets me get right in the thick of things, and it gives me an opportunity to clean the shit out of Byron's ear if he still has a soul. Get some work done early."

She leaned forward, and the motion nearly had her fall off her chair. "Tell me what you're going to do."

"I'm not going to hand in my application and go for a round of interviews. I'm going to battle him."

His answer rang out throughout the hospital room, swallowing the constant beeping of the heart monitor and the chatter outside for a moment.

She waited for further explanation, but that was it. "...you would lose," she declared without a shadow of a doubt. They were good, yes, but not good enough to win in a five against six. The only training he'd done with his Wimpod was endurance and movement-based, some of which she'd seen during their time in the Iron Islands, and there was no way the little bug would ever be up to par. From the passionate way he'd spoken, he had meant the battle would be soon, as in, when the Gym Battle opened again soon. "Without Abomasnow, you cannot win. Byron is not the kind of man who will go soft because of your contributions to taking down Galactic—"

"Fuck no, he isn't, and that's a good thing," he retorted, fists clenched. "And yeah, maybe I'll lose, but if I did, that wouldn't bother me much. Who gives a fuck about some badge? It was never about the badges for me. Fucking trinkets. If I do this right, I'll win in every way that matters, Cecilia," he said, grinning like a madman. "I'll talk to him right there, man to man. Think about it. Think about how I'll fucking expose him in public."

Cece scoffed. "So what, are you going to list statistics about poverty and harsh living conditions in the middle of a fight? I doubt it's something he doesn't already know, and if you're going for a PR angle—"

"Bah, even I don't know the stats. You don't need stats to prove what you see with your fucking eyes every day." Cecilia decided to ignore that dangerous line of thinking. "When I say I'll speak to him through battle, I mean it."

That fire within him; the flame of ambition; so bright Cecilia felt it sear the edges of her skin. They'd all had it, once.

It looked like Chase had been the first one to reignite it.

"When the day comes," he said, "I want you to be the one to push my wheelchair up there. I mean I could probably use my hands and the ramp they got on the side, but—"

Cecilia steeled herself. "Of course, I will."

He smiled. "Thanks, pal."



Shuffling into Sinnoh's highest security prison, as it turned out, took time. The building looked a lot more boring than I figured it would. From the outside, it appeared as a nondescript, concrete monolith nestled in a remote corner of the island. We'd had to travel by a lonely road for forty minutes to get here on foot, which didn't sound like long but had my feet numb by the end. It had been a lot easier to ignore my legs and feet hurting when the fate of the world hung in the balance. Tomorrow for sure, I'd start running. Didn't I have Chase's personalized workout plan he'd given me for my birthday crumpled in my bag somewhere? I was pretty certain I'd lost it; maybe Maylene could be of help to get me fit again if she wasn't too busy with work. Wouldn't that be fun? I missed good old fun. I wished I could just remember how to do and enjoy goofy stuff without putting up a façade for my kids. Actually, Maylene was busy helping in Snowpoint today, but she'd left Lucario, Medicham and Machamp— who she had gotten back this morning— to watch the Gym. She didn't know which Gym Trainers to trust right now, so her Pokemon were needed to keep watch.

But I was getting sidetracked.

So, the prison. Gray concrete blocks stacked on top of each other. The walls around the prison stretched high into the sky, crowned with coils of barbed wire that glinted dully in the sparse sunlight. There were guards all around, of course, either in towers, flying on Pokemon or patrolling. We'd been stopped by many League officers on the way here until we'd given the visitor slip afforded to us by Commander Frazier because civilians weren't allowed this close, and now we had a high-ranking League Trainer whose name I didn't catch leading us to the gates. We'd crossed a sign a few miles back warning that anyone caught beyond this point who was not authorized could be met with lethal force, which Louis was nervous about even though we had the right to be here.

The guard at the entrance checked our identification thoroughly and analyzed our minds with a Mr. Mime before allowing us to pass through the heavy iron gate. One of the ones personally trained by Lucian's who helped create barriers in the higher rounds of the Conference. The psychic was very intrigued at my brain and decided to delve deeper until she was struck by a sudden headache and— was knocked back into an invisible wall?

"Knock it off," the guard said. "Don't mind her, she's one for theatrics."

I heard Mesprit giggle in the back of my mind. The headache was real, though!

Please don't give Pokemon doing their jobs random headaches, I thought.

Hmph. Whatever, just go and see Natalia already! I want to see how she's doing! I wish you were visiting her today!

Ugh, they were so whiny at times. The gate creaked open, revealing the barren, gravel-covered courtyard ahead of us. It was actually disturbing, how all vegetation had bled away, leaving only desolation. The crunch of stones underfoot was the only sound in the oppressive silence. Towers rose from the earth, each one containing at least one Kadabra and Trainer standing guard. Reaching the main building, I was met by another guard who led me to a small, sterile waiting room. There, I had to sign a visitor log and surrender my belongings, which were placed in a secure locker. That meant that our Pokemon also had to be put away, including Mimi. The steel type hated their Pokeball, but there was only so much I could bend the rules to my favor. The room was dark and dreary; heavy enough to be uncomfortable, especially when we started ambling through the cell hall to our destination. This place was where I expected so many stories to meet their death knell, and yet it was just so empty of everything that was human, as if everything and everyone had resigned themselves to the end of their tale.

The entire hallway was clad in nondescript white, along with bright lights that hurt to look at for too long, as if being uncomfortable was the point. As if an extended stay here was supposed to have you return to a blank slate. The cells were covered up by reinforced glass, allowing us to glance at many of the Team Galactic members who had been captured alive in Coronet. Their rooms were utterly barren. From the moment one stepped inside, it was as if reality itself had been stripped away. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all a blinding, sterile white, reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights that buzzed incessantly overhead. There were no windows, no breaks in the monotonous expanse of color— just an endless sea of white that seemed to stretch on forever. The only way for the prisoners to know what time of the day it was was when their food was delivered to them, but even then they'd still lose track of how many days had passed eventually. There would be no break in the monotony, ever.

It was a prison designed to break your mind.

Most of the Galactic grunts were not broken, however. They actually seemed in alright spirits, and I attributed that to the fact that one, they probably still believed Cyrus would come save them at some point; two, they had only been there for a few days.

"There she is," the guard who was leading us said. "Inmate 58." He twisted a handle next to the prison cell, and part of the glass wall slid away as if it was a window. "Louis Bianchi, follow me to inmate 72."

I pulled on Louis' sleeve before he could go. "Good luck with Harvey."

His face grew grim. "I've wanted a conversation with my father for a long time. I won't let it slip past my fingers."

Louis left with the guard, and I turned toward the inmate. Not Natalia— I was going to speak to her later today— but Clara, named Grace Pastel the fourth by Mars. Just like Cecilia had said, she looked very similar to me. Her face was a little longer, her hair a little more golden; she had fewer freckles, but they were spread out throughout her face more than mine, which were mostly on my cheeks and the bridge of my nose. I wouldn't go as far as to call her my doppleganger, but I could understand why Mars had gone after her to cope with the fact that she couldn't get me.

This poor girl. She'd been burned too, enough for the left side of her face and neck to scar like mine. The white prisoner's uniform she was wearing was covering too much to see if the burns extended further, but I knew Mars wouldn't have spared her the pain if it meant she could be more like me.

Her look of disbelief at my presence bled away, leaving a glare hateful enough to kill in its place. Had someone else ever looked at me like this? Not even Saturn's gaze had been this hateful.

I'd expected this. This hatred. From her perspective, I'd been the main cause of all of her issues. If I'd never been involved with Team Galactic in the first place; if Mars had never grown obsessed with me because of my weakness, then my similarity to her; if I hadn't hurt Maylene and others and given Mars a reason to think we were similar; if I had died at the power plant at Valley Windworks; if I had died in Solaceon; if I had died in the raid on Backlot's mansion—

If, if, if. You'd never run out if you kept thinking back. So many actions of my doing had only increased Mars' obsession with me that they'd directly led into this girl and three of her predecessors being tortured physically and mentally for months on end.

It honestly did not hurt nearly as much as I thought it would. Not because I wasn't concerned about her; I was just too exhausted to care.

"Clara—"

She shot up from her bed. "You." She stomped her way toward me, her body so full of hate she bumped her head into the glass. "You fucking show up here? After everything?"

I sighed. From the way Cecilia had described her, she'd been rather meek—

Clara laughed, throwing her hands up. "Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I'm boring perfect little Grace Pastel. Maybe if you hate it so much here you should go out and enjoy your freedom so I never have to see— to think about you again."

No sighing. Okay. Another attempt. "Look, I'm sorry I—"

"Oh, you're sorry now, are you? I should be out here, and you should be in here." Her voice was so full of hate— of vitriol that spittle landed on the glass between us. "See how you like it, to have your Pokemon, your dreams and your individuality taken away from you." She gripped at her uniform, where the number 58 had been embroidered in black. "No one calls me by my name here. I do nothing all day, and they won't tell me what they did with Musharna! My parents don't even know I was arrested and that I'm in prison, and even if they did, they wouldn't be able to visit! This is all on you! Fuck you."

Her breaths were ragged, her chest rising up and down as if she'd just gone on a run. She was waiting, I knew. Waiting for a reaction. She had built up an image of me for months in her head. Most likely, Clara had played out this argument within her own mind more times than she could count. I did not blame her. Hate was a very good vehicle to fuel you during trying times. You needed something to keep yourself going; I'd been the easiest target to go after.

Yeah.

I looked up at her, tired and weary. "Did that feel good?"

"You think you're so above me, aren't you? Like I don't even deserve your attention," she hatefully spat. Rarely had I heard someone speak with so much venom in their tone. "Like you're better than me because I'm mad. I deserve to be mad— I—" she shrieked and tore at her hair.

It had been a genuine question to figure out if we were going to be able to speak any time soon. If she needed more hate, I'd let her hate me. No matter how much she berated me, I'd be there at the end to have a talk.

But the answer was no, then.

"Okay," I said, emotionless.

So I let her scream at me for Arceus knows how long. At some point, she was just threatening to kill me or calling me names. Bitch. Attention whore. Whatever, honestly.

I wanted to close my eyes.

I wanted to see Cece.



"Is this it, then?" Louis asked. "Are you just going to be a child and ignore me?"

Louis' father, Harvey Bianchi, had been in this cell for months. He had lost a bit of weight, but what was most striking was that defeated look in his eyes. He remained here, a shadow of his former self, with neither ambition nor greed to drive him. He had schemed for years, growing richer and richer, and he had forced his hand too much and paid for it.

Now, all that remained was a husk. Louis figured that they were similar, in this way. When they realized all was lost, they grew nonresponsive. Like Louis when he had heard the world might end, his father sat on the side of his bed, his eyes downcast and his hands set on his thighs. Sometimes, he would mumble. Others, his body would tense and he'd close his eyes and shake his head, as if to chase away his own inner demons.

All that time, Louis had wanted to speak to him one last time. One final conversation before he turned that page on that part of his life. The part with the version of him he despised more every day, with the sleaziness, the ego, the cluelessness, the fake friends and girlfriends. It had all been his father's doing. He alone had molded Louis into an easy to manipulate man so he could further his father's goals. Louis shook his head and laughed dryly.

"I just wanted to know why it had to be this way," Louis whispered. "I just wanted to know if you ever loved me, but you can't even give me that. You couldn't even stay strong enough to wait to speak to me." Feeling rage bubble up inside of him, Louis hit the glass with his fist so hard the pain from the impact spread throughout his arm. "I know you're capable of speaking. They told me you're allowed to speak to your lawyers and they come back once a week!" he yelled. "You're a pathetic, miserable excuse of a human being. I'm ashamed of being your son."

He turned to walk away—

"...did it…you…"

Louis' head whirled to the side so quickly his neck hurt. He scrambled back close to the glass, ashamed to still be so desperate for a word from his father, yet unable to resist the prospect of a conversation.

"What?" he asked, no; he demanded.

"I did it for you," Harvey said. "I needed to set you up for success, son. Mark Obel is the Champion of Unova and Cecilia was not going to inherit the position of CEO. It was going to go to you, we just needed…"

Ah. And then he would have had an easy to control CEO at the helm of one of the largest companies in the world.

Louis tuned him out.

Even now, he was obsessed with business. His eyes had some life in them now, as if he was daydreaming of what could have been.

They'd lit up now, but not when seeing Louis again for the first time in months.

He had never loved him.

Louis walked away less hurt than he thought he would be by that revelation.



Clara was on her knees, now, softly hitting the glass with her fist where my face was. She was utterly exhausted, yet when I looked at her, I still only saw more hatred. If I used my empathy, I would be certain, yet just looking at her face was enough to see. Tears were not enough to hide herself behind.

"Why?" Clara sobbed. "Why are you just taking it?!"

Alas, she had failed to get me to fight back. Clara had thrown herself against a wall and crumpled to the floor a crying, sobbing mess.

"Because I wanted you to do this until you were satisfied," I softly said. "Is it enough, now? I'll wait as long as you need—"

"That's not—" she inhaled, sobbing, "what I want."

"I'm afraid I can't fit the mold you have given me. I am sorry," I said, bowing my head slightly. "I thought that you would be satisfied once you hated me enough. Can I talk, now?"

"N—" she couldn't say no. She was too intrigued by what I was about to say. Clara took a deep breath, stood up and put her back to the glass. "Whatever."

"It is my understanding that you helped Cecilia and Maeve ascend up the mountain. Without your guidance, there's a chance they might have been too late to save the world."

She didn't respond, which I found strange. Didn't she see where this was going?

"I'm saying that you contributed to the effort to save His creation," I pressed. "I think I can vouch for you and— and get you out of here at some point."

Again, she said nothing, but her shoulders grew stiff and her next breath was a shaky one. I knew that bodily motion anywhere. Excitement. Hope. I understood a little better, now. Clara didn't want to tell herself that she was accepting help from the girl who had from her point of view caused so much of her suffering. To some extent, I felt like I'd be the same.

"Of course, it'd probably still take some time. You'd have to be assessed mentally and get some deprogramming done so they're sure you're free from the cult's influence— and again, that's just what the League would want, not me," I quickly spoke before she could blow up at me. "I think I could find out what happened to your Musharna, but odds are she's just in her Pokeball being held until they figure out what to do with her. I have a lot of influence here." I caressed the glass with my finger. An idle motion. "I could stop that and allow her to remain to you. I could bring you, uh, books, or comics, or snacks and other small-scale stuff if you need it. I'm allowed to visit here whenever I want, and I plan on coming back soon to see someone else. I could come back…" I wasn't ready to commit to once a day yet, so I gave it some thought. "Once every two days to bring you something. And tell you what's going out on the outside."

"And what," she started, crossing her arms, "do you want in return?"

I blinked, slightly confused. "For you to say yes?"

"What?"

"I— I'm just waiting for you to agree to this," I said. "Is it okay?"

"Wha—" She finally turned my way again. "Why wouldn't it be okay?"

"Because it's me asking you this?" If it hadn't worked, I would have sent Cecilia instead tomorrow. This only felt more appropriate. "You hate me. You could say no."

"I literally do not care. Mars could have walked down this hallway and proposed the same deal and I would have taken it…" she trailed off. "Maybe— maybe not Mars. Jupiter."

There were steps to my left. Louis was coming back. "Okay, I'll let Commander Frazier know about this. Your life should change significantly from tomorrow on, so just hold on, okay?"

"O—okay. Thanks. I guess."

With Louis now here, the conversation ended pretty quickly. I bid my goodbyes to Clara and we shuffled back to the locker room. My heart felt a little lighter when I told Louis about how things had gone.

"What about the other girl?" Louis asked. "Natalia, right?"

While Louis didn't know exactly what had gone on in Coronet or the Distortion World, I'd seen it fit to explain Mars' origins. Emi and Pauline knew as well.

On my tiptoes, I opened my locker and grabbed my Pokeballs and backpack. "I would have visited her, but Cynthia wants to assess her… way of thinking first."

"I see. And what's the goal with her? Do you want her out, too?" Louis closed his locker and began clipping his Pokeballs to his trainer belt. "If I were you I'd want nothing to do with her."

"I don't know," I slowly answered. "I guess I'll have to see for myself."

Two minutes later, we were on our way out.



The rest of the afternoon had gone by at a Slugma's pace, as it usually did when I ran out of things to do. Mimi was out of their ball again and out and about, exploring the condo at their leisure— under Jellicent's supervision, of course. The water type was getting better at multitasking his true other selves, not just his Night Shades. A tiny piece of him hovered next to the couch I was playing dead on, whispering to me about either Mimi's whereabouts or interesting history tidbits from his book. The other two were either playing babysitter or reading.

I'd be able to get the next batch of my family pretty soon. Sweetheart, Honey and Cass were going to finish getting healed within the next few days, but the others would need more time.

I tossed and turned on the couch, never quite finding a comfortable position. Occasionally I'd get an alert from my phone that I'd forget to check because I just had no energy, but at least it was something. If I hadn't had to go to the bathroom, eat and the hotel had been cut off from the outside world, maybe I'd just lay here and let the days pass. Maybe weeks. Months?

"I can't think like this." I sighed and sat upright, tapping my feet against the cold, smooth floor. "What else is there to do? More research on Pokemon Rights, maybe…"

Or I could text Cece. It was nearly six in the evening and she wasn't back yet. Was she busy?

You - Hey baby.

You - When are you coming back to the hotel? I want to see you.

Damn it. I clicked my tongue and quickly added something else before she could type her response.

You - You don't have to feel obligated to come. If you can't, don't worry about it.

Cece - I'm with Chase talking about future plans. I spent the day with him.

'Future plans' was vague, but I wasn't too bothered about it. The next speech bubble formed; my heart hammered in my chest and my hands clammed up when I awaited her response.

Cece - I can come back. We were going to finish soon.

I gasped in relief and kicked my feet.

You - See you soon <3

Happiness had permeated through me already. I found it so much easier to get up and get the place in order. We had some dirty clothes lying around— some of which I threw in the laundry. Plates and cups which had been littering, I put in the dishwasher, and I opened the windows to cycle some air through the place, allowing the setting sun to filter through. I hadn't even realized how much time flew by by the time I heard the door click open before I could get started on dinner.

I took a peek from behind a wall and grinned. "You look like you had a good time." She wasn't smiling or anything— ah, well, she was now, but it was more about how she carried herself. She was a lot more… relaxed, but not too much like when she attacked Oscar.

"Chase and I had a very productive conversation," she said, carefully taking off her shoes.

"Hm? About?"

"He asked me to keep a lid on it for now. Though he told me he apologized for what he said to you. About how you figured out his legs weren't going to get better."

So he had told her. Good; the sooner the truth came out, the more united we'd be to get through this. It was hypocritical of me given that they still didn't know the full extent of what had happened— and outside of Chase, they would never know— but that was entirely different. The apology was welcomed, too. At least I knew he hadn't really meant what he'd said.

I wrapped my arms around Cece and placed my head on her chest, tucking my head right under her chin. One of her hands came up to stroke my hair.

"What's wrong? Did Clara refuse your offer?" Cece asked once the hug continued for longer than usual.

"She didn't, it was just… hard. I'm just recharging. You're my charger." I inhaled loudly, and we both laughed. "What? You smell good!" I giggled. "I love you. I—I need you."

Her heart skipped a beat.

I looked up at her; I could feel her breath on my lips. Before she died, she would have kissed me right then and there, but I guess I had to take the lead because she wasn't sure of herself. I only had to stand on my tiptoes and—

The ringing phone didn't have to interrupt our kiss, but Cecilia instantly felt off the moment she heard it, like she wasn't into it as much anymore andshe was preoccupied by something else. I should have put the damn thing on silent like I usually did, but I'd turned on alerts to get a break from how monotonous the day had been.

It was a message from Mallory Ryan, asking me to meet tonight and saying that this would be her last and final offer. I quickly explained the situation to Cece.

"Oh. I see," she nervously said.

"Damn it," I sighed. "This is like an ambush."

She was flipping the table and seeing if I wanted this meeting as much as her. To see how committed I was to the cause after our argument after my interview. She'd even offered to send a Teleporter herself— rich people like her often hired psychic trainers for their small-scale travel, though I knew there was a bill currently passing through the Directorate to draft those people and Pokemon while help from Indigo got here.

"Guess I didn't give her enough credit," I slowly said before staring back at Cece. "Should I—"

"You should," Cece said. "Of course, you should."

"Yeah." My shoulders sagged. "I should."

It was time to face the music.

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Chapter 320
CHAPTER 320

Getting to the address Mallory Ryan had provided me had been tough. First I'd needed to catch a ride from a Kadabra, and to get one as soon as possible, I asked to be sent to Sunyshore. It was easier to get one the less distance I had to travel, given that it took less energy of them and they could get back to whatever they'd been doing at the League quicker. Had I not been privileged after saving the world, this single step would have been impossible.

The reason it was necessary, however, was because the Lily of the Valley Island was still on lockdown. Mallory sending one of the Teleporters on her payroll wasn't allowed; they would instantly get pinged by one of the many other psychics keeping track of every inch of the island, and as it stood, the League was still in 'attack first and ask questions later' mode. The Kadabra had brought me to one of the Pokemon Centers— this one close to the boardwalk. Ten minutes away from here, the destruction Team Galactic had brought would be on full display. Inside were many trainers and their Pokemon in lower spirits than usual. There wasn't much to be happy about these days. I'd had no time to get dressed properly, so I was still wearing my usual t-shirt and jeans; I had thrown a hoodie on top to hide my face while needing to hide my presence in Sunyshore.

Moments later appeared a Pokemon I'd never seen before, yet I knew littered the caves of Unova and once Orre, occupying similar niches as the Zubat line. His body was covered in soft, velvety fur, primarily a deep shade of cobalt blue, and the glow of his heart-shaped nose faded in line with his powers. The second I saw the Swoobat quietly pop into existence in the sky above the Pokemon center, I knew he had come for me, so I gestured and waved until I was spotted. One could rarely mistake such purpose in a being's eyes. The flying type glided down toward me, nearly bumping into the Pokemon Center's Pokeball sign glowing faintly in the night in the process; he was quite the clumsy flier, I noticed, but it looked like he could at least Teleport properly. I scanned the surroundings looking for a trainer, but found none. Swoobat had come alone.

MY APOLOGIES, HONORED ONE, Swoobat spoke— yelled telepathically. I'd never heard a psychic be so loud. The closest to this was Jasmine's Metagross. I AM HERE TO TELEPORT YOU TO JUBILIFE. I HAVE BEEN INSTRUCTED TO… he trailed off. UH OH. WHAT HAVE I BEEN INTRUCTED TO DO AGAIN? RIGHT! RIIIIIIGHT! TO TELL YOU THAT IF YOU WISHED TO TURN BACK, NOW WAS THE TIME! THIS IS YOUR FINAL OPPORTUNITY! The bat heartily flapped his wings, as if he had not told me the most ominous thing he could have said before this tense meeting.

It did make me hesitate a little bit. I didn't think Mallory would do anything drastic like attack me, or whatever— and if the impossible happened and she somehow did this, Buddy would wipe the floor with anyone she could bring— but I did think she was the kind to make a social situation as uncomfortable as possible, which would possibly lead into an argument.

And arguments… well, when I had one with Maylene's dad I defaulted to trying to kill him.

Still, I was not deterred.

"Can we just hurry? I don't want to be seen," I said, pulling the top of my hood down. The longer I stood around here, the more likely this became, especially with Swoobat being such a bad flier attracting attention.

Swoobat grinned, revealing sharp teeth. I'M GLAD. I AM INTRIGUED IN YOU, HONORED ONE. YOU CAN UNDERSTAND US, AFTER ALL— he bumped into a passerby, who told me to watch it as if Swoobat was my Pokemon. YOU WATCH IT! Swoobat hissed, throwing out a few vocal insults. Hearing my transporter calling someone's mother a whore had not been on my bingo card for tonight. AS I WAS SAYING, YOUR CAPABILITY TO UNDERSTAND MY KIND IS OF GREAT INTEREST TO ME AND MY PARTNER! NOW, LET US BE ON OUR WAY!

By the time we finished that sentence, we were somewhere else. I was greeted by high ceilings adorned with an elegant chandelier that cast a warm, golden light over the intricate wooden flooring. Not very unique as far as decorations went, but it made me feel like I was in another world. This place was even more luxurious than the condo Cece and I were staying in and I immediately felt underdressed. Swoobat dropped to the ground and decided to hop forward instead of flying around, possibly out of fear of breaking something, and he told me to follow.

Jazz music that Swoobat hummed to softly played throughout the apartment as he led me forward. Each room I passed by or through was the apex of what money could bring you in Jubilife. It was as if every detail in the apartment, from the recessed lighting to the rich wood flooring, to each extravagant painting that looked like it had been plucked out of a modern art museum, had been meticulously chosen to appear as opulent as possible. There were a few security cameras in corners, which was not ideal; I was being recorded. Sometimes I'd catch a glance of a window, each with its own stunning view of the city that would have made Cece stare for hours. This must have been one of Mallory's apartments; she had a few in Veilstone, but one here, which she picked as our place of meeting. As Sinnoh's most famous and popular news anchor, she could afford it. I knew that this wouldn't have made most of my friends even turn their heads, though.

But I was led into… not a living room, but something akin to it.

WELCOME TO THE ROOM WHERE MANY CONVERSATIONS WHILE BROODING OVER THE CITYSCAPE CAN TAKE PLACE! Swoobat said, sweeping the place with his wing. AN ACTIVITY RICH HUMANS ARE VERY VERY VERY FOND OF!

The two who caught my eye— because there were two people here— were Mallory and an old man slightly hunched over. Mallory, as usual, had her short, dark brown pixiecut. She sat on a couch in a fancy glittering dark blue one-piece dress with her legs crossed as she sipped on some white wine. There was another couch free, facing the same massive window Mallory was, but the man was standing. He stood slightly taller than Denzel, draped in flowing robes of muted brown with a golden cloak draped around his shoulders and a tall, cumbersome-looking hat. A thick, white beard flowed down to his neck, hiding the lower part of his mouth, and he had a large, round nose with a twinge of red from irritation. Swoobat hopped toward him like an excited child, forgetting his quest to not knock anything over. He bumped into a counter and the couch before reaching his apparent trainer, who lowered himself with a tired grunt carrying the weight of aching bones to scratch the flying type's neck.

"Ah, Grace! The girl of the hour!" Mallory had turned my way, her smile mildly unsettling. "Come, come, sit!" She motioned me her way, and I hesitantly followed. "Thank you for taking me up on my offer. I know I didn't make it easy for you, but the topic we're about is important, don't you think? Do you want anything to drink? I have water or juice. Soft drinks, too."

"No thanks," I dryly responded, plopping myself down on the free couch. The city unfolded below me like a tapestry, and I could hear its sound faintly reaching the window; the occasional honking of a car or someone yelling. "Wait, where are my manners. Um," I quickly shot back up and faced the older man. "I'm—"

"Grace Pastel, yes," he interrupted, then slowly gestured toward Mallory. His voice was gentle, yet stern. Weathered, perhaps, yet it was clear that he spoke with purpose as well. He carried with him an accent reminiscent of Cece's before she'd absorbed Sinnoh's way of speaking. "I've heard many stories about you from our dear benefactor."

Mallory laughed, a sultry and admittedly pleasant sound. "You flatter me, Rood." Then, she turned my way. "Rood was originally here to thank me for one of my donations to their political party— my largest to date, but he jumped at the occasion to meet you once I said you would visit. He even extended his stay!"

Swoobat snorted unpleasantly and glared. The old man stroked his beard in contemplation, and I honed in on his displeasure instantly. He had been either caught off-guard by this, or did not want me to know about the circumstances of his visit, or both. Maybe he wanted me to feel more important than I already was. Flatter was one of the many keys to get what you wanted from someone.

"As I said, I'd heard about many of your feats," the so-called Rood said. "Ah, but I forget myself. My name is Rood Vaughan, and I am a Sage of the Plasma Organization. Think of it as one of their guides or leaders. It is a pleasure to meet you."

He outstretched his hand, and I shook it. The grip was weak, yet I felt a jolt of electricity up my arm. His skin was dry and wrinkly. Now that he faced me, I noticed the emblem on his chest, tying the golden cloak together around his shoulders. A black and white shield with a blue 'P' and 'Z' linked together.

It hit me all at once.

They wanted something from me, and the knives were out. They wanted to use me, perhaps each for a different goal, and I wanted to use them as well. This wasn't just a conversation, this was a fight for my survival in the mud. There was a tingle in my hands, the need to clench at something; a subtle sharpening of my senses; the hair on my neck and arms stood on end and I gulped.

Here, for a moment.

Here, at one of the highest points of Jubilife.

I found a story. I found purpose. I was alive again! This was a battle; there were three sides to it, and I was the only one blind to its ramifications. My back was against the wall. Mallory had the power to leak this and ruin my relationship with Poketch. If it had only been her, I could have escaped with only a flesh wound, but now with one of the leaders of Plasma in the room if this got out I would lay not only defeated, but dead. A corpse bleeding out on the floor, beaten by her betters. Those had to be the stakes. They had to be, because then I could actually feel this fire in my heart. The prickling sensation along my skin; the sweat building up on my palms; the rush of adrenaline; the realization that I was utterly outplayed and cornered. These were the drums of war, of blood and iron, and by the Legendaries, I had missed its rhythm.

Finally. My worries had been confirmed. I was a weapon. Conflict drove me. Conflict meant a story with me at its center. A story meant purpose. Purpose was to me now as oxygen was to my body. No, it was worse. So bad you could get drunk on it.

But I could not get ahead of myself. The Sharpedo were circling, and the ambush I'd been led into had left me bleeding. I had lost the first engagement before even knowing there was going to be a fight in the first place.

"You could have met Zinzolin too, but I'm afraid he had to make himself scarce yesterday when Sinnoh's airspace opened again. A shame that he left, really," Mallory continued with a threatening smile. "I truly apologize for not being able to warn you about Rood's presence. I am aware this puts you in a bind."

So they truly weren't on the same side, somehow. There was a conflict of interest, and I was the only one blind to it. Not wanting to be out of my depth, I nodded and decided to go on the attack. "I would have liked a warning. And you know what, can I take you up on that drink offer?"

Her stare sharpened. Did she think me a fool, to gloat and bare her ill will toward Rood right in front of me? Her smile softened, and she uncrossed her legs. "What do you want?"

I couldn't overplay my hand. "Just some tea, if you have some? I've become a big fan over the last few months— any tea is fine." I did like tea, but the water reaching a boiling point meant the kettle would make some noise. I'd be able to figure out when she was done. If she took too long to come back, I'd know she was trying to eavesdrop, and water took a bit to boil. Plus, I had a good view of the way toward the kitchen.

Accepting her first loss, Mallory got up and calmly walked toward her kitchen. The size of her apartment would play in my favor here, but I couldn't rest on my laurels just yet. Mallory, I knew a little about. I knew she wanted to abolish trainers; I knew she represented the biggest extremes of Plasma; I knew she was genuinely interested in me, and so while she would step on my toes, she wouldn't try to sabotage these talks to the point of getting me to leave. Blackmail and threats were just that, an idea of what could go wrong. If I fucked up, she would use it, but she wouldn't just throw me under the bus for no reason. She'd have to be certain there would be no avenues to cooperate with me.

Rood was a blank slate, one whose blade has still not been dirtied from the battle. The old man had stayed quiet after our introduction, content to listen and observe with his hands behind his back while his Swoobat rubbed on the side of his legs in-between joyous snorts. Mallory being gone was my opportunity to figure him out. No doubt the woman thought she'd just listen back to the footage on her own time, which was why she hadn't minded stepping away.

A mistake, in my opinion. It was as if I did the same for a Gym Battle, thinking I'd just watch the video of my loss afterward. Yeah, I'd learn, but I had still lost.

"So," I eagerly began. "What is it that you want from me, Rood?"

"Straight to the point," he said, clearly amused. "As you age, you'll learn to appreciate the scenic route to things."

"I mean, from what I understood, your fellow Sage Zinzolin left before you did, meaning that you're clearly interested." I'd been sitting on the couch with an arm over the armrest, meaning that the wrist Mimi was on was hidden. I quietly tapped them on the side of the couch to wake them up until they shivered in annoyance. "Obviously you've heard that I can talk to and understand Pokemon, as you've said, but what are you hoping to do with that knowledge?"

Rood slowly ambled toward the window, and he observed Jubilife at night. "A wonderful city, don't you think?"

This was clearly leading somewhere. "Yes."

"So small. It is a quaint little city." Finding Jubilife small of all things was something only a Unovan would say. "I have to say, from my time here, Sinnoh is quite the humble region. I have appreciated my stay, even in these dire circumstances. You have my sincere condolences for what these 'Galactic' terrorists have done."

I nodded, taken aback by the warmth in him. "Thanks. I—It's been a tough time for all of us."

He swept his hand toward the city below. "Mallory… Mallory would have us tear all of this down; that is her ultimate goal," he continued. "You would be hard-pressed to find someone in Plasma who would go that far; we simply fight for Pokemon liberation." Swoobat crooned at that word. Liberation. "Mallory has been a staunch ally in the fight for Pokemon, but I fear she loses the forest for the trees sometimes. I am sorry she forced your hand." There was a small smile behind his beard. "But I did not find it fit to stop it. The opportunity here was too interesting to pass and as she likely thinks, the fact that you have not left running as soon as you saw me or the cameras means that this is something you truly believe in. I find that admirable. To be willing to lose much for your goals."

Here were go. I braced myself for the first bout; the moment friendly small talk would turn into a game of pushing and pulling. He let around ten seconds pass, no doubt allowing the pressure to build. Occasionally, he would glance toward the hallway leading to the kitchen.

"Ah, but I need to make sure you are worth your salt, first," Rood said. "A little test for you. Swoobat, if you will."

The bat beamed, happy to help his trainer. With a wink, Swoobat told me that if I wanted to steal anything from Mallory on my way out, he would Teleport it with me. I said no, of course, and quickly relayed the message to Rood, who I assumed got confirmation from the psychic through telepathy.

His eyes widened. "Fascinating. All of my life, I've given to this cause and tried to find like-minded people, yet this is only the second time I've seen someone like you. Someone who can truly hear Pokemon, even if they are strangers."

My nails dug into the couch, but I caught the tic and just hummed nonchalantly, as if I was intrigued and not utterly bewitched by this revelation. He must have wanted to gauge my reaction too, from the beat of silence that he allowed to pass as his gaze washed over me like a thousand needles. I called to Mesprit using my mind, asking if they had anything to do with this— some kind of half shard business they hadn't told me like Chase and Cece.

Nope, the God immediately answered. I've got nothing to do with this, if he's telling the truth! Mesprit snickered, signaling they already knew. You should have used your empathy to tell, Grace! C'mon, get your head in the game! This is the most exciting thing that's happened to you since you've been back from the Distortion World!

Right. Right, he could have been lying. I didn't want to rely on empathy if I could; if possible I wanted to be able to tell what people thought and felt and wanted by just looking at them. Like Gardenia. But given that the stakes were so high, maybe…

Was that a lie? I asked Mesprit.

Well now it's less entertaining if I tell you. Figure it out on your own, if you want to be such a goody two shoes! Hmph!

The whistling of the tea kettle in the distance eventually centered me before I could make my decision.

"Really? That's interesting," I said. "Are they another member of your party—"

"Ah, welcome back, Mallory," he said, facing the nearby hallway.

We heard her steps before we saw her. "I got you camomille," she said, lifting a ceramic cup. She looked frayed, but not beaten. "I hope you like it, I'm not that big on tea. I have to drink at least four coffees a day to survive, though."

When I grabbed the cup and thanked her, a realization hit me like a bucket of cold water while she and Rood continued their small talk about coffee (the old man was convinced it was a vice).

Was this why he'd waited so long? Spoken so slowly? So he would get something out of me, but not me out of him? From how long an answer had taken to come out, he could have easily told that not only I did not know someone else like me, but that I hadn't expected it to be possible in the first place. Yeah, I'd gotten information too— that out there someone else like me existed— but again, it could have been a lie, and even if it wasn't, he had gotten the better deal. Internally, a curse rang in my head. I was rusty. It had been a while since the politicking of Poketch.

A second loss. I couldn't let it get to three. Three felt significant, somehow. As if he'd have too much leverage in the conversation and even Mallory would be able to twist my arm. Remember, this is a story. It would be too obvious to have me lose here; an opportunity would arrive soon. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was insane, but at this point I was too deep into it to care.

I eyed the news anchor, who was also still reeling from her loss. She was far easier to read. Prickly, tense, and using their stupid argument about coffee to feel like she was at least winning something. We all knew this small talk was only a break from the fighting. We'd all traded barbs; now was the time for the second bout.

Taking the lead was a risk, but I had to trust Mallory would catch onto what I was doing.

I blew on my tea a few times. "Smells good." A meaningless filler meant to garner attention, and it worked. Both of my opponents were looking at me, now. "So, Mallory. Tell me how you and Rood met. If that's okay, of course!"

It was an attempt at an olive branch. If she knew any better, she'd take it. It wouldn't be wise to weaken our standing and allow Rood to get out of here as the sole benefactor to this meeting. The potential reward had increased for me now. I needed to know if this second Pokemon whisperer was real, and if they were, I wanted to know more about them. Knowledge was an invaluable.

She lowered her glass of wine and smirked. "Ah, it's been a while, hasn't it, Rood?"

"Certainly."

Mallory explained that she'd always been against trainers even when she'd been a child, and that she'd involved herself in Pokemon Rights organizations as a teenager and young adult. She'd even met her husband through these and forged a wide net of connections with important people all over Sinnoh. This was all information I already knew from Melody, but I pretended to be fascinated by it.

Maybe that was a little too harsh. The story was interesting. She'd done a lot of volunteer work to rehome Pokemon which had been abused or caught against their wills and released in an environment they hadn't been adapted to live in by trainers too lazy to go back to where they'd caught them, too, so she had done a lot of good for the world. I was simply after something else. We were circling the drain, so to speak.

Unfortunately for her, or at least she thought so, her ideals eventually turned too extreme for many of the groups she'd been a part of, so she quickly looked abroad and found a tiny group of like-minded people in Unova.

"I had only just joined at the time," Rood explained. "We were small, only based in Castelia and without much funding. Mallory had already become one of the largest news anchors in Sinnoh and was our second big political donor, you see. Without her, we wouldn't have grown anywhere as large as quickly. For that, she will always have my eternal gratitude." He inclined his head at her.

"Second?" I asked. "Who was the first?"

I caught the twitch in his eye; the way his hand reflexively moved an inch toward his beard, but then stayed flat against his robes. Rood was difficult to read, but was not infallible. I was only growing sharper as the night went on. He had not expected me to ask that question, and normally I wouldn't have. Second just struck me as an odd thing to say. If they'd had a donor beforehand, why had they stayed small? He'd identified them as big, after all. That meant pulling similar numbers to Mallory.

"I'm afraid they desire anonymity," he said. "You have to understand, Grace, that taking our position publicly, while easier than ten, twenty, thirty years ago, is still liable to ruin your reputation."

"Oh, I understand."

One loss for him, then. Minor, but a loss nonetheless. Mallory just had a smug smile, and I didn't know if it was she liked seeing Rood get some egg on his face or if she knew about this donor as well. Our alliance, while tentative, was still holding somewhat, so I decided not to throw her under the bus and ask her about this mysterious donor. She was the one with the cameras, after all. Chitchat about how Plasma struggled in its early days continued for a few minutes until Mallory moved on the attack as soon as I signaled to her with a look.

"I'm sorry to bring this back up, but I do wonder what I missed while I was gone." She brought a finger to the side of her lip. "Grace looked quite shaken; I hope you weren't mistreating our guest, Rood."

Damn it, she was good to have caught on to what I wanted exactly. Crazy, but good, when she focused. She wasn't known to be merciless in her interviews for nothing. Years upon years of experience had been enough to sharpen her tongue enough for it to be lethal. It was a good thing that the beliefs she could barely hold back without a massive media conglomerate breathing down her neck were a weakness of hers. Honestly, the fact that they let her work for them with these views of her was insane to begin with, but maybe she'd grown too important, so they were stuck with her. It wasn't like she aired those in public, anyway.

"Most of it was just small talk, but Rood actually told me about someone else like me earlier," I said. "Someone who could also speak to Pokemon."

"Ah, yes. Them." That was confirmation they were real, especially with how Rood fucking stared daggers at Mallory, which seemed to reinvigorate her. She was a little like Mars, in that way. While a trap was possible, I sincerely doubted they were coordinating this lie. "A wonderful child your exact age that I've heard many good things about, though I have never been allowed to meet them, even with my many visits to Unova." Mallory tapped a finger on her armrest and lounged there like a lazy Glameow. "They're the reason why I was so intrigued by you when you walked up to Veilstone's Gate with that army of Pokemon behind you. You sounded and looked like what I'd heard about them."

Rood was fiddling uncomfortably with his beard. He'd overplayed his hand! Had he thought I'd never ally with Mallory just because she was fucking insane and he'd tried to tarnish her in my eyes while she was gone? And the best part was that he couldn't even say anything about it, lest he give something else away.

"I could never have imagined that you would, in time, become such a brilliant trainer," Mallory said with stars in her eyes. "We need people like you among us."

Well, all good things came to an end, I supposed. "Brilliant trainers? There are many like me; I don't even have my eighth badge." A soft rebuke first, to steer her away. We could still salvage this, even if she had slighted me.

"But how many can speak to Pokemon, and how many are… at least favorable to our cause?" she asked. "And that's not even speaking about your rate of progress. Who knows where you'll be in three months? Six? A year?"

Why did she have to go there? We had Rood on the ropes, and now we were trading blows! "Generally, you slow down the stronger your Pokemon are," I said, echoing Craig's words. "Why do you even need me for?" Back. Off.

"This world is run by strength above all, is it not? In nearly every single country, it is the most powerful trainer that rules, or at least appears to rule." Mallory's jaw clenched in displeasure. "Strength behind your cause is many things. It is respect; it is credibility; it is legitimacy. That is how the world works. The bigger a monopoly on violence you have, the better shot you have at being heard."

I bit the inside of my lip, knowing that she left me no choice. "The world you're describing where I am a weapon for you to use is a fantasy," I hissed. I wanted— needed purpose, but I was not far gone enough to let anyone use me. "I will not be a tool for you to scare people with or worse. I am certain Rood will agree with me."

Mallory's face fell. She'd expected a rebuttal, and maybe had wanted to drive me into a corner, but she hadn't expected me to run back to Rood for support after she'd given me so much information about this other individual like me. I'd essentially backstabbed her, and the look in her eye let me know that she would never help me again. Another loss for her; bad, since she had control of the cameras. I smelled her tea's aroma and circled a tiny spoon in the cup, as if unbothered.

Inclining his head toward me as a sign of gratitude, the Sage spoke. "We have many young and hotheaded people." The importance he'd put on those words, accompanied by a very obvious stare toward Mallory made his intent known. "Passion is good, but I fear the actions some of them could take if the ban passes this summer."

By that, he meant the banning of their political party in parliament. Cecilia had spoken to me about it a bit, and I had done some research on my own with Jellicent's help.

"It will pass, and it will be buried now that the news can only speak about Sinnoh. The establishment fears us." Mallory sneered and took another swig of wine. "We're surging in the polls! Nowhere near enough to be the largest party yet, but we've gone from a tiny irrelevant group to a sizeable voice with amazing ground game and organization. Why would they ban our party if they weren't scared of us? Terrified that we'd keep growing? We were about to break the fucking dam, forgive my language, and they want to put a— a bit of tape over it and bury their heads in the sand!" She wildly gestured.

Rood audibly groaned, so I followed up to keep her talking. Anything to use her rashness as a weapon against herself. Anchoring myself to Rood was the only way I'd make it through the night. "And what does that mean? Breaking the dam."

The news anchor's face burned alight with passion and she uttered a single word. Quiet, yet solid as steel. "Revolution."

I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. Arguing for revolution while she would be watching from an ocean away in her ivory tower, sipping wine and profiting off of it by reporting on it was insane, yet expected from someone like her.

"Enough of that," Rood growled, sounding a decade younger. "I will not allow blood to be spilled in our streets. For innocents and children to die as collateral damage. Violence is never the answer."

Mallory laughed and clapped her hands. "Oh you bleeding heart. Spare me."

"And who, pray tell, do you think will fight this theoretical revolution." He gestured at me. "Trainers will use their Pokemon as tools of violence! This goes exactly against our core beliefs! The very beings you want to save will die by the tens, hundreds of thousands! Maybe millions." His expression grew grim, and a darkened shadow clouded behind his eyes as if he was visualizing it. Swoobat patted his leg with a wing, and some of the tension left Rood, who took a deep breath. "You think we will put the heads of your enemies at the League on pikes, but war is never so self-contained. Innocents would die and be displaced, and in the wild as well."

"Coward," she hatefully spat. "So you would rather let them ban our cause," Mallory countered. "You would rather allow them to stay the course on hundreds of years of oppression than do what is necessary. Allow me to posit you this." She stood up and began to pace, though maintained a piercing glare toward Rood. "It is the Great War. The Kalosion monarchy bans any dissident voice against the war and imprisons anyone who speaks out. Do you know how it ended? With a revolution, the king dead and Kalos out of the war."

"Apples and oranges," he dismissed her with an irritated rasp in his voice. There was a beat of silence passed, heavy even for me. I did not know who'd won the engagement, but I'd give it to Rood. "And what do you think, Grace?"

"I agree that there is a problem," I said. "I just vehemently disagree with what you think is the cure. And that goes for you as well," I told Rood. It was easier to understand their difference, now. Their agendas. Both believed Pokemon Trainers to be endemic to the issue that Pokemon in society were not treated as equals. They disagreed, however, on how to fix that issue. "It's like, you're both acting like Pokemon themselves don't get a say in this."

"A common rebuke," Rood said. "I can assure you, we both know that different Pokemon will have different needs and wants."

"Despite all of this, they are victims who have been brought up in the same society that we have. Many of them think that this is all normal despite—"

Rood softly clicked his tongue, as if to tell her she would find no companion in that line of thinking. Not here, at least. "One cannot deny that ripping away Pokemon from their trainers would be a traumatic experience. Not only would it be impossible without a war we could not win even with all of Unova's resources behind us, but it would be morally wrong." Mallory whispered that they just lacked the will for it. He ignored her. "This is why I argue for a more sensible position. The banning of catching new Pokemon, effective immediately."

Damn it.

He was better than her. He really was. And I was sure I would enjoy speaking to him about many things.

But at the end of the day he was cut of the same cloth. Plasma was no good for me.

"It would allow us decades of leeway to learn how to work with wild Pokemon as equals, along with slowly adapting the state to function without their labor, yet it would not upend society in an apocalyptic manner. It would allow the trainer class to naturally die out over the decades," he continued. "Though I can tell this disappoints you, Grace. A shame."

"Yeah," I just said. When I imagined future generations unable to experience the sheer love I had with my own Pokemon, it filled my chest with so much anger. "Yeah, I think you're both full of shit. And it pains me, because— because you're so close to being— to being workable with, Rood. You seem like such a kind and passionate man at heart."

The man exhaled. "I could say the same. By His Truth, this was such a wasted opportunity. I wish I could understand how you could hear the voice of Pokemon and not think the same as us. Not think the same as them."

Them. That mysterious figure again. Biting my lip, I put my face in my hands and sighed.

"I gotta go to the bathroom. Where is it?" I quickly asked.

"Ah, Swoobat knows," Mallory said. "He can bring you."

"Nonsense. You should trust your guests, Mallory." Rood looked to still be willing to cooperate even though we'd come at an impasse.

That was exactly what I'd hoped for.

I wanted more from this, but first I had to do this test. After Mallory directed me to the nearest bathroom, I left Mimi on the couch in their bracelet form and made my way there. The truth was, I didn't need to go at all. I just needed to see if Rood would stab me in the back and attempt to discredit me, which was why I'd woken up Mimi from their slumber earlier. I allowed two minutes to pass before I flushed a clean toilet and washed my clean hands, then I came back to Rood and Mallory debating poll numbers. The little steel type had no warning for me, so I knew we were in the clear.

Supposedly with the election this October, the Plasma Organization was polling at 14%. That was behind every single mainstream party who I assumed were in the pockets of the corporations, but they were the largest out of the four parties that Cece would call the 'non-establishment'.

Granted, Unova wasn't like Sinnoh. Even 'establishment' parties were a part of the opposition sometimes, and there were a crap ton of parties. I knew of few of their names because Cece would often rant at me about them being beholden to the Conglomerate at the end of the day, even if they all had differing opinions. 14% was actually a huge rise from the paltry 2.3% they'd gotten the previous election, which hadn't even been enough to get any seats in parliament. According to Rood and Mallory, their rise in the polls came in the wake of a series of very public scandals in the Unovan Ranger Corp which were 'worse than usual'. In the Mistralton branch, it was because of the mistreatment of Pokemon in their custody. In the Nacrene Branch, it was due to an aggressive rehoming of Pokemon off the route into a supposed 'Pinwheel Forest' that left many hurt and some dead. A video a nearby trainer (who hadn't been supposed to be here; Rangers had the authority to fully close down areas of a Route in Unova on their own) had filmed had catapulted the story to front-page news.

Well, until a massive rift opened up on top of Coronet, at least.

While I knew there was no way that many people believed in separating trainer and Pokemon, they'd still jumped that high in the polls for whatever reason. I had heard that they were moderating a little publicly, at least, so maybe that was it, but the ban on them would take that out of the picture.

"People always say that it's a few bad apples…" Mallory trailed off with genuine sadness. "Every few weeks, there's an incident that's supposed to be just an exception. They investigate themselves and sometimes fire the culprit or put them in prison, but the entire thing is rotten."

"That, we can agree on," Rood said. "Mark Obel, of all people, will not change anything. He is even worse than cruel, he is a coward who revels in inaction. I never thought I would miss Alder. For all I disagreed with the man, he was better than this."

Silence was my answer. I would not form an opinion on the Rangers until I saw the region for myself; while these incidents had happened, I could not forget that these people were biased. What they were describing was difficult especially when knowing how good Sinnoh's Rangers were in comparison.

I swallowed. We'd traded blows tonight, and I found him to be a very engaging conversationalist. We were opponents, yet like in every battle, it did not mean I could not learn from this. I warmed my hands against the teacup and leaned forward.

"Why don't you tell me about some of the other things you've seen, Rood?" I slowly asked. Unlike Mallory, he could be objective. "I'm afraid that while I desperately want to help Pokemon, I am severely lacking in the knowledge to do anything about it."

Rood stroked his beard, something that I was quickly learning was a soothing gesture for him. "While you may not be a new party member, it would always be good to have someone of your caliber working to help Pokemon. I can see that you are different."

"Because I talk to Pokemon?" I asked.

"No. I see that look in your eyes, young girl. It reminds me of my father's; he fought in the Last War." Few people used that name for the Great War, for obvious reasons. It implied that it would be the last war ever fought, at least officially. "You have seen much horror and hope for good in the world. Perhaps it is what I want to see, but it is what I see nonetheless."

Rood was an optimistic man at his core. I was learning much about him tonight.

"I" I hoped that I was like that as well. Desperately. "Yeah."

"It has been… more than two hours of discussion. I'm afraid that like Zinzolin before me, I will have to leave. I have a flight to catch early tomorrow." Rood chuckled. "I assume that some will be greatly pleased with this."

Mallory was already salivating at the prospect of getting me alone to try to turn me over to her side. "Don't worry, Grace. I have two more Teleporters on payroll that you can use to get back." She'd downed her wine by now, but she enjoyed twirling the empty glass around in her hand.

I had not touched the tea I'd had her make.

Despite wanting to leave as soon as possible now that Rood was gone, Mallory still had the footage, and she knew it. She would be able to twist me into some kind of concession before I could leave in exchange for safety. The good thing was that I hadn't lost too much of my standing in the previous conversation. We'd fought, and I'd come out on top enough times for her to respect me. If I'd mishandled the meeting, she might have forced me into

"Oh, and Mallory," Rood said with a hidden smile. He motioned at one of the cameras in the corner of the room. "Do me a favor and delete all of tonight's footage."

The news anchor nearly fell off her velvet couch. "And why… is that?" she asked, barely containing the surprised rage within.

"You know that I am a private man," he said. "I am not the face of Plasma; I cannot be as outspoken as Zinzolin or Gorm. I fear that I have not behaved as a man worthy of my position as a Sage tonight, with all the arguments and the non-curated narrativesah, but you know how politics go." Swoobat giggled and jumped on his trainer's back. Somehow, as clumsy as he was, he did so gently as to not hurt Rood's back. "Ah, patience, Swoobat. You must take Grace home, first."

"And what if I refu…" Mallory didn't finish that sentence, as if the thought of going against Rood was unimaginable.

I thought I understood it. They could spar verbally all they wanted, debate theory and theoreticals, but at the end of the day, he was one of the leaders of Plasma and she was just a donor. A donor with influence within the party, of course, but a donor nonetheless. If Rood wanted, he could probably cut her off. It wasn't like they were financially dependent on her any longer, and she needed them. They were more important than donations to her, they were her life's purpose.

The old man simply nodded. "Grace, a little conversation, if you will. Swoobat?"

In-between Mallory's outrage, the psychic's nose glowed pink, and he yelled—

Then everything around us went quiet before my hands could even get to my good ear to take out my hearing aid. It had been painful for a fraction of a second. I knew I was within some kind of sound barrier, but it was different than one Cass would make, for example. Less refined, with less of a defined border between the outside and inside.

"This is a favor I am doing you," he said. "Truth be told, while what I said tonight getting out would not be ideal, it would not hamper our goals much. I would never be so careless."

"Then whwhy? Why do this for me?"

He placed a firm hand on my shoulder. "While I am disappointed this meeting is ending this way, I still wanted to analyze your character tonight. To see if you were as bloodthirsty as your so-called 'battling' showed." He scoffed, squeezing my shoulder a tad, and it was now that I'd realized how close to oblivion I'd stepped. He had watched my battles. Of course he had! Why would he not try to learn everything about me? "While I am appalled at what you make your Pokemon and the Pokemon of others go through, I understand that it is… sport for you all, however misguided that may be. One day, hopefully, you too will see the truth."

I responded with a terse nod, not agreeing but being grateful he was giving me this opportunity.

He took his hand off of me and brought them both behind his back. "All I ask is for you to not speak of the other like you to anyone."

I expected more, like an explanation as to why he did not want this person known, but it never came. "Of course. I owe you."

"Thank you, Grace. Tonight, you showed genuine concern for our plea," he continued. "You showed that you do not follow the path of violence in hopes of fixing things. You showed that you have a good head on your shoulders," I could have laughed at that one, "and that you are a smart and good speaker. So I will let Swoobat take you home. Do not worry, Mallory will not do anything rash. She is young and has the temperament of a Hydreigon, but like all of us, there is good in her heart. She is bitter at a world that has refused her at every turn, and it has only radicalized her more. I will handle her with a gentle hand."

"Ththank you, Rood."

The Sage smiled, closing his eyes. "Why don't you head on home, then. Teenagers like you need good sleep, and you look like you haven't gotten any in a week."

My ears popped when Swoobat took down whatever he'd done to contain our voices. Mallory looked to be stewing in anger. I wouldn't hear what they were going to talk about, given that Swoobat was already hopping away. It wasn't until we reached the condo's foyer, where he had Teleported me beforehand, that he spoke up again.

SO, Swoobat wondered. WHAT DID YOU THINK?

I shook my head in disappointment. "I learned a lot, you know. A lot of statistics and horrible, horrible stories that had happy endings because of Rood. His heart is in a good place," a way better place than Mallory's, who just wanted blood and death, "but I still believe he's misguided."

HE THOUGHT YOU MIGHT HAVE COME TO AN AGREEMENT, Swoobat said. HE THOUGHT YOU MIGHT HAVE BEEN LIKE THAT PERSON HE MENTIONED TO YOU. YOUR COUNTERPART. I THOUGHT SO TOO, BUT OH WELL. POBODY'S NERFECT!

I leaned against the wall, staring at one of Mallory's paintings. "Can you tell me more about them?" Then, I raised my hands innocently. "I promise I won't say anything to anyone."

The flying type snorted. YOU'RE GOING TO UNOVA, RIGHT? IF YOU ARE, YOU'RE GOING TO KNOW WHO HE IS VERY SOON— OH CRAP, I REVEALED HIS GENDER! Swoobat jumped around, flapping his wings in a panic. BAH! WHATEVER! YOU'D HAVE FIGURED IT OUT EVENTUALLY. ROOD MADE A CALCULATION WHEN TELLING WHO ABOUT HIS EXISTENCE AND HIS PURPOSE. A GAMBLE THAT IT WOULD GET YOU TO OUR SIDE. YOU BETTER REMEMBER YOUR PROMISE, EVEN IF IT DIDN'T.

"I won't. It's mutually assured… well, it'd be destruction for me, and I assume you guys don't want the world to know he exists yet, or that he's involved with you, so it'd be bad for you too," I guessed. As Rood said, that might ruin his reputation as well, though he still had plausible deniability given that he'd never confirmed this boy to be a part of Plasma, just that he knew him.

WELL HE'LL MAKE A BIG SPLASH, I BETCHA! A BIG SPLASH! Swoobat cackled. Their nose started to glow as they gathered the energy to Teleport. BACK TO SUNYSHORE, I PRESUME?

Before agreeing, I spoke up. "Say, Swoobat. You agree with Rood's ideals wholeheartedly?"

He nodded. YUP!

"Even if it means he'll have to release you if he reaches his goal?"

The bat's concentration wavered for a moment; his wings shivered and he began to cackle wildly until his laugh turned into a snotty-sounding wheeze. SILLY HUMAN! DO YOU THINK I STAY WITH ROOD BECAUSE OF THAT PRISON YOUR KIND CARRIES ON YOUR HIP? He continued speaking in-between coughs, looking at Buddy and Mimi's Pokeballs. I AM WILD, STILL! ROOD'S PLAN DOES NOT MEAN A TOTAL SEPARATION BETWEEN HUMAN AND POKEMON; I WOULD NOT HAVE TO LEAVE HIS SIDE! ONLY WACKOS LIKE ZINZOLIN AND MALLORY BELIEVE IN TOTAL SEGREGATION! WE HOPE TO UNDERMINE THEIR CAUSE EVENTUALLY, BUT WE'RE FORCED TO WORK TOGETHER FOR NOW. UNITED WE STAND, DIVIDED WE FALL AND ALL OF THAT JAZZ. ROOD THINKS TOO WELL OF THEM, HONESTLY. HE SEES GOOD WHERE THERE IS NONE, OR AT LEAST IT WOULD TAKE TOO MUCH WORK TO SQUEEZE IT OUT OF THEM.

Oh. Oh, that made a lot more sense. I disagreed, still, but that was so much more palatable. Still, it was clear from Rood's argument that this would result in so much fewer opportunities for bonds between human and Pokemon to form, and that was in line with his plan. Not because the Pokeball was necessary to that bond (history had shown that wasn't the case; people had been partnering up with Pokemon long before the invention of the first Pokeballs made using apricorns and whatever the hell else). Ignoring the fact that Pokeballs had saved my Pokemon's lives many times, it was his phrasing, which had bothered me. 'Allow the trainer class to naturally die out'. He wanted to phase us out, and from the conversations I'd had with him earlier, he was vehemently anti-battling to the point of believing it to be abusive. Not only my methods of battle, but any battling.

I exhaled in disappointment, remembering that moment. So much for listening to Pokemon; good luck taking battling away from Sweetheart, Princess, Honey or Sunshine.

"To Sunyshore," I said, satisfied.

ALRIGHTY! HERE WE— Their eyes glowed white, and they seized up. Emotional misery encroaches upon you GO!

"Wh—" we were back in Sunyshore, in front of that same Pokemon Center. "—at?" People spared us a glance, as they usually did when people Teleported nearby, but that was it. The cover of night and the hoodie I was wearing helped keep me hidden. "What did you just say?"

WHAT? Swoobat clumsily blew up, knocking himself into a pole. WHADDYAMEAN?

"Was that a joke? Or do you genuinely not remember? You said misery encroaches upon me—"

OH! OH! THOSE. YEAH, I DO THAT SOMETIMES, he yelled. I WOULDN'T WORRY, THAT'S JUST A TIC. I HAVE A GOOD NOSE; I CAN SMELL ONGOING, PAST, OR FUTURE EMOTIONAL TURMOIL SOMETIMES, BUT IT'S NEVER THAT CLEAR, AND I ALWAYS FORGET! LIKE A FLEETING DREAM! IT'S PROBABLY WRONG! ANYWAY, GOTTA DIP! SEE YA!

I blinked, not knowing what to say, and the bat disappeared into the night.

"Way to make me anxious," I muttered to myself. Mimi vibrated against my wrist. "Yeah, hopefully it's nothing. Better be ready for anything, though." I honestly couldn't think of anything that would cause me turmoil in the future now that Galactic was gone, so it was probably what I was feeling now. Melancholy. "Hey, thanks for helping me out in there. You didn't have to." My hand gently caressed the bracelet, who quietly mewled.

I pulled out my phone, texted my contact at the League and sat on a bench on the opposite sidewalk of the Pokemon Center while I waited. Tonight had been full of twists and turns, and honestly, at the beginning of it all, I'd felt like I'd been fighting for my life. I had carved out a space for myself among those two and gotten out with a deal that was as close to optimal as it could have been thanks to Rood.

And honestly? I was sad that it was over.

Something was wrong with me. I didn't exactly care to fix or even acknowledge it, at the moment. I closed my eyes and reimagined the words full of harm, poison and barbed wire, and what I'd done to counter them.

A/N: I usually wouldn't feel the need to do this because I don't like spelling out things for the readers, but here, just in case: reminder that Grace is an unreliable narrator who puts way too much importance on stories because they make her feel alive and help her think during high stakes situation. She is just a teensy weensy bit insane (very insane).

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap
 
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Interlude - A Taste of Rule and Forgiveness
INTERLUDE - A TASTE OF RULE AND FORGIVENESS

As it turned out, pushing Chase around on a wheelchair was a very demanding job for Cecilia. For one, he always complained about how sitting permanently meant that he'd be short as hell for the rest of his life and that he'd have to look up at people, a personal pet peeve of his. Having people in front of him cut off his field of vision whenever it got too crowded. He hated the way so many passersby looked down at him with pity in their eyes, probably thinking 'oh, that poor thing! Disabled and so young!' They never said anything, of course. He would have talked their ear off with countless insults if they had, but just that look was enough to piss him off. The fact that Chase still wore some bandages over his shallow burns didn't help. Apparently none of it would scar, save for a spot on his shoulder blade.

He would also complain if she was going too slow. Cecilia thought that it was due to some insecurity about being handled 'softly' due to his new condition, but the honest truth was this was her first time pushing a wheelchair and she didn't want to bump into some poor League Trainer or even worse, a child.

Both of them were technically breaking a rule, at the moment. While Chase had been allowed to go out on his wheelchair, he hadn't been discharged, nor had his doctors allowed him to go this far from the hospital. He kept insisting he was fine and he could do this, however; she had gone through too much with him to doubt Chase now.

She brought him south of the island, stopping at a vantage point once built to observe the League's densest residential zone right around its relatively small port. Cecilia assumed that once upon a time, this place could have been used to observe any enemy force landing on the League's shores. Today, it had been turned into a touristic spot with paid binoculars and a colorful sign explaining the significance of this place to passersby. Cecilia didn't read it, however. She enjoyed guessing how places and their purpose changed throughout the years. The Unovan placed Chase's wheelchair right next to the old-looking stone railing so he could have the best view possible. Even with how cloudy it was, this place was breathtaking.

He wasn't as much of a view nerd as she was, but one would have to be blind not to be taken aback by the beauty of the world unfolding before you. Everything looked so small from up here. The League was growing busier every day, yet they all looked like little ants going about their purpose. She should have brought Grace here. They could have taken a picture— maybe of them kissing above the world.

Cecilia shivered, hugging herself, craving for her like she was some sort of drug. Her leg began to impatiently tap against the ground, as if helping Chase with his issues was a waste of time when she could spend more of it with Grace. The thought disgusted her as soon as it came, and she chased it away with a head shake.

"What, you're cold in this warm ass weather? Is this a ghost thing again?" Chase asked with his usual lack of tact. "I guess there's a bunch of wind."

Cecilia pondered that question for a moment as she observed the bustling port below the stone railing. "I think some of it is," she said. "Some of it is just me, though. Just me."

"Cryptic," he said with a hint of irony. He pushed himself up with his hands to get a better look. "Yeah, I think this is a good spot to leave me in."

Her hand lay to rest on the side of his chair. "Are you sure you'll be able to get back alone?"

Chase shrugged. "Nothing like getting thrown in the sea to learn how to swim."

Cecilia scoffed, and looked at him like he was insane. "That's also a very good way to have you drown." He had been the one with the insane plan for her to bring him in the middle of nowhere so he could practice moving around on his lonesome.

"That's how they do it in the Iron Islands," he explained. "Plus, when you're a baby you automatically know how to hold your breath."

"What? No way."

"Dude, I'm telling you that's how it works! I've seen it with my own eyes." Chase placed his hands around his wheels with a firm grip and mumbled about needing to get back to working out soon. "Anyway, thanks for bringing me out here. I'll…" a sigh, "wheel my way back to the hospital soon enough. I just needed fresh air."

A Pelipper flew overhead, followed by a group of Wingull. One of them passed so close to her she could have snatched it out of the air. Pokemon here were as they were in any other city— they were used to people and content to live their lives in their company. Chase and Cecilia stuck around for a few minutes until her phone rang in her pocket. She was wearing shorts today; shorts that weren't black. Grace had helped her get dressed so she didn't have a horrid mix of colors. What greeted her was a small group chat with Maylene and Grace, one that she had the immediate urge to unravel.

Maylene Suzuki - Hello

Maylene Suzuki - I hope this isnt like

Maylene Suzuki - Forcing anything or whatever.

Maylene Suzuki - Theres a problem with my dad cus he leaked that u were both here ayt the Gym. Hes trying to push the narrative that Grace hurt me so she shouldnt be here and that foreigners shouldnt be involvedin Gym business.

Maylene Suzuki - Its not catching on rn so I wouldnt worry, I just figured Id warn you

Forget everything about any notions of unraveling,
Cecilia thought to herself. This was important.

You - Pathetic. He desperately flails and tries to discredit your leadership because he can't do anything else but salvage his wounded pride.

Maylene Suzuki - Can u 2 come over?

Cecilia waited to see what Grace would say, which resulted in a rather long silence.

Maylene Suzuki - Its not urgent so dw if you cant

Now she was just feeling bad for her. Cecilia pursed her lips.

You - I said I would come over. I'll come over.

Grace - Sorry! I was busy making food for my kids. I'm picking up Honey, Cass and Sweetheart from the Center today so I don't think I can unless your dad is literally there and you need some huge emotional support from yours truly.

Maylene started to type, then stopped and started again. She could not have made her disappointment more obvious.

Maylene Suzuki - Dont worry haha ill be fine.

Maylene Suzuki - I nmean its fine.

You - I am still coming over.

Grace - Good luck Cece! Beat him to death!

Grace - In the marketplace of ideas*

Maylene Suzuki - Ok Cecilia ill send a Kadabra to ur hotel

Grace - Oooh if you're swinging by can you come up? I wanna see you really badly. I'm barely holding on as it is.

Teleportation was convenient, even when it took the fun out of travel. The Unovan looked up from her phone. "Well, I'll be on my way, then."

"Thanks for hanging with me pal," Chase said with a lazy thumbs up. His hospital gown looked terrible on him, she had to admit.

"I'll be busy today, actually, so if you need help, you gotta call one of the others—"

"I'll be fiiiine," he insisted before patting his breast pocket. "My phone's right here, and if something actually happens, some guy or girl's going to feel bad for me and help anyway. You do you and… you know, good luck with your Pokemon." He glanced at the two Pokeballs clipped on her hip and grimaced. "It's gonna take a while, but you're gonna work together again, I believe in you."

A soft smile reached her lips. "Thanks."

She used the tramways to get back to her hotel as fast as she could. Luckily for her, they were running routinely and she didn't have to wait very long. Cecilia's Teleporter was the same Kadabra Maylene had sent before. He still carried that horrid, ragged spoon and still sneered at her whenever she got near. Grace was out of the hotel waiting for her, but she'd been chatting up Kadabra with bright interest in his craft as if it was second nature to her. There was impatience in her face too, though, one that disappeared as soon as she noticed Cecilia.

Warm.

Unbelievably warm as if she'd jumped into a jacuzzi. It started from the throb in her heart and spread throughout her body like an unstoppable force. A tsunami of warmth that heated up further when Cece saw how genuinely glad she was to see her. Grace skipped forward, ignoring the outraged Kadabra, and tackled Cecilia into a tight hug. This was what she'd craved. Her skin against hers. Cecilia squeezed back so tightly that it was as if she wanted the two to meld into one person. Grace was still wearing an apron dirtied by a little flour— had she been making some kind of cake?

Cecilia mind whispered at her to stay for an hour, or two, or more. Maylene could wait, it would tell her. Can you last an afternoon without her? With a goal in mind, she could. The longer it lasted, the more she began to doubt herself. Cecilia's hold loosened, and Grace's tightened in response as if she didn't want to let go.

"I missed you," Grace whispered.

This wasn't good. This really wasn't good.

"I should go," Cecilia said.

"Maybe."

"Not maybe. I have to." Cecilia finally managed to find the strength to leave.

Grace looked at her with an irresistible pout— Legendaries, Cecilia missed seeing her green eyes. She'd been in better spirits since her conversation with that Plasma member and Mallory, though it was fading rather quick. She was still riding that high. "Okay. Guess I'll get back to it, then. Tell Maylene not to feel bad for the leak! She'll beat herself up over it if you don't."

"Will do. You have a good time with your team," Cecilia said.

"And good luck with yours. Especially Zolst," Grace whispered.

You interrupted a wonderful conversation, revenant. I hope you're happy, Kadabra grouched. She didn't bother responding. The psychic inhaled as his eyes lit up and his spoon bent, and in an instant, they were in Veilstone.

The transition between the dull overcast that had covered the League to the radiance of the white sun was so abrupt it was nearly dizzying. At midday, the sun had reached its zenith, a blinding orb amidst the varying shades of gray that formed the skies. Here it was, a ball of burning hot plasma hovering in space, yet having lost all of its golden splendor. The Kadabra was already gone before Cecilia could even thank him. The psychic hated what she'd done to herself and couldn't believe she was still alive.

By all accounts, she should be dead.

Her face soured when she remembered the fight with Jupiter, and Talonflame and Hydreigon's Pokeballs seemed just a little heavier. With a tired exhale, Cecilia made her way inside the Gym. Maylene seemed to have put a receptionist back in the lobby even though it hadn't opened. The girl, who looked to be in her early twenties, did not notice her until she leaned against the Gym's desk and cleared her throat.

She yelped and scrambled to push herself back against her chair until it reached the wall behind her. The small taste of satisfaction Cecilia got was short-lived and immediately replaced by a dull annoyance. She was growing tired of everyone being scared the first time they noticed her.

"Maylene summoned me to meet her here thirty-six minutes ago. I thought she would be here," the Unovan said, trying to be as loud as possible, which wasn't very much. Truth be told, she had expected the Gym Leader to greet her in the lobby like the other day. When the receptionist didn't answer, Cecilia tried changing her expression to a pleasant one. It seemed to work somewhat. "Sorry to bother you, I'm just wondering where I should go to meet her. Were you not warned of my arrival?"

The girl answered with a meek nod. "Uh— y—yes, you— she said she would come down for you." Cecilia frowned. What was her deal, to invite her and then not bother to come when she showed up? "Icancallherifyouwant!" the receptionist blurted out.

"I know where her office is," Cecilia said. Trickery wasn't like Maylene, so something must have happened. "Thank you for the help…" she waited for a name or an introduction of some sort, leaning further into the desk.

None came.

Cecilia gave up and decided she was better off cutting her losses. She would need to practice at things like small talk if she wanted to do well in Unova. It wasn't as if she'd forgotten how. Being sociable was one of the things her tutors had forced into her from the time she'd been a toddler. It was just harder to care now, and everyone looked at her like they'd seen a ghost. At least Professor Juniper sounded like she was over the moon at the opportunity to have her work with her now. She liked new things, and someone resurrected from the dead through a ghostly song was certainly novel. Cecilia hoped her fellow sponsees wouldn't mind her too much.

Lost in thought, she made it to Maylene's office. Her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, which she nearly twisted until she remembered to knock.

"Who is it?!" The voice came back mildly annoyed.

Cecilia silently scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Cecilia."

She was met with silence for nearly five seconds. She heard a little scrape through the door, then a swear and the sound of someone desperately cleaning up a room. Had she lost track of time? That would certainly make more sense than tricking her in some sort of nonsensical love rivalry. All was well. Cecilia decided to pass the time looking at things around the hallway, trying to guess what color things were. Brown for the door, of course. Maybe gray for the ground? They were tiles in most areas. A darker brown for the roof—

"Coming! Just a sec!" Maylene yelled, the voice inching closer with every word. The door swung open and bumped into Cecilia's foot. "Oh my God— Oh, I'm so sorry, crap, crap, crap!" Maylene's eyes frantically alternated between Cecilia's feet and face. "Do you need some ice? I wasn't thinking, I'm sorry."

It did hurt, but pain wasn't that bothersome any more. "One 'I'm sorry' is fine." She peered into the office where stacks of paper had hastily been shoved in drawers they were nearly spilling out of. "I assume you lost track of time."

"Yes, I— I have a lot of work," she said. She was wearing her Gym Uniform, as usual; a blue tank top and white pants. "Luckily they let you up here anyway."

"They weren't supposed to let me up?"

"Well, you're technically not a part of the Gym, so no." Maylene sheepishly scratched the back of her head. "Normally she would have called me and I would have come down, but it's fine!" she hastily said. "Come in, come in. Don't mind the mess. Usually my team keeps me centered at times like these but other than Lucario they're all in Snowpoint helping, so."

"I don't mind. You get used to it living with Grace." The Unovan stepped inside the office, which was actually quite smaller than she expected. There was only enough space for one desk and she felt like she would have gone insane working here for too long. This was smaller than even Pokemon Center rooms, though at least the view over Veilstone was good even if its buildings had none of the elegance of Castelia or Jubilife. The ceiling felt a little low for her, leaving Cecilia somewhat cramped. Her gaze lingered on the window for a second, and Maylene asked about how messy Grace was, exactly.

"She's the type of person who lets things pile up in her room until she can't take it anymore and goes on a huge cleaning binge," Cecilia answered.

"Woah. That's kind of like me!" Maylene beamed. Ugh, now that was something they might bond over; annoying. "Then Lucario pushes me into cleaning things up. Or Machamp. Or Infernape— you know what, all of them except Medicham. She's a slob."

"Do you like working here?" she asked out of the blue. "Not as a Gym Leader, but in this office, I mean."

"Yeah?" Maylene looked out the corridor before she closed the door. "I like empty and enclosed spaces. They make me feel comfy. I picked this office; dad used to work down the hall."

Well, if she said so.

"So. The leak," Cece said.

"Yeah… it's not ideal. Like I said, my Dad's been furious and is trying to undermine me by saying that I let 'strangers' into the Gym during such unprecedented times. It's… not really catching on. Or less than I thought 'cause most of it has to do with some people online being weirded out that I'm friends with Grace." Maylene's face scrunched up. "It probably would have been way different if Veilstone had been bombed though. Oh, and I guess people are wondering what the hell happened to your face." Maylene opened some drawer inside a wall that had been nearly invisible to the naked eye and grabbed a mat that she unfolded and placed on the ground. "A place to sit. I don't have another chair. I could get one if you want."

"Whatever."

Maylene shrank. "What?"

Cecilia stood there, stoic, then remembered that whatever could be taken as rude. "I meant it doesn't matter to me." She slumped down against the comfortable blue mat with a heavy sigh, and Maylene did the same, facing her cross legged. "The leak also doesn't matter to me, really. It was only a matter of time, and while it is annoying to have people wondering about what happened to me, I won't have to suffer the endless questions until I leave the League." She shrugged. "It'll be a while until then. Maybe it'll be out of the public consciousness."

"I still feel sorry… it's my fault. What does— what does Grace think? Did she say anything when you two spoke?" Maylene shuffled against the mat and averted her eyes.

Cece felt her eye twitch in irritation, but she contained the feeling as best she could. "She's worried about other things. She had a conversation with someone that she can't really let go of, at the moment, so she's in rather high spirits. I wouldn't worry for now." Maylene leaned forward, knees up and arms hugging her thighs. "No," Cece said.

"No, what?"

"No, I won't tell you what it was about." Should Grace want to, she could, even if it would make Cece jealous. Just imagining it was pissing her off.

The girl deflated, sagging against her propped up legs. "Hey, I feel like I should apologize for— being so close to her and stuff. I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot." Her feet anxiously tapped against the mat in a nonsensical rhythm. "I know you're her girlfriend, but I was close to her despite that. Like, physically. That hug the day my dad came over? I saw how it angered you but I kept going anyway, so I'm sorry."

Had it been anyone else— Pauline, Emilia, Mira, or any other girl— honestly it wouldn't have bothered her. The issue was that Maylene was interested in Grace romantically, so her apology wasn't very effective, even if Cece knew she meant it.

"She's a great person, even if she's a little broken. That makes me want to help fix her." Maylene smiled, and her legs flattened against the mat. Blushing, she twirled her fingers together. "She tries her best to be better, and that's admirable. I wanted to tell you that I just wanted to be friends with her. Good friends, but nothing more. I don't— I don't even swing that way, so I won't come in-between you two."

Cecilia squinted. Oh, you sweet summer child.

Surprisingly, she wanted to grab Maylene by the shoulders to shake and drag her into reality; luckily she stopped herself before she could make that mistake. The last thing she wanted to do was rock the boat— what if she was abandoned for her?

"And— and even if I did a little, theoretically, just because two people are gay doesn't mean they can't be friends," Maylene said. So at least she wasn't that clueless, just pretending for the safety of her own heart. "Again, that's just a hypothetical. If you tell me to, I'll back off, and, uh, I'll be fine."

She was so brazen, and yet so clueless about it! "That hug came after you'd faced your dad," Cecilia said, making sure each one of her words was curated not to hurt. "It did irritate me, but it was fine. You needed a shoulder to lean on. If he shows up again, I would just suck it up." What was she doing? She could have told her to screw off and never have to deal with her again. Her instincts screamed at her to retract her words. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't make it an everyday occurrence."

Damn it. She bit down on her tongue to stop herself from snapping. Cecilia was certain she would come to regret her inaction, but she had no choice. This girl had no one else to rely on; all of her coworkers were too busy to show up consistently. Without Grace as a pillar of support, she would collapse and her Gym would go with her, which would open up an opportunity for Oscar. She could absolutely not let him win.

Legendaries, what a mess. They were so tangled up, the three of them. Less so Maylene and Cecilia, but the fact that they were talking today meant that they were, even if it was through Grace. Coronet and the Distortion World had scarred them all. Cecilia had been mulling over how she could possibly fix her own issues, but the only solutions she came up with would tear her apart and open up an opportunity for Maylene to slide herself into her spot—

The Gym Leader let go of a breath and relaxed. "Got it. Thanks." There was a little nervous laugh. "Whew, Arceus I was so nervous about this talk. I thought you'd— well, nevermind. Thanks for being so nice to me," she said. "Uh, if I asked you to stick around today, would you?"

Cecilia raised an eyebrow. "I expected you to ask. You wouldn't have told me to come by just for a leak that could have been discussed on the phone."

Maylene blinked. "Woah. You look like Grace when you do that."

"Do what?"

"That eyebrow thing— nevermind." She shook her head in dismissal. "I kind of need help to figure out how to step forward. Lucario is still here and could help, but he's… we were raised together. He's my brother. We think too similarly, and I was hoping to get someone who's a little different to help me."

"Help you do what? I'm no Gym Leader, I have no idea how to even begin to run a Gym."

"I just need you to help me be a judge of character," Maylene blurted out. "And maybe to bounce ideas off of you, just to help me think."

"Ah yes, Denzel is the same." Cecilia felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought of her friend, still in a medically induced coma because the pain would have been too much for him to bear if he were awake. Hopefully they would wake him up soon. "Very well. I will stick around, but I want something else in exchange," Cecilia said.

Maylene was clearly eager to help. "What is it? If it's within my capabilities, I'll do whatever I can."

"I need to use your arena if I can; an empty one is fine," she said. "If you can guarantee me privacy, I would appreciate it. If not, I'll find somewhere else."

A nod. "I can."

"And is it alright if there is some… damage dealt to the field?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's not like anyone's using it anyway. Knock yourself out."

"Thank you, Maylene," Cecilia said, leaning forward. She crawled on all fours toward Maylene, who squealed and reddened when Cecilia snatched her by the wrist. "Now, your aura. Show it to me."

Maylene must have blinked twenty times within five seconds. "W—what?"

"I want to see color again, and this is the perfect opportunity. Show it to me," she deadpanned.

"You can't just ask that so openly—" Maylene cut herself off and looked up at her, breathless. She wasn't short by any means, but Cecilia might have made her feel cornered due to how irritated she was at their previous conversation. "F—fine. Just be quick about it."

"This is a favor you owe me; I'll be as quick as I want to be."

On Maylene's slender finger, a flame of aura flickered to life, dancing with ethereal hues of ever-changing light blues. It gently radiantly pulsed with a mesmerizing cadence, casting subtle shadows that played across the office. Even the light it emitted basked the room in color, akin to some kind of lightshow. Cecilia stayed fixated on the flame for Arceus knows how long, her hand clamped down on Maylene's wrist that was growing sweatier by the second. The flame was growing more agitated too. Wilder, fraying right beneath Cecilia's eyes like a living thing cowering from her gaze. She could barely remember when something had her undivided attention like this. The sight was just so tantalizing that she almost wanted to touch the flame despite knowing it would burn her like last time. It was as if she'd been entranced.

"Can you make it a different color?" Cecilia asked.

Maylene took a bit to answer. She was still blushing and breathing harshly, as if she put any significance in this other than Cecilia needing to remember what seeing a color looked like.

"I—I don't think so? I mean, if it is, I've never heard of it. It's always just been blue," she mumbled, occasionally mixing up her words.

"What's with you?" Cecilia asked. "I grab your hand a little and you're squirming and stumbling over words. Legendaries." She let go of the wrist, and you'd think Maylene had been drowning, with how greedily she sucked in air. If Grace ever did this to her, the girl might actually die. "What's next, blushing if we ever drink from the same cup?"

"Wh—what, you asked me to see my aura! That's a— that's a very private part of my being! It represents who I am! You don't just—"

"Who cares, I've seen it already anyway," she dryly said.

"That's different!" Maylene clamored. "You asked me— you asked directly! In a room while we were alone!"

Cecilia ignored Maylene's antics and spoke again, "thank you; we can get to work, now." The Gym Leader gripped her shirt where her heart should have been, causing Cecilia to roll her eyes as she loomed over Maylene, who was heaving with each breath. "Listen, it doesn't mean anything. You're making stories up in your head out of nothing. I just used you to see blue again; it's as simple as that. I am not interested in anything further in any way, shape or form. Got it?" She glared, slightly angered at the idea that she'd asked for something culturally significant without knowing. If Maylene was going to be weird about it and make her uncomfortable, she wouldn't do it again, lest the girl get any ideas. Ri would be out of the Pokemon Center sometime this week, after all.

Maylene gulped, finally having recovered from her little crisis. "Got it. It was just intense and so out of nowhere… I'm straight."

Intense? All she'd done was look at a finger.

"Whatever you say; I believe you." Cecilia sat back down on the mat opposite of Maylene a little further, now. "Now, you wanted to bounce ideas off of me for your Gym. Bounce. Them." She might have let her frustration into that, from the way Maylene winced.

"Sorry, um, yeah, let me just get my thoughts in order." Maylene straightened herself against the wall and adjusted her collar, calling Arceus' name more times than Cecilia could count. "Um, you know, we can do it again. I won't be weird if I'm prepared—"

"No."

"But I—"

"I said no." She finally found it within herself to be loud and forceful, this time. "Are we going to work, or are we going to linger on something that doesn't matter? Because if it's the latter, I'll see myself out." Cecilia would lament the fact that she wouldn't be able to use an empty arena (all the ones at the League were closed or not built up yet, even for her), but she'd make due without it. If Zolst had been open to letting her fly on him to some wild mountain this wouldn't have been an issue in the first place. They needed a place in private where they could talk.

"Sorry, I'll stop bringing it up."

"Good." A small silence settled in, as if Maylene didn't know how to begin, so Cecilia took the lead. "Let's start with your father. Beyond the leak and his desperate, yet futile attempt at relevance, has he done anything else?"

"He was still logged into the Gym's email and he was still answering stuff for me, so I had to change the password. I haven't told it to anyone else, so it should be safe," Maylene said with a hint of annoyance. "Aside from that, I'm pretty sure he's in contact with some of my Gym Trainers."

Cecilia scoffed. "Childish pranks beneath his standing, as expected of people like him when they lose all leverage— well, not all leverage."

"I was getting to that. Cecilia, I— I don't know how I should take back control of my own Gym," Maylene heartily confessed. "He's gone, but it's like his shadow just suffocates and looms over everything."

"One can't undo decades of building a cult of personality with one order," the Unovan said with a tilt of her head. "Tell me, when do you plan on reopening the Gym?"

"Two weeks, give or take. Once Snowpoint is at least back on its feet, we can start opening up for a few hours per day, then we can ramp up until we're back at full capacity."

"This leaves you with a prime opportunity for some spring cleaning."

Maylene's expression went from nervous to confused. "Spring cleaning?"

"A purge, if you will."

The girl instantly denied. "No, no, I can't fire people! They have jobs, and families to take care of, especially now! And, like, logistically it'd be a nightmare. I'd have to replace them little by little, but people would catch on pretty quick, and good luck motivating people who know they're going to get fired to work."

"How purehearted," she dryly said. "But fair, you know better than I do and what you've said makes sense. Continuing on this angle, though, how many new people have you hired since your father left to Alola?"

Maylene held out a hand and counted on her fingers. "Um, let's see. I guess three new people— eight if you include replacing the people that quit since then."

"And how many Gym Trainers do you have in total?"

"Eighty-two. We have other people on payroll like technicians, janitors, PR people— but they're nowhere as involved in Gym Life as the Trainers."

Cecilia tapped a finger on her arm. "So you're telling me that the vast, vast majority of these people are from your father's administration of the Gym?"

Maylene's head jerked back. "Well— I didn't want to upstage my dad because he—"

"I'm sorry, I phrased that wrong," Cece said, instantly stricken by guilt. Her brusque wording could use some work, especially with someone as emotionally tender as this. "It's not your fault."

The Gym Leader nodded with a pained smile stretched across her visage. "With the power of hindsight I would have hired more people and maybe weaned out some of my dad's most ardent supporters sooner. We have the least amount of employees in a Sinnohan Gym anyway because— well, dad used to handle most things himself and wanted me to do the same."

Maylene went on to talk about Gym hiring practices and how her father would have the most demanding requirements if you wanted to get hired, which was something she had since changed. As it turned out, Volkner also had the most Gym Trainers by far and Maylene didn't hesitate to complain about how Sunyshore was a money sink because he was too lazy to do the job himself. Cecilia was content to let her talk so she could cheer up after her blunder.

"Why don't you look to hire more people, then?" Cecilia asked.

"I considered it— but, like…" she groaned and threw her hands up. "I don't want the Gym to be a burden on Sinnoh's finances. In Sinnoh, we all run at a loss and our costs are covered by the government, but right now? The country doesn't need any more on its plate."

Cecilia peered at her, almost like she was dissecting Maylene. She was starting to understand who she was, and who she'd been. Of course, she'd known the big picture. Maylene had been raised and abused by her dad to fill in his shoes, and as a result she had burned out in a desperate act to please him et cetera, et cetera.

What was new was that she'd never really stopped to think how that had just killed her confidence in any decision-making. Cecilia could empathize given that she was plagued with doubt, even if today was one of her good days again due to the fact that she was helping a girl win against her abusive father. Motivation was something she was rarely short of, in cases such as these, but even before her death, back when all of this had started, she'd been content to just let her father rule her life until Grace and Denzel had stepped into the picture and changed her life for the better.

"I think we need to find another way. A way to manage with just the resources I have, at the moment." She rubbed her face with her hands and groaned. "Ugh, I just want to be the best Gym Leader I can be. I love this job. I want to make it work."

"Hesitation isn't always bad; it's a sign that you're giving something enough thought, and that's important. Especially for a Gym Leader," Cecilia said. "But you're beyond that. You're stuck in decisional paralysis and it's hampering your ability to run this Gym." She let the words sink in and kept going. "You don't want to fire anyone— even the people responsible for the leaks— you don't want to hire new people to shift the balance in your favor slightly, so what can you do? Find it. Consider this, Maylene. Your inaction now might cost more resources in the long term than incurring a short term loss right now. In an effort to please everyone, you might please no one at all."

Maylene wanted to fight her; Cecilia could tell from how her shoulders hunched up. "I think you might be right," she said. "I—I have an idea, then. A step one of some sorts. It'll need your help, still."

"Sure, what do I have to do?"

Maylene smirked. "Just stand behind me."



The third of who knew how many Gym Trainers hesitantly stepped inside of Maylene's office. This one was the youngest yet, which was still a man in his thirties; the most unique part about him was his droopy eyes. He sported the usual Gym Trainer uniform for Veilstone, a short-sleeved shirt with an orange and white motif with a Pokeball embroidered on his chest, and orange jogging pants that were so baggy Cecilia couldn't see the outline of his legs. The moment he stared at Cece, he tensed up and swallowed the words he'd been about to say. She was standing with her hands behind her back behind Maylene's desk, her body unmoving.

Cecilia was content to be a human Intimidate, if Maylene needed it to negotiate. Apparently word of her attempting to choke Oscar to death had gotten around the Gym and had given her quite the fearsome reputation, not because they thought she'd be able to actually kill him (though some people were saying that she might be an actual ghost, somehow), but that she had dared in the first place. It'd be annoying if it ever got out of the Gym's ecosystem. It looked like she was a few inches taller than this one; height worked well for fear-based tactics, she had found.

"Darius, welcome, welcome. Sit down," Maylene said, gesturing with her hand. She'd even put on her fingerless gloves for this to appear as official as possible. "Don't mind Cecilia, she's a friend. I bet you know her, though."

The so-called 'Darius' cleared his throat, dragged the chair they'd brought up here and plopped himself into it. He plucked at some dead skin on his thumb— a nervous tic, no doubt. Every so often, he would glance back at her and she would stand there, unblinking, unmoving, until he shrank into his chair like having her here was just uncomfortable.

Was she really that bad?

Regardless, Darius was one of the oldest and most long-worked Gym Trainers at the Veilstone Gym, given that Oscar had hired him at the ripe age of sixteen straight out of his first Circuit. Maylene already had his file open, which she was idly looking through as a pressure tactic.

"Darius, how have you liked working for me these past… coming up on two years, now? A year and a half."

"It's been fantastic. Really, Leader Maylene." He dipped his head in respect, something which was usually only done for Oscar. Cecilia caught Maylene's displeasure, but the Gym Leader couldn't cut him off now that she had the momentum. "You're so young, yet with your skill and upbringing, you've been able to steer Veilstone and its Gym through troubling times…"

Maylene closed his folder and threw it on her desk. "My upbringing. Let's talk about it, then," she said with a smile as fake as plastic. "Oscar handed me the reins when he decided that knocking someone up was more important than people like you. People who live here. In fact, he was so obsessed with his new wife that he let Team Galactic build a base under our feet. So let's talk about why you're making it so difficult to run this Gym without any interference from outsiders."

"A house divided against itself cannot stand," Cecilia added. She noticed that Darius relaxed slightly when she spoke and made a note of that; it was the second time it had happened. It appeared she was more effective when silent, as if speaking made them remember that she was still human.

"Leader Maylene—"

She clicked her tongue. "No, I'm not finished. Medicham overheard you talking about how you hope you get back to the 'good old days' with some of your colleagues the day after my father came back. Coincidentally, our cameras have shown that you've been texting a whole lot lately. You're usually so focused on your job that I had to wonder what was going on." She paused and drummed her fingers against her desk, as if she was in her element. She was gentle, yet stern. In charge, yet not overbearing. "My father's been trying to put down roots here. Let me ask you straight up, would you rather see him as a Gym Leader? You're free to speak your mind; I won't fire you no matter what you say despite what my friend here thinks." Maylene nudged her head toward Cecilia.

Honesty and mercy, Cecilia had learned these last interviews, went a long way to make people honest in turn. There were few things more loyal than a man who you'd spared despite having every right to kill him— though in this case, it was fire.

"It's complicated." He rubbed his chin in contemplation. "You have to understand that I— he's the one who taught me everything I know. I understand that you're the Gym Leader; I don't want you to step down, but I thought that he could help around the Gym. That he'd be what we needed to cheer up the place. I figured he'd be the— yes, glue's the word. The glue we needed."

"And now you are aware that he's trying to undermine me at every turn," she said, her tone somehow still warm. "My father's no man for compromise. With him, things always have to go his way. You know that."

Darius grimaced, but nodded.

"So you understand that your childish need for some sort of nostalgic, non-existent golden age has jeopardized my ability to run this Gym."

"That's… I guess so, Leader Maylene. I accept full responsibility for my actions."

"Good! Now, I am giving you one last chance," with each word, she tapped her desk with her knuckles. "Stop trying to get Oscar back in, and this'll all be swept under the rug. I will catch on eventually if you do. Just be what the Veilstone Gym needs right now: a good employee. Am I clear? Don't make me regret this."

"Yes, Leader Maylene—"

"And stop bowing down to me. This is your job, not some old Kalosian court," she groaned. "We're all people here."

Once they were done, Maylene told Darius to call in the next person on her list. Darius hastily left the office, thanking her five times for this chance. When you'd worked somewhere as long as him, Cecilia guessed, the prospect of quitting or being fired might as well have been a death sentence. As soon as they were alone again, all of the fake strength and poise Maylene had been projecting left her body, and she lay down on her desk with her head on her arms.

"Ugh, I hate ultimatums like this, but at least it went well." Her voice was muffled by her speaking face down against her desk. "How did I do?"

"Just like last time, I believe it went well. Better than how you fumbled with Joe, at least," Cecilia said. Maylene had let the first person she'd called in walk all over her until Cecilia had forced her to get her wits about her.

"Once the older Gym Trainers stop pushing to replace me with my dad or trying to get him involved in the Gym, it'll diffuse down the ranks. Or hopefully it will, they have a lot of influence," Maylene said.

Cecilia inclined her head in acquiescence. While Maylene hadn't taken much of her advice, she couldn't deny that she'd been of use here today. Hopefully Maylene would be able to do this without her from today forth. The goal was independence for her. The Unovan was learning here as well. Learning how to handle positions of leadership first-hand in a way that couldn't be imagined in her notes or daydreamed in her head.

Yes, Cecilia thought as she smiled, this would do just fine.



Afternoon waned when Cecilia made her way to the Gym's arena, two Pokeballs on her hip. It felt odd, being here without the crowd filling the elevated bleachers on each side of the field. Maylene's arena was a simple one: a relatively flat field of earth and rocks. Cecilia had heard that she was planning on renovating it next Circuit to better represent the fighting type, though Cece had no idea what that implied. Her mind wasn't built to be a Gym Leader, but Maylene could talk on and on about it.

The arena was silent; there wasn't even a Kadabra in sight. Instead of making her way up the stairs toward the metallic, raised platform trainers stood on, she kept walking into the arena. The earth felt hard underneath her feet as she traveled all the way to the center, basking in the sight her Pokemon had seen many times before. There was a small stirring within her; the embers of a passion for battle that still remained. Maybe once she figured out how to fix things with her team, she would start training again. The Conference would be good experience, if anything.

Talonflame's Pokeball filled her palm, but it did the same for her heart, only with waves of guilt so powerful they were nearly debilitating. It was different now that they were out of the Distortion World. Things were normal, now. She had no excuse not to confront her mistakes when she let her Pokemon out.

She sharply sucked in the warm air through her teeth.

"I better put my money where my mouth is," she said, almost so quiet she would have been inaudible to anyone next to her. She'd given Maylene advice about decisional paralysis, yet it was that same paralysis that haunted her. Not just for her team, but for her other issues as well. "Okay. Okay, let's do this."

Talonflame would be a little easier to handle, if anything. Red bled into the world; shaping itself into her until she was out of her Pokeball. The flying type blinked a few times, yet her gaze softened when she saw Cecilia alive and well. She tried to bring a hand closer to Talonflame to scratch the hot skin beneath her feathers, but her Pokemon flinched away and the moment was gone.

Much work had to be done. An apology, no matter how much she meant it, would not cut it.

"Remember this place?" Cecilia asked. "This is Veilstone's Gym. I figured it would be needed for the conversation I'm about to have with Zolst."

Talonflame nodded sagely, as if to commend her for the good idea. She chirped, something soft she rarely showed to people she wasn't close to. The worry in it was palpable.

"I'll be fine, he won't hurt me. He'll be careful," Cecilia said. "But I need to talk to you as well. I will ask you right away, do you no longer want to be with me?"

The fire type squawked indignantly, flapping her wings with enough strength to propel the small pebbles on the ground. The wind felt slightly sharp against her legs and arms— her stitches felt tight on her face as she grimaced. Cecilia could not help but think that she did not deserve her. Talonflame had always been level-headed to a fault— able to analyze the pros and the cons of a situation. Her responses were rarely so emotional, which meant that she truly wanted to stick around.

"Then how do I make it up to you?" Her voice was so small. So weak. Desperation gripped and shook her enough to bring her to her knees. "How do I fix things between us? I so desperately want to?"

She had asked them to work in tandem to get her killed.

She had asked Lehmhart to kill her, and made Slowking work to convince him.

She had thrown it all away without hesitation. Without a modicum of regret until the end came.

"Can I even fix things?" she asked. "Or will this shadow haunt us for decades to come? My entire life?"

Talonflame tilted her head and pecked at Cecilia's knee. A strict coo coaxed her ears, as if to tell Cecilia to not let defeatism grip her so, or something akin to that. Deep down, Cecilia knew Talonflame wouldn't have the answers she sought. There was no pros and cons list to be made, no apology powerful enough, no way to twirl a wand and make it all go away. The flying type extended her wings and took to the air; a bright ball of fire and feathers whose colors Cecilia could no longer appreciate, and Talonflame sang. The flames carried her voice, which was accentuated by their roar. Dust and rocks picked up in a flaming cyclone below the flying type. Cecilia felt the heat wash over her, yet it still did not warm her core.

"I think I understand," she said. "You are asking me to see you."

Her voice had been quiet through the fire, yet Talonflame's hearing was just as good as her eyesight.

"To make time for you. To live with you. To train with you. To travel with you," Cecilia said, finally understanding "You want me to be a trainer again, with all the banality that entails."

The flames cut off, winking out of existence like a candle between two fingers. With small embers still flickering on her wings, Talonflame rushed back down and wrapped her wings around Cecilia. The heat still emanated from her feathers, but not enough to burn.

Cece caressed the side of Talonflame's face with a smile. "I get it. I will be better from now on, and as soon as the rest of the team is out of the Pokemon Center I'll—"

Her throat tightened.

"I'll—"

It wouldn't come out. The promise to go out on her own with her team was stuck, unable to be vocalized.

"I'll see what I can do to get them to agree." A lie smothered in half-truths; she had learned well from Grace. "Allow me to speak with Zolst next."

While Talonflame wanted to stay out in case the dragon got too rowdy and she needed some wind to knock back debris, Cecilia was convinced a one-on-one conversation was what they needed for them to ever begin to see eye to eye. The respect lost if Cecilia had a protector with her would be massive.

"You mustn't forget that he's also mad at all of you for accepting the plan to kill me," Cecilia said. "While he would never hurt me, he might attack you if provoked."

Satisfied with that answer, Talonflame accepted her terms and melted back into her ball. With a deep breath and a countdown, Cecilia released Hydreigon far enough for her to be certain there would be no accidents, but not far enough as to be too distant. The dark type was a hulking mass of scale and muscle, a creature that embodied raw power barely contained that you could see pulse out of him in thin lines. Each of his six wings moved individually, sometimes bumping into each other. From Zolst's central head, a menacing growl rumbled while his two other heads roared with a barely contained rage that sent spittle and the smell of dragonfire wafting throughout the battlefield.

Cecilia's hair flew back, and she wiped saliva with her thumb. "It's me again, Zolst. The Nurse Joys said you gave them trouble—"

Instantly, light built up in the right head's mouth. Before Cecilia's brain even registered what was going on, a burst of energy hit to her left, digging and digging into the earth until all that was left was smoldering mud.

Cecilia did not flinch. Dying once came with losing that fear, for better or worse— not that she thought the dragon would ever hurt her. If she had, she wouldn't have been doing this.

"Which one was that? Ten percent? No, eight, maybe." She circled around Hydreigon as she questioned him. "Dragon Breath, surely. It's difficult to tell without color, but it was less orderly and wilder than a Dragon Pulse. It's been a while since you've had to use that, Zolst."

Another Dragon Breath hit where she would have walked in ten steps, this one slightly stronger. The left head snapped and tried to attack the right, as if to bite its neck and get its attacks to be stronger. They were conscious, but animalistic, Cecilia knew. Nothing like the central head which was the one in charge. They usually didn't fight this hard— Cecilia's death might have affected them all, not just Zolst. The bickering continued until Zolst blew another weak Dragon Breath on his left head, which grunted in pain and was left somewhat burned.

Slowly but surely, Cecilia was circling, yet approaching Zolst. "I won't tell you I'm sorry, even though I am. I spoke with Talonflame before this." Cecilia explained the flying type's plan as quickly as she could, not even getting interrupted by each strike growing closer and more intense. The remaining heat of a crater left next to her was a painful singe on her legs. He wasn't on board. "I'm not telling you to forgive me now. That would be foolish— I just want you to give me another chance. I know you're angry at the others, but you should focus on me. I gave the order. I let it get to that point. I promise I will never betray you again. So please."

She was close enough, now. Standing on her tiptoes, Cecilia outstretched a hand and slowly brought it over Zolst's head. She could see the doubt in his eyes— not that doubt at his anger, but the doubt at what he should do next. Hydreigon opened his mouth and a brighter, fiercer, unyielding force burst from his skin. The flames, she knew, would have been turquoise once.

This was a test. He was asking her if she was worthy of his respect, and therefore a second chance. The draconic energy was not painful, not beyond the feeling of touching hot pavement, but the true test was the insidious need to bow her head; the defeatism spreading through her; the feeling that she was about to be conquered.

Standing around him when she'd been an aspect of Willpower had been much easier. Cecilia's knees buckled, but she steeled herself. A sharp inhale, then—

She never got to touch him.

All of his head whirled to the side and the fire intensified until Cecilia fell to her knees, which scraped against the earth. Hydreigon lunged forward, and it took Cece a few seconds to gather the courage to turn her head, she saw the three-headed dark type halfway through the field, barrelling toward a Lucario. Her head, still foggy from Zolst, went to Ri first before she realized this was Maylene's and that she was standing right there. The possibility of a looming accident got her to think straight and she whipped out Zolst's Pokeball and recalled him before he could get to Lucario and his trainer. Aura had been surging around the steel type's skin, blue yet dimmer than what she'd come to expect.

Her throat was dry with the taste of defeat.

This had been her chance, and she'd blown it.

It was however many seconds later that Maylene ran up without Lucario with her. "Cecilia, are you okay?" She tried to give Cecilia a hand, but the Unovan knocked it away.

"What," she slowly said, her voice frigid, "are you doing here?"

It was only then that Maylene must have realized she'd done something wrong; her face fell into a million pieces. "Lu—Lucario was passing in one of the nearby hallways and sensed something wrong," she scrambled for an excuse, and Cece slowly stood up. Her body felt limp. "Then he told me that you were getting attacked—"

"You spied on me!" Cecilia lashed out.

"No! I wanted to make sure you were be okay!" Maylene yelled. A sorry excuse. "You can't just— it looked like you were in danger! I thought you were going to talk to your Pokemon and maybe train—"

"I. Was. Talking!" Cecilia took a step forward, her face twisting into a menacing scowl. Then another. Then another until Maylene's back was against the wall and Cecilia slammed her hand right next to her head. "Zolst is my Pokemon," she hissed. "What gives you the idea that you would know how we communicate? What gives you the right to assume that there is a correct way to do it or not?!"

"Lucario heard explosions and sensed aggressiveness that was way too real to be—"

"And now my attempt at rebuilding the bridge is ruined," Cecilia sighed, her domineering ways rapidly disappearing. Her hand slid off the wall and went limp against her side. "So utterly ruinous," she muttered to herself. "I don't know if I will get another chance like this any time soon."

"I'm sorry, Cece. I really thought you needed help—"

"Don't call me Cece," she snapped. "I'm leaving. I'll wait for Kadabra in front of the Gym." She hastily turned and began to stomp away. "Text me if there's anything else with your father. Have a great rest of your day and good luck with your employees," she tersely said.

More work was needed to mend what she'd broken.

Hard choices would have to be made, but for now, she wanted to see Grace.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap
 
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Chapter 321
Togekiss/Princess (Hustle) - Pound, Sweet Kiss, Growl, Headbutt, Fairy Wind, Ancient Power, Extrasensory, Thunder Wave, Air Cutter, Wish, Psychic, Shadow Ball, Dazzling Gleam, Moonblast, Charge Beam, Air Slash, Mystical Fire, Tri-Attack, Nasty Plot, Defog

Jellicent/Buddy (Water Absorb) - Bubblebeam, Night Shade, Absorb, Water Sport, Water Pulse, Hex, Poison Sting, Mist, Acid Armor, Shadow Ball, Recover, Brine, Whirlpool, Hydro Pump, Water Spout, Acid, Will-O-Wisp, Ice Beam, Taunt, Scald, Boil, Freeze, Protect, Ice Blade, Rain Dance, Extrasensory

Electivire/Honey (Motor Drive) - Thundershock, Swift, Electric Swift, Thunder Punch, Charge, Leer, Ice Punch, Thunderbolt, Discharge, Fire Punch, Protect, Cross Chop, Thunder, Low-Kick, Screech, Radiant Leap, Static Shield, Bulldoze, Hammer Arm, Rain Dance, Lightning Bolt

Tangrowth/Angel (Chlorophyll) - Vine Whip, Absorb, Mega Drain, Stun Spore, Bind, Poison Powder, Leech Seed, Ancient Power, Power Whip, Knock Off, Sunny Day, Giga Drain, Sleep Powder, Solar Beam, Solar Blade, Brick Break, Ingrain, Bulldoze

Tyranitar/Sweetheart (Sand Stream) - Leer, Tackle, Horn Attack, Rock Throw, Payback, Stomping Tantrum, Smack Down, Bite, Rock Slide, Crunch, Sandstorm, Iron Defense, Dragon Pulse, Iron Head, Earthbreaker, Aerial Ace, Stone Edge, Dark Pulse, Rock Polish, Surf, Earthquake

Turtonator/Sunshine (Shell Armor) - Smog, Ember, Smokescreen, Incinerate, Iron Defense, Flamethrower, Shell Trap, Dragon Pulse, Bulldoze, Scorching Sands, Rock Tomb, Body Slam, Flash Cannon, Solar Beam, Rapid Spin, Scale Shot, Iron Tail, Focus Blast, Sunny Day, Fire Pillar, Flame Charge, Heat Crash, Fire Blast

Claydol (Levitate) - Mud Slap, Rock Tomb, Rapid Spin, Harden, Confusion, Psychic, Barrier, Imprison, Wide Guard, Light Screen, Reflect, Ancient Power, Teleport

Meltan/Mimi (???) - Not a battler

CHAPTER 321

No matter how much food you made, a Tyranitar would make it look like a small portion. It had taken me all morning, but I'd baked a hazardous berry-based cake (as it turned out, baking was in a whole other ballpark than cooking, and I was not great at it), bought out a crap ton of raw meat south of the city that Buddy had carried for me with Extrasensory, and a bunch of random Pokemon-friendly sweets— or at least the label said it was friendly for all Pokemon regardless of species.

Sweetheart had finished it all in a minute and a half. She'd eaten so much of it that I'd needed to slow her down so Honey could get some. Luckily, he ate nowhere as much as her. The rest of my Pokemon with me either couldn't or didn't need to eat, though not for lack of trying. Once Meltan saw Sweetheart and Honey eating, they got jealous and tried to have a piece of Cheri berry that they quickly spat back out ruined and full of rusted metal. I did learn that they could do little shocks through their tail, though it had been an accident; they'd released a tiny spark from the sheer amount of disgust they'd felt, barely enough to feel a jolt up my arm.

That had been thirty minutes ago. We were out of the city up north close to where Jasmine took me to talk and recount the stories about her colleagues, where the sea met steep, jagged knife-like cliffs and waves battered the island day in and day out. You could smell the salt in the air, hear the ocean constantly to the point that the occasional stretch of silence without a wave to crash into the bluffs was odder than not. Jellicent was flattened into a disc above the picnic blanket, shielding me from the sun and ejecting cold air down so the heat wouldn't affect me too much. Cassianus hovered next to us with two of their eyes on a certain battle and the rest focused on analyzing each fiber on the straw hat they currently levitated in front of their face. Oh, that hat was mine; it was the one Cece had bought me for my birthday that I'd worn today. They'd wanted to 'study its structural integrity' to see if it could be worn in fights, somehow, and I'd answered that I could probably find a steel cap for them if they wanted one so bad.

As for the rest of the team? Sweetie and Honey were playing tag in the distance, hence the 'fight'. The rock type was always the hunter due to Honey's agility making things unfair for her otherwise.

Another rumble beneath me. Tyranitar let out a guttural roar and stomped a foot against the ground. It rose, rose, rose until it looked like it would burst open and spew the world's innards out into the world; instead she sent the protrusion forward as if it was a wave of solid earth. Mimi rode atop her head and cheered, though they made sure to hide behind one of the spikes on her back whenever they got scared. Electivire was not idle— he never was. With a teasing grin, he hopped left and right before blurring into golden lightning, easily avoiding the wave which exploded behind him with heated mud and shards of pointed stones. He was speed incarnate, and he was growing faster by the second as he got going.

But! She'd laid a trap for him. The earthen wall had obstructed his vision, and she'd begun to wrap rock from the ground around her tail. With a swift movement, she turned and swept her tail toward Electivire. The rock around it shattered into a thousand pieces of shrapnel that would have torn through me like paper, and it exploded in Electivire's general direction. Fast or not, Sweetheart had sent the rocks in an arc too wide for him to dodge through movement alone. He slid on the grass until he came to a stop, leaving scorched plants behind him, and held up his hands with a hefty grunt.

The rocks never touched him. Through magnetism, he held them back as if he had a psychic barrier to pull on, and a ring of electricity burst through his fur, throwing them back at Sweetheart. The dark type snorted when they helplessly bounced against her and tapped the ground below her with another foot. With a rumble, pillars of rugged stone answered her command, already sharp and ready to cut and crush whatever was in her way—

"She's getting too into it," I complained. "Tell her off."

Claydol looked smoother now that they were out of the Pokemon Center, their crags and dents having disappeared under a new layer of clay. One of Cass' pink eyes swiveled my way. But my King, the Jester looks like he's having the time of his life. It would not be efficient to stop their battle now, according to my many calculations. The hat rotated under their careful gaze and their turret-like hands levitated to touch the straw. Such wonderful material… I wish to dissolve and study it. No, I wish to wear it on my head forever. And the ground type did so, placing the hat on their head and spinning it around with pleased eyes and a cheer from their soundboard.

Cute. I was—

My heart dropped when Honey laughed as he ducked under a slab of rock that might have sent him straight back to a Nurse Joy, and then he weaved around another, and another, and another. They all buried themselves behind him and made the earth shake, sending plumes of dirt high into the sky— some even went and fell into the ocean.

"You just don't want to be distracted from your fun," I said, rolling my eyes. Still, I was glad they'd come out of their shell and actually refused things now. "It's okay. We might have to fix this up before we leave, though. Trainer étiquette and all of that." Glancing at the state of their playground, Sweetheart kept upturning more and more earth while Honey's electricity burned some of the grassland when he got too carried away.

Case in point, the electric type placed a hand on one of the massive slabs buried in the earth and sliced through it like butter with another electrical barrage. He gathered the debris around his fist as if it was covered in glue and started punching the rocks Sweetheart kept sending. Each strike brought with it a brilliant, blinding explosion of energy that rendered the smaller rocks red with heat and the larger ones broken by his side. Sweetheart argued that counted as contact. Of course, never to be outdone by his baby sister, Honey cackled and said he'd give her the win if she was so desperate for one, targeting her competitiveness as he beckoned her with a hand encased in cracking electrified stone.

It obviously worked, and rules were adjusted.

"These kids have so much energy, it's like nothing happened at all," I said. We were really kicking nature around here, with how the place was starting to smell like cut and burned grass.

Buddy sighed, saying that just looking at them was making him tired.

"Kinda," I agreed. "Well, better Sweetie tire herself out now so she naps later in the day."

The game of tag continued in earnest, with Honey having to work for his buck. In a straight fight, I imagined Sweetheart would handily win, but this was a game to both. Or at least I thought so until Honey, close to losing through a surprise patch of liquified earth which bogged him down and spread far enough to stop him from quickly escaping, began gathering up energy around his fist as the stone around it crumbled.

Huh, that was interesting. She hadn't rendered the solid dirt to mud through TE manipulation, but used ground water instead with Surf for a slower and more discrete trap. She was really getting into this ambush predator thing we'd pushed for in the fight with Byron.



Argh, this was annoying. There was so much potential there, potential that I didn't have the energy to think about at the moment. My Pokemon might have recovered well from Coronet thanks to not having gone through the Distortion World, but it was me who was holding them back, now. Even after the meeting with Mallory and Rood, the spark was still missing. Something was still missing. Was it because I wasn't involved in the actual fight? If I was out there, giving out directions and actually battling, would I find the motivation that had made me go through countless sleepless nights to study each and every single tactic employed by my opponent?

While I was deep in thought, in order not to lose, Honey snapped a finger from which electricity coalesced, and with a harsh motion, he sent it flying. It was a weak blast, barely thicker than a Thundershock and dimmer than even that, but the goal wasn't to harm.

Sweetheart's left leg jerked back as soon as the electricity hit her, and she tripped before she could send another set of rocks barrelling toward Honey. With a loud crash, she tripped and fell back, carving a Tyranitar-shaped hole into the earth. The rock type screamed in anger in frustration and called for my name, which made a bunch of wild Pokemon which had gathered a few hundred feet away to watch the fight run off. Starly, Furret, Sunkern and the like. Honey was still panting from how he'd exerted himself near the end of that training session.

I jogged my way toward the two, carefully avoiding craters, ravines or even small hills created by the earth-waves Sweetheart had made. Once I reached her, she was still thrashing around and whining about how it was unfair how she'd lost. It was so cute my lips nearly involuntarily smiled, really. I crouched next to her and ran a hand over her hardened plate after motioning for Honey to come over.

"C'mon, I know you can get up on your own," I gently said. "Don't be a crybaby, now."

She clamored that he cheated, that he sucked, that he deserved to fall off the cliffs and a million other things. That was good news. When she was actually mad at someone, there was rarely any meaning to her screams. I kept soothing her and waited for Honey to get here, even if he was obviously taking longer than needed. He could have been here within a second if he wanted to, but he was dragging it out because he was nervous.

"Where did Mimi go?"

The metallic blob squealed from somewhere in Sweetheart's vents.

"Ugh, get out of there! That's— that's not meant for you!" I put my head near one of the vents on Sweetheart legs and called out for the steel type. "She's going to forcefully kick you out if you don't get out of there. Right?" I waited for an answer from Sweetie, but she was too busy whining to care. Mimi squeaked and I saw a glimpse of metal at the edge of the hole. I quickly snatched the Meltan with a victorious grin and watched them squirm in my hand.

"Don't go in there, alright?" I scolded.

Mimi echoed a sad mewl with something akin to tasty.

"Were you munching on the grains of sand in there?" I asked. There were minerals in them. Upon closer look, the blob was covered in a little sand. My answer was a metallic burp that smelled like iron and rust. "Well that explains everything. Using the fight as a distraction? You little devil! I thought you were scared!"

Sweetheart slowly got up and patted herself down, having finished her tantrum. Mud, grass and dirt slid off her armored plating and she asked for Mimi to get back on her head as her cheerleader, which the steel type hastily obliged after I warned them not to sneak into her vents again.

I'd missed this. The chaos, the personalities clashing. We'd all had a heartfelt reunion when I'd released them for the first time out of the Center, of course, but now it was like everything was back to how it usually was, and for once it did not feel like the world was leaving me behind, but I was being dragged along with it.

Not fully, however. As soon as she'd been done eating, Sweetheart had asked me when we'd start training again because she was eager to fight and keep growing. Despite Buddy calling it mildly insensitive, Honey trying to silence her by putting a hand over her mouth, Cass calculating the best way to respond to this was silence (they just didn't want to step on anyone's toes) and me dodging the question by saying we'd have that conversation when everyone was back from the Center, it left the question turning over in my mind like a seed had been planted.

An annoying one, not that I'd ever tell her that. The real answer was that I didn't know. I would fight Byron again because I had a fiduciary duty to Poketch to give the Conference my best shot, but I truly didn't know.

"Took your time there," I told Honey.

The electric type scratched the back of his head, not bothering to find an excuse. Instead, he shied away from Sweetheart's glare.

"So, were the rules of this game of tag actually established before you started, or were you just bs'ing it?"

The two agreed that they agreed on a framework of rules mostly based on Honey's fight with Volkner's Electivire. That was what I'd figured, but they added that they both had to hold back, relying on simple attacks because it would make the game unfair.

I crossed my arms, ignoring the vibrating phone in my pocket. "So what constitutes a simple attack?"

Honey shrugged, and Sweetheart called him stupid. I thought they'd start bickering, but the rock type added that him forcing her to move with his electricity obviously went against the spirit of the game, which was something I could agree with. Honey countered by arguing that using the water underground wasn't simple either, but she said he'd upped the ante with that electrified stone fist thing he'd done. He grunted noncommittally and whispered with twisting tails that if he hadn't done anything, he would have lost.

"Hon, it's a game. You could have let it reach its natural conclusion," I gently scolded with my hands on my hips. "Would you have liked it if she just created an earthquake under your feet and opened a rift there to trap you so you couldn't win? And let's be honest here, she would have won if this wasn't a for fun thing. You can't fly just yet, kiddo."

The electric type nervously shuffled toward her, head hung low in shame, and he offered her a genuine apology for breaking the terms of the game without warning. When he was done, he kicked some dirt and looked away. Sweetheart huffed and blew some darkened grains of sand in his face, which made him cough and shake his hand to clear the air. That reaction had her grin, but I had to intervene again to tell her not to do that when he'd just apologized. Really, it was all in good fun given that Honey gave her the win and asked for a rematch— a best of three.

"Yeah, and when you lose the best of three, you'll ask for a best of five," I teased.

Sweetheart stuck out her scaly tongue at him and snorted, and he gave her a thumbs down while he complained that she was getting too cocky; he would prove her wrong very soon. She grinned, all sharp and menacing, ready to rise up to the challenge. As a final jab, she brought up that there was a reason Mimi was on her shoulder and not his, which the steel type gasped at. They loved being the center of attention while acting all innocent. While they went back to take their place, I finally checked my phone. It had vibrated three times while I'd been mediating this 'conflict'. What greeted me were three notifications from a panicked Maylene.

Maylene - Im so sry

Maylene - I messed up with Cecilia

Maylene - I interrupted her conversation with Hydreigon and now shes super pissed at me im sry i rly fucked up

Maylene - It was an accident i thought she was gonna get hurt

I winced and bit my lip. With how Cece spoke with Zolst, it was easy to see how someone could get the wrong idea. After what she'd done against Jupiter, that dragon was going to be a lot. I stared at my phone for a few seconds, not knowing what to do. Already, I could see Cece had left the group chat, which was whatever. So long as she wasn't going to run away somewhere so she could be alone…

You - Is she back?

Maylene - I teleported her w Kadabra. She didnt want to talk to me and i knew trying to mend things right now would make things worse so idk if i should have intervened i didnt

You - Alright, thanks. Talk to you later.

You - Don't beat yourself up over it. It's not really your fault.

I called out to my Pokemon and told them playtime was over for now, something that both were annoyed by but understood when I explained the big picture. While Cass was fixing up the terrain as best they could and teaching Sweetheart in the process for a change, I gathered our supplies and made sure we wouldn't forget anything. This morning and afternoon had been fun, but my girlfriend needed me.

If only I'd had Princess, the trip back would have been so much faster.

I missed her. And I missed Sunshine and Angel, too.



I'd recalled Cass only when I'd made it inside the hotel. Cecilia's flats were in the entryway to our condo when I came back, hurriedly thrown off and not placed orderly to the side as usual. The place itself looked normal without an object out of place, which was good news. I figured maybe she would have trashed it again like she had at Lake Valor, but that appeared to have been a one off. Calling out for her, I made my way deeper into the apartment. Usually, Cece would have been sitting at the dinner table typing away at her laptop doing research, or maybe browsing the forums on her phone while watching the news.

"I'm in the bedroom," her voice called back as loud as it could be, which wasn't very much outside of specific circumstances.

It was hesitant, and most of all it sounded defeated. Almost as defeated as it had been shortly after she'd died, but not as bad. The way my legs immediately started running her way without my conscious doing was no longer a surprise; Cece was just that important to me. I nearly tripped on the little ledge up the corridor leading to our bedroom, scrambling my way forward until I found myself facing her. She didn't just sound defeated, she looked like it, too. Not on her face, for it looked like she would nearly always vacillate between pissed or pissed outside of the little rays of happiness that occasionally shone through, but in the way she carried herself. Her head hung low, eyes avoiding contact and staring blankly at the ground. Her shoulders were tightly wound inward, and while there were no traces of it left on her face or in her eyes, there were dried tears on her cheeks. Hydreigon's Pokeball sat alone on the bedside table, dents and all.

Talonflame was with her, a wing carefully laid on her foreleg. I gave the flying type an appreciative look— Arceus knew that her presence had been needed.

"I was gonna call you," Cece quietly said, her hands sinking against the mattress. "But then I remembered you must have been having a good time out, and I didn't want to get in the way of that, so—"

She was in my arms before she could finish that sentence. "Stupid," I berated her, carefully running a hand through her hair behind her head. After a few seconds, our foreheads touched and her trembling breath brushed against my face. "I will always be here for you, okay? Always, no matter what happens. Understand?"

Her lips thinned; for a moment, I thought I'd have to fight her on this, but she nodded. "Yes. The truth is…" she trailed off and quietly gasped when my thumb caressed her cheek, just enjoying the moment. There was a certain harshness when it passed over one of her stitched up scars. "That— feels nice. Your hands are so soft."

"Mhm. Perks of having new skin, I guess."

"The truth is," Cece repeated herself, "I probably would have ended up calling you anyway. Chase is busy, Denzel is asleep, Mira and Maeve are… gone, but they've got issues of their own and we aren't close enough. Pauline and Emi… they wouldn't work. Louis, maybe." After a short sigh, her eyes widened a smidge. "Oh. I assume you know what happened, then."

"The big picture," I confirmed. "Maylene messaged me— she feels horrible for what happened, okay?" Maylene was probably still kicking herself despite my message; I'd have to call her about it later and try to mend things between these two. It'd be a shame to have gone through such a story and let something like this get in-between our friendships. Coronet and beyond had linked us for life. "It's fully within your right to be angry, but you have to understand. Maylene's a good kid, sometimes to her detriment, even. The world wounds her again and again, yet she tries her best to do right by it, still. So of course if she thinks you might be in danger she'll do something about it." Cecilia's mouth twitched, and her jaw clenched. "It's okay to depend on her, too, like she's been depending on us. She's seen what you've seen."

It was difficult to tell when her eyes moved, but an attentive person could do it, still. When Cecilia glanced away, I kissed her forehead, then gently dragged her to lay down on the bed with me, our faces still close. She was clearly still vexed at what had happened, and that was okay. Talonflame hopped on as well, quiet and well-mannered. You'd almost think she'd been raised to be a 'proper' lady. Meltan had already crawled away from my wrist, intrigued by Talonflame's natural bodily warmth. Their little tail wagged as they approached the flying type, who seemed unsettled at their constantly changing body. Cecilia looked up at me, and a wordless agreement passed between us; she wiggled closer and put her hands around me, taking a deep breath against my chest.

"Want to eat something? I can cook you some food," I whispered.

There was a beat of silence before she answered. "I'm okay. I'd like to stay like this for a while."

Cute enough to make me melt. "Okay; if you're sure. Tell me what went wrong today, then."

We stayed like this while she told me not only about the incident with Zolst, but everything that went on today from start to finish so I could get all the facts. Admittedly, Cece describing Maylene as flustered at her for nearly pinning her against the wall while she demanded to see her aura was hilarious, though I got it and kind of wished that had been me. Still, I'd already known she was gay or bi with how she fell in love with Virtuous me— here she just didn't know it yet, it seemed. Hopefully this wasn't anything like an unrequited crush and she'd just gotten caught off-guard, because that'd just be so messy; Cece having to break her heart would suck and I'd miss our friendship too much. It'd be smothered, extinguished before it could even properly bloom.

If it was a crush, maybe it'd be better to just say nothing, wait and let it fade when we went to Unova so we wouldn't have to mess things up. The distance would be of great help.

But then, things got serious. It was easy to see where the misunderstanding had taken place— Cecilia had asked for privacy, but not gone into much detail as to why, which was entirely within her rights; Maylene, who was still admittedly pretty normal, freaked out when her Lucario told her about how Zolst was feeling such rage toward his trainer, and she acted accordingly to prevent a potential accident.

No one was at fault.

"What if you…" it was difficult to find the right words. "And you think he won't let you speak to him one-on-one again?"

Cecilia's fingers clenched my shirt behind my back, her nails digging slightly through the fabric and sending tingles down my spine. "I don't know, I can't do anything right," she sighed. Talonflame protested by scolding her for giving up too quickly. "I know, I know. I can't let defeat cloud my reasoning, I'll have to try again. It's not like it'd be good to keep him in his Pokeball for too long anyhow, and he needs to eat, and—" Cecilia cut herself off, squeezing me tighter. "He'll think I had a protector there and it's set me back weeks. Possibly more than that." Her voice was muffled in my chest. She sniffled. "I considered just ripping off the band-aid and trying again immediately, but it's best to give him some time to cool off or it might actually be dangerous, especially without Slowking here."

My hand streaked through her hair. "You're right. Better safe than sorry, we don't want you in the hospital again." A flicker of doubt flashed on her face, and I could immediately tell what she was thinking. That a trip through the hospital would be worth a repaired relationship with her starter. "Baby, look at me." I gently grabbed her face with my hands and looked into her pale eyes. "What you need is to talk to him, not let him hit you until he's satisfied— and he wouldn't like that anyway, Zolst loves you! No matter how long it takes, I'm sure you'll have him back to his silly antics in no time."

"I hope so." Her heart was in it, this time.

"Hope is good," I said. "Hope is what keeps you alive when the chips fall and the knives are out."

"Ugh. I love you."

I snorted, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. "What was that groan?"

"Nothing," she said with a hint of a smile. "Anyway, how was your day?"

Beaming, I launched into everything I'd done today, and she was happy to listen. Eventually, when all was said and done and we continued talking about anything that came to mind, we must have fallen asleep because when I woke up, the sky was filled with the orange hues of sunset. The fact that I'd actually had an interrupted streak of sleep took a few moments to sink in, even if that had only been for… three hours according to my phone. Talonflame had fallen off the bed with her back to the floor and her talons up in the air—

Arceus, where was Mimi? They must have sneaked off somewhere while we'd been asleep. Rubbing my eyes, I turned toward my girlfriend. Cecilia's body was twitching and she was mumbling in her sleep, as if distressed by something.

She must have been in a nightmare.

I poked her in the cheek, and when that didn't work I lightly shook her shoulder until she woke up with a deep, raspy gasp of air that woke up Talonflame. The fire type's sudden scramble to her feet bumped her wing into the bedside table, knocking the lamp over and shattering the bulb. There was a familiar squeal, and Meltan crawled from under the bed, intrigued by the shards of glass that I'd have to clean up later.

"It's me," I softly said, clasping at her shoulder. "It's just me, baby. We're okay."

Her face slowly scrunched up, as if she remembered what she'd just seen. "Thank you for waking me. Were you—"

"I was fine, no worries. Hungry?" Her head tilted to the side, then nodded. "I still got some groceries leftover from earlier. 'Guess I'll make some food and let my team out." I slid away from the bed. "Falling asleep wasn't the plan."

Sweetheart was too big and heavy to be out in the condo, but I released the rest of my team and got started on something simple. There was still enough rice to last us days, and the raw meat I'd bought included chicken. While Buddy took over in Mimi-watching duties and was having what looked like a good time talking to Talonflame about her favorite sights when she went off flying who-knows-where, Honey and Cass helped me around the kitchen. The psychic liked giving me utensils or spices whenever I asked for them like a sous-chef, and they were very curious about them, too. Supposedly all Lakhutia had was salt from their cavern; they were an isolationist bunch that didn't let many traders in.

When they asked what cumin was made of exactly, though, I came up empty other than the fact that it was a plant of some kind.

The kitchen was pretty wide open to the entire condo, so I could see Cecilia sitting on the couch in the living room, her laptop on her knees. The fact that she was working again was good; I'd need to keep an eye on her in case she went into a self-depressive spiral again. Having this Role was enjoyable and it was important to not get hyper focused on my conversation with Rood and Mallory. It'd be a while until I'd get another one of those, and while I'd learned a whole lot about systematic failures and Team Plasma's endeavors, I hadn't actually gotten anyone's numbers or names for the original goal of the conversation: connections.

Speaking of, I needed to go to a Unovan embassy to get started on my Trainer Visa soon. Better early to get it out of the way. I'd go get the process started when Princess was out of the Center. She was the next one supposed to be out.

"Grace," Cece called from the living room. "Sarah Newman is in Sinnoh again."

Unconsciously, I stopped lathering the chicken in spices. "Oh. Oh, shit. She must have heard. Has she… spoken out to anyone yet?"

"She was never one for publicity, apparently," she said. "She's in Jubilife and has demanded to speak at the ceremony to celebrate Craig's life."

It was rather morbid, that this ceremony was now stated to be the day after Justin's funeral; we'd have to go through this sorrowful process back to back. Craig's funeral would be later, and as we weren't close, we wouldn't be allowed to come in.

Time was ticking… hopefully Mira would find Lauren before next week; I wanted to believe she wouldn't miss her brother's state-mandated ceremony and funeral, but—

I shook my head, chasing those thoughts away. If anyone was capable of finding her, it was Mira, and maybe Newman would try as well. They must have known each other.

When dinner was finished, Cece and I ate face to face in a comfortable silence often broken by bursts of chatter. Honey was eating by the TV to watch one of his cartoons with Mimi on his shoulder, Cass was still on their research binge about spices using my laptop, and Buddy was hovering behind me, nearly finished with his newest book that he sometimes told me about if he came across an interesting history tidbit. His latest obsession was a series of wars between the petty kings and queens of Kalos shortly after the collapse of the Chivalric Age: a stretch of a century and a half from the 1100s onward where conflicts were decided with Pokemon battles between chosen fighters instead of the bloodshed of war. Honestly, it was a wonder it had lasted that long, but honor was everything, back then. Eventually, the region would unify under one kingdom, creating a dynasty which lasted until the Great War.

Charles III Montreuil was the last of his line. His children and family were killed along with him. History was crazy like that, and I was learning a lot just through osmosis from Buddy's rants.

My feet poked at my girlfriend's legs under the table, and it felt good to see her body-language soften at each instance of contact. Eventually, when we were close to finished, Cecilia took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

She let go of her fork, which clinked on the side of the plate. "I was thinking… if I'm going to take my time to fix what I've done to my Pokemon," On the floor at the side of the table, Talonflame's eyes flickered my way cautiously, "I might need to leave. For a while."

It took a—

It took a bit to make sense of the words in my head. My body suddenly felt like it had been trapped or squeezed in a tight space. Somehow, it was like when you woke up after falling in a dream.

"Leaving. Like…" I probed for more information, trying to keep my voice still.

"I don't know where exactly," she continued. "Probably on one of the wilder routes like 220 or 211."

I tried to scrounge up memories of those routes from the maps Denzel used to buy, remembering I'd never actually been there. These were rarely sought after because they lay south of Twinleaf, one of them being composed mainly of ocean and islands in the strait between Johto and Sinnoh down south. There would be no reception, meaning I wouldn't be able to contact her for however long she stayed either by text or call.

I wouldn't be able to see her.

To touch her.

To hear her voice.

To talk to her.

She must have seen how morbid I looked, because she added, "only when all of my Pokemon are all out of the Pokemon Center, and I wouldn't miss Justin's funeral, either. We still have time." She leaned forward and reached toward me.

I flinched away. "Did— did I do something wrong?" My voice came as a stammer with a nervous, incredulous laugh, and my hands clenched below the table.

Pain flickered across her face. "That's not—"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." A sigh left my lips, and I realized my hands were beginning to sweat. "I shouldn't have said that."

"But you said it."

"I did."

"And now doubt is creeping in." Cecilia touched her heart and closed her eyes. "Now I don't want to leave. My heart. It aches. This wasn't… the goal, but maybe this will do us some good. To help return to normal again, like the last time we had to deal with this—"

"The last time was never this pronounced." I cut her off. Why did I cut her off I didn't want to cut her off I should shut up I should shut up. "I don't even know what normal is! I've never had that! We've never had that." My eyes felt wet. "At least let me come with you. I won't get in your way, just… please."

At this point, the commotion had reached the ears of even our Pokemon in the living room, who were all watching us with bated breaths.

"Maybe not normal, but just unable to live without seeing you for twenty-four hours is—" her defiance evaporated from one second to the next. I could see it written in the way her body lay about. "Fine. Maybe you can come with me. Maybe it's fine."

Talonflame chirped worryingly at her side before shooting me an unappreciative stare.

I realized what I'd done immediately. I was taking away her freedom to act; her need to be a trainer; her independence. The three things which she had internalized and desired since she had been a young child yearning to escape from the dark clutches of her father.

"I gotta— wait, I have to just go in the bathroom and clear my head. Don't leave, okay. Please," I spoke at a rapid pace as I shot up from the table.

When I passed by Honey, I asked him to shout for me if she left. I locked myself into the bathroom and ran the tap to wash the tears off my face. When I cut it off, it continued to drip into the sink, each drop a hollow echo that had reverberated in the silence of the room.

"Get a hold of yourself," I muttered, staring at my tired face in the mirror. "You're better. Be better. Don't twist yourself into the Role of a villain."

Cecilia was right. This wasn't even about being normal, this was about being healthy. No person with a healthy mindset would have reacted the way I have. She wasn't even leaving yet, but what about the future? What about Unova, where she would most likely have to spend days or weeks away from me on jobs with Professor Juniper or talking to whatever politicians or Gym Leaders she needed to? What about my own goals? We wouldn't be joined at the hip twenty-four seven like we could be these days.

"Legendaries, I'm pathetic."

I loved her. I loved her so much that I hurt her, because it felt like she'd been abandoning me.

The door swung open, and I barged through back into the living room, then into the kitchen. She was still here, staring at me with a blank look on her face. Electivire gave me a discreet thumbs up, meaning that she hadn't even tried to leave.

"I'm sorry; I was completely wrong and I hurt you." It was difficult to look into her eyes for too long without feeling like shame was dragging my head down like an anchor around my neck. "You should leave whenever your team is ready and rekindle your relationship. I'll be…" I swallowed. "I'll be fine. Don't hold yourself back because of me."

The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"I—" her breath caught in her throat. "If you're sure."

"I am." I wanted to tell her that I was happy she wasn't leaving yet, that we didn't need to speak like she was going to slip away any day now, but I didn't. It might influence her decision, and I'd now learned that my words had more power over her than they ever had.

I just didn't know how she could be so strong, still.

"So, um." I awkwardly shuffled in place. "Can we— go back to normal, or do you want me to leave for the night? I can stay at a Center or something; I'll basically have the entire place for myself." Deep inside, I was praying she'd say no.

"Stay. Of course, stay," she said, and I couldn't help but breathe in an immense sigh of relief.

I hadn't fucked up to catastrophic levels.



It was the next day now; the thirteenth of May. While Cecilia and the others had gone to visit Chase in the hospital, I'd left his room early to go see someone else. Denzel looked peacefully asleep, even with a mask keeping him asleep on his face. His chest rose up and down slowly, and his body was nearly sinking into the mattress below him. According to the nurses it was made of specialized material— an air-fluidized bed, one of them had called it— to minimize the pressure on his back as much as possible. He'd already had all of the dead skin removed and gotten a skin graft two days ago across his entire back, but it was still healing. His arm was hooked into an IV from which fluids continuously pumped into his body.

If he'd been awake right now, he'd be in agony, but he'd be up within the next few days, or so the doctor said. I smiled as I held onto his hand and brought it up to my cheek. It was warm. He'd done so much for us; without him the world might have ended. He was just as much of a hero as the rest of us, and he would get none of the credit he deserved.

The reason I hadn't come here as often as I should have was…

Well, his parents were allowed on the island by the League, even through the lockdown, and they visited often. The last thing I wanted was to come face to face with his mother. Emilia had warned me of her ire, and to be honest, I understood. All of the warnings she'd heeded Denzel, everything she'd said, her holding him back from journeying for a year— all of that was now vindicated within her mind. She might have thought that maybe if I hadn't come to Twinleaf at the start of the Circuit, she could have convinced him to stay.

God, I needed to see my dad again, or at least talk to him beyond a good morning and good night every day. My mom, too.

Hm. I wondered if they'd find Froslass by the end of the week in Coronet. Recovery operations were still going on there.

After gently lowering my best friend's hand back on the bed, I grabbed my phone and dialed Maylene's number.

"Hey. Sorry I took so long to call." The truth was, I'd gotten distracted yesterday trying to salvage my relationship from a pivot toward disaster. "Yesterday got busy. Oh, I hope I'm not bothering you, I know you're working hard."

"No, it's okay," she said, clearly nervous. "I'm sorry, I must have ruined your night with this stuff."

"No, actually. Um, it was me who fucked up, completely unrelated. I think I salvaged it, though. Barely." It had been awkward after. Very awkward, but at least she'd stayed and Talonflame had forgiven me already. Awkward was better than cold.

I must have been quiet longer than I thought, because Maylene spoke up again. "So, what's the— the verdict?"

"She's spiteful," I explained. "But give her a few days and she'll be back to normal. Plus, she's still willing to help with your dad and stuff, and you know, your aura was apparently better than your Lucario's, so we'll see what she thinks about Chase's. If it's the same she'll probably want to see you again. It's sort of therapeutic for her. Reminds her of what she's lost, but in a good way."

Maylene exhaled on the other end of the line as if a giant weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Thank the Legendaries. I thought I'd ruined things. It's good that she still wants my help; I can't be the one always taking from you both. I need to give back." I heard a bump of some sort on the end of the line, and then a soft scrape, as if she'd laid her head on the table. "Should I message her another apology or should I give her some space?"

"I'd say give her some space for now and message in a few days when she thinks better of you— I'll keep you up to date on the vibes." A moment of silence passed, and I leaned against the backrest of my chair with an analytical frown. "You really care about her, huh?"

Carefully, I listened to see if there would be any sudden movements. Instead, all I caught was the pausing of a breath; one held half a second longer than usual.

"Yeah, she's nice in her own way. Like, an 'it can't be helped, I'll help you' kind of way, but obviously I didn't know her before she died," she slowly spoke, attentively choosing each word. "I didn't ask before, but why're you so quiet?"

A hasty change of topic.

Man, I could read her like a book. This was going to suck.

"Oh, I'm just in Denzel's room right now." I smiled at his sleeping face. "I guess I unconsciously get quiet even if he can't wake up. Plus, my friends have been saying I speak too loudly sometimes 'cause I'm still not used to not hearing properly, so I'm tempering it. Anyway! How's work?"

"It's going pretty well! I got a really needed boost in my confidence and it looks like my Gym Trainers are coming to the idea that I'm in charge, so I won't have to do anything radical like fire people," Maylene said. "No news from my dad yet, but he's lost a lot of his leverage. Anyway, uh, if you want I—I should have the time to ha—hang out pretty soon this week-end for a few hours." Now she was the one who'd gotten all quiet. Maybe what I'd said had gotten to her and she was self-conscious.

"Sure, why not." If I was supposed to survive without Cece, I might as well give it a try soon and use the opportunity to go check on Bella and Night and spend the entire day away. "I was actually in need of someone to get me into shape again, so maybe we can make it a semi-regular thing." I was actually planning on going on a run with Honey after I was done here, just to get started on my own like old times. I silently chuckled and stared at my unconscious friend. He was the one who'd gotten me into it all those months ago north of Jubilife. "Though I doubt you'd have the time—"

"I'll make time!" she screamed. "I—I mean it should be fine, haha…"

"Woah, so passionate," I said with a teasing laugh. "Chase is like that! He'd get excited at any opportunity to get me to work out with him; I bet he'll be pissed I'm doing it with you now after I ignored him for so long."

"Okay— Arceus, I need to ask so many questions! But first if you want to get into shape we need to talk about your diet." Holy crap, I'd never heard her speak to quickly. "Then we can move on into what kind of muscles you want to develop— I'm assuming legs, 'cause trainer, duh! We actually have an indoor gym for people and Pokemon we can use underground, so we won't need to go somewhere else…"

Oh, boy. She was even more into this than Chase was, wasn't she?



Perhaps it was thinking of Denzel's own parents, which had me contact mine as soon as I was out of the hospital, or maybe it was getting a figurative cold splash of water on my face yesterday evening when I'd nearly done something I regret— manipulating the girl I love into doing what I wanted to her detriment. Maybe, more simply put, I just missed them and decided I'd had enough of avoiding them.

They'd been staying in a hotel a twenty-minute walk away from mine, this one a lot more humble and affordable. You could still see traces of the old architecture much of the actual, official League Building was made of. Cecilia had called it gothic, a style much more prevalent in Solante, the continent with Kalos, Paldea and Galar. They probably would have met me anywhere and gone out themselves, but I'd only messaged them once being in front of the place. Honey was with me, a boon of reassurance and kindness in case I blew up at them again, and as always, Mimi was there, around my neck this time. Honey also served to soothe my endless worries of a sudden, lethal attack: he would always react faster than them with Protect. Cassianus and he worked in shifts.

I winced when I saw them step out of the empty establishment, already prepared for the worst, but relaxation came easier than I thought when Electivire placed a hand on my shoulder and I saw something else—

My parents weren't angry about me blowing them off; they were genuinely happy to see me again.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A.
 
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Chapter 322 - Ozymandias
Togekiss/Princess (Hustle) - Pound, Sweet Kiss, Growl, Headbutt, Fairy Wind, Ancient Power, Extrasensory, Thunder Wave, Air Cutter, Wish, Psychic, Shadow Ball, Dazzling Gleam, Moonblast, Charge Beam, Air Slash, Mystical Fire, Tri-Attack, Nasty Plot, Defog

Jellicent/Buddy (Water Absorb) - Bubblebeam, Night Shade, Absorb, Water Sport, Water Pulse, Hex, Poison Sting, Mist, Acid Armor, Shadow Ball, Recover, Brine, Whirlpool, Hydro Pump, Water Spout, Acid, Will-O-Wisp, Ice Beam, Taunt, Scald, Boil, Freeze, Protect, Ice Blade, Rain Dance, Extrasensory

Electivire/Honey (Motor Drive) - Thundershock, Swift, Electric Swift, Thunder Punch, Charge, Leer, Ice Punch, Thunderbolt, Discharge, Fire Punch, Protect, Cross Chop, Thunder, Low-Kick, Screech, Radiant Leap, Static Shield, Bulldoze, Hammer Arm, Rain Dance, Lightning Bolt

Tangrowth/Angel (Chlorophyll) - Vine Whip, Absorb, Mega Drain, Stun Spore, Bind, Poison Powder, Leech Seed, Ancient Power, Power Whip, Knock Off, Sunny Day, Giga Drain, Sleep Powder, Solar Beam, Solar Blade, Brick Break, Ingrain, Bulldoze

Tyranitar/Sweetheart (Sand Stream) - Leer, Tackle, Horn Attack, Rock Throw, Payback, Stomping Tantrum, Smack Down, Bite, Rock Slide, Crunch, Sandstorm, Iron Defense, Dragon Pulse, Iron Head, Earthbreaker, Aerial Ace, Stone Edge, Dark Pulse, Rock Polish, Surf, Earthquake

Turtonator/Sunshine (Shell Armor) - Smog, Ember, Smokescreen, Incinerate, Iron Defense, Flamethrower, Shell Trap, Dragon Pulse, Bulldoze, Scorching Sands, Rock Tomb, Body Slam, Flash Cannon, Solar Beam, Rapid Spin, Scale Shot, Iron Tail, Focus Blast, Sunny Day, Fire Pillar, Flame Charge, Heat Crash, Fire Blast

Claydol (Levitate) - Mud Slap, Rock Tomb, Rapid Spin, Harden, Confusion, Psychic, Barrier, Imprison, Wide Guard, Light Screen, Reflect, Ancient Power, Teleport

Meltan/Mimi (???) - Not a battler

CHAPTER 322 - OZYMANDIAS

Seeing my parents together sure was an oddity. In my mind, they remained two separate entities never to be in the same room simultaneously. I was under no illusion that they'd get back together or some other nonsense; my father had never been one to forgive large slights. Sure, he'd look you in the eye, smile, shake your hand and overall be civil, but he'd never, ever forgive you. He'd lost more hair this year than the last five, it felt like. It usually had just been on his temples, but I'd seen it thin on the back of his head on the way to this bench right next to their hotel. As for my mom, she was hollow, still grieving from losing my grandmother to Galactic. It was mildly terrifying, how hollow she looked when she'd been so peppy and bubbly before. It was almost like staring into a mirror.

Dad's arm wrapped around my shoulder, and he pulled my head on his. "I hope you've been doing better, Grace." Hearing him speak like that was enough to have guilt tunnel through my skin and into my heart. "Your mother and I…"

"We missed you," she exhaled, grabbing one of my hands. "We know you've been through a lot, and we—" Dad glanced at her with a warning in his gaze. "It's okay if you don't want to tell us right now. We'll wait until you're ready."

The tightness within me slightly loosened. "Thanks. I missed you guys too." I gripped the side of the bench and forced a smile. It was the truth, I had wanted to see them again despite how we'd had an argument, but… "Sorry for yelling at you last time. I understand that you're my parents and you want to know what's going on with me."

Everything just felt so stiff. Like I was speaking to acquaintances I hadn't seen in a while, not the people who had brought me into this world. It saddened me greatly, weighed down on my soul like an anchor, to understand that things weren't supposed to be this way, yet to know that there was nothing to be done about it.

My father cleared his throat. "So, Sam and I, we were thinking about what comes next."

"Hm?" I didn't like the sound of that. My instincts were clamoring to get out of dodge like alarm bells. "What do you mean by that?"

A beat of silence passed. "Please don't worry, we won't actually force or pressure you into anything, kiddo," he said. "It's just that you won't be staying on this island forever, right?"

"Right…" I murmured, glancing at the passersby to distract myself. This late in the evening, there were more people than usual, but not that many. It was good enough to have a conversation of this nature in public. Not wanting to intrude unless I gave him a signal, Honey was currently engaged in some conversation with a Raichu a few dozen feet away. I didn't know what it was about, nor if the Raichu was trained or wild, but he kept glancing my way every few seconds.

My mother ran a hand through my hair, which felt nice enough. "We think it'd be good for you to stay home. Not for good, only for a while," she quickly specified. "Maybe see someone like Aliyah again; they have good therapists in Jubilife." Mom raised a finger, as if she'd expected a rejection. "You could come by to Twinleaf if you need to get away from all the noise in the city; I—I'm just about done finishing the paperwork to inherit the house." Her skin paled, in that moment, like even thinking about this was sickening her.

"We think it'd be good for you to get some routine back into your life," dad said with a saddened smile. "I've been looking at getting you some piano classes for the summer, maybe. Meet some new people."

I sighed.

We were just;

Not operating on the same wavelength. They were looking past me, and I past them.

But given everything that had happened—

Maybe it was a good idea. Not that a therapist would work; Aliyah had been the best the League could offer me and I doubted even she would be able to help me as I was now. Maybe I'd say yes anyway to get them off my back, but I wasn't sure.

"Can I think about it?" I asked.

Both of my parents became joy incarnate, in that very moment. Pressure bled away from their faces, leaving only the happiness that could only come from thinking your child was on the road to recovery.

Maybe I was. I was in a better spot than I was two, four, six days ago. It was always one step at a time. Aliyah had told me once, that recovery was not a straight line, but a tumultuous path full of twists and turns. That it was about the destination and the work you were willing to put in.

Yeah.

Yeah, I'd think about it.

"Can we hang out a little more?" I asked, suddenly feeling a little shy.

My mother knelt in front of me and held both of my hands in hers. "Honey, your dad and I would want nothing more than that."

Dad rubbed his chin. "You hungry, kiddo? What do you say we go grab a bite from Arlyle's? They've got one a few streets away."

I wasn't hungry, but I wasn't going to say no to those fries.

"Sure."



The week-end.

"You know," Gardenia said for what she felt was the thousandth time, "the next time you need me here, it'd be nice if you didn't text 'I NEED HELP' in all caps."

It was the middle of the night, and Maylene had basically summoned Gardenia to her Gym— accidentally, according to her. Normally, Gardenia would be sleeping at this hour, trying to get her three to four hours of rest before starting work again, but life had other plans. The grass type Gym Leader yawned as she lounged on the mat in her friend's bedroom, resting her head on her palm. Usually, Maylene would have said something about not putting her hand in front of her mouth, but the younger girl was currently busy rummaging through her closet. Her laptop sat in the corner of the room, half-closed and dimly lit.

"I never said you had to come over!" Maylene protested, looking deeper into her closet. "I thought you'd just call me."

In the corner of the bedroom, Lucario groaned and curled up into a ball. Gardenia figured there was no way he was going to sleep tonight, with how panicked his trainer was.

"I thought you needed help with your dad, not that you needed help to pick clothes for your… hang out."

"If it was an Oscar issue, I just would have called Cecilia— sorry, that sounds rude."

"No, no, I get it," Gardenia lied. It hurt a little, that her little sister wasn't relying on her any longer, but to be fair, she had failed to actually show up when it mattered and Cecilia Obel knew more about handling situations like these than she did. Gardenia frowned, realizing something. "Wait, Oscar?"

Maylene nodded, still facing her closet and relentlessly tapping an anxious foot against the floor. "Yeah. She doesn't call Clarence 'dad' either. I took that from her." She shrugged nonchalantly. Gardenia wasn't used to seeing her talk about her father without shrinking in fear; she had made a lot of progress quickly.

Maylene threw a slew of clothes back, all of them landing on the mat-covered ground that served as her bedding. First to go were the martial arts gis. She pulled out a white gi, its fabric soft and worn from countless training sessions. She hesitated for a moment, fingers tracing the familiar material, before throwing it aside. Gardenia internally sighed in relief; what a horrible choice that would have been. Next came a variety of tank tops and sleeveless shirts. Bold reds, deep blues, and stark blacks fluttered through the air, landing haphazardly on the floor. Then came the athletic shorts, the sport bras, the jogging and yoga pants, the t-shirts—

"I don't get it," Gardenia said. "Aren't you just doing sports stuff together? Just wear something other than your Gym Leader uniform so you can be more casual and call it a day." She waved a dismissive hand at Maylene, who glared at her.

"I need to pick something that makes me look good. Obviously, I don't know what that is." She ran a hand through her short, pink hair and bit her lip. "Just help me out? Sorry for making you panic, I just— I was a little overwhelmed."

Nia sighed. "I can't be mad at you for long," she said with a slight smile. It wasn't like she couldn't relate to this; she had been nervous about what to wear when meeting up with Candice for… at least a year and a half after they'd met, and she still fished for compliments all the time. Gardenia sat cross-legged and hummed, grabbing a pair of gray shorts off the ground. "What I said does still apply, though. You don't have to overthink it, unless you want to ask the kid out somewhere else after or before."

"N—no! I don't. This is something to help her, nothing more."

Gardenia tilted her head, happy to tease her. "But you want to look nice."

"I do! But I don't know— I look too much like a kid and I hate it! I mean, they…" she trailed off, and her cheeks reddened. She looked down at her feet, as if ashamed of herself.

Gardenia's gaze softened. That was a new one; Maylene had never complained about her figure before.

"C'mon, Maymay, you look great, and you are a kid. So are… they?" Gardenia wasn't really sure about what was going on, but her time as a Gym Trainer and Leader had taught her to go with the flow of things. "Where is this coming from, anyway? The times where Candice would bring this up, you usually said a bigger chest would be annoying because you move around so much and it'd get in the way." It wasn't unusual for a teenager or even young adults to worry about these things. Maylene just had never been that kind of teenager.

Granted, she'd never been in love with anyone else before. Grace Pastel was somewhat average, as far as things went. That Cecilia Obel girl had… grown up fast, which happened sometimes.

"And even if you don't get any bigger, it's not the end of the world," Gardenia added, thinking of Candice— who was obviously the most beautiful girl on the planet, and it wasn't even close. "And hey, I'm not saying looks don't matter for… relationships of a vague nature." She gestured at Maylene. When she realized what Gardenia had alluded to, she told her to shut up through clenched teeth. "Okay, okay! Anyway, they do, but not as much as what's in here." She pointed at her own heart. "And you've got a heart of gold, Maymay. How sweet you are is your strongest asset. I'm sure your friend will think you'll look good, anyway; who wouldn't?

Maylene groaned. "Ugh, you're right; I'm just feeling insecure, I guess. I haven't been thinking straight these past few days." When Gardenia barely managed to contain her snort, Maylene squinted at her. "What's up with you? You were angry at me and now you're laughing at me."

"Hey, I'm not laughing at…" wait, she was laughing at her. "Anyway, if this is just to help her, why go through all of this?" Gardenia asked. "You know, you never worried about stuff like this before."

Maylene stayed silent for a few seconds and had that flabbergasted look she sometimes pulled when she ran out of words. Gardenia was having way too much fun with this, but she couldn't push that hard. Better let her realize that she liked Grace on her own without her doing— and honestly, that idea was still so weird and foreign to her that it left a strange taste in her mouth, even after she'd let it percolate there for a few days. She didn't know Grace Pastel much, but what she did know should have had Maylene less than satisfied. Maybe she was looking at it wrong.

She'd kept it a secret, of course; normally she would have told Candice already, but she was… struggling with Craig's death.

Gardenia would have also laid it all on the table and told her about her feelings, had Craig not died and they both hadn't been swamped with work. There was only so much she could delay it by, but now wasn't the right time. Odds were, it'd just scare her off when what she needed was her closest friend, not to have to rethink and reframe all of their interactions since they'd known each other. All she could do right now was be there for her until she finished mourning, and then Gardenia could finally get the feelings she'd been carrying for years off her chest. She had waited for four years; she could wait a few more weeks.

Normally, she'd only act if the odds of success were ninety percent or higher, but screw it. It might ruin everything, or it might make her the happiest woman in the world. Either way, Gardenia was done wallowing in the self-pity of being in love with her straight best friend. A perfect opportunity with the highest chances of success would never come. She had to take matters into her own hands.

"Because… just because!" Maylene finally answered, threw her hands up and then jabbed a finger toward her. "Plus, you want to look good when you hang out with Candice, too! You always go the extra mile when you're with her outside of a work setting!"

Ouch. That was true enough, but in the most hilarious way possible. "'Guess you're right, Maymay, sorry about that. Here," Gardenia grabbed a blue top from the ground. "Wear this tank top— leave a little stomach exposed. That's always nice, and yours is great; your back, too. Wear the black yoga pants. Or I guess you could call them dark gray. They highlight your form nicely." She threw the clothes at Maylene, who caught them flawlessly, as always. Her reflexes were top notch. "There, you're all set. You don't need my help for underwear, do you? Though you know, if your friendship ever veers that way, I'm open to help—"

Maylene turned as red as a tomato. "Ugh, Nia! I've—I've told you a million times it's not like that!" she silently hissed, mindful of Lucario. "She has a girlfriend!"

"I'm just joking around." Gardenia snickered and went up to side-hug her friend, right before doubt began to creep in. Doubt at what if she was doing was okay. Grace had a girlfriend, one she was apparently very close with. She didn't know much of what had gone on in Coronet, yet it was evident both girls had gone through much with Maylene.

Was she a bad person for this?

Gardenia stared at the ceiling to think, pursing her lips as she debated her inner self. She didn't know enough about Grace or Cecilia to know if Maylene had a chance or not; she wasn't doing this with the goal of sinking their relationship, and to be honest, thinking about it a little longer, she remembered that both girls were supposed to leave the country in a few months, so her friend's odds were actually low. Chances were, the distance would turn this endeavor to a hopeless one, which meant that Maylene had to at least get a foot in the door and make this Grace girl notice her romantically before she left Sinnoh if she wanted this to be anything more than a passing summer crush.

Maylene had her work cut out for her, even if she didn't know it quite yet. Gardenia wanted to help more than she was, but going too fast might ruin things before they could take hold, and micromanaging a bunch of traumatized teenagers sounded like a bunch of work she couldn't deal with right now. Plus, getting involved involved would make her question her own actions even more.

It was just…

Gardenia knew what it was like, to pine for a girl with a hopeless crush— she'd known how that felt like for years. It hurt, even now. She could relate to what Maylene was going through, or what she was going to go through very soon. Gardenia knew Maymay well enough to understand that at her core, she preferred avoiding tough issues instead of tackling them head on, but it was only a matter of time until she realized her own feelings, anyway, and then the hurt would begin. It was why she was still pretending with this whole 'she's just my friend' shtick despite being emotionally smart enough to know better. She had blinded herself, hoisted her inner feelings onto a throne of lies, hoping it wouldn't collapse, hoping it would last forever.

Still, Gardenia decided there was nothing wrong with a little push. She watched Maylene hang her clothes back in her closet, humming a happy song to herself now that she knew what to wear. She couldn't have been more obvious if she hung up a sign spelling out 'I'm in love' on her back. Honestly it was a wonder the other girls hadn't figured this out already, with how often they saw or spoke to each other.

Ah, this is so confusing, she thought with a heavy breath. At the heart of it all, she just wanted to help her friend, the strangeness of the situation be damned. If it petered out or led to a preemptive rejection because Maylene couldn't be more obvious if she tried, then Gardenia would be a shoulder to cry on. Again.

"You know— what if I don't know what to say?" Maylene muttered as she closed the closet hidden in the wall.

"What?" Gardenia scoffed. "Don't you two text and call and stuff? There's gotta be a dynamic already established, right?"

"I mean, I guess? Everything feels kind of formal because I'm scared to overstep. I used to do it with Cecilia too, but she's a little angry at me at the moment and we just started talking again." Was that her way of reassuring herself that Grace was just another friend? Probably. "Anyway, it's not the same over the phone… don't look at me like that! We haven't been on our own since— well, since we got our hearing aids!"

"Ah, yes, the time where she asked if you wanted to get matching pink ones," Gardenia deadpanned. Not exactly a sign in and of itself, but it at least meant Grace considered they were close. "Wasn't that like slightly over a week ago? Just act natural."

Maylene's arms dropped limp to her side. "You don't get it."

"No, I do! You'll be nervous at the start, but hey, once you start talking to her about working out, you'll get into the groove of things and you'll be able to go with the flow."

Maylene's face went through a myriad of emotions, in that moment. She wanted to fight her, Gardenia knew. To go into every detail, as if they could plan everything she was going to say. In the end, she relented. "Yeah, that probably makes sense… wait, what if I talk too much and weird her out? Because I already talked to her about that stuff for way too long on the phone until she actually had to hang up and go see her parents. What if she gets bored of it, Nia?"

"I mean, she listened to it the first time over the phone, no? Did she sound bored then?"

Maylene fiddled her thumbs. "I don't think so? She always sounds super interested in stuff, I think, and she's really excited to get her body moving again."

"Then you'll be fine."

"…what if I make her work too hard on accident? My standards are way too high because I mainly work on myself and Pokemon…"

Legendaries have mercy on her soul. She wasn't even involved in any of this, and she was more mentally tired here than she'd been after work today. While Lucario snored, having finally fallen back asleep, Gardenia spent the next ten minutes reassuring her friend that things were going to be okay. That so long as she didn't overthink things, she'd live through tomorrow fine and hopefully have a great time. It felt good to see her be a normal kid and worry about crushes, for a change. After the shadow that Galactic had hung over Sinnoh, talks like this were welcomed.

Maylene quietly crawled to her laptop, typed a short sentence and started rhythmically clicking on the trackpad. "Thanks, Nia. Sorry for calling you over so late, I'll make it up to you somehow. You can give me some of your paperwork, if you want; if you give me the right info I'll fill it out for you."

"Nah, don't worry about it, just have a good time on your… whatever this is."

"It's a lesson. She's my student and I'm her gym coach." She sounded slightly miffed, just like every time Gardenia had tried to hint that maybe there was something more to this. "Alright, I'll call your Kadabra over; he must have gone downstairs to exchange knowledge with mine when he realized this would take long." Maylene slowly got up and tiptoed around Lucario. "Feel free to stay here in the meantime, I'll bring him."

So;

It hadn't been Gardenia's goal to look at what was on Maylene's laptop screen. She'd just gone to look out the window to get some fresh air. Veilstone's was noticeably worst than Eterna's, and Gardenia believed they should have started working on a green city program to solve some of their pollution issues, but one thing at a time—

Anyway, when she turned back around, all disappointed in the air quality, she noticed something in the corner of her eye, and it really wasn't her fault that Maylene hadn't put her laptop to sleep or turned it off. Gardenia had always been observant. You could put something at the edge of her peripheral vision for a split second and she'd be able to tell you what it was in detail nine times out of ten.

'How to know if you are gay'. There were a few tabs open of articles or blogs about this, along with a test that would probably ask really obvious questions with really obvious answers that really, only gay people in denial took in hopes of getting a different answer. Gardenia would know; she had been in the same position three weeks after meeting Candice and she realized that maybe she'd been looking at her lips and thinking of kissing her a little too much, let alone having her on her mind so much to the point that she started having weird domestic dreams about living together with her. Getting a home somewhere next to a boreal forest to combine both ice and grass, getting married, growing old together—

Three weeks. "Damn you, Candice. You had me wrapped around your finger so quickly and you didn't even know it," Gardenia whispered in the night.

Anyway…

The point was: Maylene wasn't completely clueless. She would most likely spend the next hour or so scouring through this, though Gardenia doubted her nerves would let her fall asleep right away anyway. It was only a matter of time until that domino fell, and once that began, the revelation would be sooner rather than later, as predicted. Gardenia didn't stare for long, deciding to act as if she hadn't seen anything.

Knowing Maylene, there was a way she'd remain in denial even after this. Gardenia would strike a conversation with her about it the next time they spoke to at least get that first hurdle out of the way.

When Maylene came back with Gardenia's Kadabra, they shared a short hug.

"Let me know how it goes, okay?" Gardenia said. "Keep me updated on this; I'm rooting for you."

Maylene scoffed. "Wha— okay I guess? You're being weird."

"No I'm not." Nia squeezed her shoulders. "Good luck, Maymay."



Maylene's Gym was a lot more active this week-end than before, which made sense considering they were going to be the first one to reopen. I could see them filtering through the lobby, sometimes carrying heavy cardboard boxes or transporting Pokemon to other areas of the gym. I'd been waiting for a few minutes for Maylene to get here, but she was late. Maylene was a busy person, and though she did have the next few hours free, normally she would have thrown herself into work anyway, so she was using this time just because I'd asked her to help. My phone rang with a message from Cece— a picture of Sweetheart having fun out of the League with Scizor looking annoyed at all the noise she was making and Talonflame flying over her. I'd handed her over for the day so she'd be able to do something other than stay in a Pokeball all afternoon. Her size made it difficult to accommodate her and have her out at all times like the others, so making time for her like this was something I'd wanted to do for a while.

My body shivered, and I hugged myself. It was a little cold— I'd dressed with working out in mind, not thinking about the fact that Gyms had air conditioning on during the summer. It was the worst on my legs and neck. I had tied my hair up into a ponytail so it wouldn't get in the way, so my nose was starting to get a little runny. There was a change of clothes in my bag (along with the rest of my team; Mimi was around my wrist, as always, content to observe until they fell asleep) because of the plan to see Bellatrix and Nightstalker after this; even so, it was a little too late to get changed when Maylene would get here any minute now.

I spent the next two minutes scrolling through my phone until she got here, peeking her head into the lobby from one of the hallways leading upstairs to her room and office. She sighed in relief to herself when she saw me, and then responded to my wave with a timid one of her own. Nervousness was plastered all over her when we walked up to each other. The way her eyes darted around, unable to stay fixated on one spot; her need to take a deep breath before meeting me; her uneven steps when she was usually more confident in her stride.

Hopefully this wasn't too much pressure on her. I didn't want to get in the way of her work.

"I'm so sorry, I was… busy," Maylene said. She wiped her hands on her yoga pants and then hid her stomach by crossing her arms. I could relate, as someone whose palms sweated often when I was nervous. "I hope I don't look weird or anything…"

"Hm?" I looked her up and down. Honestly, I'd expected her to be in her official Gym clothes, but this was kind of typical for the kind of activity we were going to do as well. "I mean, you look great like usual? You're rocking those clothes for sure, they look good on you." Honestly, I didn't think she'd show this much skin, but it genuinely did look nice.

Maylene beamed, making a little Dedenne-like squeak. She must have really liked compliments.

"And hey, just letting you know, I really appreciate you doing this, okay?" I wanted to reassure her that I didn't have any kind of insane expectations, or anything. "We can just hang out and have a good time. Really, I just wanna take my mind off things."

Maylene slowly nodded, digesting my words with a huge grin. "Cool, um, working out is great to do that. We should go then." A little nervous laugh escaped her. She was so much more at ease than moments ago.

Instead of going up the stairs this time, she led me down. The Gym was a lot less polished down in the lower floors. Paint was chipped here more often, and boxes of stuff littered the ground everywhere— the few ones that were open had anything from unopened packets of Pokemon food, to electrical wires to extra light bulbs. The lights here were a little dimmer than upstairs, but overall this wasn't that strange of a place. It was just surprising, because when I pictured a Gym, I pictured something pristine.

I glanced at Maylene, who was still smiling. "You know," I walked up to her level with my hands behind my back so we were side by side, then tilted my head at her, "I didn't know you had a thing for praise."

Maylene's soul jumped out of her skin. "W—what do you mean?"

I nudged her arm with my elbow a few times. "C'mon, don't play coy with me! I get it, you know." Plus, she must have not gotten praised much growing up with her dad, so it made sense. "I'll keep that in mind from now on."

"I mean, I won't stop you… do whatever you want." Maylene turned away from me.

I grinned. "Yeah, 'cause you like it; it's fine."

"...maybe I like it. But who wouldn't?!" she hastily protested.

"Did I ever say people wouldn't? I even said I got it!" My laugh reverberated through the basement, and Maylene was forced to admit defeat. She was a fun one to tease, but I couldn't go overboard with it, or I'd get too focused on 'winning' the conversation instead of having fun. "Woah, look at that."

The space opened up into a vast chamber, its ceiling high enough to make me forget I was underground. Rows of equipment, some familiar and others I'd never seen before, filled the area. Iron weights, punching bags, treadmills, stationary bikes… there really was a lot here. The floor was a patchwork of different surfaces—rubber mats, grippy tiles that fit together like a jigsaw puzzle and smooth concrete.

"What're you doing? C'mon, it's just a gym," Maylene said. She dragged me over by the wrist, then froze and took her hand away as if she'd just touched a stove. "Uh, anyway, usually this place would be filled up around the mornings or in the evening, but it's been unused since the bombings for obvious reasons." She led me to a small expanse of soft mats. "We should have the whole place to ourselves this afternoon."

"Great! So, how do we start?" My eyes wandered toward the treadmills, which were nearby—

"No, before doing anything, you've got to stretch. It's important; always stretch before doing any strenuous activities."

"Right, sorry. I guess I thought that was, like, optional."

My friend stared at me like one would a helpless child. "Oh, boy…"

"I'm not— I'm not stupid! I just needed a little refresher, that's all." Legendaries, was there anything more embarrassing than looking clueless in front of an expert? "I get it…"

"No you don't. First and foremost, stretching helps to increase blood flow to your muscles so you warm them up and prepare them for your workout. You reduce the risk of injury by making your muscles more flexible and less prone to straining and tearing…" Maylene continued rambling about the importance of stretching for at least thirty seconds until she stopped. "Why're you making that face at me? Did— did I bore you? I'm sorry."

Ah. Most likely, it looked like I'd been studying her.

I held my hands up. "Not at all! I like listening to people talk about what they're passionate about. It's really cute and it lets me pick their brain a little. You wouldn't believe how many times I've had to listen to my friends rant." I started counting on my fingers. "There's Emi with contests, Pauline with fashion, Denzel with streaming and celebrities… Maylene?" The Gym Leader had turned away from me and was starting to heave and muttering to herself. "Are you okay?" I went to touch her shoulder—

"I'mperfectlyfine!" She spun and clapped her hands, though her face was a little red. "Anyway, stretching! Since today we'll be focusing on legs, we'll do leg stretches."

Maylene directed me to sit on the mats, and I followed her instructions. Maylene introduced me to something called sitting hamstring stretches, demonstrating in front of me. After sitting, she extended her right leg forward, flexed her foot and slowly bent at the hips, reaching towards her toes until her hands easily touched them. Even if her back was bent forward, it remained completely straight, and she took a series of deep breaths as she moved. After holding the position for thirty seconds, she switched legs, repeating the motion with the same careful precision. There was a certain grace to her movements. The subtle tension beneath her skin coming from her lean muscles exerting themselves; she might not look it at first glance, but she was really fit if you looked a little deeper. It was kind of like seeing a gymnast at work.

"You're really flexible," I noted.

"You've got to be, if you want to fight," she said, as if this was as easy as breathing to her. "Oscar used to say my body had to flow like water. He's a shit parent, but I think that advice was sound— anyway, you start as well."

It was a lot more difficult than it looked. No matter how much I pushed, my back wouldn't bend as much as Maylene's, and it felt like someone was pulling the tendons out of my thighs. When I said I'd be tapping out, Maylene came over and kept her hand on my back to push me.

"Ow, ow, ow."

Maylene scoffed. "I'm not pushing that much; don't be a baby. Just hold a little longer—"

She cut herself off, for some reason. After a while, I spoke up again. "Hasn't it been thirty seconds?"

"Y—yeah. Switch legs." I heard her audibly swallow. Was she nervous again? I hadn't said anything odd.

After those stretches, we moved on standing hamstring stretches, which were even harder somehow, but Maylene said it was better to ramp them up. Luckily, that was it for my thighs, because they were already on fire; somehow, sweat was already accumulating on my skin, and I hadn't even started to do anything workout related yet! The next set was easier and focused on my lower leg. Maylene had me push against a wall and fully extend my leg until I felt a pull in my calves. This pose, she had me hold for a full minute for each leg.

"There, see? That wasn't that bad!" she exclaimed with a triumphant smile. "You did pretty okay, for a first timer."

"My legs already hurt a little…" I whined a little more than what was necessary.

"That's good; that's what makes you feel alive, right? Now, the actual warmup isn't done. You've got to do a little cardio before we get into the meat of things. You were looking at the treadmills earlier, so set up a run for ten minutes. Here, I'll do one with you." Again, she was speaking twice as fast as usual. She reminded me a little of myself when I'd dump all my knowledge about the ways Gym Leaders fought after studying them. "Oh, drink water first, though. I assume you've brought some?"

"Mhm." Bending over, I pulled the water out of my bag and started drinking.



Maylene couldn't stand to look at Grace drink water.

Her eyes kept gravitating somewhere they shouldn't have because Gardenia put some weird ideas in her head yesterday. At least she'd come in clutch, and thanks to her Grace had told Maylene she looked great. Great! She was on cloud nine right now; this would be able to sustain her all day tomorrow when she got back to work. She was cute! Cute! And she looked great, and was cute, and great, and cute, and everything was going well! So well it was hard not to smile all the time!

"So do I just go on the treadmill now, or?" Her friend (and there was nothing more than that) had come over wearing gym shorts she had bought the day prior, according to a message she'd sent, and she was wearing another one of her simple t-shirts that was more baggy than not. It was so large in fact that it basically covered her shorts. Maylene figured that maybe that was for the best for her soundness of mind, even if Grace looked really good in anything. It was one of her merch samples with her Togekiss flying into the sky on it; a little corny, but in an endearing way. Maylene knew she missed her starter, and this was a way to feel closer to her until tomorrow when she'd get her back.

The Gym Leader decided to turn away from Grace for the safety of her own mind, but it'd be impolite not to look at someone who was talking to you, or at least in their direction. Maylene had tried her best to keep her eyes from wandering, which meant that ninety percent of the time she was looking at random stuff around Grace instead of at her. She'd allowed herself to slip when she'd helped her stretch, but had no idea necks could be that…

That what?

Maylene internally shook her head. This was Gardenia's fault. "S—sure." She averted her gaze again, sheepishly scratching the back of her head. "Keep it at a light jog for now, you don't want to exhaust yourself."

Grace gave her a lazy thumbs up reminiscent of her Electivire. "Sure thing."

Both girls got started on their treadmills, with Maylene deciding to go at a sprint, which was her warm up. Plus, going fast would help clear her head from the thoughts that shouldn't be there. The girl shut her eyes, closing herself off to the world. It was only the blood pumping in her legs, the sound of the treadmill and her feet stomping on the ground every split second.

It wasn't just because of Gardenia.

Yesterday, Maylene had discovered she was most likely some shade of gay. She'd never thought about liking people until she'd met—

Better not finish that line of thought.

Anyway, she found girls attractive, which was what gay meant. Not any girls in particular, just girls in general, of course. Maylene had believed that maybe there'd be some nuance to it or that every girl felt the same way, but apparently not. This was something she'd never felt with boys, but then again she'd never had friends her age until now, so maybe it'd be different at some point. Maylene had gone to sleep with that knowledge in her head and hadn't even told anyone yet, not even Lucario. What was the point, anyway? It wasn't like it would lead to anything. It wasn't like it mattered; she could just keep going as she was now and be happy with what she had. It was important not to get greedy.

Breathe in, breathe out; Maylene was a machine who rarely got physically tired. She was on top of the world right now, and she would remain so as long as she didn't let her mind wander. As long as she kept her eyes shut and didn't look to her left for too long. As long as she told herself that this was nothing more than a desperate need for friendship with someone her age she'd lacked her entire life.

Once the ten minutes ran out, Maylene opened herself up to the world again. The treadmills beeped continuously, and they slowed down progressively until they came to a stop over the course of another two minutes.

"How was it?" Maylene asked.

"I'm okay," she heaved, leaning against her knees. "That was the warm up, though?"

Maylene couldn't help but admire her for trying so hard when she was so weak and fragile… like glass, really. Scarred all over, even if you ignored that half her body was burned. Sure, there was her arm from the raid, but Maylene had recently discovered one on her back— a Paras bite, Grace had nonchalantly called it. It made Maylene want to protect her.

"Yeah, it was." Her throat felt dry no matter how much water Maylene drank. "Ready for the next thing? We're doing squats next."

"Whaaat? Don't I get a break?" she pleaded in that sweet, higher pitched voice.

"You can get a break after the leg press." Maylene pointed behind her with her thumb. "That's after the squats, now come on. I assume you know what those are like."

Grace pouted; it was difficult not to be enthralled by the way her lips moved. She did a lot of stuff with her lips, come to think of it; Grace was a very expressive person. Pouting, smiling, lip-biting, pursing, tightening— really, you'd think that she'd run out of ways to move them, but Maylene was pretty sure she got to see a new one every time they spoke. Today it had been the hint of a smirk when she had complained about her legs hurting. One new one was good; Maylene didn't need to covet for any more today, or she'd get greedy.

Don't get greedy.



As it turned out, my squatting form was awful. I had no idea why until Maylene told me I had to keep my chest high and my heels on the ground, and it instantly became twice as difficult. Luckily, she was going to go easy on me after those because it was important not to go too hard for my first time in the gym, so I was looking forward to that. My legs already felt like they were on fire and I was dripping with sweat. Not only that, but every breath of air I took made my lungs feel like they were on fire by the end of my sets. I was a little ashamed, but hey, this was what I'd come here to do and my stamina would slowly improve the more we did this.

Having Maylene here was a godsend, really. She was here to tell me when I messed up, but she also made the experience a lot of fun; if she hadn't been there I'd probably either have given up or fucked up with the machines, somehow. To help me, she put a moderate amount of weight on the leg press and then I finally got my break. I was lying flat against the mats where we'd stretched, and she stood a little ways away from me.

"You know," I exhaled. With each breath, I sucked in air like every breath would be my last. "Going to the gym is tough, but I kind of get it."

"Hmhm. It's a lot of fun, and it can make you feel like you're progressing toward a personal goal you set. Or, you know, you can push yourself to vent out your frustrations." Maylene crossed her arms, but not shyly like she'd done earlier in the day, covering up her stomach. "Usually I'd blast a motivational speech in my headphones or something."

"Motivational speech?"

"Yeah… like those videos online of people telling you that you can achieve your goals or to keep pushing. It's a little embarrassing." Her voice was quiet, and she blushed a little.

I pushed myself up to sit. "Not at all. If that's what got you through your childhood, then I'm glad you listened to those. You know," my head tilted to the side, "I believe in fate and stories stuff." Talking about stories with her wasn't something I felt comfortable with, especially since that part of me had hurt her so much. I still felt guilty over that, during sleepless nights where all I had for company were my thoughts. I didn't feel like I deserved forgiveness, but I was done arguing about it. "If you hadn't, maybe we wouldn't have met. It's like that with everyone I know; every little action they took in their lives led them to this, the specific combination of things they needed to do to meet me and save the world. It's a little mind-boggling, really—" I blinked, then covered my mouth. "Sorry, I'm rambling. I just think the sum of the little things that make the world is beautiful, I guess."

"You don't have to hold yourself back, you know? You can just speak your mind with me," Maylene said.

"I know. Just not… that."

She squinted at me with suspicion and slowly made her way toward me. The Gym Leader sat in front of me cross-legged, and suddenly I felt very, very small.

"You're feeling guilty again, aren't you? About our Gym Battle."

I couldn't bear to look at her in the face at times like these. "I know you've forgiven me and that we're friends, I just haven't forgiven myself."

"How long until you do?"

"I don't know. I just know I won't until it feels right, and I don't know when that moment will come," I muttered, tapping the floor with a finger. It was worse now that I'd gotten confirmation from seeing Virtuous help Maylene directly. I could have had an effect.

Maylene grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight. "I'll stay by your side until you do. And if it takes longer than a few months, I'll call every day when you… leave." Pain flashed across her face for a moment. "Maybe I'll take a sabbatical when Sinnoh's back on its feet for like a month. I'm sure Cynth can find some work for me to do there, even if I'd need to get diplomatically trained. The point is, I won't give it a rest until you feel like you have nothing to atone for."

Smiling, I glanced up at her. "Thanks. Sorry for souring the mood."

"I mean, I was gonna ask you what kind of videos you look at, but this was okay, too," she laughed. "You have… soft hands. Can I say that?"

"Why wouldn't you? I've gotten a bunch of compliments over them lately, it's pretty sweet." Our fingers were interlocked; I hoped she didn't mind the sweat too much. Actually, I probably smelled terrible right now. Her hands were a little bigger than mine. "Yours are kind of coarse, but I like it. Must be from using them so much; it's an interesting texture."

She snorted. "An interesting texture? Who talks like that?"

"It's not weird! I'm sure people say that sometimes."

"Yeah. Just you, you dork." Then, as if Maylene had realized something, she went quiet and a shadow began to loom over her face. "I think that's the end of your break." She stood up, and I let go of her hand. "Let's get you started on the second half. I'm gonna go pick up some dumbbells, and you're going to do lunges."

"Huh."

For some reason, from this point onward, Maylene looked a little restrained. She gave short answers for my questions, not sounding anywhere as passionate as she had minutes ago, and when I tried to steer the conversation away from gym stuff to see if that was the problem, she got even worse. It was odd, considering I thought things had been going really well before; we'd had a fun day and for a little bit, things had been so much lighter. Maylene had adjusted to post-Galactic life so quickly, and I had let myself get swept up by her inner strength. It had been… mindless fun. Something I couldn't experience with anyone else, as things stood right now.

So why? Why had she closed herself off and deprived me of that?

The question had frustrated me enough by the end of our session, while we took a bit of a break on the mats, I was willing to throw one final wrench into her plans to just get back into her shell. Sure, every muscle in my body was aching (somehow, focusing on legs had made even my arms hurt), but it was going to be a joke, anyway.

Not a serious attempt at sparring.

"Hey, check this out." The corner of my lip stretched into a smirk, and I put my hands up. I threw a jab in the air— "Ow, ow, my arm. Ugh." My left bicep throbbed a little, pulsating with pain.

Maylene chuckled. "What's with you?"

"Hey, I made you laugh. C'mon, let's spar!" I kicked forward so clumsily than Maylene laughed again at the fact that I nearly fell over. "Blegh. My legs feel like jelly."

"You're silly, you know that?" she said with a sigh. "It's kind of a new side to you."

"Believe it or not, I used to be a lot like this; I just grew up this year, I guess." That was for obvious reasons. "You kind of bring it out of me." That, and I wanted to cheer her up again. More jabs, this time slower so I didn't accidentally pull something. "So are you gonna fight me, or not? Show me what you got."

Maylene pondered for a moment;

She put her hands up. "I'm not gonna go easy on you."

I froze up. "W—wait, what?"

"Three, two—"

"What?!"

"One."

Maylene blurred forward—



Her form was so clumsy it looped back to kind of being adorable. She was wide open, hadn't centered herself and her hands weren't actually covering her face. Was Maylene a little unfair, moving so quickly she'd barely have time to react? Yes, maybe. Her reaction was priceless, though. The way her face slowly moved from smugness to disbelief, then how her hands moved to protect her face. The human body was easy to provoke like that; it wanted to protect the brain above all. Maylene wasn't actually going to hurt her, she'd just wanted to scare her a tiny bit and knock her down. Instead, she swept Grace's feet—

Huh. The grip on her soles felt wrong. Maylene continued sliding a little more than she was used to, and it was then that she remembered these mats were the usual commercial stuff gyms usually bought, not the tailor-made ones that covered the Veilstone Gym's training rooms. She tripped, but she managed to catch herself before she could actually fall on Grace.

Maylene was still on top of her, though. She was now hovering over her friend. Her arms were extended, palms pressed firmly into the ground on either side of the girl's head beneath her.

"Crap," Grace groaned. "Maylene, are you okay?"

"Am I okay? Are you—"

Her breath caught in her throat.

Power over your own mind was never eternal; all misapprehensions of this scale were eventually bound to disintegrate into dust, either through your own reasoning, by getting dragged into reality or a mixture of both.

Maylene had tried.

She'd tried so hard. But there came a moment where one could no longer keep spinning a web of lies they wrapped themselves in; one where delusion would crumble apart from the tiniest moment like an avalanche started by a single pebble. Here, with Grace below Maylene, her golden hair splayed out around her head, radiating like the sun's corona; here, where her pale, sweaty skin and her freckles glittered under the ceiling lights; here, where she panted and stared up at her with her beautiful green eyes; here, where Maylene was close enough to catch her intoxicating smell.

Here, where she had asked Maylene if she was okay after she'd been the one to risk hurting her on accident.

In this single instant;

The grand facade Maylene had built, convincing herself she felt nothing, lay in broken fragments shattered beneath her feet. Every protective layer of this cocoon she had weaved around herself collapsed with but a single thought that spread within her mind like a drop of dark ink in water. A deep longing from far within that she had desperately buried within the deepest reaches of her mind and tried to keep under lock and key.

It hadn't been enough. All of that, undone by one mistake; one fraying notion that would both brighten and darken her world.

Ah, I want to kiss her.

This moment; it was perfect. Too perfect, and that made Maylene want to rip her heart out and beat it up for having a mind of its own. With this revelation came clarity. The truth now stood stark and undeniable. Every lie she had told, every facade she had upheld, every thought she had interrupted, unraveled in an instant. That feeling she'd had when looking at Grace and Cecilia had been jealousy at what they had. The constant need to look at her, the anxiety, the yearning, the dreams, the way she loved her so much that it fucking hurt.

It was all out there for her to see. No longer could she pull the wool over her eyes and ignore the obvious.

And with that clarity came the pain, because it was hopeless. Unrequited love that gnawed at your heart, leaving her hollow inside. Where every interaction would be laced with the sting of impossibility, and yet, she knew she would still cherish those moments, even if they led to nowhere. This pain, it was relentless, it was excruciating, it was agony.

It was love.

"Maylene?" Grace asked. She was frowning, now.

"Sorry," she said, feeling strangely calm. Her skin was tingling with warmth and cold. It was as if an hour had passed, yet it had only been seconds. "I gotta go to the bathroom."

Grace didn't say anything, so Maylene took that as her cue to leave.

She wanted to run.

Why did it have to be her?



The pace of her steps quickened the further away she got from me. My back lay against the ground, and I stared up at the bright, fluorescent lights on the gym's ceiling. If you focused and let it get really quiet, you could hear the ventilation chugging along in pipes right above the room.

I hadn't stopped her from leaving. Couldn't stop her. I'd been blind to it until now; the fact that she liked me, and not Cece. With the way she looked at me, things were undeniable. I'd only seen Cecilia stare at me that way, and for a moment I thought she'd actually go for it and I'd need to stop her.

Why?

Why, why, why, why why, why, why? Why me? I wasn't— I wasn't right for her— the timeline— I didn't embody virtue— this couldn't be real— it didn't make any sense— it wasn't supposed to be this way

Maybe I had misread things?

No. No, I had not.

I exhaled, letting my hands cover my face. "What the hell…?"

I just couldn't make sense of it. The pieces didn't fit right. Even if she'd forgiven me for what I'd done during our Gym Battle, I had murdered dozens in front of her, thrown the entire world under the bus just to get my daughter closure, and if it hadn't been for her, I might have done so much worse and she knew it. I was just a sick, sick person who got lucky Cecilia even bothered to look her way. Who was lucky she'd even gotten another chance.

My eyes were tearing up. Sniffling, I slowly rose to the ground and stared around the empty gym with a vapid, empty feeling inside of me. When had things grown so complicated? Since when had she felt this way? It couldn't be before Coronet. Maybe after? During? No, that felt too soon. Things would just be so much easier if she thought of me as a friend instead of this.

To be honest, it'd be easier to pretend not to have noticed anything. To act clueless and greet her with a smile when she came back as if nothing had happened. She'd probably go along with it, too. It just wouldn't be fair to her, would it? I'd be using her. A finger hovered over my metallic bracelet, but I decided otherwise. None of my Pokemon would be able to help me with this.

What an unmitigated disaster.

"What do I even do?"

Talk to her right when she came back and let her down gently? But then she'd take her distance from me, just like when Louis had gone off on his own after realizing he'd had no chance of rekindling things with Cecilia, and it took months for us to actually be friends again. Cece would be leaving after Justin's funeral, and if I couldn't depend on her and Maylene was also not an option, then—

I wasn't going to survive without some major pain, even if I went back to my dad's.

Arceus damn it, what was I going to tell Cece? I had to tell her; it wouldn't be right to keep this hidden.

There were no clean options, nothing that would leave everyone unscathed and allow us to go back to how things were before. It was all different shades of how selfish I really was. One had to be, to not want to reject a girl she didn't love back romantically just for her own well-being.



Maylene barely made it back in time to her room before aura started whipping up around her like a storm. Her body felt tight. Untempered. Tears began to stream down her face and wouldn't stop. She curled up in a ball, rocking herself back and forth as the cold blue light encompassed more and more of the room, lashing out at anything it touched. Like the crack of a whip, sparks and arcs of blue energy flew out in all directions. Each strike left a faint, smoldering mark on the walls and furniture, as if the room itself was being etched with her pain.

She recalled her lessons; the many times she'd had to calm herself down from exploding at work because of how overwhelmed she got. Maylene took a few deep breaths, muttering assuring words to herself. She couldn't close her eyes, not when Grace breathless below her was still imprinted on her mind. Little by little, Maylene's aura receded within her. Her breathing steadied, her sobbing grew more controlled, and at last, her heart stopped beating against her chest like a prisoner trying to escape by breaking through their cell.

It wasn't fully contained; it still coated every inch of her skin, but it'd be enough to let people touch her, and that meant it was enough to grab a phone without breaking it, at least. Immense guilt wracked her when she glanced at Cecilia's contact information— more blue flames burst from her hand and cracked the center of her phone screen. Biting on her tongue to focus, Maylene called Gardenia for help.

Help with what, she didn't know. Maybe all she wanted were reassuring words that everything was going to be okay.

It took two calls for her friend to answer. On the other end of the line, Maylene could hear a bunch of people talking. Gardenia must have been in a meeting, but she'd answered the phone anyway, and thank Arceus, because Maylene couldn't stop herself from saying it.

"Nia…" she quietly sobbed. "I think I'm in love."

"Oh. Uh, wait a sec," Nia whispered Maylene heard a chair rasp against the ground. "If you'll excuse me, I have to make myself scarce," she spoke, louder this time. "Yes, yes, I know— It's a family emergency! Roland, you keep things running around here, I don't know how long I'll be gone. Arceus, don't be an ass. Five minutes. Ten!" As soon as a door closed, Gardenia sighed. "Yes. What happened, Maymay?"

What even had happened, in truth? What had made her have this thought, this malignance that had spread so fast it now encompassed every inch of her consciousness?

"I—I don't know, we were just… having fun and then I saw her. Really saw her. And now I just know that I love her, and it hurts, and I can't handle this." She clenched at her heart through her shirt. It was fluttering, confused as to if she should be happy or sad. "I ha—have no chance; it's utterly doomed."

Another door closed; keys jingled as Gardenia locked it shut. "Okay, now breathe, alright? I know it's hard, but you need to calm down and take a deep breath for me. Come on." The Gym Leader did so too, as if to guide Maylene through it. "Good job. Now, this is important. Did you tell her anything?"

"Wha— of course not!" She wanted to scream it out into the world, to tell her so desperately, but she wasn't going to ruin things. Maylene sniffled and wiped her eyes with her arm. "I don't think she knows."

"Can you describe the moment for me a little bit, if it isn't too hard?"

"Okay. Okay, uh, I was," a hiccup interrupted her, "She goaded me to spar with her, 'cause I think she knew I was feeling down. I held her hand before then, and I just— it was so right, but it also wasn't, so I stopped myself and kept my distance the rest of the work out." Maylene couldn't break her promise to Cecilia, especially when she'd been forgiven and they were talking again. Plus, it was just… getting in-between them wasn't something a good person would do, nor did she want to. "Anyway, the mats were wrong and I was running on auto-pilot, so I fell on top of her, and it was like the most beautiful sight I've ever seen, and she immediately worried about me, and—"

She clenched at her phone with a groan, suddenly wishing she had some tissues.

Gardenia whistled. "Oh, you fell for her harder than I thought—"

"Than you thought?!" Maylene's mouth gaped for a split-second, and she shivered. "You knew about this?"

"Maymay, of course I know. I've known since the day your dad came over and I saw you staring longingly at her and her girlfriend. At the time, I just thought it was a crush, not… all of this. I'm sorry for not telling you, I thought it'd be better if you figured it out on your own."

"I'd rather not have figured it out at all," Maylene moaned. "I probably knew, deep down. It was just easier to pretend it wasn't even there, because now it— now I know that I'm way in over my head." A short silence sunk in, and Maylene finally reined in her aura for good. "Nia?"

"Remind me again, how long were you on top of her and making eyes at her?"

Maylene pondered it for a moment, and the longer she thought about it, the more she realized it had been a long time. Ten seconds, maybe? Twenty? "Between ten and twenty seconds?"

"Shit."

"Do you think she knows?" Panic surged within her, turning her breaths shallow, and her leg anxiously bounced. She decided to stand up and pace around the room to distract herself, walking around her kitchen island. "She doesn't know, right? Right?!"

"Maybe? Let's look at this logically. She definitely didn't know until today, or she wouldn't have hung out with you and spoken to you that much when she already has a girlfriend, unless they have something like an open relationship or are poly or something, but I mean there's no way to actually know that. They haven't shown any signs of this, so let's just assume they're like an average couple."

Maylene nodded along, though she had no idea what the hell any of that meant. She was a lot more preoccupied with figuring out if she'd ruined things with Grace and Cecilia right now.

"If she knows, I'm sorry Maymay, but it's probably over? If she doesn't, you'll know because she'll probably act like nothing happened— you'd have to have to be insane to be that dense, but if she hadn't figured it out before now, then maybe it's possible." Maylene heard Gardenia tap something against her desk. "If she doesn't know, then the question is, what are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what is your goal with this?" Gardenia's tone was a little stern, and she put emphasis on each word. Maylene knew why— she had known exactly what she'd meant, yet had acted like she hadn't because the question was difficult to answer. "I know what you're going through. I've been doing this song and dance with Candice for years— though she only had a one-sided crush, she wasn't actually dating anyone— the point is, if you want to give up, you'll need to take your distance. It'll be more painful in the short term, but better for your long term mental health. Think of it like ripping off a band-aid."

Even thinking about it was making her nauseous. "Do I have a choice? I mean, I have no chance— and I don't want to be a homewrecker. That's not who I am. So logically, I should…"

Yes, she should give up. Maylene needed to send Grace on her way and distance herself from her. Work would be a convenient excuse; she would probably throw herself into her Gym and work longer shifts anyway to distract herself from the pain, so it wouldn't even be a lie.

So she needed to.

She needed to…

Maylene winced, collapsed on her couch and screamed in a pillow.

"You don't want to," Gardenia guessed correctly. It was hopeless, it was meaningless, but she still couldn't give up. "It's going to hurt. It's going to feel like someone has reached into your ribcage and is crushing your heart," she warned in a grave tone. "I won't lie, the odds aren't in your favor, but if you really want to give this a go, all you can do now is act like your usual self, stay restrained no matter what you want to say or do to her, and wait for an opportunity. Play the long game like I did. Not that you have to wait for Cecilia to die, of course! That's not at all what I meant…"

"An opportunity for what?" She was genuinely asking, this time. "I don't want them to break up. They'd never be the same again and I'd feel at fault anyway."

Gardenia sighed. "Oh boy, this is complicated. Okay, then irrelevant of all of that, you've got to at least make Grace notice you as like, an option, and it has to be before she leaves. Plant a seed in her mind, so to speak."

"How do I do that? I already told Cecilia I would back off…"

Gardenia was seized by a wild coughing fit. "Excuse me?"

"I think Cecilia knew before me." Thinking back, it would explain a lot of her actions. The question was, why hadn't she gotten more angry at her? Why was she even speaking to her? The drama with her Hydreigon would have been the perfect opportunity to poison the well and make sure Grace would keep her distance. Maybe she was just that good of a person, unable to cut Maylene off in her hour of need even if she'd be able to do it with a single word. "I told her I wouldn't get too close."

"...Maymay, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?"



Euuuuuuuuugh.

This sucked. I was both physically and emotionally exhausted. My head throbbed with a nascent headache, pounding against the walls of my skull.

I checked my phone again, noticing it had been twenty minutes since Maylene had left. Part of me wanted to run off, but that was probably the worst thing to do, at the moment. Instead, I waited in the gym, looking around at the machines to distract myself from the sinking pit in my stomach.

"If she isn't back in another ten minutes, I'll try to find her," I whispered to myself. There was no way that bathroom excuse was real; she was most likely in her office or room. I crouched next to an inclined platform of gleaming metal and thick padding Maylene had called a chest press and pressed my face into my hands. "What a mess."

It'd be another six minutes until Maylene was back. I didn't dare to look her in the face, not when I knew. Instead, my eyes fixated on the ground, where her feet shuffled uncomfortably from side to side.

"Sorry I dipped for so long," Maylene muttered. "I had to call Gardenia because of work stuff."

I was too drained to try to figure out if that was a lie or not. "It's alright. I needed rest anyway because my legs still hurt."

"They're going to hurt a lot longer than this, trust me." She cleared her throat, grabbing her own wrist with a hand in a self-soothing motion to close herself off. "I probably have to get back to work; we were together longer than planned anyway and I have a lot of stuff to catch up on, so…"

Thank God. This place was so suffocating now when it had felt so liberating earlier. "Yeah. Thanks for the help."

"You okay?"

I did my best not to freeze up and forced myself to look her in the eye. "Yeah! Don't worry about me. I learned a lot today; it was great."

"I'd— I'd walk you out, but I need to clean up here first. Put the dumbbells back in place and all of that." She rubbed the back of her neck and glanced away. "I'll text you later."

"Yep. Talk to you later." I grabbed my bag as calmly as possible. "Uh, do you guys have showers here, actually? So I can wash up and change."

"Yeah, just go back down the hallway and turn immediately to the left; they should be empty," she quietly said.

I took a step forward—

If I was going to tell her no, now was the time.

It had to be now.

Do it.

I pivoted on my heel.

"Maylene?"

She stared back at me. "Hm?"

"I can't—" I can't reciprocate your feelings. I don't like you like that, I'm sorry. Say it! "—wait to do this again."

A timid smile stretched across her lips, followed by a relieved sigh. "Thanks. Me— me too."

I left and opted to go shower at a Pokemon Center instead; this place was doubly unbearable now.

Fuck me.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A.
 
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Chapter 323 - Turning Point V
Togekiss/Princess (Hustle) - Pound, Sweet Kiss, Growl, Headbutt, Fairy Wind, Ancient Power, Extrasensory, Thunder Wave, Air Cutter, Wish, Psychic, Shadow Ball, Dazzling Gleam, Moonblast, Charge Beam, Air Slash, Mystical Fire, Tri-Attack, Nasty Plot, Defog

Jellicent/Buddy (Water Absorb) - Bubblebeam, Night Shade, Absorb, Water Sport, Water Pulse, Hex, Poison Sting, Mist, Acid Armor, Shadow Ball, Recover, Brine, Whirlpool, Hydro Pump, Water Spout, Acid, Will-O-Wisp, Ice Beam, Taunt, Scald, Boil, Freeze, Protect, Ice Blade, Rain Dance, Extrasensory

Electivire/Honey (Motor Drive) - Thundershock, Swift, Electric Swift, Thunder Punch, Charge, Leer, Ice Punch, Thunderbolt, Discharge, Fire Punch, Protect, Cross Chop, Thunder, Low-Kick, Screech, Radiant Leap, Static Shield, Bulldoze, Hammer Arm, Rain Dance, Lightning Bolt

Tangrowth/Angel (Chlorophyll) - Vine Whip, Absorb, Mega Drain, Stun Spore, Bind, Poison Powder, Leech Seed, Ancient Power, Power Whip, Knock Off, Sunny Day, Giga Drain, Sleep Powder, Solar Beam, Solar Blade, Brick Break, Ingrain, Bulldoze

Tyranitar/Sweetheart (Sand Stream) - Leer, Tackle, Horn Attack, Rock Throw, Payback, Stomping Tantrum, Smack Down, Bite, Rock Slide, Crunch, Sandstorm, Iron Defense, Dragon Pulse, Iron Head, Earthbreaker, Aerial Ace, Stone Edge, Dark Pulse, Rock Polish, Surf, Earthquake

Turtonator/Sunshine (Shell Armor) - Smog, Ember, Smokescreen, Incinerate, Iron Defense, Flamethrower, Shell Trap, Dragon Pulse, Bulldoze, Scorching Sands, Rock Tomb, Body Slam, Flash Cannon, Solar Beam, Rapid Spin, Scale Shot, Iron Tail, Focus Blast, Sunny Day, Fire Pillar, Flame Charge, Heat Crash, Fire Blast

Claydol (Levitate) - Mud Slap, Rock Tomb, Rapid Spin, Harden, Confusion, Psychic, Barrier, Imprison, Wide Guard, Light Screen, Reflect, Ancient Power, Teleport

Meltan/Mimi (???) - Not a battler

CHAPTER 323 - TURNING POINT V

My head against the wall of the shower. The usual comfortable caress of the water against my skin felt cold, empty and void of any safety. The sound reverberated through my tiny stall, so quiet behind the ringing in my ear. The endless blare usually wasn't this loud. Noticeable, yes, but this was the loudest it had been since my eardrum had burst. It was there, constantly nagging, pestering me even if I plugged my ears. Sometimes I'd close my eyes and try to imagine today hadn't been real. If I hadn't gotten ahead of myself and not offered to spar, Maylene wouldn't have fallen on top of me. Our eyes wouldn't have crossed for so long, and I would not have seen the love take shape within her right then and there.

The problem still would have remained, yet I would have been ignorant of it. Sometimes, that was best. Maylene probably would have kept hurting, which… wouldn't have been ideal, but it wasn't as if she wasn't hurting right now, was it? Forced into what I'd realized had kind of been a date, from her point of view. That must have been why she'd been so nervous near the start and asked about how she looked.

And my actions, God, my actions. Complimenting her looks, holding her hand that long, indirectly calling her cute— and that was just today. So many of our interactions since we'd come back from saving the world had been laced with these… innocent games from my point of view, but hope from hers. Odds were I'd given that crush life when I should have smothered it from the beginning. Instead, it had been watered, cultivated, tended to, and allowed to grow unchecked; fuck me, I was dense! If I'd stopped it from the beginning, then it would have been so daunting to burst. Not so damaging to all of us.

I clenched a fist, contemplated slamming it against the wall before figuring that would be really fucking stupid. If I'd been in Maylene's position— actually, I didn't even have to shape it that way. Back in Eterna City, when Cece and I had been on the cusp of dating, I'd believed she hadn't liked me back, but it was the little ways she'd go out of her way to stay with me and her actions that kept the ball rolling in the back of my head, that told me that maybe, just maybe, I had a chance.

Though our circumstances had been different, given that I'd known her engagement to Louis had been a sham rather early. Still, how long would I have contented myself to get crumbs of her affection if it hadn't been? To bask in the occasional ray of sunlight she'd afford me before turning back to Louis every day if it had been real?

Weeks? Months? I would have given up, eventually, or at least I believed so, but not right away.

The water from the shower cutting off interrupted my train of thought— I must have gone over my allotted ten minutes. I wrapped myself in a towel and paced toward the Pokemon Center's girl's changing rooms to put on my new clothes, ignoring the glances and the murmurs from the other girls who'd been using the washrooms. Not like I could hear whatever they were saying without my hearing aid in, but I imagined they must have been surprised to see me here. Cecilia had told me about some of the speculation about our involvement in Coronet, but 'luckily' the trainer community had settled on the narrative being that we'd only been there as support in Coronet's lower levels and that Craig, Cynthia and the Elite Four had been the ones who had made the real difference.

Normally, I would have found this irritating. To have done all of this with none of the credit, when I would rather have my Role within this story ignored than misconstrued. Today, I was too preoccupied to care. Once I was changed into traveling clothes (thick pants, boots and a simple blue shirt) and had my hearing aid back in, I found myself sitting in the Pokemon Center's lobby, contemplating what to do.

I'd dressed to go to route 215 and see Bellatrix and Night, but part of me wondered if I shouldn't just text Cecilia right now and go back to the League. The awkward part was that I'd have to go back to Maylene's Gym to ask to use her Kadabra, but maybe I'd manage to avoid her and get a League Trainer to help me instead. As Cecilia had learned from communicating with Maylene, current protocol meant that only the Gym Leaders had the authority to move their Kadabra around due to their current scarcity, but I was hoping I was a common sight and that they'd just sweep it under the rug, maybe…?

"Hello?"

No.

No, that was stupid. One, it'd get that particular employee in trouble, and two, Cecilia had just gotten Scizor and Toxicroak back from the Pokemon Center. I'd do well to let her have these few hours of peace before I dropped all of this on her. Arceus, tonight was going to be miserable. My body was already shaking at the uncomfortableness that was to come. How was I supposed to tell Cecilia that I wanted to keep seeing Maylene regularly and that I didn't like her back? How would she take it, if I told her the truth? That Maylene was the only person who currently could give me pure, carefree and unadulterated happiness not weighed down by how broken we were? It hadn't been set in stone before today, but now I knew.

I couldn't.

"Are you okay? You're Grace Pastel, right?"

Could this girl take a fucking hint?

Lanky, short brown hair, doe-eyed like she hadn't had a bad day in her life, and with a Dratini coiled around her neck. That last bit gave me a pause. Those were extra rare, even in Indigo, their country of origin. Denzel had wanted one, once.

"Sorry, I'm preoccupied right now." I was short and to the point, allowing a bit of frustration to leak into my tone.

"I bet you are!" The girl laughed, petting her Dratini, who cooed back at her. "You were looking at that phone like you wanted to kill it."

"Right," I grunted. "Anyway, I'm leaving."

I shot up and made my way to the exit—

"Wait! Could I please have an autograph? My little brother's a big fan!" she asked, pulling out a badge-case from her backpack. "It'd mean a lot to him."

Groaning, I speedwalked toward her, snatched her badge-case and a marker out of her hands and signed its back. She smiled as if I'd just made her day, which was enough to get me to calm down, if only slightly. Normal. This was normal. I had fans. It just was unusual after so long.

"Sorry for bothering you! If you see Denzel, you tell him Ashley hopes he's doing okay!" she yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth.

I hesitantly nodded before remembering that there'd been a girl Denzel had gambled with at the Game Corner back when it had still been open. One who had beaten the odds and gotten a Dratini. In fact, he'd told me they'd helped each other because they'd both wanted one.

Small world. He'd probably be glad to see she was doing fine after the bombings.

Now that I was free from the shackles of social interaction, Cassianus popped out of their Pokeball with the device's familiar hiss. The fact that I'd been so panicked I hadn't walked to the Pokemon Center with them spoke volumes of the gravity of the situation. What if someone had attacked me? With bleary blinks, the psychic observed the world around us. After rummaging through my bag for a moment, I handed them my straw hat. With a happy, artificial cheer, the Claydol levitated it on top of their head.

The decision had been made. I was going to see Bella. While I doubted a Pokemon as wild as her would have any advice for human relationships, we hadn't seen each other in a long time and I missed her and Night. My leg muscles were strained, but just walking shouldn't be that bad, especially after that long break in the Center.

Once we got to a more deserted street, I spoke up. "Sorry I've been silent. Something happened… something really difficult to deal with."

It is true that you appear preoccupied by something. I wanted to wait until you brought it up on your own. If you hadn't, it would have meant you did not desire to speak of it, Cass said. Clearly, they had a lot of learning to do about people, still, but they were doing their best. It is difficult to quantify emotion, but I would say you appear 68% more morose than usual. May I know what happened?

Hesitation gripped me for a moment, but what was the harm in telling them, anyway? I explained the entire situation from start to finish, including the fact that I'd had no idea of it until an hour ago.

Cass' hands rotated and hung close to their body. Ah, I see. Well, my King, your predecessors would sometimes take concubines that they would see romantically even while being married. Occasionally, you had women who all got along very well despite—

"It's not like that with her," I interrupted. "Also that's just not… I don't think I get those, anyway, but yeah, it's not like that."

Pauline, Emilia and Denzel's attempt at polyamory and it collapsing, taking Pauline and Emilia's relationship down with it was still fresh in my mind. I'd still rooted for them despite not exactly getting it, but one couldn't ignore the fact that these things were dicey and dangerous. Imagining Cece with another girl made my skin crawl with doubt. I assumed it was kind of taking a leap of faith. As I was now, would she even stick around? Especially after tonight?

Sure, I had believed Maylene to be romantically interested in Cecilia, but that hadn't bothered me because I already knew Cece just did not look at her that way at all. On the contrary, before 'figuring it out' and even after that, I'd wanted them to get closer so Cecilia would have someone else to rely on.

"Even if I was in love with Maylene, I definitely wouldn't do it. Cecilia wouldn't agree to it, and I've seen what forcing two people who don't want this leads to. There'd be three, in this case; that was a hypothetical."

Of course, Cassianus said, their eyes dimming. It was just a suggestion, you do not have to think anything of it. The vast majority of the time, this arrangement was forced on these women anyway. Some of them led miserable lives! That would be your right, of course, but—

I softly clicked my tongue. "You're thinking like these are old times again, Cass. We don't do that anymore."

The psychic hummed. My apologies. Updating memory banks.

"No worries, pal, you're still adapting to modern life." I patted their body and smiled. At least it was only my human relationships which were on fire.

Then I remembered Cecilia would have to deal with both soon and guilt tunneled into my heart. It was a claw digging through my chest, almost painful enough to make me physically react. I adjusted my collar and gulped.

The rest of the road to route 215 was largely silent, save for Cassianus asking about a few new things they saw on the way there. Perhaps they knew I didn't feel like talking, or that they wouldn't be able to offer much help, or a combination of both. Still, there was companionship in silence, and that was the kind of support I needed right now. Anyone other than Buddy would have been desperate to dig into my worries to find a solution to my issues right this instant instead of letting it simmer in my head. Honestly, I wished I could just ignore it, but it wouldn't be right. I had to be a good girlfriend to Cece.

Stepping through the gate brought back a lot of memories. It was this very moment, where I'd brought hundreds of wild Pokemon only a few hundred feet away from Veilstone, that had set me on a collision course with Maylene. Without the pride, ego and the fae ways my first stay with Bellatrix had offered, our battle might not have been anywhere as harsh. I did not fault Bella for this, for Pokemon were fundamentally different from people, and she had offered me guidance when I had been lost in the wake of Solaceon. She had allowed me to rediscover myself as a person.

Rain softly pattered against the barrier Cass had raised encompassing both me and them. They hated any form of water. Even rain proved too much for them. The deeper we stepped into the woods, the quieter things became. The world felt heavier, as if I was wading through thicker air. Bella's domain was in full effect, here. Occasionally, Pokemon would stop to look at us. A group of Burmy hanging from a tree branch to our right greeted us with a cheer, a Spinarak scuttling across the floor crawled up to me to ask if I needed directions, a Spearow asked to land on my shoulder to speak about her troubles. Here was where my title was at its strongest, but it wasn't the only reason why Pokemon were so friendly.

Bella's route was simply a lot more communal than most. Possibly more than any route in Sinnoh. Word about me had spread and basically every Pokemon here knew of me. Bellatrix had practically turned this place into another home for me, and I felt so at ease. The quiet, which I thought would be disconcerting, allowed the ringing in my ear to nearly fade. It was as if this whole thing with Maylene had just been a nightmare and the world was right again.

They remembered.

"You've never met her before but she's nice," I continued explaining to Cass. "Or, I guess she's nice if you're on her good side. Strict, but follow the rules and you'll be golden!" I raised a finger. "Just follow my lead. Since you're with me, you should be safe."

The ground type wavered in the air. Should be? May I get the odds in number, please? I would like to know how likely I am to cease existing today.

"Will be! You will be safe!" I quickly rectified. "Sorry, I worded that weird. You have nothing to worry about, Cass! She tolerates Sunshine, and you're a lot more easygoing than he is."

Ah, then I shall survive the afternoon. A cheer, dulled by the domain, emanated from their body, and multi-colored light shone out of their eyes. Anyone who can handle the Enforcer for more than twenty minutes has a tempered soul.

"I wouldn't go that far…" I muttered. "Where is she, anyway?"

It'd been forty minutes since we'd entered the route, which was twice as long as it had taken Bella to get here last time. I wasn't worried— if something had happened to her, then the effects on the route would have fallen as well. We meandered through the woods without a goal in particular, crossing into off-route territory while I recounted the many lessons the Hatterene had afforded me in the time we'd known each other. Cassianus seemed interested enough, though the more I spoke about her, the more terrified they got. If anything, it kept my mind off Maylene for the time being.

It took another twenty minutes for Nightstalker to show up. The Decidueye first announced his presence by letting sunlight peer through the canopy and wresting the rain clouds away from us. With a loud thump that left a pit in the earth, Night landed as suddenly as ever. Cassianus' hands jumped away from them and an alarm sound blared out of their body. Their hat slid in front of one of their eyes, as if that would hide them at all.

I supposed that if someone hadn't been expecting that, it would have been scary. "Relax, this is Nightstalker, the Decidueye I spoke to you about." Though their nerves were clearly frayed, they blinked and bobbed their head, slipping their hat back on.

Night's tight, leaf hood was more tattered than usual, and his gaze wasn't as piercing as I'd grown used to. His feathers weren't as well taken care of, either, as if he'd stopped grooming himself. The ghost type nudged his head at me with a deep caw that resonated through the woods, welcoming me into these Sacred Woods once more.

"Thanks." I walked up to the owl and wrapped him into a tight hug. His feathers were prickly. "Night? Everything okay?"

His gaze grew softer as he told me that everything was more than okay.

Bellatrix was expecting.



The Fae were creatures fueled by belief. With mental strength and the ability to trick themselves into believing something, the world followed along with them. In a way, they had learned to use the inherent rules of the universe and push that to their advantage further than any other type. That was why they were most familiar with domains and how they worked, though even then, trickery and subterfuge would bring them nowhere. Attempts to pierce the veil and to game this system would not bring them anywhere closer to immortality and power. Artisans of stories, they were, but just like everyone else there was a limit to how far their skills could bring them.

Nightstalker warned us, lifting one of his wings up ahead. Feathers dotted the area in front of us, sharpened like glaives and embedded in the dirt, tree bark or bushes. They glowered with a menacing purple that was unsettling to look at for too long. It was reminiscent of the Distortion World, but obviously nothing compared to that hell. It was easy to see how ghost types drew from that world now that I'd been there and back. I glanced at Cassianus, who looked half fascinated and half terrified of those feathers.

"What's that for?" I asked in their stead. "Some kind of protection for her?"

Night nodded, explaining that he'd arranged his feathers in a ring around Bellatrix. Should anyone cross the threshold without his permission, even from above, countless spirits under his authority would swarm the intruder and render them unconscious, giving him time to fly over and inspect them to see if they were an actual problem or a wild Pokemon who had made a mistake. Normally these would have been invisible to the naked eye unless you were in tune with Distortion as a concept, like Honey was, or a ghost yourself. Fortunately for us, turning it off required Night to gather the spirits back into his feathers, which gave them that nefarious purple glow and had them emanate that smoke. He'd done all of that without breaking a sweat when the perimeter he'd set was huge. Such fine control, both over TE and what must have been thousands of spirits. It was another reminder that there was a reason why he was Bella's partner. Noticing my impressed stare, Nightstalker hooted, saying that we were lucky Turtonator wasn't present, or he would have demanded a battle right this moment.

"He's not with us today, I'm afraid. He's getting healed at the Pokemon Center, as are Princess and Angel, though I'm sure you're right. It would have fired him up to fight you. I'm actually getting Princess back tomorrow."

The grass type nodded, smiling with his eyes, after which he crossed the threshold without an issue.

"Is this a good idea?" Claydol asked out loud. "Can you confirm that this is one hundred percent safe? Should you not disable it fully?"

Decidueye shrugged and explained that it would take too long to set it up again if he collapsed the entire structure.

"Come on, Cass. Night's trustworthy; if he says it's safe, then it's safe." I jumped over the boundary, and while it made me feel a little queasy, that was that. The vibration around my wrist signaled that it had woken Meltan up, and I soothed them with a pat. Outstretching my arms, I added, "come on, see? If I made it through okay, you can— actually, do you just want me to recall and release you?"

"No, of course not. I am your sworn protector, I must be able to do something like this…" Cassianus' head and arms retracted close to their body, they closed their eyes, and they rushed past the row of feathers. "I—I did it! I'm alive!"

I snorted, rolling my eyes. "Of course you are, silly." When Nightstalker quietly noted Claydol's… peculiarity, I nodded. "They're a little skittish, but I mean, it's what makes them special. They've saved my life countless times from the moment I met them, and they know when to get serious. A weird side is cool, too. They used to be all computer-like and stuff."

"I can still detect your vocalizations." Cass' eyes turned to X's and they shivered in the air. "Your actions are suboptimal and not conducive to our survival in the presence of a Pokemon capable of terminating us with mere cognitive effort. Recommending the recalibration of behavior immediately."

"Well, they still do it when they're angry or they're being petty, as you can see," I confirmed.

It took us another twenty minutes to get to Bella, which was welcomed given how tired my legs were. She hadn't gone that far away from the route. Nightstalker directed us toward—

My first reaction seeing her was to gasp.

She was upright, but unconscious and looked so hollow. Her pastel pink and blue hair had dimmed as if someone had drained the life out of her. Glamour— near-transparent pink dust— swarmed everything around her, clinging to her skin, hair, the dirt, trees and even turned the droplets of rain above her pink. While Nightstalker had ended the rain around us, a tiny cloud remained above her head, pouring on her continuously. It was loud, and deafeningly so. The sound of rain hammering against nature to give her the quiet she needed to give birth to a child.

Hatterene, as a species, were all female. They did not mate with any Pokemon to lay eggs, but created one through their desire to have a child. The egg was nearly finished forming in her dress-like hair, with only the top edge remaining empty. Bringing forth a new lifeform through belief took so much out of her she was barely recognizable.

"Is— is she going to be okay?" Beauty was something that made you grow quiet when you saw it. Like stepping into a cathedral, or walking through Spear Pillar. It was something that you were scared to touch, lest you tarnish it with your impurity. She was… beautiful. "Will she survive?"

Nightstalker wrapped a comforting wing around my shoulder. If it had taken a few days longer, he explained, she might have died in exchange for her child's life. As it stood right now, however, the egg would be finished today and she would awake soon after. With her being so strong, she would be back on her feet within a few days. The reason why Night was so disheveled must have been because for a while, he must have doubted if she'd survive or not. It must have rattled him, and he'd been alone the entire time. After hugging him again and telling him how sorry I was for what he'd gone through, I took another look at Bellatrix.

This egg;

I knew this Pokemon. This was Theodora, the Hatenna Bella had given Beast before she'd left route 215. Just like her mother, it was a mixture of white, pale pink and blues. Even in this timeline, things were consistent.

So why could Maylene not be?

Decidueye leaned against a tree, crossing his arms. He too, was quiet in order not to bother his partner, but he asked me what was on my mind.

I gulped. Normally, I would have wanted to maybe speak to Bellatrix about this, but it wasn't like she'd be available. Of course, I'd stick around until the egg was finished forming and she was awake again; I wouldn't miss this for the world, but it was kind of… weird to speak to him about these issues. Sure, we were close enough to, but that had never really been the shape of our relationship.

There was a first time for everything, apparently. After laying a towel on the wet dirt, I sat down and patted the area next to me. He sat down and began to pick at his feathers, waiting patiently for me to begin. I told him everything to the best of my abilities, though I did not talk about the different timelines and merely glanced over what happened in Coronet. Nightstalker already knew I'd been given the Plume according to Bellatrix's story— that I'd been chosen to save the world from calamity, but he still found it difficult to believe that I'd been in Coronet and lived. The world being ripped apart atop Coronet, its spine and highest peak, was the reason why Bellatrix had managed to push herself far enough to have a child.

"Now I'm dreading tonight," I sighed, hugging one of Claydol's hands. They'd given one to me to hold onto for support. "I don't even know what I'll say. Why did this have to happen…"

The grass type hummed, placed a feather in my hair and asked a question. What do you think about this Maylene girl? He knew of her, though according to him, they'd never met in person because of how young she was, so it was only Cynthia that came by to negotiate sometimes. Her and her so-called horrible Garchomp or friendly Togekiss.

With my body curled inward, I closed my eyes and lay my head against my knees. "I mean, she's a good girl. She's one of my main drives to do better, because I don't want to hurt her again. She's pure-hearted. I guess that's why the thought of her liking me somewhat just repulses…" I bit my lip. That wasn't true, but using the strongest word was my feeble attempt at putting some distance between the concept that she could love me. "No, that's too harsh. It's not like I don't like her personality, or that I don't find her attractive." I wasn't blind. Maylene was extremely fit and pleasing to look at. "It just doesn't compute. Like, I don't want to taint her. And that makes it impossible for me to reciprocate what she feels. I think it'd be the same way without Cece, honestly." Even without my girlfriend in the picture, I doubted I could bring myself to love anyone else. It'd feel phony. "Maylene should just find someone who'd do right by her."

Nightstalker sagely said that the heart wanted what the heart wanted. That it wasn't anyone's fault she was into me. He followed up by warning that if I kept being so wishy-washy about this, I risked losing both Cecilia and Maylene, in which case the answer was right in front of my face.

"It is, isn't it?" I sighed, which slowly turned into a frustrated groan. "I honestly think it might just be relieving to reject her. To be done with this whole thing." Air flowed in through my clenched teeth. "Here's the thing, though. I need her."

Both Cass and Decidueye stared at each other. I raised both of my hands, and the former let out a sad beep when their turret-like hand rolled onto the floor. "Stop it. Don't go there."

Nightstalker shrugged, saying that it sounded like I wasn't helping my case.

"No. I know what it feels like when I'm newly in love with someone. I get tongue-tied, and I get nervous around them, and I blush, and I can barely look that person in the eye." Each time I listed a new element, I raised a finger. "I get butterflies in my stomach when we touch, I think about kissing them and cuddling and— anyway! It was like that with Cecilia, and it's always been like that even the two times I've had a crush in school. I have none of that with her. I just can't see her that way because— well, I told you already. It's just not my shape."

Cassianus chimed in as quietly as possible as their hand stuck back to their side. "Is she merely a friend, then?"

"No. She's… more than that." A best friend? No, Denzel was my best friend, and the vibes I had with him were completely different. "But she's also less in some ways? I mean, I know a lot less about her than I do my other friends because we haven't known each other as long, but I care a lot more about her? It's like, more intimate?" My head bumped against the tree behind me. "Is there a word for someone who's more than a typical friend but less than a girlfriend?"

Neither Pokemon knew, though Night insisted Bellatrix would know, given that she was good with words.

"Anyway, thanks for hearing me out, Night. It kind of helped putting it all into words, and it helps to have done a practice run to know what I'll say to Cece." Bellatrix would have been far less direct than he was in his questioning, but putting me on the backfoot was what I'd most likely face. "The crux of the issue is that I'm a selfish girl who wants to have her cake and eat it too."

Decidueye hooted, saying it wasn't wrong to be selfish, if you knew what it would lead to.

"Well, for now I hope I still have a girlfriend at the end of the day. That'd be nice." Shivering, I hugged myself and allowed Night to wrap me in closer. "My parents said they'd see about getting me a therapist. Maybe instead of everything else, I can discuss all of this crap. Throw one of my problems at 'em."

I got to hear all about how Nightstalker didn't understand how therapy even worked until he froze against me. All of our eyes converged toward Bellatrix, whose egg rolled out of her hair— Nightstalker cradled it in his arm, and it was only when I registered that he was somewhere else that I felt the cold wind from his movement flow across the woods. I rushed to follow him and knelt at Bella's side. The glamour slowly disappeared around her, as did the rain, but she was breathing, even if she looked like she was in pain. As he'd said, she would be fine.

Thank the Legendaries. I couldn't take any more loss.

Nightstalker stared at the egg with so much love he looked like a different person. His piercing irises were now soft and blurry at the edges, as if he was about to cry. He brought it close to his face and cooed, feeling at the outer shell with his beak as the pink dust bled away from its outer layer. Seeing him like this was honestly making me a little emotional.

"You did good." I ran a hand through Bellatrix's hair, which was as coarse as what I imagined a bale of hay would be like. I laughed at her sleeping face as my heart burst with joy. "You're going to have a daughter."

She wouldn't wake up for a while yet, but the worst had passed.

Both Bella and Theodora were going to be safe and sound.



When the Keeper of the Sacred Woods awoke, she pulled herself upward with the massive claw attached to her head. Night immediately handed me the egg— which was so light it might as well have been a helium-filled balloon— and rushed to his lover's side. It felt odd, holding her. It wasn't just that her egg felt fuzzy like cotton instead of the hard shell I'd expected. I was already attached despite not knowing this little baby because I'd seen her grow up through Beast's perspective. Strangely enough, Bellatrix hadn't struggled anywhere as much to bring Thea to life in that timeline, but from what I'd understood, me sticking around for longer and getting a larger dose of fairy TE had made her wish for a daughter really badly. Maybe that had been enough?

At first, Bella hastily chastised Nightstalker vocally for acting like she was a damsel in distress, which considering I'd never seen her actually speak, spoke volumes about how close the two were. She was bent forward as if the act of standing straight was painful for her, and her eyes, which were usually so full of starlight and a reflection of the vast firmament above us, were darkened and cloudy. Her mind must have been foggy from how much she'd imposed her beliefs upon the world and won. With a sudden panicked shriek accompanied by her lashing out with her claw, she demanded to know where her egg was. To know if she had succeeded like she'd seen in her dream.

Then Nightstalker pointed at me, and all was right in her world again. The power of love for your child truly transcended species. Just like Night, I'd never seen her look like this. So non-threatening. She nearly looked affable, if you ignored the fact that she had too many teeth for her mouth and her grin was too wide to be natural.

"Hi," I said, before realizing I no longer had to whisper. I was still cradling the egg in my arms as gently as could be. "I swung by to visit."

It seems the strings of fate knew when to make you show up, sister. Her voice was distorted and far weaker than usual, but she was still coherent. And who is this? Bellatrix eyed Cass, who I introduced to her before handing her egg back.

Nightstalker kept hovering over her, clearly terrified she'd be so weak she would accidentally drop it, but she paid him no mind.

I'm sorry, my King, but that is a horrifying creature. You lied to me, she does not look nice at all, Claydol spoke into my mind while simultaneously greeting her. "Well-met. I have heard many good things about you from my liege Grace Pastel, and they did not disappoint! You look like a very trustworthy individual, and congratulations on the new egg."

Bellatrix stared at him long and hard until inch by inch, the ground type found themselves behind me.

Containing my giggle proved impossible. "Cass… she can read minds."

"Error detected. Please disregard the previous eighteen point six seconds, Keeper of the Sacred Woods. A malfunction in my programming occurred. Initiate reset protocol." Their eyes darkened, and they fell upon the ground a lifeless doll.

"Sorry about them, they're silly!"

While Cass 'reset' themselves, Bellatrix noticed the presence upon my wrist. Oh, and this one. Such a powerful mind brought before me, she hummed curiously and brushed her claw against Mimi, who squealed in fear. I'm happy to see you've added two more members to your gathering, sister, she said with an ever-widening smile that never ended.

"And so am I for you." I eyed the egg. "Congratulations."

It took a lot from me, and I will remain weaker for a while yet, she said. Childbirth is not an easy task, for us Hatterene. What brings you here, my dear sister?

"It's nothing," I muttered, glancing at Night. "I just felt like seeing the two of you." He did not respond, yet I knew he would keep my secret.

Better not ruin the moment.

Bella stroked my hair with her claw. If you ever want to speak of it, I am here. Even through the distorted voice, I could tell how gentle she was being. I am not one to steal secrets, unless it's for the right price of course. Now, her eyes shimmered as stars began to slowly gather there again, why don't you tell me why you're looking at my child with such knowing eyes?

"I really can't hide anything from you, can I?"

We kept exchanging knowledge deep into the evening, I about Coronet and her about old stories and how she would allow her mind to slip in and out of them as needed to not grow too predictable or lost within a world of her own making that no longer represented reality, and I assured her I would come back for Theodora's hatching (and sooner than that, of course). She would need to wait until July for one last push of belief to get the child out of the egg. Should it have cracked right now, Thea might last a few hours before fizzling out in a puff of glamour as if she'd never existed.

How I already knew her daughter's name?

That, she could not pay enough for quite yet.



The dreaded hour had come. I'd recalled all of my Pokemon for this, even Meltan.

I had manage to get home by asking for a League Kadabra instead, since they were freer in the evening. Honestly, once the ones from Kanto-Johto would be there sometime this week, navigating the region and getting places would be so much easier without that bottleneck on teleporters.

I heard her coming in first, and it made me feel like my entire body was being squeezed out like a cork. My hands lay flat on our dinner table to stop them from trembling, and I took a deep breath before calling her over. It crushed me seeing her so happy knowing what I was about to do to her. She must have had a relatively good day with her team. Phone still in hand, she snaked her arms around my neck from behind, and leaned down to kiss me on the cheek as she slipped Sweetheart's Pokeball back onto the table.

Fuck.

"Is something wrong?" She must have noticed I hadn't been as into it as usual.

My heart was going to explode. I was going to die. "Hey. You should, uh, you should sit," I dryly said. "I have… news regarding Maylene." This was the right thing to do. I couldn't chicken out this time, or it would be ten times worse when she figured it out on her own and realized I'd kept hanging out with Maylene.

She hesitated, grabbing onto her arm and squeezing it tight. "I was talking to her earlier." A void formed in my stomach, and nausea took a hold of me. "She told me you had a good time. Are your legs okay?"

"Cece, this is important."

Once, she could ignore, but twice? Cecilia steeled herself with a hardening gaze that felt like a thousand pounds laid upon my shoulders, and she sat opposite of me with her legs crossed under the table.

"So it is," she declared with a defeated sigh as if she'd known this had been coming. She moved her arm subtly next to the purse she'd been carrying, and Scizor was summoned with a flash of red. "For tough conversations, I need someone to tell me if I'm slipping. I hope you understand." Scizor looked at me with a few confused blinks, but settled into his role immediately, fitting in behind Cecilia like a missing piece of the puzzle despite his clear, lasting ire toward her.

"Yeah, I get it." My words had too much power over her, after all. Each breath was tougher than the last. The effort to open my mouth, a herculean one that made sweat pour through the pores of my skin. My palm, already slick with sweat, slid against the wooden table. It was as if every instinct, every part of my body was screaming at me not to do this, but it was too late. I had jumped off the metaphorical plane, and now I could only hope I'd stick the landing. "So, um." Teeth sank into my cheek so hard I tasted metal. "Maylene likes me. She's in love with me."

The tension was so thick you would choke on the air. "Did she confess to you?" Cecilia asked with rising anger.

"No. I just figured it out because of how she kept looking at me," I quickly said. God, the last thing I wanted was for Cecilia to blame Maylene for this. She relaxed, if only slightly. "Long story short, she… looked at me in a way that only someone in love with me would. I've worked it in my mind over and over, but that's the only way this situation makes sense to me, even if I wish it wasn't real. But that's the thing, Cece. I don't— I don't see her like that."

"So? What did you say? She seemed quite unphased this evening."

I licked the blood off my inner cheek and bounced my leg against the floor. "I don't like her like that," I repeated. "But I didn't say anything."

Cece's eyes widened, but then she broke into a sad smile. "...I figured it would come to this." Her legs uncrossed, and she rose from her chair.

I shot up from my seat. "Cece, let me explain—"

She laughed. "Clearly you like her. You just don't realize it yet—"

"No! Listen to me. I am dense, I admit it. I should have figured this out sooner and done something about it, but I know my heart. I know what it's like to love someone. I feel it every day with you. If I loved her, I would have told you. I'm laying all the cards on the table, aren't I?"

Narrowing her eyes at me, Cecilia stayed there, her hand flat against the table as she contemplated leaving. Scizor hissed at her, telling her to say something, and she shook herself out of her stupor. "You're telling the truth. So then why?"

"Because I—" How I phrased this was going to be the difference between disaster and not. "Look, no matter what I say, I don't want you to change your plans to leave, okay? I need you to promise me that."

Cecilia drummed her fingers on the table, but thankfully sat back down. "That depends on what you say. I can't in good conscience agree to that."

Scizor and I shared a look, and he nodded behind her. Good enough; he would push her to leave regardless. "Right now, I don't think I am capable of not rotting away in my bed in a depressive spiral if neither of you are here for me."

"I knew it." She angrily jabbed a finger in my direction. "I knew it was worse than you wanted to show—"

"Of course, Cece! Because I have to hide it, because you'd stay if I didn't and I want what's good for you!" Both of our tones were rising, edging close to the point of no return. Desperate to find a compromise, I gripped my shirt in an attempt to calm down. "And listen, I know this is selfish of me. I know I'm kind of leading her on; I'll try to stop doing stuff that can be interpreted wrong. Maybe when you come back, I'll have gotten better and I'll be able to tell her that she should give up on me."

Another deep breath as she gathered the strength to answer and not fold with a soft, yet irritating buzz from Scizor. "Look at this situation. Really look at it. Tell me that if things were reversed, you would be completely okay with this," she demanded, her voice a low, threatening whisper.

"Honestly? Yes, though I can't know because I'm obviously not in that situation, but I thought she had something for you and I wouldn't have minded you getting closer." I meant it from the bottom of my heart, too. If I knew she needed someone else, be it Chase, Maylene or anyone, I'd let her do it so long as it didn't get beyond that. Granted, just like her, maybe I'd start doubting, and it'd nag at me until I broke. "At the end of the day, this is your decision. If you want me to tell her no, I'll tell her. I'll tough it out for the weeks that you're gone. I'll have my parents, and Denzel is waking up soon."

Cecilia looked at me;

Shook her head;

Rose again.

"Oh, no. I understand."

I blinked, incredulous. "I told you it's not like that!" Was she really going to do this? "I don't like her. It's entirely platonic from my side, at least!"

"I… acknowledge this, as I acknowledge your right to crave her presence. As I said, I understand." She turned away from me and strode toward our bedroom. I followed her, calling out her name louder and louder. "That doesn't mean that I'm not hurt by it." She opened our closet and ransacked through her clothes, shoving them in tight bundles inside the bag lying next to the bed.

"Then ask me. Ask me to never see her again, and I won't!"

"No. If I have to ask you, Grace, you will grow to resent me for it. If she can give you something I can't, then I have clearly failed somewhere along the line. I suffer for my sins. I suffer for waiting too long. It is what it is."

I scoffed, struggling to register what I'd just heard. "It is what it is? You can't just sum up this past year with an 'it is what it is' just because you like to distance yourself from things that hurt you, Cecilia. You can't."

When she did not respond, I threw everything at the wall. Everything. Said I'd do anything to keep her, said that we were leaving soon anyway and that the crush would fade, that I would rebuild myself, that I thought Maylene liked her instead, forgetting I'd already told her, that I would block her—

"No need. She shouldn't suffer because of us. The decision has been made, no matter what you do. Do me a favor and help her with her father when I'm in the wild. I will keep helping her until then; do not tell her about this, she will blame herself."

"W—what? That makes no fucking sense! You're speaking in tongues right now!"

Did she want me not to talk to her, or did she want me to help her? I couldn't wrap my head around her thought process. So then, desperate to cling to her, to understand her, I gave in to anger.

"Don't be all holier than thou, anyway. I saw it on your face when I told you!" I yelled so harshly my throat hurt. "You knew about this, and you didn't tell me anything! This isn't just on me!"

Mistake. Scizor stood in-between us, threatening me with his claws, and I nearly let my powers flare up to get him the fuck away. Nearly.

"I know," she replied, zipping up her bag. Her shoulders hunched together and she kept not wanting to look at me. "This isn't just on you. I never claimed it to be. This is what I believe is best for the both of us."

"Then talk to me—"

"I can't do that, because every time I go against you I get the urge to drop to my knees and beg for your forgiveness, and I have grown tired of it." She shrunk as soon as she realized she'd raised her voice. "This isn't even just Maylene. This is just the straw that broke the Camerupt's back. I can't take much more of this, or I'll lose myself forever. I'll just become a puppet whose only goal is to please you."

I broke down into tears. "Are you saying I'm like Abel to you?"

Just when she'd been about to give me the time of day, Scizor bumped her back with a claw. "That's not— it's not what I said. Don't put words in my mouth."

I tried. Tried, tried, tried until I was empty. Nothing ever worked. I wish I could know what she was thinking so I knew exactly what to say to get out of this unscathed without breaching her privacy. Desperately, I threw in a last ditch effort when she was nearly gone.

"Is this it, then? Are you abandoning me? After everything?" I sobbed. Snot had joined in the mix; I must have looked terrible, but it didn't matter.

It was difficult to tell with how blurry everything looked, but her gaze softened. "I—I could never do that." She held out a hand toward my cheek. It froze in mid-air, and it retreated back at her side before it could touch me. "I think it's best we… go on another break, Grace. Figure ourselves out."

"Don't do this. Don't do that thing where you take a drastic decision because it makes you feel in control, please," I begged, unable to stop the tears. "We can talk this out. Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it. I'll fit into that Role." I collapsed on my knees at the entrance of our condo, unable to gather the strength to stand.

"You need this just as I do, love." She crouched at my side, grabbed my hand and placed it against her cheek after kissing it softly. "I love you, Grace. But loving you hurts, sometimes." Her tone was as unwavering as a glacier, but tears were rolling down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, but maybe this is for the best. Even if I want to rip out my tongue for saying such words." She stood back up, opening the door. "You can stay in the condo. I'll—" she sniffled, "sleep in a Center. Talk to the others; focus on your team; I'll have Chase to help me. Again, I'm sorry."

The door slammed shut.

Yeah.

Against the floor, I stared at the ceiling.

"Did I just… get dumped?" She'd called it another break, but it felt so much more serious than that.

It was so quiet. I could only hear my heart, defeated and bleeding, against my ribcage, the blood pumping in my ears as the adrenaline slowly drained out of my body, leaving me a tired heap barely able to twitch.

My ears started to ring until they encompassed everything within the confines of my head.

Today felt like it wasn't real.

"I gotta pick up Princess tomorrow."

My voice was so vacant it was barely audible.

Maybe sticking around with my parents for a while wouldn't be so bad.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A.
 
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Chapter 324
Togekiss/Princess (Hustle) - Pound, Sweet Kiss, Growl, Headbutt, Fairy Wind, Ancient Power, Extrasensory, Thunder Wave, Air Cutter, Wish, Psychic, Shadow Ball, Dazzling Gleam, Moonblast, Charge Beam, Air Slash, Mystical Fire, Tri-Attack, Nasty Plot, Defog

Jellicent/Buddy (Water Absorb) - Bubblebeam, Night Shade, Absorb, Water Sport, Water Pulse, Hex, Poison Sting, Mist, Acid Armor, Shadow Ball, Recover, Brine, Whirlpool, Hydro Pump, Water Spout, Acid, Will-O-Wisp, Ice Beam, Taunt, Scald, Boil, Freeze, Protect, Ice Blade, Rain Dance, Extrasensory

Electivire/Honey (Motor Drive) - Thundershock, Swift, Electric Swift, Thunder Punch, Charge, Leer, Ice Punch, Thunderbolt, Discharge, Fire Punch, Protect, Cross Chop, Thunder, Low-Kick, Screech, Radiant Leap, Static Shield, Bulldoze, Hammer Arm, Rain Dance, Lightning Bolt

Tangrowth/Angel (Chlorophyll) - Vine Whip, Absorb, Mega Drain, Stun Spore, Bind, Poison Powder, Leech Seed, Ancient Power, Power Whip, Knock Off, Sunny Day, Giga Drain, Sleep Powder, Solar Beam, Solar Blade, Brick Break, Ingrain, Bulldoze

Tyranitar/Sweetheart (Sand Stream) - Leer, Tackle, Horn Attack, Rock Throw, Payback, Stomping Tantrum, Smack Down, Bite, Rock Slide, Crunch, Sandstorm, Iron Defense, Dragon Pulse, Iron Head, Earthbreaker, Aerial Ace, Stone Edge, Dark Pulse, Rock Polish, Surf, Earthquake

Turtonator/Sunshine (Shell Armor) - Smog, Ember, Smokescreen, Incinerate, Iron Defense, Flamethrower, Shell Trap, Dragon Pulse, Bulldoze, Scorching Sands, Rock Tomb, Body Slam, Flash Cannon, Solar Beam, Rapid Spin, Scale Shot, Iron Tail, Focus Blast, Sunny Day, Fire Pillar, Flame Charge, Heat Crash, Fire Blast

Claydol (Levitate) - Mud Slap, Rock Tomb, Rapid Spin, Harden, Confusion, Psychic, Barrier, Imprison, Wide Guard, Light Screen, Reflect, Ancient Power, Teleport

Meltan/Mimi (???) - Not a battler

CHAPTER 324

I awoke against the cold, hard floor with eyes still bleary from having slept for so long. Again, I'd been bound by incessant nightmares, but they weren't about what lurked in our reflection within Distortion, just beyond our reach. These were far more typical. This was the third time I'd gone to sleep, and the third time I had been wrecked by nightmarish visions of Cecilia. I'd see things that had not happened, like her berating me before leaving and calling me worthless, all the way to her deciding that she'd be better off without me after spending months apart and finding fulfillment with another girl in Unova.

I felt sick. My stomach roiled, yet I hadn't eaten in so long nothing but acid came up my throat. My entire body hurt from having slept on the ground for this long. I glanced at the analog clock on the wall near the turn toward the living room and saw that it was three in the afternoon. Of the next day. I'd done nothing but lay there, drifting in and out of sleep for eighteen hours straight. I'd run out of tears, having cried too much to start again, and there was no energy to be found within me.

Yet I had to stand up anyway. For my daughter. For my other Pokemon.

With a heave, I pushed myself off the ground. Clumsily, at first. Stumbling and bumping into walls as if I'd been inebriated. There was still dried drool on my chin that I slowly wiped off as my legs carried me to the bathroom. Collapsing on the toilet like a puppet whose strings had been cut off, I finally stopped holding back and allowed myself to pee.

I hated this place, I realized as I looked up at the darkened bathroom's ceiling. The circumstances we'd been given the home hadn't been ideal, but there were too many memories there. Waiting for Cecilia to come back with food nearly ready and her kissing me good evening. How we slept at night sharing each other's warmth. Cuddling on the couch under a blanket while watching TV. Looking at her work with a dumb grin on my face and watching her slowly find herself again, along with her goals. Clearly it hadn't been enough. I was nothing but a herald of misery and pain whose mere presence had clipped her wings and kept her shackled to the earth.

I flushed the toilet and slowly watched the water drain and turn clear again. Shower. I needed to wash myself next. Change my clothes. Then eat something. Drink water. Go outside and pick up Princess. A very direct and simple outlining of tasks for the day that drained me just thinking about it. It felt monumental, slightly out of reach, but I knew it was my mind playing tricks on me. It wasn't— I was going to be fine. I just needed to make it through this. I dragged my feet back to the bedroom where I'd left my Pokeballs and grabbed Buddy's. Subconsciously, I glanced toward the gouged out closet.

It was still open and nearly half empty, but some of her clothes were still in here. Immediately, I shot down using bringing them back as an excuse to see her again, but it didn't help that the idea popped up in my head in the first place. I ran a hand through the remainder of her clothes, bringing one of her few shirts' sleeve up to my face so I could smell—

Ugh.

Stop it. Just stop it. My grip on the sleeve slowly loosened until I got a hold of myself and slammed the closet shut. I needed to get out of this house.

Back in the bathroom, I spent five minutes leaning my head against the wall to mentally prepare myself for this shower, which was built into a bathtub. Lethargically, every piece of clothing on me fell to the ground. I released Buddy out of his ball, and instantly he figured something must have been wrong; my face must have looked worse than usual.

"I had a fight with Cece; I fucked up with her," I dryly explained, unwilling to spend too much time dwelling on yesterday's events. The more I spoke it into the world, the more tangible it became. Like a story taking shape. "I won't be seeing her for a while. Can you help me wash? Please?"

He answered with nothing but a nod and a pained, dimming stare, knowing to stay silent. I sat down in the bathtub, hugged my knees and waited for the heated water to wash over my skin. With a glow in his eyes, he lifted the liquid soap and washed me, ever so slowly. His mastery of Extrasensory had improved leaps and bounds. Once my hair was wet, he used the water to lift each bundle, slowly untying them as he ran shampoo through the loosened strands. He'd tell me when to close my eyes, when to open them and he was just… what I needed.

Moping was well and good, but I needed some sort of plan to get out of this rut. My teeth sank into my bottom lip to use the pain to focus, causing me to taste some shampoo of the in my mouth. Blegh. Disgusting, just like me. Both my body and mind had to catch up with what I needed already.

Maylene. I had to keep my distance from her. As Cecilia had said, it wasn't on her. It was me. It wasn't so much a punishment for her as it was something that was needed for all of our well-beings. The… argument yesterday evening had been the splash of cold water I'd needed, and while I couldn't claim I knew what the hell I was doing, this was a whole lot better than going to see her as soon as I could. That would be a betrayal. Knowing her, she would ask me to work out again next weekend, which was when she'd make time for me, but I'd find an excuse to say no. Usually, either of us would call or text, but I'd cut back on those to merely check in on her work and her father as well and disallow anything veering past the usual small talk.

My nails dug into my wet palms strongly enough to leave marks. That resolution was unfortunately hurting as much as I thought it would, but it was one I should have taken right away as soon as I'd figured Maylene out, anyway. What I'd done, putting it off, had just delayed the inevitable. Plus, Cece would be here this week and they had an actual normal friendship going, or at least it looked that way from the outside.

Okay. This was good. Better than being a lump of flesh sleeping on the floor. More painful, but better.

Once the shower ended and Buddy put conditioner in my hair, I released Honey next, whom I gave the same, short yet to the point explanation of what was going on. The electric type wrapped me into a hug which Jellicent distorted himself to join, and the tears I thought I'd run out of came out flowing again. Buddy told Honey I hadn't eaten yet, and he immediately got started on a meal. Something with eggs. Mimi came next (the Meltan found themselves at home on my shoulder, whispering metallic chimes in my ear) and then Cass, who clumsily asked how my conversation with Cecilia had gone.

Had they not despised water, Buddy might have sprayed them with some. They realized quickly enough when my eyes glanced down at the floor in defeat, though.

"After I finish eating, we're picking up Princess from the Center and I think I'm gonna go for a flight once she's all caught up," I droned emotionlessly. "Maybe stay someplace in Sunyshore for a bit, I dunno. I don't think I can stay in this condo. Come back when Sunshine and Angel are ready to be picked up."

In what I assumed was an attempt to cheer me up, Mimi jumped off my shoulder and onto the couch. Mimicking Jellicent, they split off a part of themselves you could barely call a clone and started piercing it with a needle at the end of their arm you could call a sword if you were generous. Play-fighting. With a saddened smile, I dragged them back toward my shoulder after kissing their little head. Mimi pulled at my hair, resonating with a curiosity that had their eye spin around in a lazy circle inside their golden gear. More seriously, however, Jellicent asked if I was certain this was a wise move.

"I could find a Pokemon Center here Cecilia isn't in, I know. It's not like there's just one." I rasped my knuckles against the couch, idly browsing through my phone. Nothing from her, obviously, but just having her contact information there was agonizing to see. It was like my phone was taunting me. Aside from my parents, there was only the usual daily check-in from Melody and Jasmine to see how I was doing. The former had also asked me if I wanted to give a speech about Craig during the Poketch after-party once his ceremony was done— which I answered with a resounding no. I simply wasn't capable of it. The latter was a lot of complaining about work and all the proceedings needed to get things done. "You know, maybe Pastoria or Floaroma would be better. All that open air where Sweetheart would be able to join us more often."

This time, it was Honey who chimed in from the kitchen asking about my parents while he beat some eggs. I had told them I'd think about staying with them, and according to him, if open air was what I was after, Twinleaf would be a great option, especially when I'd have my mother with me and my dad a mere flight away. Buddy nodded along, adding that perhaps my father had been right when he'd said I need something new to focus on. If it wasn't going to be training and badges, then it better have been music. I could at least give it a try.

Subconsciously, I winced at how much sense they were making. "Yeah. 'Guess you're both right. I need to focus on training again sooner rather than later," I sighed, leaning back against the couch so much my body practically sank into the pillows. That was going to be a whole lot of work. Honey yelled again, asking what I'd do about Denzel. I wanted to say he had Pauline and Emilia, that just like usual I'd hurt him unintentionally as I did others, but I ended up nodding. "Yeah… I should stick around for at least a few more days so I can stay with him. He's going to be utterly lost."

"A good king does not leave those in need, especially not in their darkest hour," Cass helpfully said before turning their attention back to the window.

Meltan demanded to see what was so interesting, so I used them as an excuse to keep moving— part of me believed they'd done so on purpose, too. There was a balcony I'd only been on once, the day we'd gotten this hotel condo. Cece would use it far more often, especially at night to see the lights.

After struggling to get it open due to how weak I still felt, I leaned against the railing, inhaling the fresh afternoon air. I wringed my hands together tightly and stared at a pair of Starly which had perched right to the side. The slightly larger bird was grooming the other, with his beak deep in the scruff of her neck as she kept letting out loving coos.

"None of that!" Cassianus yelled with glowing eyes. "Shoo! Shoo, you abominable little creatures!" The air around the two Starly vibrated enough for them to fly off, but not before hurling a few insults our way. "It appears the world itself was trying to taunt you. Luckily, I was here to intervene. I must apologize for being so slow."

I laughed silently, exhaling air out of my nose. "Cass, they're just birds. It's fine. I'm not gonna freak out every time I see two people… I mean, I don't know if they were together, but you get the gist of it."

There was a chill when Buddy followed close behind, noting that his presence most likely would have had them flee anyway. The Jellicent extended his limb, wrapping a tentacle around my shoulder. I leaned into the cold touch, squishing myself against his face as he warmed himself to mimic the temperature of human skin. My legs suddenly felt as if they could barely support my weight, and I sniffled, wiping a bit of snot off my nose with my arm.

I missed her so much. Sure, seeing the Starly hadn't made me angry, but it did mildly remind me of her, like everything else. Everywhere I looked, I saw pieces of her.

I could make it through this. Surely.

When Honey called out to us with scrambled eggs, potatoes and cheese, he'd also grabbed Mimi's scrap metal to feed them and made another meal for himself. We all ate together, and I had Buddy discover his hatred of anything egg-related. Despite not needing to eat, I'd thrown pieces of it at his head in a competition with Honey to see who could aim at its center. The ghost had recoiled, collapsing on himself like a dying star and nearly exploded all over the room. That was sheer disgust. Honey took a bit of offense until I reassured him that his eggs tasted really good. It was mindless fun, really. Playing with food like we were ten years old.

But any distraction was welcome—

A vibrating phone was something I'd learned to ignore; it was inconspicuous enough now for me to nearly forget that meant I'd gotten an alert the moment it happened. After yesterday, I was subconsciously foaming at the mouth for any word from Cece. It wasn't her, and it wouldn't be for quite a long time, but it was easy to get drunk on false hope that she would take me back. Just seeing someone else's name on my screen made me want to sob; there was something deeply wrong with me. My stomach dropped when I actually registered that Maylene was texting me.

Maylene - Heyyy

Maylene - I wanted to thank u again for hanging out with me ytd sry I was a little weird at the end

Maylene - Should have told u goodbye after ur shower.

This was exactly what I didn't want to happen, and since she'd know I'd seen her message, it'd be weird not to answer. I needed to be short and to the point with this to cut off any avenue of the conversation going somewhere I didn't want it to. Worst-case scenario, I'd use the convenient truth that I needed to pick up my daughter from the Center.

You - It's no problem. I was fine and ended up going to a Pokemon Center anyway.

Maylene - Oh, rly? I guess theyre more familiar than gym showers, I get it

Maylene - Wyd? Did you pick up Togekiss yet?

Just when I'd been about to get my out and say I was just about to leave, meaning I'd have little time to talk today, she added another text.

Maylene - It'd be cool if you came over tmr too. I know it'd be busy but work would probably zoom by when you're both here.

Both.

Both here.

Cecilia was coming over—

Maylene - You probs cant though. Thats ok, ill wait until saturday. We're still on for that, right?

Why in the world was she throwing all of this at me? I was exhausted just reading all of these—

No. She was just clueless, it wasn't her fault. Mostly, I was surprised Cecilia was already out and about, functioning and planning things with others while the simple act of going out for me felt like the most difficult thing in the world, at the moment. Something I had to mentally prepare myself for for hours before I could even take a step outside.

You - I can't come by tomorrow, sorry. I'll see about this week-end, but it might be dicey since I'll be back with my parents.

Maylene - Not even sunday? That sucks, but i understand.

I felt guilty. Why did I feel guilty? All of it was literally true— she was still typing.

Maylene - Unrelated, but even though Cecilia hasnt asked me again ive been toying around with aura in my free time to practice different shades. I was thinking if i manage different blues then other colors arent out of reach. Maybe ill figure it out before she comes back from her trip down south

Maylene - probs not but itd be good to pay her back. shed probably say its unneeded and that she just comes over for experience at leading tho

You - Im sure you will manage. You two have a great time.

You - I gotta gopick up Princess. Good luck today at work.

I had to keep my distance, especially when I wasn't in the right state of mind to see her again. These texts confirmed it, I still craved the normalcy she afforded me, especially after getting basically dumped. Something was wrong with my head. Not only that, but she'd be able to read me really easily. Hopefully she hadn't already seen through me, but if the last two weeks and yesterday had confirmed anything, it was that Maylene was as clueless as I was, so things were probably going to be okay. Stalling would work. If she knew she was in love with me, there was just no way she'd consistently act the way she did. Not only that, but there was the possibility she was as dense as the one in the Virtuous timeline was. And why not? She'd somehow fallen for me, so maybe things would remain consistent.

Not like I could do anything about it anyway, so I'd rather reassure myself with these meaningless platitudes.

I placed my phone screen down against the table, dragging it into my pocket without wanting to see it any longer. After a long exhale, I looked around at my team and spoke up. "Let's go get Princess."



It was difficult not to be anxious when I took my first step in the Pokemon Center. Silly worries of running across Cecilia swirled around my mind. They were meaningless; there was just no way she would have chosen this one when she knew my Pokemon were in here. Sure, hers were in here as well, but she'd most likely chosen one as far away from me as possible to minimize the chance of us crossing paths. Knowing her, she'd picked one closer to the port where the busiest part of the city was.

My mind wasn't very rational lately, so I'd still prepared something I'd say in my head should we meet. It wouldn't be begging to get her back, not anymore, but an apology for some of the things I'd said yesterday night and a promise to try to do better.

Maybe tell her I loved her again.

Wait. Had I forgotten to say that yesterday?

I scrounged through my memories of our fight despite how painful it was and realized I had. She had remembered, but I hadn't said anything. I hadn't… what if that had been my last opportunity to ever tell her that? Pain struck my chest, and breathing grew more and more difficult and shallow. Should I text her that? No, that would be pathetic. Would it be? Would the patheticness outweigh how terrible not telling her that I loved her too was? Maybe if I told her—

"Ms. Pastel?"

One of the Joys had come out in front carrying Princess' Pokeball in a tray, and she'd obviously noticed me breaking down in tears in public.

"I'm fine, thanks," I sobbed and grabbed the ball. At least no one was here to see me; it'd be humiliating otherwise. "Just thinking about stuff, it doesn't matter."

She placed a hand on my upper arm and squeezed. "I want you to know that our doors are always open to speak, okay? About anything. Don't hesitate." She gave me a polite smile and returned to her post with her tray.

I'd had a Nurse Joy therapist once, in Floaroma and for a few weeks online. I wondered if she was doing fine. After wiping my tears and washing my face in the bathroom, I nearly ran out of the Pokemon Center, making my way up north with Honey by my side. The electric type was luckily too excited at the prospect to see his sister again to notice I'd cried.

It was too late for regrets. I just had to keep walking. Keep walking. Keep walking.

When I regained my awareness, I was at the edge of the city up north, the perfect area to meet Princess again. Honey was back into his ball, too. Sure, I'd spent the last forty minutes on autopilot or so, but at least it was easier to breathe now. Even here, at the edge of the League; the boundary between civilization and the wild, buildings were tightly packed, though most of these were empty. Houses and apartments to be rented out for the summer by the government to civilians to make up for the massive costs of running the Conference. Not only did it make them money, but the last thing they wanted was to run out of housing space. It had happened before a few years back and that had been a hassle for them to deal with.

As soon as I was out of city delimitations, I clasped tightly Princess' Pokeball in my hands. Worn down from a year's use and so much time in the wild, there were little chips in the paint. It was the same for all of my Pokeballs save for Cass' and Mimi's. Some trainers liked to keep their Pokeballs new, often swapping to more expensive models like Ultra Balls when they could afford to like my Poketch colleague Ramon. Others like Craig and I just got attached to these.

They were our first, and it was easy to get sentimental about that.

Princess's fur glimmered in the sun when I released her, and she shook herself as she slowly opened her eyes. Stretching her wings, yawning with a high-pitched whine that was still somehow soothing to my frayed nerves. Her veneer of royalty quickly disintegrated when she noticed I was here and she wasn't in the Center again. Her eyes widened, disbelieving, and tears accumulated in the corner of her eyes. I crouched with my arms wide open and the largest smile I could muster—

"Ack!"

She tackled me back with an elated squeal, saying 'mother' over and over again. I was pretty sure she'd bruised my ribs, though I was too happy to care. I stroked the back of her head as she snuggled against my skin and told me how much she missed me.

"Oh, my little Princess," I gushed as I put my hands around her. "I missed you so, so much."

Needless to say, we stayed like this for a while. The spoiled little baby complained about her treatment from the nurses, not because they'd actually been abusive or hurtful in any manner, but because this was the longest she'd gone without seeing me and she had demanded to be let out early. I, the clear paragon of stability that I was, softly told her that they were just doing their jobs and making sure she was safe from any long-term effects of Glalie's ice. The ice type had done a number on her while she'd bought time for us to deal with the rest of Saturn's team, and he'd used Regice's power.

But then, Princess asked what she'd missed, and that meant starting from Coronet after Saturn. If I wanted to do the story justice; if I wanted to tell her everything, I'd need a lot more time and a better setting than this—

No. No, she deserved to know, and now. I slowly explained it all to her, telling my daughter the story in full— that included skimming over the Distortion World. As much as it pained to say, I'd rather have nightmares about Cecilia leaving me for someone else than have to relive through that nearly every single night. The mere act of describing it filled me with a sense of impending dread that had me breaking into a cold sweat by the end.

That meant I needed a break. And a break meant Princess seeing her family again.

I released the rest of the team, and the welcome backs were as warm as I'd expected them to be. Sweetheart clammored for her older sister, though I had to warn her about her strength so she didn't accidentally crush the Togekiss under her suffocating hug. Honey started with a teasing welcome: a jolt of electricity as soon as they touched. That made her throw a bunch of mud on his face that Cass helpfully cleaned off with their own Ancient Power, garnering some of Princess' ire until the playful tension broke. With a huff, she declared she couldn't stay disappointed in her faithful student for that long. Even Buddy joined in the pranks, getting the side of her wing a little wet with a spray of cold water. Electivire cackled, a finger pointed at her until she threatened to lovingly end his bloodline.

All jokes, of course. They loved each other. In fact, he teased back that he had no bloodline, mimicking her haughty tone in a mocking manner.

I tapped Mimi awake, and the steel type made a gurgling, metallic scream at the sight of Princess. Sure, they had missed her, but the first thing they did was demand to ride her for a flight to see more of the world. Sweetheart jealously grabbed them and said she'd be a better sister until both her and Princess started bickering about who'd take better care of Mimi. They'd kind of inserted themselves as the team's baby, though I knew they mostly did it to be spoiled.

Jellicent struck from nowhere, saying that if Princess wanted to play at being mother she'd do well to eat her veggies without whining for thirty minutes straight.

Yeah. I'd let them hang out together a little before our flight.



I held myself steady on top of Princess, who slowly floated up without so much as a single motion of her wings. Then came a small wobble, as if she was no longer used to flying. Before I could even speak, she haughtily said things were fine; she just needed to shake the rust off. She had, after all, spent a long time held still in a Pokemon Center between the care of the nurses and her Pokeball. My fingers ran over her head, gently stroking her fur as she got more and more comfortable with hovering in the air.

"Getting the hang of it now?" I smiled at her even though she couldn't see. Princess nodded, landing again softly against the ground. "Ready?"

Her wings shivered in excitement. She turned her neck slightly to her left, side-eyeing me before telling me to brace myself. I gripped at the saddle and patted her back one more time.

She pushed herself up so fast that my innards felt like they were being squished down. Within seconds, we were high in the sky above the League. The world fell beneath us, now rendered small and insignificant in the face of the greatness that was the freedom afforded through flight. For a moment, my body felt alive. That tiny jolt of fear at the fact that you weren't made to be up here before your brain adapted and remembered you were safe. Each breath was cold and dry. Reinvigorating. My hair which I'd forgotten to tie up whipped around my face, and the wind clapped in my ears. It was so intimate, the way it surrounded your very being as if you were at its mercy. Princess laughed, climbing ever higher until we were past the ring of League patrols making sure the skies were clear, until the air grew thin and the orange evening sky seemed close enough to touch. Princess flew right below a cloud, allowing me to raise my hand to run it through. It was cold and wet and humid and I could barely feel my fingers by the end of it, yet I was grinning either way. My daughter zoomed past the Lily of the Valley Island, reaching the ocean. Neither of us knew where we were going— I did not know if this was north, south, east or west. This freedom; my ankles unchained from the human worries in the world below; the burdens of life gone with the snap of a finger. It was liberating, it was salvation; flight was magic. Enough to bring me to the point of tears that froze before they could fall off my face.

It did not last.

The human mind could adapt to much. Exhilaration at flying was one of those things. It was nearly gone by the time we reached another coast— somewhere north of Veilstone, if I had to guess from the rocky, grey shores and how Coronet stretched even higher than we were far in the distance, turned into a vague blue by the atmosphere's hue. I remained far happier than I'd been hours ago, steady enough within to face the rest of the day, but the realization that my problems were so small and yet had still hit me like a truck was a lot. The reframing of issues was a helpful beat. The world was beautiful enough to take joy in the small things, the world was saved and nearly all the people I loved alive. It could have been so much worse.

But when I landed, I would still be poison to Cecilia's mind. I would still remain a tool awaiting a purpose or another story to insert myself into. I would still remain embroiled in whatever the hell was happening with Maylene. I would still need to try to learn to enjoy the little things in life, as Jasmine had told me. Flying was a good start with that one, but it was the first step of many.

Still;

"The sunset's beautiful…" I muttered, my voice inaudible due to the wind and the deafness in my ear.

It was a masterpiece of colors not unlike what I'd sometimes see with my empathy. As the sun dipped behind the western slopes of Coronet, the towering peak stood silhouetted against a canvas of vibrant hues— fiery oranges and deep purples blending seamlessly with soft pinks and golds. Wisps of clouds caught the light, glowing and bending the light across the horizon. In just a few minutes, darkness would be cast across this side of Coronet.

I leaned close to Princess, telling her to turn back toward a route. The last thing I wanted was to land off-route without my entire family there to defend me, and even then, it'd be best to avoid it entirely when unnecessary. It took me a few minutes to orient myself and figure out where exactly we'd ended up. Somewhere south of Veilstone. That smooth concrete road running down south was unmistakable.

It was, however, a route that held too many memories for me. The difference between this and the two Starly was that this path echoed with the past. So many times, we'd come here to train and share moments together, and I didn't want it sullied with the current and hopefully temporary state of affairs between us. After settling on the route to Sunyshore, Princess landed on the beach with tired breaths. She'd really pushed herself, for a Pokemon right out of the Center. My legs swung over her, and I hopped on the sandy ground.

It still felt like I was moving, so it proved somewhat difficult to keep my balance. Like getting off a boat after a long ride.

"Thank you, Princess. You were flawless in the sky, as always," I cupped her chin and scratched it, and she said she'd do even better on the way back to make me happy. "Oh, you sweet little thing." My arms wrapped around her as best I could. "My baby's back. Of course, I'm happy."

She nuzzled her face in my chest and we watched the ocean for a good while. The waves crashing against the darkening beach. I used the opportunity to further catch her up on what had been going on lately, this time focusing on the post-Galactic events. Of course, she already knew a bunch of things, but most were disjointed things I'd just blurted out, like being on break with Cece or Craig dying. There was no point if it wasn't told to her properly.

Eventually, one would run out of words. When that happened, we sat in silence for a while against each other in total darkness save for the bright red flames Princess had dancing around us. It was as if we were on an island of light and we were the only two people in the entire world. Us on a beach. Maybe if I had the rest of my Pokemon with me, it wouldn't be so bad. I hurt everything I touched, anyway—

I noticed how Princess was looking at me, wings tightly wound and eyes shadowed with worry.

No. There would be no catastrophizing nor spiraling tonight. An idea to improve the mood sprang in my mind. I patted the top of her head, lulling her into a false sense of security until I sprinkled sand on top of her head—

Sand below my feet jumped at me as if it had a mind of its own. "Wha— puh!" Some of it had even gotten in my mouth! That little— "You're in big trouble, young lady!" I dug my fingers into the shallow beach and threw sand at her too, but it seemingly slipped off her fur as if she was meant to stay pure. "That's so unfair!" I groaned. She threw another ball of sand at me, which I blocked with my hand, but it hit my wrist, meaning Mimi, who dissolved into goop before reforming on the floor.

Princess laughed with a wing in front of her mouth, saying I'd been the one to start it as soon as the steel type complained. Princess followed up by calling Mimi to her side, and they wobbled over—

"Mimi!" I gasped at the sheer treason. "You sleep on my wrist or neck all day and this is what I get?!"

They shrugged and jumped into Princess' fur, burying themselves under it. Like it was a giant blanket that, I had to admit, looked comfortable.

I, however, had a trick up my sleeve.

With a motion of my hand faster than I thought it'd ever be, the rest of my team appeared around me. They were confused, at first, and Honey's subtle glow along with Cass' shining eyes was welcome this late at night. Princess blinked, calling me an unfair traitor. She knew what was coming.

"Guys, I think Princess needs to be knocked down a peg. Cover her body in sand!"

Somehow, the game might have devolved into a free for all that reshaped the landscape. Honey, traitor that he was, joined in with his little sister to fight Sweetheart and I. Cass was with me, of course, and they stopped me from being seriously hurt at least ten times that night. Buddy had been forced to join the other side due to ours having two Pokemon so good with ground TE, and he got surprisingly into it, even if he started to rule lawyer us when they began to lose.

The point was that there were no rules!

I was certain I'd heard Mesprit giggle in the back of my mind at some point, too. I wished they could have joined us, but I'd go visit them when I went to my mom's. I knew they were staying quiet right now in order not to… wound me with their words, which could sometimes be ruthless.

The game might have also gotten a pair of rangers to check us out due to a noise complaint.

Sweetheart was really loud. They must have been really confused when they came up to a team of Pokemon covered in sand.



If there was one thing to be said about heartbreaks, it was that while one day could slowly ramp up and end fine, the next could be the opposite. Today had started out well, with me keeping busy by spending time with my team. Hell, I'd even gotten over the desperate urge to leave this place and put on a couple of my old battles on the television for my Pokemon and I to look at and reminisce. Arceus, my eyes were so innocent, especially before Solaceon; before the world had wounded me irreparably and launched me down this path. Of course, I skipped over Maylene's battle, much to Princess' displeasure. It was easy to pick out mistakes now despite my older self thinking this was as close to perfect as I could get at the time. I was too tired and lazy to actually vocalize these flaws, so I let my Pokemon do the work. Most efforts were led by Princess, who kept screaming at herself in the TV every time she fumbled something. Even Sweetheart got to watch, though we'd needed to put her on a giant stack of pillows and blankets and she needed to not move off from there, lest she make a hole in the ground or something and fall through.

But then, once I decided to pick up a snack, I saw this random pineapple candy in the pantry and my mood cratered in an instant. 'Cecilia loves pineapple' turned into memory of her eating that candy, and that led into her smiling at the taste of the candy—

The energy evaporated from my body like water poured onto Sunshine's shell, and I decided that was the end of everything that day. I allowed my Pokemon to stay out so long as Buddy watched Sweetheart so she behaved, but my words at that point were more of an incoherent whisper. I called for Princess before collapsing on our— my bed. Cece's side of the bed. It still smelled like her. Breathing through the fabric was difficult, but it wasn't like I felt like moving. I felt another weight on the mattress; Princess snuggled in close to me and said she'd warded off the others for now, but that they were worried. They thought I'd been improving.

"Let's just stay in bed and do nothing all day," I mumbled through the mattress, ignoring her.

She asked me about eating, about getting some sun by going on a flight, and about a million other things that went in one ear and out the other. If I didn't do anything, look at anything, remember anything, then maybe I'd stop reminiscing about her.

"I'm sorry; I'll try to do better tomorrow."

She let out an annoyed huff, but recognized that was the end of that. My arms wrapped around her, dragging her closer until there was no space left between us.

We stayed like this for… I didn't remember how long as I clinged to my couple's ring we'd gotten in Sunyshore. Sweat eventually soaked into the bedsheets because of how tightly bundled I was, but my body wouldn't move. Time passed so quickly, when you did nothing. Rotting in bed barely even helped me not think about Cecilia, given that I kept thinking about how today was going with Maylene. I had turned off my phone so I wouldn't see any texts from her or anyone else. My good times were unfortunately interrupted by the doorbell; who the hell was even here?

No energy to go check.

"Can you tell your siblings not to open the door? Thanks—"

The bell rang again at least ten times in quick succession, causing me to cover my head with a pillow. Princess floated away from the bedroom, and around a minute later I heard the door open— Arceus fucking damn it.

Guess I'd have to face the music.

I dragged myself up on the bed, nearly breaking down at how difficult it was to even do that. The funny thing about breaking down is that it could come in the form of crying laughter, which meant that when a particular redhead showed herself in the room, I was sob-laughing with my face in my hands.

"Oh. Uh, awkward? Legendaries, it's dark in here." Pauline walked up to the bed, wrinkling her nose. "Have you opened a window— you know what, nevermind," she sighed, sitting down at the foot of the bed. "Grace. Cecilia told me about what happened this morning."

She had? That must have been after I turned my phone off, unless it wasn't in the group chat. Actually, that made a lot more sense; there was no way she was going to text a group chat I was in. Did they have one without me?

"What's up?" I got a good look at her. She usually never let her hair get this long, but it was tied up in a messy updo with loose strands she could still twirl around her finger. "Where's Emilia?"

Her twirling finger slowed. "She was with Cecilia for a while, but your gal had to leave for Veilstone to help the Gym Leader with some stuff, like you both usually do. Kind of wild to me considering your history, but you do you."

"Did she tell you… why?" I asked.

"Why you're on break? Codependency stuff again, isn't it?" She scooted a little closer, allowing me to see the wide open door. Mimi crawled into the bedroom until something wrested them away, leaving tiny sparks behind them, and Cass' massive head poked out of the doorframe. Meanwhile, I could hear Sweetheart in the living room asking what we were saying. They were all horrible at spying. "She wouldn't go into much detail— God, you don't have to look so relieved at that!" Pauline flicked my forehead.

I covered my forehead with both hands. "Ow! What was that for?!"

"For not keeping up with me, gremlin." There was a sudden fondness within me at the old nickname. "You're in a sorry state right now, so yours truly will forgive you. Having to deal with the aftermath of Coronet and now this, but this is a one time deal."

"Ugh. Fine, sorry for not speaking much outside of hospital visits. Happy?"

"Words you don't mean are better than nothing. I won't get on your ass over it; I know things difficult and that you're trying, okay?" She touched my wrist and squeezed. "I guess it's hard seeing people turn away from me when… well, I've never been the best at helping. I kind of mess up everything, but I still want to try, you know? They don't say 'do your best' for no reason."

I watched her silently, then nodded.

"Not the talkative sort today, hm? I get it." She had a purse with her that she opened on her lap. "I bought you a bunch of tea; I don't really know which ones you like, so I kind of filled my bag with them." She pulled a package out, the rustling of the paper filling the quiet space between us. "This one's chamomile; I thought it might help you relax if you're anxious. Or that's what the clerk said," she nervously laughed.

"Oh. Tea actually sounds really nice right now…" I whispered. "Could you…?"

Pauline pointed at herself with widening eyes. "Me? Grace, you know I can't handle kitchens for shit."

It was true that she'd never handled any of the food-related duties on the road when we'd traveled together. Frowning, I replied, "I mean, I won't get on your case because you bought these for me and it's a huge favor, but it's literally just heating up water."

"I'd mess it up somehow. I have people for that; even mommy doesn't know how to make anything, so I never learned."

"Just give it to Honey. Thanks a lot, by the way." Already, I was finding it easier to speak a smidge louder.

"No prob!" She grinned, and when she walked out the door, Honey had to awkwardly act like he'd just been passing by. It looked like the others had thrown him under the bus. "Do you want to vent to me? I don't think I'd have great advice, but I'm a good listener these days. Some might say I'm the best," she joked. This time, Pauline was leaning against the massive closet with her arms crossed.

I wasn't willing to tell her everything. One, it was mighty embarrassing and I'd probably cry again, and two, I wasn't sure Cecilia would be okay with that. "I guess… this might sound a little harsh."

"Shoot. I'm a big girl, I can take it." She brought up her arm and flexed as a joke.

"So I mean, how did you handle…" I gestured weirdly at her. "Everything collapsing under your feet with Emilia and Denzel."

"Ahh." She glanced up at the ceiling with a misty-eyed look. "I mean, there was never a big fight like you both had. It kind of just fizzled out without anyone having a talk about it, but it wasn't like we had much time for that stuff," she said with a heavy breath. "I was kind of in denial about it, hoping we could fix it when Team Galactic was over, but I guess not."

"Did you try?" I asked.

"I mean, Denzel's asleep, but even if he wasn't it's not like it'd work. You don't try something that failed again without changing anything, and really neither of them were really that into it. They tried, especially in Sunyshore and when we traveled to Pastoria, but nothing ever sparked. They're good friends— really good friends before Pastoria— but that wasn't enough. Even ignoring how Denzel and I fucked up at various times and the pressures of Galactic, the relationship probably would have limped along and dissolved eventually." Again, she started twirling a strand of hair around her finger. The closet doors creaked behind her. "I spoke to her recently about if we could try again, just the two of us, if I spoke to Denzel when he woke up and told him about it, but nah. Doesn't look like it's in the cards."

"Doesn't that— doesn't that crush you?" How was she even here talking to me right now? How was she not staying in bed all day, crying her heart out?

She leaned forward, the pain now obvious in her eyes. "Of course, it does. I fucked up something great with the greatest girl and guy I know because I couldn't choose and I tried to stick them together as if that'd fix everything." She shrugged. "Life goes on, at the end of the day. It's time to grow up." Pauline jutted a hand forward. "Not that I'm minimizing your problems. It's just, like… sorry, I'm still rash with words."

Somehow, this had ended up with her talking instead of me, but it was helping somewhat. Come to think of it, she'd denied Denzel at some point when he confessed and they'd kept being friends. What made me think Maylene wouldn't?

Right. Denzel was often just the gold standard of a human being, meaning he needed no time away like Louis did. Meanwhile I'd been plagued by fear, indecisiveness, possessiveness, terrified that she would leave me. Yet I felt like if I was in the same position with Maylene on top of me today, I'd talk to her about it right away. Unfortunately, time only went in one direction for us mortals, and now I was stuck in this rut. After Cecilia came back from her trip, I would tell Maylene. This way, the Gym Leader would have her to fall back on in case it hurt her more than I thought.

I… had to.

"Wow, I guess I struck a nerve. My bad," Pauline apologized.

"No, no," I said. "Go on."

The tea kettle whistled in the distance. "Okay," she softly said. "This is gonna sound really corny, and I'm not usually one for cringe bullshit, but hear me out." She waited for a signal, so I nodded in response. "No matter what we end up as in the future when we're adults— Close friends, normal friends or heavens forbid, acquaintances who see each other like once a year, ugh." She sneered, shaking her head to chase those thoughts. "What we shared with each other, the batshit crazy experiences we went through, ill or good?" Pauline looked down at her hand and clenched it into a fist. "Those will be ours. You know when you just get someone in a way that's like knowing the back of your hand? You don't have to be dating to share that. Not that I'm saying your relationship is toast like mine!"

"I know, I know." Sighing, I looked at Honey slowly trudging into the room and straightened my back. The electric type handed me the teacup, warning about the heat. "Thanks, kiddo." He left quickly after that, even though no one had asked him to. I blew on the tea, inhaling its comfortable aroma and continued. "What you said." Pauline and I locked eyes. "I get that. I get that very well. The problem is… I guess you could say we did too much together and I got addicted."

"I thought it was cute, looking from the outside," Pauline said. "But I mean, Emilia and I spent all the time together and she was so dependent on me. To dependent to speak up for herself, to talk to her parents, to even go outside in crowds sometimes. But then, she left and found her own way, right? Contests, content creation, hell, she investigated corruption in the industry on her own! That's her most viewed video! I watched it a million times." The redhead grinned. There was no denying it, she still loved her, but she was strong enough to attempt to move on. "See where I'm getting at?"

"I know Cecilia was right," I mumbled under my breath. "I just don't know how she's so strong and already out and about. Doing things."

"You were out yesterday, weren't you? You were spotted next to Sunyshore; we all heard about it."

"Damn it. I can't do anything without people going crazy these days," I complained after clicking my tongue. "And I did nothing all of today. She's already moving on…"

"And according to her, she did nothing yesterday but stay in a dark musty Pokemon Center room, and if it hadn't been for her Pokemon, she would have come back—" Pauline sucked in air through her teeth. "Wasn't supposed to say that. But don't do all of this morose 'she's better off without me' bs." Pauline waved a hand dismissively. "You just gotta learn how to function without each other."

"Right." I sipped on my tea and nearly burned my tongue. "I'm trying. It's just… hard. I look at everything around here and it all reminds me of her. I can't even go five minutes before she pops up in my head again and I get depressed. At least today. Like, the reason I was doing nothing in bed was because I saw this pineapple candy she loves. I mean, she loves pineapple in general, but she really likes that candy; it's a Unovan brand."

Pauline scoffed. "Pineapple? She likes feeling her tongue get shredded by acid? Arceus, what a weirdo."

I placed a hand over my mouth to snort. "I know right?"

Once Pauline realized the conversation slowed, she smirked. "So, uh, wanna play cards?" She pulled out a pack from her bag. "We could gamble some money over whatever game. Sounds fun, doesn't it?"

"I'll be honest, I'm not feeling it, but we might as well try, I guess. Without the gambling, because I'm not exactly financially secure." I had no idea what would happen with Poketch if I didn't make it to the Conference, so I needed to save every penny. Sure, I had signed a contract, but realistically if they went against me, they'd just be able to outlast me with an army of lawyers at their beck and call. I wouldn't even have Mel anymore.

After settling on Crazy Eights, Pauline continued talking about her own experiences in a bid to help me with mine. Along the way, it sort of turned into a venting session for the both of us.

"You know, like five months ago I'd daydream about traveling with Denzel and Emi, just the three of us for a whole year," she said with a saddened look as she browsed her cards. "I figured Hoenn would be a good pick. Birthplace of Pokemon Contests, the biggest scene and all of that." She placed an eight of hearts above a two of hearts. "Dreams are dreams, though."

"What are you gonna do now, then?" I drew from the pile; I'd gotten seriously unlucky when she only had three left. "Another Circuit next year? You can get to eight badges, I'm sure of it. You're a little simple as a fighter outside of your Gothitelle, so you'd have to change that if you want your eighth, but you'd have a whole year to figure it out."

"I dunno, I'd have to think about it. Consult my team and the like," she said with a shrug. "These days… what do I even do? Meditate, train, yell at Denzel's parents so they let us visit, but like, what comes after that, when we're all out of here?"

I frowned. "You like battling, don't you?"

"Oh, I love it," she grinned. "And the way it makes me feel. But it's like, a hobby. It's not what I'm gonna be doing the rest of my life, you know? My mother's been trying to get me to handle the Sandgem branch of the company. Small, low stakes, easy to rack up experience. I'm thinking I take the offer."

My heart sank. "But why?"

"I mean, it's like Louis playing volleyball in school, right? He loved it, but he didn't make it his job. I gotta get ready for real life and stuff. Mommy's getting old; she wants to retire and enjoy life. If I can rack up a few years of experience, I'll be able to take over. Fashion's always been my number one passion." She scratched her cheek. "You gonna play?"

Oh. I had forgotten to keep drawing. It took three more cards to be able to play an eight of spades, to which Pauline made a little cheer. "I guess… I don't get it?" Even in this state, with all my motivation gone, I couldn't imagine putting battling out of my life forever. I was hoping, deep down, that I'd get my passion back sooner rather than later, and I had even planned to go attempt to train later today before getting hit by depression. "I thought you'd be at it for a few years. Attempt the Conference at least once to get the full trainer experience."

"I thought so too," she spoke with a saddened smile. "Turns out most of the fun came from traveling with you people, but what else is left? Denzel's going to be in chronic pain when he wakes up and probably won't be able to do any of this shit for months, and even then it'd be weird between us; Emilia's going to refocus on herself and set up camp in Hearthome soon; Justin is dead; Maeve's an entirely different person and seemingly wants nothing to do with us; I don't even know Mira's deal; Chase and I would kill each other and he can't walk anymore; you and Cecilia are leaving… you are leaving, right? Even if you aren't back together by the end of the summer?"

I gave it some thought for a few moments as Pauline slammed an ace of spades on the card pile with an exaggerated hoot, as if this game wasn't pure luck, anyway. Always so extra, this one. "I am, yeah. I have a calling there," I said, thinking of that mysterious Pokemon whisperer. Even then, doing good would help. Looking back, the emotional turmoil Swoobat had warned me about was obvious now. "And you know, I have Poketch obligations."

"True enough."

"Gotta sell those damn phones," I chuckled. "And laptops. And watches. And everything else."

Needless to say Pauline won the card game. She stuck around for another few hours before she had to head back and feed her team. Maybe she'd go and battle some League Trainers if she had time as well; apparently they were allowed to battle to train. Part of those lax rules was why Sinnoh's armed forces were known to go for a quality over quantity approach, at least according to her. There was so much experience I could soak up here—

Oh. Nevermind. I was probably better at killing anything than any of them.

"What are you saying?" I quietly chastised myself. "You won't need to kill anything anymore. Probably."

And finally, at the grand hour of six in the evening, just when I gathered the energy to stand up and shower with Buddy's help, someone else rang the doorbell. At first, I thought Pauline had forgotten something, but as it turned out, Emilia had come to visit, now. There was a spring in her step that had been missing in everyone else, and she carried herself like she had a good head on her shoulders. Her nose piercing glinted under the lights Honey had turned on, and she smiled at me. It was like I was looking at a well-put together adult instead of… well, a kid who had no idea what would come next.

She wrapped me in a tight hug. "Ooh, you might need to shower. I heard the bad news from Cecilia; I'm sorry."

"Where's Pauline? Did— did you two coordinate this?! Is this an intervention?"

"Come on, we aren't tied at the hip, you know? I didn't even know she was supposed to come here, I thought she'd either be at Denzel's or down in the city with her team fighting some League Trainers on break like usual."

Damn. She was right on the money.

"I just came to check in on you." She looked around the apartment, greeting my Pokemon one by one, though she had a confused look when she saw a dent next to the couch.

"That's Sweetheart— she had an accident with her tail, so I had to recall her. The League will fix it."

"Oh, Legendaries. You have her out indoors?" She laughed, cackling so hard she complained her stomach hurt. "I'm sorry, I know you need them to help you, Grace; it's just so you."

I shuffled in place, a little ashamed of myself. "Don't make fun of me."

"I won't, don't worry. It just took me off-guard, you know? Do you want to sit?"

I squinted at her suspiciously before nodding. "Are you here for advice?"

"I am; I guess Pauline got here first, though. I was busy today helping Louis with some extra stuff for the funeral. You know how I used to plan parties?" Emilia stepped around the couch, smirking at the dent in the floor. "You're gonna have to stop this kind of stuff in Unova, you know that, right?" she gently warned. "No more League to bail you out. You'd actually need to pay for damages and it'd have a seriously bad effect on your image." She sat down, hands below her so her dress wouldn't crease or bend.

"I know, I know." God, if the League hadn't had my back all these months I'd be in prison for life at this point. I plopped myself down the couch, fidgeting nervously with my fingers. "So?"

"So." Emi cleared her throat. "I've been made aware of…" she vaguely gestured at me. "Your situation in detail."

"In detail?" She'd told Emilia everything, but not Pauline?

"Well, as it stands, Cecilia believes she is in a similar position I was in, though she says you're not actually in love? It's strange, because to me it sounds like love in everything but in name and I do think if it is, you should tell Cecilia right away, but hey, I'm not in your head. I'll believe you."

I exhaled in relief and stopped gripping the edges of the couch. If I needed to explain this for a millionth time this was platonic, I was going to blow up. "Any words of advice? I know the best I can do is to hunker down and try to be better. How did you do it? You were so dependent on Pauline."

She closed her eyes, recalling the past with a melancholic look. "Yes. Yes, I was. But not anything as bad as this, with the high stakes you both went through and whatnot. I'm not qualified for this, but here's what I told Cecilia: you have to have a life outside of your partner!" Emi was talking more akin to a teacher than anything else. "Look, before Contests and I made new friends and acquaintances, it was all Pauline, Pauline, Pauline. The thing is, it's tough with all of us because we're all so… tightly knit, right? We all know each other and all spend time together all the time, even now, like a monstrous amalgamation of trauma unable to separate. Honestly, we're all kind of co-dependent on each other. We could use a little more time apart."

"Hmhm." That was true enough.

The Coordinator held out a finger. "Hobbies. You've got battling, training and watching battles et cetera, but you used to do all of that together, even if you added in some people sometimes." Then, a second one. "With piano, she was the one who taught you how to play, and now that you do know, you don't really do it anymore because you're so focused on her." Finally, a third finger. "Pokemon rights? That's yours." She pointed at my heart. "You were actually starting to know people outside of our circle in Pastoria when you volunteered. It's too bad that… well, you know, the raid happened."

I brought my legs up on the couch and hugged my knees. "You sure got wise."

She flicked her chestnut hair back like Pauline used to do. "Well, I'm no flawless girl; this is just my input on things. I know putting it in action is a lot harder than acknowledging the problem. Which you've now both done, so great!" Emi clapped her hands together. "That's the first step to any issue."

Her optimism was honestly a little infectious; it was difficult not to feel slightly invigorated. "My dad kind of had the same idea before we even took that break. I was going to take him up on it." That was partly to avoid Maylene, but I was basically fully on board, now. "Piano lessons, meeting new people and such. Maybe I can make summer friends who have nothing to do with Pokemon. If I remember how to be normal."

What would Cecilia do? Reconnecting with her team was a must, of course, but after that? A cold dread crept up my skin when I realized this was going to take a whole lot longer than our first break after the raid.

"I actually tried to do more Pokemon Rights stuff recently, which intrigued me too," I said, thinking of my meeting with Mallory and Rood. "It was before the fight, but I kind of messed it up."

She snapped her finger, leaned against her palm and grinned at me. "See? You're already doing well, it's just about the little steps."

"I just have to keep walking," I echoed. This time, it was more positive than anything. "Thanks."

Emilia scooted her way next to me, wrapping a hand around my waist in a side-hug. "I know this is tough, okay? But you have to realize this, Grace. Cecilia sees you as her entire universe. You came out of nowhere and offered her a hand when we were either too scared to act, ignorant children or in on our parents' schemes. You pulled her out of a dark place, showed her hope, and essentially became the only person or thing who made her truly happy. For nearly nine months straight. It got even worse after this ghost TE stuff. Honestly, I know this hurts to hear, but it was only a matter of time until something gave."

I would not have said anything if Cecilia hadn't, but Emilia was probably right. While Cece had been worried about losing herself to me, another moment would have made her take the leap.

"Both you and Pauline have been a great help today. I hope all of this works to get me out of bed."

"Well, you're out of bed speaking to me right now, right?" Emilia squeezed my shoulder before letting go. "Here, why don't you take your shower, I'll change your bedsheets and clean around a little bit."

"Sure. Cass can help you."

Emi stared at the looming construct behind us. They were currently harassing Jellicent about his book. Not about the contents, but about what kind of paper it was made of. "Hm. Haven't spoken with them much, but I'll make do," she said.

And hey, I'd even try to shower on my own today.

Not that I told her that out loud. There was a limit to how low I'd let myself look in front of my friends. I reflected on the day as I showered, feeling slightly guilty at the fact that both Pauline and Emilia had immediately come to help me while I'd kept contact to a relative minimum. They were both too good for me—

A knock on the bathroom door made me realize that so much time had passed in an instant. I'd been in the shower, soaking in water and brooding for so long that the skin on my hand was wrinkly. I called back out to Emilia so she wouldn't worry and quickly finished washing (I hadn't even used soap yet). I came out in PJs and both of us stuck together for a little bit. Again, I mostly let her talk about herself. Emi would throw herself fully into Contests next year, this time trying to use her fame online to connect with the best coordinators in the region. Unlike Pokemon Trainers, Coordinators didn't have much of a culture for random, unofficial performances outside of Contest Halls because they didn't want their techniques to leak before any future contests. It was as if every coordinator was as paranoid as Craig had been.

"I don't care for it," Emilia said with a shrug. "I'm not good enough to win enough ribbons to make it to the Grand Festival anyway. The curve is like, exponential." Speaking of, the Grand Festival this year was fully canceled, which was the first time that had happened since that apocalyptic weather event in Hoenn when I was a kid. Even the waters in Sinnoh got agitated enough to have mild flood warnings down the southern coast. "I'll rack up as much experience as I can and distill it all at the end of next year to start my true run on my third. That's when I'll be aiming for the Grand Festival."

"Will people even accept your challenges?"

"Probably not at the start," she admitted. "I'm hoping to use my platform to start a movement with people in my predicament— the ones who aren't good enough to win a ribbon from the top dogs. Maybe Denzel can help; his reach is bigger than mine."

First Louis and Chase, now Pauline and her. Everyone was moving on with their own goals while I was stuck down here in the mud. It was a little shameful; the type that makes you want to berate yourself for being so useless.

"Arceus, I hope he can handle the pain when he wakes up," Emilia added, hands tense on her lap.

"Yeah…"

She checked her watch (for some reason, she was the only person I knew who still wore an analog watch sometimes) and gasped. "Hey, it's nearly eleven pm. I should probably go."

"I get it. No need to look so apologetic." Her face had contorted as if she'd looked for an excuse. I knew it was probably exhausting to keep me on the right path when she had other things to do. "Thanks for stopping by."

"And hey, whatever I said here about Cece," she said in a cautionary tone. "It applies to Maylene Suzuki as well. Don't use her as a temporary crutch to fill the gap left by Cecilia's absence. That would be the way to turn this break into an actual break up, and it'd take advantage of the girl who has a crush on you."

"I'm already keeping my distance— relax, I'm not ghosting her!" I could tell the retort had been coming from a mile away. Innocently, I raised my arms. "I'm just distancing myself. I'll still help her out when Cece leaves if she needs it. She's been doing great lately, so…" I trailed off and kicked the floor. "Plus, I'll be in Jubilife. That's a little far away to be Teleporting back and forth with limited Kadabra." Sighing, I continued, "I plan on having an honest conversation about things when Cecilia comes back."

Emilia nodded. "Good. Finally being honest is good. If you feel yourself slipping up around her, then you'll need to do it earlier. You're…" she looked me up and down. "Emotionally vulnerable right now. You could make a mistake while you're not thinking."

"Like?"

Emilia was near my front door, now. "It could be as simple as giving her more signs— I know you crave physical contact. You were fidgeting around me like you wanted to hug me." Damn, she was spot on. I must have been really obvious about it. "I'd do it, but it'd feel wrong, you know? I don't want to be a substitute for Cecilia." Honestly, it'd probably be disappointing for me as well. "Anyway, it's possible you'd ask her to cuddle, or, I don't know, accidentally tell her 'I love you?' when she'd most likely just be a short rebound until your girlfriend came back? Or tell her that platonically like you do to us by mistake? Accidentally kiss her? There are a lot of ways this can go wrong; you're kind of a mess."

My nails dug into my palms, and I felt my jaw clench in outrage. "For the last time, I know I'm fucked up, but one, I don't want to do any of that, and two, I'm not straight up evil—"

Her face fell. "Oh. I'm sorry, I— it was just a genuine warning. It felt like since you were avoiding her so much, you yourself felt like you might make a mistake— yeah, I won't bring it up again."

My muscles relaxed, though the anger ended up leaving me mildly sweaty again. Great. After I'd spent all that energy to shower. "I'd like that, thanks."

The silence that followed was mildly awkward, so she ended it with a short wave. "I'll see you… probably not tomorrow, but the day after unless they wake Denzel up. We can text though, and don't hesitate if you need anything."

Legendaries, I appreciated her, but it felt miserable to be doubted this much. "Yeah, I will. Thanks for stopping by."

As soon as my friend left, I sat down with my old, tattered notebook I used to write on regarding battles, repeatedly tapping a pencil against my lips. All of my Pokemon— even Buddy— looked on with excitement, though they acted as if they didn't. Honey even started whistling like we were in a cartoon.

It was going to be slow. It was probably going to all be scrapped when I was in a better state of mind weeks from now.

But it was time to brainstorm new techniques for the team.



I woke up the next day bright in the morning from my phone blowing up.

Denzel had been brought back from his coma.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A.
 
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Chapter 325
Togekiss/Princess (Hustle) - Pound, Sweet Kiss, Growl, Headbutt, Fairy Wind, Ancient Power, Extrasensory, Thunder Wave, Air Cutter, Wish, Psychic, Shadow Ball, Dazzling Gleam, Moonblast, Charge Beam, Air Slash, Mystical Fire, Tri-Attack, Nasty Plot, Defog

Jellicent/Buddy (Water Absorb) - Bubblebeam, Night Shade, Absorb, Water Sport, Water Pulse, Hex, Poison Sting, Mist, Acid Armor, Shadow Ball, Recover, Brine, Whirlpool, Hydro Pump, Water Spout, Acid, Will-O-Wisp, Ice Beam, Taunt, Scald, Boil, Freeze, Protect, Ice Blade, Rain Dance, Extrasensory

Electivire/Honey (Motor Drive) - Thundershock, Swift, Electric Swift, Thunder Punch, Charge, Leer, Ice Punch, Thunderbolt, Discharge, Fire Punch, Protect, Cross Chop, Thunder, Low-Kick, Screech, Radiant Leap, Static Shield, Bulldoze, Hammer Arm, Rain Dance, Lightning Bolt

Tangrowth/Angel (Chlorophyll) - Vine Whip, Absorb, Mega Drain, Stun Spore, Bind, Poison Powder, Leech Seed, Ancient Power, Power Whip, Knock Off, Sunny Day, Giga Drain, Sleep Powder, Solar Beam, Solar Blade, Brick Break, Ingrain, Bulldoze

Tyranitar/Sweetheart (Sand Stream) - Leer, Tackle, Horn Attack, Rock Throw, Payback, Stomping Tantrum, Smack Down, Bite, Rock Slide, Crunch, Sandstorm, Iron Defense, Dragon Pulse, Iron Head, Earthbreaker, Aerial Ace, Stone Edge, Dark Pulse, Rock Polish, Surf, Earthquake

Turtonator/Sunshine (Shell Armor) - Smog, Ember, Smokescreen, Incinerate, Iron Defense, Flamethrower, Shell Trap, Dragon Pulse, Bulldoze, Scorching Sands, Rock Tomb, Body Slam, Flash Cannon, Solar Beam, Rapid Spin, Scale Shot, Iron Tail, Focus Blast, Sunny Day, Fire Pillar, Flame Charge, Heat Crash, Fire Blast

Claydol (Levitate) - Mud Slap, Rock Tomb, Rapid Spin, Harden, Confusion, Psychic, Barrier, Imprison, Wide Guard, Light Screen, Reflect, Ancient Power, Teleport

Meltan/Mimi (???) - Not a battler

CHAPTER 325

Fire in his back.

Denzel winced as he shifted slightly in the stiff hospital bed, the sterile sheets offering no comfort. The skin graft stretched taut across his shoulders, a patchwork of agony borne of something that wasn't his. Every breath he took seemed to ignite the raw nerves, sending ripples of pain cascading down his spine. The nurses had told him the pain would subside, that the burning sensation was just a part of the healing process. Hell, they'd even put him on a dose of painkillers that had dulled it to a manageable level, even if they made him feel like his stomach was turning inside out and it withered away all of his hunger.

In the few hours it had been since he'd awoken surrounded by doctors, who had then monitored him to see if he would be stable, Denzel had learned many things. One, since he'd woken up in the first place, the world had evidently been saved— this was the most obvious conclusion, but a huge fucking relief that had him sob the instant he woke up. No matter what lay in front of him now, it was over. Then, a cascade of good news. His friends had all lived through Coronet, as had his Pokemon. Froslass was being looked for in Coronet at the moment, but knowing her, odds were she'd left already and had begun making her way here on her own. Not only that, but the majority of his Pokemon were ready to be picked up from one of the Pokemon Centers on the island, which his dad had gone to pick up with his permission. Only Roserade would remain in the care of the Nurse Joys, but even she'd be healed within the next few days.

It was the little things like that, which could keep him smiling and thinking that life was going to get better from here on out. Honestly, he was just happy to be alive.

But he'd brought up his father, hadn't he? Life wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, even if he'd hopefully never have to worry about anything of this scale ever again. At his side, his mother— Casey Williams— sat by herself, knitting some sort of mitten on her knee. An innocent activity, no doubt, but her mere presence loomed heavily in the room. She'd always had a big personality, and Denzel expected her to scold him any time now.

She hadn't changed since he had last seen her. His mom was somewhat pudgy around the waist, with his same light brown hair and toothless smile showing genuine happiness to be here, a stark contrast to her usual less-than-friendly resting face. She had wrinkles at the side of her eyes and lips. That was new, something Denzel assumed had been brought on by stress. It hurt to see his parents aging. It kind of reminded the teenager they wouldn't be here forever.

She hummed a song quietly, one he recognized from an advertisement for milk on the radio he'd heard countless times growing up. It was one of the tunes that really stuck in someone's head. Denzel occasionally spotted her glancing at him and grinning from ear to ear. She was, he noticed, uncharacteristically quiet. Usually, his mom would be nagging at something. His posture, his messy hair, his ambition— or, you know, the fact that he'd burned off his back. Really, it was odd seeing her just not say anything. Oh, they'd spoken, of course. Denzel had caught up with her, and while she'd tried to get some information out of him with his father, he had refused to give her any.

Casey had retreated after that, which was a welcome, if odd change. Maybe seeing him like this, unable to move without wincing at the pain jolting through his unfamiliar back, had made her turn a new leaf. Or maybe she'd come to terms with his condition after having been there for so long, watching over him

"What's the mitten for?" Denzel's throat rasped with each word. It had been unused for too long, and it was as if his body had forgotten how it felt like to speak. It was alien. "Just curious."

She laughed, hand covering her mouth. It was a tick she'd gotten as a child to hide her crooked teeth before eventually getting them fixed when he was around ten. "It's supposed to be an oven mitt. For the bakery."

"Ohh. Maybe I can help out a little bit; how's business lately?"

Ah, there it was. Her face scrunched up like wrinkled paper. "You shouldn't be standing right now, let alone 'helping out' anywhere; you should focus on your recovery for the foreseeable future."

Those words made him clench his fists, and that pulled slightly on his arms, where his back followed. Another bout of pain, although this one was dull enough to mask. She was right. Denzel knew she was, but she… she could have worded that in a way not so soul-crushing. Yeah, the immense strain of getting entirely new skin on his back meant he wouldn't be able to be independent or out of here for a while. The doctors had already explained it; they had a way of just talking to people that was just so fucking heavy. Like delivering the darkest news of someone's life as if it was just another day, and then immediately moving on to what to do next.

And yeah, it was another day for them. It was work.

Didn't mean it didn't hurt.

The graft would have to be monitored for weeks and taken care of as well. He wasn't just going to walk out of here tomorrow with a piece of candy like a kid going to the dentist. Hell, Denzel was certain that just walking right now would make the pain unbearable. The fabric on his clothes brushing against his back and the mere motion— the act of walking— pulling on it would be too much to bear.

Denzel was just someone who had to keep moving. He had never not done anything. He was always busy to the point that it had nearly blown up his team with Sylvi going crazy. The prospect of being stuck here watching the days go by was a terrifying one.

"That reminds me," she continued, hands working diligently. "I'll need to bring you food over, now. Arceus forbid you're stuck eating that dreary hospital food. You'll lose too much weight. You're still growing."

"Thanks. Can you bring cookies and pastries and stuff? Homemade?" he asked.

Her knitting paused as she considered his request. "I'll do my best. The hotel we're staying at doesn't have an oven, but I'm sure we can figure something out."

"Thanks mom— Oh. Oh." If he could have done so without pain, he would have slapped his forehead. "You guys are paying to stay here?" Had the League not let them do so for free? After everything? "If that's the case, I can help—"

Casey clicked her tongue. "That's your hard-earned money, Denzel," she softly said. "Keep it. I'm just elated to still be able to talk to you. Trust me, in a few months this will just be a bad memory."

"Yep. Hope so." The words led into a long exhale.

It wasn't as if he didn't have the money to pay. Being sponsored by so many companies plus streaming had made Denzel very wealthy this year, so he was sure he could have gotten his parents a rented home near the edge of town. Granted, his mother most likely would have refused because then they'd be so far away. Thinking about money reminded him about sponsors and how many backed-up emails he must have had. Finally, work to do.

"Hey, mom, can you do me a favor?" Denzel asked. He waited until she made a sound, signaling him to continue. "Do you know where they keep all of my stuff?"

She nudged her nose toward a small, narrow door that looked like a locker without a lock. "Some of it is in here, most of it is in a dedicated storage room for patients, like your big camera. If you want something from there, I'd have to ask the staff."

"Just my laptop. I need to talk to some sponsors—"

"Denzel, what you need now is rest," she insisted in that very annoying 'I know better than you' tone. "You woke up this morning. Can you take a break for a single day, at least? For your poor mother's nerves?"

But doing nothing literally felt like countless bugs crawling right beneath his skin. It was as if he'd been sprinting for a year and now everyone was asking him to stop. The finish line was literally nowhere in sight!

"This is actually important. I need to let them know I won't make the Conference this year so they can… adjust accordingly." That question was one of the first things he'd asked his doctors, and they'd said that while it wasn't impossible, they recommended he stay with them longer and take the L. Not like that— it had been said in more traditional doctor-speak. Basically, while it killed him to admit it, he would rather be safe than sorry and come back stronger than ever next year instead of risking permanent damage to his back besides the chronic pain that would remain. "Just that and I'm done, I swear."

Casey raised an eyebrow. "If you say so." She stood up with a dreary sigh, placing her knitting tools on the counter before shuffling over to the locker-thing. "Legendaries, where is that thing?" It took her a bit to locate the laptop. Denzel saw a bunch of the stuff he'd been carrying in there. His old backpack, notebooks, some clothes, some of his merch, potions, full heals… it was so mundane to look at now, but in a comforting way.

Laptop on his lap, he finally got typing, making sure he didn't have to extend his arms too far. Finally, something to do. The hospital's wifi was somewhat slow, but at least it was functional, and emails barely needed anything at all. Denzel would check those first while messaging his friends, and then he'd check the news.

Immediately, he opened his messaging app. From a quick scroll, the group chat's activity had basically evaporated the last two days, which was odd. Maeve had even left it last week, and Mira hadn't sent a message at all.

You - Yooo everyone. I'm up. When are yall coming over to visit?

He slowly sorted through his emails afterward. First things first, rehiring his manager. She'd been a great help and had aided with his promise to spend more time with his team, but he had given her a 'break' the last month— in reality, he'd just wanted to focus entirely on dealing with Galactic and had stopped anything content-related, so he would have been paying her for no reason. His video editor came next. If he wasn't going to be out of this room, then he would need to move his work in here. That was to say, streaming. Of course, he wouldn't be able to stream battles or training anymore unless he gave Lopunny his camera and let her commentate with some kind of TTS while he was on a call— holy fuck, that was a wonderful content idea, he'd need to put a tab on that; it would play a lot better than the react streams he was planning. Though maybe as a favor, he'd ask the League for streaming rights to the Conference. That'd be an earth-shattering stream. With that kind of juice and legitimacy, getting battlers on his stream for pre and post-battling interviews was well within the realm of possibility. Hopefully he'd be rehabilitated enough to walk by then—

So many concepts for content. Denzel's mind was going a million miles an hour to compensate his lack of agency. One idea led to another; endless branching paths of opportunity for growth. It was almost enough to distract him from the constant prickling in his back, but he'd nearly forgotten about his sponsors.

So;

Sponsors next… sponsors… okay, he had a lot to go through. First, a general message about his health and apologies for being so nonresponsive after his loss to Byron. Sure, his manager had picked up the slack, but that was until she'd been let go. Some would drop him, and that was fine. Having eleven companies sponsoring you left you a lot of leeway. He'd grovel and beg. Again, that was fine. Denzel wasn't above that; he'd never had much of an ego outside of battling and trainer knowledge, anyway, and the onus of being paid by so many businesses meant that your relationships weren't as tight as they could be unless you were a legend like Craig.

"Goodness," his mother nearly gasped. "I've never seen you like this. You look halfway mad and passionate."

His mom snapped him out of the zone. Irritating. "Well, I did tell you countless times this was my dream job…" it slowly sank in that this was the first time she'd ever seen him work. His eyes glanced to the bottom right of his screen at the flurry of notifications.

Cece - We have much to talk about and I am elated to see you awake again. I will be coming later tonight at 8:30pm if possible.

Emi - :)))) omw! looking forward to it!

Hothead - Your first message back is this bs? get a grip you ass

Hothead - Ive been at the hospitaal for hours already the docs told me ur mom wont let me in the room again talk to her or ill beat her ass and ur ass and ur dads ass there wont be any asses left to beat on god

Denzel barely reacted outside of his curling fists at what should have been a humorous statement. His nails scraped against his palms as he struggled to make sense of what his mom's reasoning was. He couldn't… blow up at her. No, he had to be level headed about this. He'd confront her when he was caught up with the texts.

Hothead - super happy youre up though ngl

Chase - Beating people up? Ill join in on that.

Hothead - Ok wheels

Hothead - Sorry was that too far im trying to be responsible and set boundaries

Huh? Denzel didn't really understand that… joke?

Chase - Got a chuckle outta me.

Chase - Kys tho. Louis

Louis - ?

Chase - Fatfingered. Mb bro I meant Pauline

Louis - I don't think that's something you should say regardless, and I feel the same way about this 'wheels' joke. Denzel, I'm still very busy planning Justin's funeral for this week, I might not make it this morning. My best wishes to you.

Denzel found himself blinking a lot faster than before, chasing away nascent tears. Right, he'd been asleep for so long that the funeral was soon. Would he be able to attend in this state? Again, he looked at his mother. Would she fight him on this? Because one issue, he could forgive. Twice? She had better not start with telling him he couldn't go.

Every man had his limits.

Cece - We should go together, Louis.

Bff - Just woke up. I'll be there. Sorry.

Louis - If you don't mind, of course, Cece.

Hm. That was weirdly monotone of a message from Grace, reminding him of the days after the Backlot raid. Anxiety rippled through his next few breaths, and he struggled not to grip the side of his laptop. He had most likely missed a lot, and it would take hours for them to go through everything. He still had no idea if all his friends' Pokemon were safe. If Abomasnow was safe. Chase being upbeat in texts meant nothing, given his reticence at showing even a sliver of weakness.

You - Ill talk to my mom

"Hey." He'd begun to speak before even sending that message, making sure to keep his tone steady and calm. Evidently, he was struggling at it. "Is it true that you've barred all visitors today?"

His mother poked one of her fingers with the needle and cursed under her breath. She licked her wound before blowing on her finger. "Yes, I did," she calmly said without an ounce of regret. "Pauline King has been a thorn in my side the entire time you've been here, and usually I'd be too tired to fight her. The little hellion has endless energy to argue." Casey shook her head dismissively, placing her knitting set and half-made oven mitt on the table next to Denzel. "Have you—" her eyes narrowed at the laptop on his covers. "Ah. She messaged you, didn't she?"

"Her and all of my friends!" Denzel snapped. The anger rose faster than expected, and pain joined in as if the two were linked, flaring behind him. "What the hell is this about— about not letting her in now that I'm awake? About having tried to stop her before?"

"Watch your tone with me, young man." Her voice was firm and unyielding, enough to make him reconsider himself, yet he didn't flinch. "I have told you that I respect your choice to be a trainer, that I accept this is what you want to do. But these…" she gestured toward the door, "people have put you in danger time and time again."

"Mom, they're—"

She shot up, and her chair raked against the floor. "Do you know how worried your father and I were, when every few months it feels like you're getting yourself into another death trap?!" Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she took a sniffling breath. Denzel had only seen his mother cry once, and it was so striking. The guilt within him was nearly physical. "Do you want me to count, Denzel? Because I. Will. Count."

"You're making a big deal out of nothing—"

Her verbal assault was too relentless for him to get a word in. "Mount Coronet; you get lost for days trying to save your crazy suicidal friend and break your ribs. Solaceon; you get involved with some cultist conspiracy because that Pauline kid lost a tournament? Really?" She laughed, as if she could barely believe it. "Then, oh my God, then you join the LTIP and have secrets you can't tell me, and the next incident is you fighting poachers with ACE Trainers in Pastoria!" She was red with anger, and her voice was so raw it was barely held together by the urge to scold him after this year. "And now this? To hear that you were in Coronet again fighting Team Galactic? And that's— that's not even counting the involvement with the Bianchis and the Obels! I heard it all on the news! You are sitting in a fucking hospital bed, Denzel! Your whole back was burned and again, you could have died! I don't want to hear about how I'm the problem for making things a big deal!"

Casey Williams' entire body slumped, the energy now sucked out of her. She took a trembling breath. She stood there, her arms extended forward, hands open and palms facing up. Her fingers were slightly spread, trembling ever so faintly, as if they weren't sure whether to reach out or withdraw. The gesture seemed to plead for understanding, a silent question hanging in the air: 'What am I supposed to do with you?'

"These people are your friends, I won't deny that," she admitted. "But I am your mother, and it is clear as day to me that they have been a horrible influence on you and your safety, yet I don't think you realize it."

Denzel knew deep down that she was right.

Years, she had warned him about the dangers of being a trainer. 'It'd be different if we lived in Galar or Unova', she would say. That hadn't stopped him. Even now, passion to be the best trainer he could be and the need to educate others about it still remained, burning hot in his chest with enough intensity to make him so excited he constantly had to work to better himself.

But after this year? To his mother, his state meant vindication. Time and time again, he had come close to death, remaining too far away from Twinleaf for her to do anything about it.

"Look, I'll put it simply." Denzel wanted to get angry again, but it was difficult when your mother was still drying her tears and she had a point. "Yes, you're right that if I hadn't met any of them, odds are, my journey would have been pretty ordinary. Eterna Forest would have been the worst of it." He might have met an entirely different group with Grace, without that tournament in Floaroma. "But I promise you that it's the end of it, okay? No more life-risking endeavors."

He would do it all again, if given a choice. Usually, Denzel wouldn't have been bothered to admit it, but now wasn't the time. While yes, fifteen year olds were allowed to be trainers and travel and be independent, they were still minors who required parental consent to let visitors into their hospital rooms. Policy was a little different if you were in a Pokemon Center (like them allowing visitors in with consent from the patient if no legal guardian was present), but this was a human hospital.

Casey scoffed, disbelieving. "That's what you always say."

"I didn't say it after Backlot—" You know what, that was probably a bad line to take. "Anyway, I mean it this time. No more fighting for my life. Hell, I'll quit the LTIP if that's what you want!" It wasn't like it'd be needed as an excuse for his involvement with the League anyway. The income would be missed, but it was pennies compared to what he was making now. "I'll be totally uninvolved with the government. Just… I need to see my friends again, mom. You're just delaying the inevitable."

"What?"

"I hate to do this to you," he said with a wince. "But if you stall and don't let them see me now, I'll just go when I'm out of the hospital. You're my mom, yes, but that, you can't stop. So just… I'll be safe from now on. I promise."

"Look me in the eyes," she demanded, kneeling next to him—

"Mom, your knees—"

She gripped his wrist tighter. "Promise me and look me in the eyes. Every time you've said it before, it was over the phone. I want to look at your eyes when you say it, because I know you."

He nearly shuffled back in his bed, but remembered the torrent of pain it would bring. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, because the truth was he had no idea if sometime in his lifetime, his friends would need that kind of help again. If they did, he would answer the call, just as always. He'd be the stalwart, level-headed person in the room they could rely on in a time of crisis.

But right now? At this moment?

"I promise you."

He fully believed everything was over.

His mother locked eyes with him, searching for something. She stared deep within him for a moment and sighed, nearly stumbling with a pained grunt when she stood back up again because of her bad knees.

"I'll believe you," she said, turning away. "Legendaries, children. They grow up so quickly…"

"Thank you. And I'm sorry."

He really was.

She left the room to allow visitors soon after and said she'd wait in the hospital lobby.



Denzel had missed a lot.

It was tough for all of us to approach the news of what had happened to us in his absence in a way he wouldn't blame himself for 'tapping out early'. For the second time since Pastoria, he'd needed to be caught up on everything going on, but this time, he wanted it all down to the very fine detail. First came one of the biggest-hitting news: Chase being paralyzed from the waist down and his Abomasnow being on life support for the foreseeable future.

He blamed himself, of course he did. It was all about what he could have done better, how he could have prevented this, how he could have stopped Mars earlier. Not about how it could have been so much worse and he had burned his back off to save Chase's life. While Chase wasn't there to set him straight, Emi and Pauline did most of the heavy lifting in that regard to get Denzel's head out of the pity gutter. I would have helped, and I did, but it just… I wasn't in the best state of mind to give out advice compared to those two.

I took over for basically all of the recounting of Coronet. He reacted especially strongly to me noting that Cecilia technically died. He'd paled and immediately stared at his laptop at previous texts before I could even tell him she was fine, at least physically.

"I don't want to speak for her, though, so… yeah, you'll see when she comes back."

Denzel frowned, and for a moment he did not look bothered by the pain, but distressed by how my face must have looked. Sometimes I wished I could be as selfless as him. Here he was, bound to a hospital bed with his back burned to a crisp and built back with new skin, and he put all of his worry in me instead of himself. Maybe if I'd been like this, I would have managed to fix Cecilia's and my issues instead of it coming to a head. Maybe I'd still have her. Maybe I wouldn't have ruined—

"Grace?" Denzel leaned forward with a slight wince. "What's wrong?"

I bit my lip. "Later. There has to be an order to things."

I continued with Coronet, and while I went further here than I ever had, telling Pauline and Emilia for the first time that Cecilia, Maylene, Mira and I had all been to the Dusk with Cynthia, I refused to tell the reason why that was or what had happened in there.

"Is that why… why you're so… faded?" he had asked me.

I'd answered 'partly', and that was when his surprised expression turned to pity and he clenched his fists.

The final piece came with Craig's death to Regice; it was another gut punch for Denzel, given that he'd been the closest to the man. That was when he'd broken down crying, curled up on himself and desperately asking why? Craig Goodwill had been his mentor and idol, the one who had set him on the path of a Pokemon Trainer and also the one who had taught him the way he now battled in Sunyshore. The man Denzel went to for advice whenever he had the time; a kindhearted individual who wanted nothing but good for the world and yet who had been ruthlessly ripped from its plane.

The world was an unforgiving place. Beautiful, yet unforgiving. With how Melmetal seemed like a force of nature in Lakhutia, a Pokemon larger than life who embodied metal, I could not imagine facing down Regice and not immediately withering away to Winter.

"And yet he, Flint and Aaron saved us all," I insisted to Denzel. "They survived the Hoarfrost— Winter— long enough to tire it out and keep the mountain's temperature stable. His death was not in vain!"

"And he's getting the recognition he deserves," Emilia added, far softer in her tone. "There'll be a ceremony for him Friday."

"The day after Justin's…" Denzel didn't finish the sentence.

"Yes." Pauline nodded with her arms crossed. "Hopefully your mom and the hospital lets you go to both. We have beef."

Denzel let out a sad laugh. "Beef? With the whole hospital?"

She huffed proudly. "Yep. They get mad at me for arguing with your mom over visits." Her pride wavered, however, something I still wasn't used to seeing. "Though I guess I'm a bitch being rude to the hospital staff who just want to do their work…"

Emilia gently nudged her arm. "You just wanted to see him, we don't hold it against you. Maybe apologize now that the issue's solved, though."

The redhead nodded. "Hmhm. Wait, will they even care?"

"Odds are, probably not?" Emilia tilted her head and hummed. "It's a good thing for you to learn, though."

"Learn? What am I, your pet? Arceus." Pauline rolled her eyes as they both chuckled.

Ah, they were having a great time, weren't they? They were kind of fun to watch. I didn't want to interrupt. I let them explain the majority of what went on after Galactic, with us all sticking around the Lily of the Valley Island. Even I learned some new things about what they'd been doing in their every day lives. Eventually, and unfortunately, both of their heads turned my way. It was my job to deliver the news about Cecilia.

Even days later, I despised speaking it out loud. Childish, really.

"Cece and I…" my thumbs fiddled together, "we've always been close. Too close. And it got a lot worse after all of this, so…" I took a deep breath. It was like jumping in a cold pool. "We're on a break."

He relaxed, as if he'd expected me to tell him we'd broken up. "Oh. Like— like after the raid. Okay."

"It's more serious," I muttered. "The problems were magnified, like, tenfold. It's going to take a while for both of us to fix them, not just a few weeks. And she's starting from a worse spot than I am because her team is mad at her for killing herself."

"Yeah. That makes sense." His lips thinned, and he shifted in his bed. He did that a lot. Like he couldn't find a comfortable position, which made sense considering his condition. I wondered how he was going to sleep tonight. On his stomach? "I'm sorry you both have to go through that. I guess that's why she wanted to show up later." Legendaries, I'd nearly considered not texting in the group chat because she'd gotten to it first. In fact, just seeing a sign of activity from her had made me want to leave the chat because I feared I'd try something. Luckily I managed to stay the course and not interact with her. "And hey," Denzel continued. "If you ever need to talk, I'm here, yeah?"

"Thanks. But I'm gonna be leaving soon…"

I told him about my plan to go to Jubilife and live both there and in Twinleaf for the time being. Granted, we'd hopefully see each other again at the funeral and the ceremony… but maybe asking him for advice about Maylene would be good beforehand.

Come to think of it.

Even if I managed to avoid the Gym Leader successfully, we'd still both be at the ceremony for Craig in Jubilife. Every Gym Leader would be, along with the Elite Four and the Champion as well.

Arceus fucking damn it. Well, I'd manage to avoid her somehow. There would be thousands of people there, after all. The real issue would be avoiding Cecilia in the much smaller-scale Justin funeral. I'd held back over text, but who knew what I'd do if I saw her?

Maybe I'd just skip. She deserved to be there more than me, since she'd known Justin for far longer—

No, I had to be there. No catastrophizing. I would manage, somehow. My Pokemon would keep me centered.

"...lost in her thoughts, just leave her be."

Oh. They'd been trying to talk to me.

"Sorry, what was that?" My eyes suddenly felt dry. When was the last time I'd blinked?

Denzel raised his eyebrow. "Um… Pauline said something about Maylene?"

Was she fucking for real? The glare that came her way was unintentional, but it sure made her shrink. "How do you even know that? I thought Cecilia didn't tell you?"

"W—well, she did last night a few hours after we spoke, alright? She felt guilty about not telling me everything after all we'd been through." So I had no say in this? I couldn't help but not like that. The redhead raised her hands innocently. "Look, I—I didn't know it was a big secret? You guys are best friends? I thought we were telling him everything!"

Emilia pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "My goodness."

"Look, you don't need to talk about it if you don't want to," Denzel hurriedly said.

"No. Hey, Pauline, Emi, could you give us five?"



Look.

Honestly, I was sick and tired of this judgment over this Maylene thing. Recycling the same conversation over and over and over; there was just no end to it. It felt like rehashing the same points again and again, and people's reactions were always the same. Like they knew better than me.

"Are you like… positive you don't like her?"

It was like I was being put under a microscope again and again. It was annoying to say and feel one way and have everyone doubt you and not take you seriously. 'Oh, are you suuuure you're not in denial about this whole thing?' Well, I don't know, Denzel, I'm going to reject her when Cecilia comes back when her relationship with her Pokemon is fixed, so you tell me! I was going to! It was going to suck, but I was clear-headed enough now to know that our friendship might survive that, especially with long distance making coping easier. Plus, she hadn't even liked me for that long!

Anyway.

Of course I didn't say all of that; the last thing I wanted was to get angry at him when he had no idea I'd been asked the question so many times. He was just waking up, and his eyes were still red from having cried about Craig. If none of us had been here and he'd found out online, he might have still been beside himself.

"Yep," I said. "Certain."

"Oh. Okay." The way he'd said that felt weird, but I had no energy to fight him on it.

Actually, fuck it. "I mean, come on. You were there when I was into Cecilia; you know what I'm like," I said with an exasperated sigh. "You saw it in Floaroma! I was nervous and I could barely hold it together in front of her!"

His expression shifted to one of thoughtful acknowledgment. "I mean fair, but I haven't seen you around Maylene at all— I still can't believe that, by the way. Maylene? She hates— hated you. Hard to wrap my head around." He blew a raspberry as he shook his head. To him, the last time he'd been awake Maylene and I had a tense alliance at best. "But like, you know there are different… ways to love someone, right?"

"Oh yeah! I mean, for example, I love you, but in a family sort of deal. I'm sure Maylene's the same; I've given it some thought lately—"

"No," he interrupted. "I mean different ways to fall in love romantically." He glanced at the door. "You saw me with Pauline back in the day, right? Did I look nervous around her at all?"

"N—no, but that's because you're you. You're like, a master at handling people, you don't get nervous. I'm different." I had to be. I was three for three.

"What do you feel when you think about Maylene?" he asked.

"Anxiety. Discomfort. Anger. The need to stay away from her."

"Okay. How about two days ago?"

I threw my hands up in frustration. "What's the point in any of this? You can guess from what I told you anyway." It was the way he wanted to make me speak it out loud, to wrangle it out of me as if he could get a confession that got to me. This was why I hadn't wanted him to know just yet, because I was sure he'd be the one to push this the most. He had been my wingman with Cecilia, and while I doubted he would try anything here given his… experience with these types of forced situations with three people, he most likely would keep digging and try to give me advice I didn't need. There was, however, no way I'd be able to resist that look. The sparkle of interest in his eyes. "Ugh, fine. I guess she was relaxing to be around and… whatever. Like she could give me something that was missing. It was mindless fun, at least until I realized everything. Plus I learned it'd be best not to rely on a single person for that kind of stuff. We're better off like this."

"Fair enough. Sorry for pressing you." We shared a slight smile at the apology. Denzel added, "Getting back to me, do get nervous sometimes, though I guess my sample size is a little low; I haven't really been in love that much." He shrugged, then winced, remembering the state of his back.

"How many times?"

"Twice. The first one was when I had a bit of a crush in school on this girl, Cori. You know, the usual. She left on her journey and I couldn't go. We don't keep up anymore, but I hear she's in Hoenn these days." He tapped his thigh with a hand and stared out the window. The weather was beautiful today— Wait, twice? That was once less than me! "I was a little nervous around her, but I chalk that up to inexperience more than anything. Anyway, I won't harass you about it, I just don't believe you."

"You what?"

"I don't believe you," he repeated as clear-cut as could be. "You can reject someone and still feel something for them. You can love someone while still being in love with someone else, especially if she gives you an escape like you've described. It's not a big deal, and I'm not telling you to pursue it or try to make it work, especially not now."

"It is a big deal!" How could he not get it? Wouldn't he be hurt if someone he liked fell in love with someone else? "It would mean I betrayed Cecilia, and if you can't understand that, then we're better off not talking about it at all."

His brows slowly creased into a frown. "I'm sorry. I just think that I know you well enough to figure this out and that your actions speak otherwise, but I'll stop—"

No. Enough of this. "I have to go. I'll see you later."

I was up before even realizing my legs had moved. I couldn't deal with this. I was better off trying to get in the groove of training again and visiting later when Cecilia was gone. I was done with everyone not believing me. Sooner or later, they'd see. I sent Emilia and Pauline back into his room before leaving and made my way up north.



"Oh. I get why Pauline called you wheels now. Sorry about her. They didn't tell me you were out and about in a chair already."

Chase rolled his eyes and inched forward into Denzel's hospital room. At least he'd had the decency to keep his pity and guilt to a minimum. "I'm not soft enough to care about that bullshit."

"Obviously. She wouldn't say it to a stranger, anyway," Denzel said. "Not anymore."

Chase looked around the room. All of his friends had left, but his Pokemon were apparently back. Lopunny was crouch-sitting in the corner of the room with her phone, browsing through whatever the Chatter algorithm was feeding her. That creepy little shit Sylveon was laid down next to Denzel on the bed, a flurry of ribbons wrapped around his left arm. It looked like he was asleep, at least.

Milotic kept poking Denzel's face with his, softly squealing in joy every time he realized his trainer was actually real and Altaria used Lopunny's head as a substitute for Denzel's now that he was hurt. The normal type didn't seem to mind. This place was a whole lot livelier than his, with how his mother had decorated the place. Denzel's pillow was clearly not from here, given the Pikachu-covered casing. There were flower pots all over, along with a picture of Denzel as a kid on the bedside table. He was smiling like there was nothing wrong in the world with a big gap in his teeth, firmly sitting on a tree stump next to an unwary group of Bidoof. It was as if they were the most interesting thing in the world to him.

He'd also been fatter than Chase thought he would have been, but his growth spurt probably had stretched him out.

"Huh. How old were you in that?" Chase asked, nudging his head toward the picture frame.

"Oh, this picture? I think I was eleven. Maybe twelve."

"What? You look six."

"Fuck off, no I don't!" Denzel protested. "You're late, by the way."

"Yeah, my bad."

Chase had been out in the last few hours practicing moving around on a wheelchair. Mostly, he'd gone to pick up his team, being now confident enough of his ability to be independent on his wheelchair to actually let them see him. They'd met again and spent the entire morning together, though the news about Abomasnow hit all of them hard. They were a unit. One that trained and stuck together through thick and thin. It hurt to hear that it would be years before they could even hope of seeing him again.

Of course, they'd thrown themselves into training right away with this new plan of his to speak to Byron through battle. Ri had been especially hungry to start again, and Chase had used the opportunity not to work out his arms— that would come later— but to work out his mind. The fight would be a delicate one where messaging would be key and all eyes would be on him; he could not afford to be rash and reinforce this idea the mainlanders had of Iron Islanders just being stupid, poor people who didn't know what was for their own good.

No. He would do them justice.

"You're looking fired up over there," Denzel said, snapping him out of his thoughts. Chase realized he'd nearly bumped into his bed and woken up that abominable fairy. Heavy sleeper, that one. "What're you thinking?"

"Thinking about beating Byron's ass. That always gets me out of bed in the mornings," Chase said, cracking his knuckles.

A beat of silence passed. "You know, I thought you'd be taking this a lot worse." Denzel looked him up and down, his stare lingering on Chase's now defunct lower body. "But it looks like you're picking yourself up."

"Look, I've been dealt a shit hand, it's true. No one can deny that," Chase admitted partly to himself. No matter how much he worked, no matter what he told himself, no matter what his actions would be from now on, at the end of the day he couldn't walk. "But that's all it is. A shit hand. And hey, we nearly killed the bitch for it in the process, I'd call that a fair trade even if it's bullshit." His finger twitched at that. Damn it, he couldn't even fully believe it himself yet. There was another few seconds of silence, and he took a steady breath. "But yeah, at the end of the day, the house has been spitting in my face since I walked in. My mother died bringing me into this world." God, he had never met her, but he missed her so much. He needed to visit her grave again. "But hey, what can you do but keep your head down and keep going?"

Denzel stared at him in awe, as if he hadn't expected such introspection. Come on, at least don't make it so obvious. Chase's friend carefully itched his arm, each movement slow and deliberate. "I don't know. I thought you'd be angry. Not at me, but at… everything."

Chase scoffed. "Oh, anger. You know a year ago, I'd have thought that would have been the play." His hands gripped the side of his wheelchair. "Rage against the world for being so unfair while pretending none of it hurt me before crying myself to sleep at night. Be an ass to everyone around me."

"To be fair," Denzel said with a shit-eating grin, "you're still kind of an ass."

"I get to be a little bit of an ass, as a treat," Chase cackled, his laughter mixing with Denzel's. Lopunny heartily nodded in the corner of the room. "And to be honest, you're the exception to the rule, you fuckin' creep. I've never seen you get mad. Frustrated, yeah, but never that angry. What's up with you?"

"I do get mad; I got mad at my mom earlier today. You're right, though, it doesn't happen very often. My dad's the same," Denzel said with a shrug. "I mean, we're all people at the end of the day. I can't see myself yelling at anyone, ninety-nine percent of the time, really."

Chase squinted at him. Even after all these months, he couldn't figure Williams out completely. "You weirdo. Anyway, I can't do any of that anymore, or no one's going to take me seriously. I'll look like a loon who doesn't know what he's talking about." Chase snapped his fingers. "Funny thing about politics is that people look at you weird if you're that angry unless you're an Arceus damn Kalosian."

"Very… expressive people," Denzel acknowledged with a nod.

"Y'know I read they have fistfights in their fucking legislative bodies sometimes. Shit's crazy, but they're my kind of people— anyway, the point is that you shouldn't worry about me. I'll be fine, Williams. Focus on your own thing; you're good at that." Chase had rarely seen such a dedicated, disciplined person. According to that asshole Pauline, Denzel had been working right out of the gate as soon as he'd woken up. Meanwhile, Chase had taken nearly days of wallowing in his own self-pity to get moving again. "I hope you'll be at my battle with Byron, though."

His friend smirked. "Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Thanks. Trying to get all the gang together for it," Chase said. It still felt surreal to him, to be angling for a position as Byron's Gym Trainer, but he could get more change done from the inside.

Ri had better train up his steel type quickly, as had the rest of the team. Even Wimpod had gotten a fire lit under her— not that he would let her participate in the battle, she was too precious. God, he couldn't wait to give that fucker Byron his job offer.

"Any news on Mira?" Denzel worryingly asked.

"The shrimp's busy on her quest for love. I'm not one to get in the way of that, I'm glad she's moved on from me." Their dynamic had been fun, but he'd discovered more of himself these past few months. Romance was a fucking bother and a worthless time sink, and one look at all of his friends proved him right. "I hope she'll be at Justin's funeral, at least."

"Hopefully. I hope she's at least got a lead."

"Cheers to that." Chase raised an imaginary glass. "Anyway, got any advice for this Byron fuck? Since you lost to him and all." It'd do him well to last the longest amount of time possible for his pitch.

"Yeah. You're still a bit of an ass," Denzel repeated to himself. "But sure, I've got tips. Here, let me pull up footage of my battle…"



The main way Cecilia had of judging people was now their initial reaction to her. People were divided into two categories. One, the people who shied away or were terrified of looking her in the eye. These were prey, from whom she took great pleasure from. Cecilia knew this was now as instinctual to her as breathing. Ghosts took great pleasure from negative emotions, given that was what they'd been born from. Alas, she hated that jolt of pleasure and the sliver of a smile she had every time someone was unsettled or at least shook or taken by her appearance. It had not been supposed to be this way.

Yet it was.

There was a second kind of pleasure, brought by the human half of her which thankfully remained. The way eyes and faces danced with pleasure at the sight of her whenever she met with her friends. She had been nervous about Denzel's initial reaction to her, but her old friend was thankfully too good for this world. The moment Cecilia and Louis stepped into his room after knocking, he beamed at them with such a bright expression she figured she might have been going blind. He looked as if he'd been struggling to make any movement, however, and they knew a hug wouldn't be possible.

"We missed you," Louis said, clearly relieved. During the way here, he'd made his opinion about how Denzel must have been hiding how bad he truly was heard, but their friend looked at least to be functioning. Granted, he was on painkillers. "How has your first day back been? Have the others caught you up?"

Cecilia enjoyed letting Louis speak. He was a kind man with more sweetness than he knew what to do with. She opted to let him catch up with Denzel for a while, instead retreated into her own thoughts—

No. She could not. Or she would regret her choice again, and her phone was only a mere gesture away. She'd needed to use Scizor to snap her out of a trance with a loud buzzing sound before she could text Grace once she saw her in that group chat. Luckily she hadn't used it since, and neither had Cecilia. Things would hopefully get easier tomorrow once she got Slowking back, but…

The number of times she had nearly slipped was more than ten at this point. The sooner she was off this island, away from anywhere with reception, the better. And yes, it was getting easier. Slowly. Each day, the water drowning her was an inch lower than the last. The problem was there were countless inches to go through.

Instead, when the time came to tell Denzel about herself and her death, she did so, making sure to express regret at what she'd done. He could barely believe his ears, and sometimes even she couldn't believe she'd survived. To not only have learned Perish Song, but to have used it to bring her back? Lehmhart had always been good at music, but he was a true prodigy. The impact of the news was a little blunted by the others having told Denzel earlier today.

"And Cece?" Denzel spoke up. "How are things going? I heard about the break and… everything else surrounding it. Sorry about everything, I hope you guys fix what you've got going on."

She opened her mouth, but realized it had fallen too far down to make the sound she'd wanted. Instead, a strange, low-pitched grunt came out. "S—sorry." The way her body worked was cumbersome, sometimes. "I hope so as well. It's… difficult, but I count each day I survive as a blessing."

A sad smile stretched across Louis' lips. A smooth expression Cecilia had been able to make, once. Now nearly everything on her face was sudden and violent. "We're all here for you, Cece. And look, you've said it yourself, right? This is for the better."

Yes, she had said that a whole lot these past two days, mostly to convince herself.

"I'm surprised about the Maylene thing," Denzel said. When Louis stared daggers at him, he raised an eyebrow. "What? I can talk about it. Wait, can I talk about it?"

"I'll tell you if it's too much." Cecilia inclined her head, making sure to catch it before it went too low. A mild success, she'd found.

"I kind of pissed Grace off earlier by bringing her up. She came back later, but… yeah, she was still stewing," Denzel said. "Should have known to not insert myself into this stuff. It's a flaw of mine."

Ugh. Just hearing her name was— "Maybe don't mention her by name," Cecilia muttered. "It's… tough."

"Shit. Sorry, you were right, Louis—"

"No. It's my fault for being so emotionally weak," the Unovan lamented. She rose from her chair and walked around the room. There were signs of Pokemon here. Lopunny's fur scattered across the room; the floor slick with water from Milotic; an impression on the bed where Sylveon had been. "The truth of the matter is, Maylene isn't a variable in this situation." She stopped to look through the window. It was so dark, yet it felt like she should have been able to see regardless.

"Isn't she?" Louis asked. Even he was surprised.

"She was the catalyst for everything, but the issues ran deep. Maylene will be fine regardless; her crush on her is an unsustainable one. Immature." Cecilia had seen it even more when they had spent the afternoon together yesterday. Luckily, the Gym Leader hadn't brought up Grace too much, focusing instead on what both she and Cecilia could learn from each other.

"Gra— her crush on you started as an immature one. Mostly based on your looks," Denzel said. "But you are leaving, so I guess you're right— wait, what's going to happen if you two don't get back together by Unova?"

Cecilia wanted to collapse as a pile of body parts on the floor. How should she know? "I am uncertain, but she has her own part to play and I have mine. That doesn't change whether we're together or not; this is how relationships are supposed to work." At least Emilia had told her so. The truth was, Cecilia wasn't really sure about what normal relationships were like.

"Things will work out before then, I'm sure," Louis reassured. Cecilia hoped so too, but there was a lot of work to be done. So much toiling. "Let us move on to more positive matters. Denzel, I saw that you posted on Chatter on our way here…"

Ah, Louis. Bless his soul; he was trying even if it wouldn't work for her. It did not mean she couldn't try. She threw herself into the conversation, which devolved into a social media training course from Denzel. Her friend was adamant she needed to be more active if she wanted to be a politician, and he was right. Unovans were very active online on their own version of Chatter run by X Technologies, including Gym Leaders and the Elite Four. She would need to build a following and post about her activities, along with her pleas.

Cecilia had been so reluctant to come here tonight, but…

This place;

It was suffocating, but things were getting better. Inch by inch.



A/N: Kind of a bridge chapter filled with conversations and character interactions, but it had to be made. Next chapter is finally the Mira Interlude…s? Idk it it'll take a single part or two.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A.
 
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Interlude - The Search New
A/N: Missed it by a day, my bad team, but it was very long.

INTERLUDE - THE SEARCH


"I need you to find someone."

Mira jolted awake in the middle of a quaint café. A handful of wooden tables were scattered across a polished floor. Each one was topped with a flickering candle, casting a gentle light that danced over the delicate porcelain teacups and saucers as if they'd tried to make this place as Galarian as possible. After a quick look around, she heard the bustling activity outside, which could only mean they were back in Jubilife or the more modern parts of Hearthome.

Wake the fuck up, processing Mira yelled in her head. I got you your man.

In front of Mira, Carlos loomed over the table. His body was so large that it was as if he'd been sitting at a toy set rather than an actual establishment. His only eye lodged in the intact part of his face was in the process of narrowing in confusion, most likely at her reaction. Mira's eyes were heavy. How long had she been asleep for?

Three hours. Could have been more, but I'm not handling any conversations. Fuck you, processing Mira clamored so loud it worsened her headache. Usually, a quick flick within her mind would have sent it to her pained self, but Mira had gone over her quota for the day. Any more, and the damned prick would sabotage her.

Pained Mira huffed with a feral smile. She could visualize it so clearly. That's right; you watch yourself.

Arceus damned unionizing personalities. The worst part was that they could never be shut out. She had kept them alive for too long, and they had grown far too large and independent to be merged ever again. She'd learned her lesson. No more Miras, or things would degenerate and the last thing she needed was to get worse instead of better.

In the time it had taken for her to introspect and listen to her other selves berate her, Carlos had finally focused his gaze on her. She'd gotten used to his face by now, but the public was another matter entirely. His left side retained the rugged features of a once-handsome man, with a strong jawline, a high cheekbone, and a dark, intense eye framed by a thick brow. His right was another story. The skin was grotesque and disfigured, melted away by acid, leaving behind a patchwork of scar tissue that twisted and pulled into a patchwork of faded pinks. Within the socket, only an empty, hollow hole could be found. The corner of his mouth on the damaged side was pulled upward into a grimace, and you could see his teeth all the way to his molars.

Needless to say, Carlos attracted attention wherever he went. "I'm someone who kills things efficiently," he said, emotionless. "If you want to figure out where someone is, I'd be awful at it."

He says this, but look at him. He wants to help, Cold Mira said, the permanent shiver in her voice still clearly present. Regice's influence had seeped far into her, and the cold she'd felt would be permanent. Without Uxie's power, her actual body would have had to deal with it. And it was. Mira just didn't have to actually process the frigidness spreading through her. As a result of this, Cold was often the slowest speaker due to how she'd stumble through every word, second only to Anxious.

Anxious Mira was also shaking, yet for an entirely different reason. I don't know, Mirs. What if we never find Lauren? What if she's already on a ship to Johto or something, and we never see her again?!

That was… a possibility. Not the boat to Johto part, but the 'disappears forever' part. The truth was, if a trainer of her caliber wanted to disappear, there was very little a person like Mira could do to stop her. Since she'd come back from the Distortion World, Mira had looked up and down Sinnoh, with Alakazam and Gardevoir working in tandem to Teleport her across the Region. She had posted online about her and scoured every city, but of course, despite her five minds, she was confined to only one body. Fleshy, weak and unable to go off-route where Lauren's team would be able to keep her safe.

F-focus, Anxious Mira stumbled, still reeling from the thought of losing Lauren. Don't close yourself off again.

Ugh, she needed to stop getting lost in her thoughts like this. Mira was thankful Mirs was taking the majority of her worries away from her, though. She wouldn't have been able to function without…

Well, without any of her other selves, no matter how much she complained.

Oh. Right, they'd come up with a name system. Better than them being titled, after all; they were quickly outgrowing their primary reason for existence anyway. Anxious was Mia, Cold was Mirs, Processing was Mims and that jackass Pained had decided to claim their full name of Mirabelle, which they hadn't used since writing their names on school tests and assignments.

Maybe that was why they were coming into their own so quickly—

"Mira," Carlos gruffed. He waved a hand in front of her until she blinked and remembered where she was before grabbing onto his teacup. It looked minuscule in his hands. "Focus. I'm on break, so I'd like to be enjoying myself instead of helping brats."

Arceus, sometimes it feels like you want to fuck up on purpose, Mirabelle scolded.

Swallowing, she grounded her feet under the table. "Sorry," she quietly apologized both to her and Carlos, though the ACE knew how she easily got lost in thought. "I just… I haven't found a trace of her, and I've been looking for over a week! Her brother's ceremony is on Friday, and I'm terrified she'll miss it! Plus, there's the funeral afterward, and her family's been looking for her too! They can't lose two kids."

We should have gone to see them, Mims said as she inhaled air into Mira's lungs and blinked with her eyes.

You were outvoted, Mirs said, teeth chattering. They barely know us. It'd be weird to just show up while they're mourning Craig. She was cold physically, but cold in spirit as well. A defeatist at heart who would rather wither away instead of fighting for their friend.

She could almost picture Mirabelle rolling her eyes. Who cares, anyway? You should have knocked her out again, Mims; we know better—

Quiet!
the real Mira yelled to herself, pushing them down to the edges of her subconscious. They'd be quieter there, but never truly gone.

She refocused just in time, given that Carlos had begun speaking again. "Look, there are guys in the ACE force who could probably track her better than I could." He clicked his tongue when he saw the flicker of hope in Mira's eyes. "No, Mira. I like you. I like you more than I should, but the extent of our contact is over. An ACE Trainer… shouldn't get attached. This is it between us; I hope you grow up to be happy. I shouldn't have come."

"What— hey, wait!"

Carlos had already stood up, putting money bills down on the table to pay for both their drinks. Mira tried to grab his sleeve, but she felt a cold shiver of magnified dread shoot down her spine. Prickles right beneath her skin, poking to burst out at any moment. She hugged herself and gritted her teeth while Mirs noted that she had to deal with worse every day, every hour, every minute.

Fucking Mismagius. It was a good thing she hadn't had Gengar out, or he would have come out to 'play' with her and gotten himself killed in ten seconds tops in the middle of a damn public café. Mira's shoulders sagged as she slumped back in her chair, slowly sipping on her bottled water as she contemplated what to do. She was effectively at a dead end here. Carlos had been her last hope, and he'd hung her out to dry.

There's nothing left to do, Mirs mumbled, stumbling over her words. Let's give up and go home.

For once, the rest were quiet. Mira clasped her fingers together and leaned against her linked hands. She could head to Canalave and find her parents' address with a little sleuthing, given that her father was a public servant. She just didn't want to intrude on their space and… disappoint them in any way. It was a stupid, nonsensical thing to do, but Mira was far from a perfect being only driven by logic despite the gift she'd been given. The tip of her fingers felt cold until Mirs sniffled in her head, sucking out the icy touch from Mira's mind. She'd promised Craig to take care of his sister if anything happened to him, and now that he was dead, she couldn't even find the damn girl.

"Is there anything else I could do for you, or will that be everything?"

A waitress had come by to check up on her. Mira hadn't bothered paying attention until now, given that Mims usually handled all the background stuff like that, but an eye-catching thing about her was that a strand of her hair was dyed white.

Mira shook her head. "No, we'll take the check, thank you." Mims had taken over her mouth to speak.

The waitress frowned, but hesitantly nodded before leaving. While Mirabelle fought with Mims over the usage of 'we', Mira's eyes slowly widened as an idea wormed itself into her mind.

There was another way.



Finding her had been easier than Mira thought.

Sarah Newman had arguably been the second most famous trainer in Sinnoh, right behind Craig. Their rivalry was legendary, with Craig almost claiming victory over her during the Conference finals last summer—a battle so intense that pundits still call it the best Conference Final ever. Even Mira, despite her usual disinterest, had watched that match. Unfortunately, their tale came to an abrupt end afterward. Sarah left for Kanto after losing to Bertha during her Elite Four run, leaving Craig as the undisputed front-runner to win this year.

That was until he died. Now she bet everyone was scrambling to be a winner, using the extra time to push their teams to the limit.

All of that to say that, again, it was easy to figure out where famous people lived. Sarah Newman, it turned out, had lived just a few blocks away from Mira in the poorer, eastern side of the city until she'd gotten enough money to move her foster family to the posh west. It wasn't a mansion akin to what Pauline or Louis would own, but it was still a home in the most expensive parts of the city. Mira had basically never been here outside of when she'd hung out with Grace for a while inside and near Poketch Headquarters, but she'd seen the effects the bombs had on Jubilife to get here. The remains of collapsed or damaged buildings, upturned pavement or asphalt roads, and shrines built to commemorate the dead that left the scent of candles permeating throughout. The city government had passed a bill to get started on a monument to remember the dead by, like the ones you'd see for the Great War or the famine in Sinnoh that followed due to Articuno's Ice Age. It'd be built in the center of the city and have all the names, and nearly every city was looking at creating something similar with their own spin on it.

Now that she was here, Mira hesitated when her finger hovered over the doorbell. What was she even going to say?

Hello, I'm looking for Craig's sister, and I'm pretty sure you knew her decently well. Not only that, but a trainer of your caliber would be able to go anywhere in the country, so I'd appreciate your help, Mirabelle droned sarcastically. How's that?

Not bad,
Mims said with a nod.

We we could show her our phone for pproof, Mia added.

Mirs sighed. We need to, or she'll think we're worthless.

As always, the quartet felt the need to push their input. Mira pressed the doorbell and heard the sound reverberate in the house. She took the time to get a good look at it. It really looked like one of those old places from the 19th century, where Jubilife underwent a massive reconstruction after being ravaged by a combination of diseases, civil wars, and famines caused by bad harvests and wild Pokemon attacks on farms during the Troubled Century. As a result of this, the buildings older than this were few and far-between in the city. Emilia's parents owned three, being real estate people.

"Who is this?" a muffled voice came through the door. Upon closer look, Mira could see the peephole darkened a smidge. "We've already said no press. Do we need to call Dragalge back? Or do you want Weavile this time?"

That wasn't a girl's voice. Maybe one of her foster siblings? "I'm Mira Compton. I'd like to speak to Sarah Newman if she's here, please? If she isn't, could I leave a number to contact her? It has to do with— I'm a friend of Lauren Goodwill who's worried about her and who's been looking for her for over a week. I have proof if you need it."

The voice hummed as if intrigued by her words. The darkness behind the peephole disappeared, but he'd gone too far for Mira to hear what he was saying. A minute passed, then two, then five, but that was okay. Mira could wait. She listened to her inner selves strategize while she stayed quiet and leaned against one of the pillars supporting the overhang above their porch.

Eventually, she heard a few voices again, and Mims hastily put her back in front of the door with a polite smile, wider-opened eyes, and a good posture. Mira's heart jumped when the door opened right away.

There was this thing about some trainers. People who could capture anyone's attention without even trying. Maybe it was just because Mira had never seen Sarah Newman before other than on television or online, but she had it while people like random trainers you found off the street did not. Craig had owned it as well.

Sarah Newman had been born with naturally white hair. Usually, she wore it long, but this time, it had been fixed into a bob cut that looked horrible on her. She had long bangs that nearly hid her bright hazel eyes behind thick strands of hair. She straddled the line between gaunt and thin, though with how tall she was, there was no way she wasn't underweight. Not as long as Cynthia and Cecilia were, but still decently taller than average for a woman.

As thin as Sarah was, she was larger than life in a way that held Mira's gaze for longer than she would have given to anyone else. Even Mirabelle was breathless. Sarah bent slightly forward, eyes narrowing at Mira.

"You don't look like much." Her voice was loud but flat. It was like listening to a robot speak, though it was nowhere as bad as Justin had once been. Just odd. "You say you know Lauren?"

She wasn't as depressed as Mira thought she'd be, but then again, everyone had their own way of grieving, and it wasn't like she'd show herself so vulnerable to a stranger.

"I—I do, and I have proof on my phone if you want." She hadn't used the thing much lately other than to check if Lauren was seen anywhere on her megathread or to send her a few messages. "We're friends. Good friends, even." Or at least Mira hoped so.

A dark-skinned teenager with a buzz cut came up behind her. "Who's this gal, Sarah?" he asked. Every word was laced with a tint of irony. "Want me to kick her out? Not like she'd amount to much; she looks pretty scrawny." He drew out the last word in the most obnoxious way possible.

The white-haired woman pushed her foster sibling back inside the house with an annoyed, yet love-filled groan, closed the door, and opted to speak to Mira alone. "Sorry about my brother. He's at that age, and he's a little lonely."

"Lonely?" Mira asked.

"Shaun's the second youngest, and he only has his sister left. Everyone else has moved out. Become a trainer, gotten into a trade, or are prepping for college. Plus, he's still pissed at me for leaving for a year no matter the amount of money I throw at them," Sarah droned. "Enough about my family life. Show me this proof."

Mira scrambled to grab her phone and would have dropped it without Mims backing her up. She quickly scrolled to Lauren's name on her contacts and showed Sarah her texts. It felt a little wrong to show so much to her, especially when the woman had started scrolling through everything, but if it was what it took to find Lauren, Mira would swallow her pride.

"Hm, yes, this seems legit. That's her number," Sarah whispered to herself. "I believe you."

She threw the phone back into Mira's hands, which she again nearly dropped. "W—will you help me find her, now?"

"Hm. Why don't you come in, first?"

What? Any second wasted here was a second Lauren could be in danger! "Are you sure we can't just talk on the road?"

"Yes," she deadpanned.

Mira supposed she had no choice, then.

She stepped into the old home, whose entryway was full of old shoes of all sizes. There were plenty of pictures on a drawer showcasing their entire family. Children of all creeds and ages, with Sarah being the oldest, along with their foster parents. A chubby woman with mid-length hair and a burly man whose body was somewhat like Crasher Wake's. The so-called Shaun, who looked to be around thirteen or so, was sitting in the living room with his feet up on the couch's backrest, playing on some sort of console upside down. A war game of some sort with all kinds of futuristic guns and two Pokeballs on his tooltip. His sister looked like a typical native Johtoan, somewhat like Maeve, and she was nose-deep in her phone, not even sparing the stranger in her house a glance.

"That's Mei. Anyway, pay them no mind. Want something to drink?" Sarah didn't wait for an answer. Instead, she made her way to the kitchen and got started on coffee. "I guess that's a no. Sit somewhere. Anywhere. I'll get to you."

If Sarah was making her wait, she'd do best to at least form a strategy or something. Wasn't this girl supposed to be super good at reading people like Gardenia or Grace— or at least for the latter, when she was in the right state of mind? Mira had heard that Sarah was even better than the grass type Gym Leader at getting in people's heads and that she never, ever lost twice to someone.

Mira wondered where their parents were. Work had started up again for the majority of people, though, and she'd heard they both worked different jobs at hospitals, so it made sense they wouldn't be here, especially now. They probably spent entire days away from home.

Sarah came back with a huge coffee mug, and Mira started to notice the bags under her eyes sloppily hidden by foundation and concealer. Had she not slept? Was she grieving after all? The trainer took a chug of the scorching hot coffee as if that hadn't burned her mouth off completely and let out a satisfied sigh.

"Where have you looked?"

The question was so sudden Mira wasn't sure she'd heard it right. She'd wanted this, but had expected some random small talk first.

"I don't beat around the bush," Sarah said. "So again, I ask, where have you looked?"

"Every city except Twinleaf— I have two Teleporters, so I can cover a lot of ground fast." Mira didn't miss Sarah rolling her eyes when she mentioned psychics. She ignored her and continued. "Lauren has a pretty rabid fanbase that she hates, but I was able to put them to good use and organize search parties and stuff, but all of that came up empty. I've looked on a lot of routes as well, though obviously I can't cover everything there. I considered Coronet because it was where her brother went to train, but it's closed off, so there's no way she would have made it through without anyone hearing."

Mims took a breath and allowed her to continue.

"Battle Frontier permits take months to get approved, so there's also no way she would have managed to get there. Even illegally, she has no flier and has never been, so she couldn't have had her Reuniclus bring her. She could have gone south of Twinleaf, but I couldn't check there because I'm also in the same boat and I can't fly. Route 216 and 217 are really long and it's where we really bonded for the first time so I spent a lot of my time scouring the route and I found nothing and—"

"Remember to breathe," Sarah warned. Her deep voice cut through Mira's rambling like a knife.

Damn it, what the hell was Mims even doing?!

I'm just as invested in this as you are, you bitch! she yelled back. Sorry for being fucking human and not your breathing machine. Maybe you should learn how to function on your own again!

Mira winced. Point taken.

Yeah, she got you there, Mirabelle acquiesced.

"You've been diligent; you clearly care for her." Sarah's hands wrapped around her warm mug tightly. "Lauren and I were never that close if I'm being honest with you— she disliked me because I kept beating her brother, and she'd never admit it to herself now, but she was and remains his biggest fan. Plus, with all of my little siblings, I was tired of kids, especially if they were going to be rude to me," she said.

"Fuck you too, Sarah!" Mei yelled from the living room.

The trainer shook her head with an exasperated sigh. "I'm not ordering pizza tonight."

"What? But why?" her sister whined.

"Just be quiet and you'll get it. Cheesy crust, pepperoni and everything." Sarah waited for both of her siblings to agree, though they demanded soda in exchange for their cooperation. She accepted and turned her attention back to Mira. "Lauren and I were never close," she repeated, "but I know her. I have an idea of where she would be."

Every single Mira beamed, and more happiness permeated through her right then and there than she'd remembered feeling in months. "Then we can go?"

Sarah gulped down more coffee. "Mm. I can go."

"What?"

Sarah slid her coffee mug across the table. It was already empty, but Mira could still feel the heat radiating off of it. "It's easy to see you care about her, but I don't know if I can trust you. I don't know if you'd be the best person for her to see in her current mental state."

What the fuck? Mirabelle clicked her tongue and stomped a foot, which gave Mira a headache. This girl has her head so far up her own ass!

"You don't understand. I have to see her."

"Why?" Sarah tilted her head.

"Because I—" Something she'd been about to say had made Mirs cut her off. It would have been too warm. "Look, I'm a thousand lies packed into a body that pretends to know what it's doing, I wouldn't trust me either," Mira admitted, her eyes downcast. Suddenly, the little creases and stains on the table were the most interesting thing in the world. "But I made a promise to Craig before we both headed into Coronet. I told him that if anything happened to him, I'd be there for Lauren. So I don't care if you don't want me to be there, I will be there."

Sarah smiled. "There you are."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

The tall girl stood up, her hands against the table. "You were talking like a meek little child who was so uncertain about herself, not someone who wanted to save her friend from grief," she said. "This is who I believe can reach Lauren's heart. It'd have to be you, after all. Lauren hates me."

"R—right." Mira blushed, and her mouth felt dry all of a sudden. "Where are we going, then?"

"Where Craig and I used to train after we reconnected," Sarah murmured, slightly misty-eyed. "Victory Road."

"Wha—"

She then turned toward her siblings, leaving enough money for pizza on the table. "Tell mom and dad I'll be out on a trip for a bit. Be back in a few days."



Two things about Sarah Newman.

One, she did not speak much beyond the bare minimum. This made sense, considering they were strangers, but even Lauren would speak your ear off about battling or music to someone she didn't know if they weren't weird to her first. It made Mira wonder how in the world she'd been Craig's best friend and possible girlfriend, once? There were a lot of rumors about their relationship online, though it'd never been confirmed, and eventually they went their separate ways until their last year, when they reunited. Craig Goodwill was someone who'd never leave a person to stew in silence; he'd always find something to talk about and make you feel right at home. There was this warm aura about him.

Or had been.

Two;

She was fucking insane.

Sarah's team was well documented, and she hadn't caught anything new in her time in Kanto. Her Swanna was larger than average and could fit two people with a little room to spare, especially a kid like Mira. Her Ditto was known to be able to transform into many Pokemon as well— including many flying types such as Staraptor, Pidgeot and Fearow— though the only ones it had truly mastered were Pokemon on her team. Unfortunately for Mira, Sarah preferred to use her Mantine for transportation.

Mantine. The Pokemon that swam and sometimes managed to hover for a few dozen seconds out of the water, or maybe a few minutes at most? And that was after building up enough speed? Hers could fly without a hitch, and instead of sitting safely in the center of the water type's body, Sarah's legs dangled over her Mantine's wings— fins! They were fins! Her messy bob cut danced in the wind, and she looked down at the world passing her by without a single flinch even when Mantine abruptly moved, repositioned itself, or flapped its… fins.

Ju—just call them wings, Mia muttered. Easier to stomach.

They were— she was strapped on tight to a saddle, but that still didn't help, even when Mia was handling most of the fear. It was when she'd seen footage of Barry Lane's Rapidash fly; some things just weren't intended to be tried, and not only that, she was on top of this experiment, riding it instead of just watching from afar.

But Sarah was a professional. A crazy professional, but she knew what she was doing, especially since she hadn't fallen yet, so Mira took a deep breath as Mantine sang and pivoted upward, flying through a cloud that left her cold, wet, and miserable. Sarah Newman was a shivering mess, hands gripping the side of her Mantine's wings as she'd nearly slipped, but it was not fear that took her.

It was laughter. She was giggling like a little girl at almost having slipped off her Mantine and died. Was she a thrill seeker? The water type seemed to pay her no mind besides some kind of knowing sound. A gentle, whooshing noise that carried whispers of the ocean with it, but still sounded animalistic enough not to unsettle her.

It was beautiful up here, even if the air was thin. Actually, shouldn't they be passing out right now from the lack of oxygen, or the decrease in air pressure? They were far beyond the safe limit recommended for flight! A sea of clouds lay beneath them, a veritable ocean that filled the sky as far as the eye could see. Above them lay the endless blue sky, as if you were above everything and only emptiness remained between you and outer space. At least until the illusion was dashed and you looked in front of you— to the east— and saw Coronet peaking through the clouds and going further than even that.

She'd climbed all of that.

"Do it again," Sarah said with a wild grin.

What the fuck? Did she forget Mira was on here? She was starting to think that was entirely possible. Mantine acquiesced, and Sarah repositioned herself to lay flat on her stomach while her hands were wound tightly at the edge of the flying type's wings. Wings that it pulled in as it dove— holy fuck. It was nosediving toward the clouds at speeds so high the air whistled past Mira's ears. She shut her eyes when Mantine entered the clouds and held her breath as if it were anything other than vapor.

Feeling silly, she reopened them and saw that Mantine was slowly diving and jumping in and out of the clouds like they actually were in the ocean. Behind them, it left trails of clouds that stretched for miles. Mira's eyes darted to Mantine's wing—

Sarah wasn't there.

She wasn't there!

Mira knocked on Mantine's back, finding it a lot tougher than she'd expected. Like dense rubber. "Hey! Hey, your trainer fell!" she shrieked as loud as she could. Oh, Legendaries, was she going to have to be the cause of Sinnoh's second most famous trainer's death too?

Mantine seemed unbothered, and it took a few seconds for her to get it. Out of the clouds came Sarah Newman, arms outstretched as if she were a bird with wings and cackling like a wild woman. She was flying.

Flying.

"Wooooooooooooo!" Her voice ripped through the air, echoing across the sky and clouds.

She's going to get us killed in Victory Road, Mirs said. For once, they all echoed the sentiment. If Mira squinted, she could see the subtle shift around her. This was no psychic move. She floated weightlessly beside her Mantine, cradled within a shimmering bubble of air that clung to her like a second skin. The bubble was a translucent sphere, faintly glimmering with iridescent hues, reflecting the soft light of the sky.

Such mastery of flying type energy was…

Fucking unheard of in this region.

Her hands were moist. It took another six minutes and thirty-six seconds by Mims' count for Sarah to land back on her Mantine, sweaty and out of breath. At least it explained why she seemed not to fear falling off the damn thing— Mantine would simply pick her back up before she could go splat on the ground. Newman ran a hand through her messy hair and looked alive, for a moment, before her face returned to her neutral, flat expression reminiscent of Justin.

What was going on inside her head? Mira could have known, had she been empty of morals. Maybe she was thinking about how it'd been a while since she'd gotten to do that? Or maybe about Craig and what he would have said to her. He'd been a pretty safe flier compared to her, though even Chasey qualified as a safe flier if Sarah was the standard.

"We'll be flying for a while." Sarah's voice made Mira jump out of her skin, and all of her selves screamed in her head. "Have I given you enough time yet?"

"Time for what?" Mira stammered. Her voice seemed louder now, unaffected by the strong winds around them.

Sarah scrunched up her nose. "About what you're going to say to get Lauren back. About what you're going to say to her beyond 'Craig told me to take care of you.'"

Mira nodded. Oh, she'd had something in mind for days alright, though today had put many things in perspective. "I might have something to add here and there. I don't know how she'll react, though. Like, I don't know how she'll be grieving."

Mira couldn't believe Lauren might have been right under her feet. She'd put everything off, be that her uncle or her friendships to scour the region in order to find her, and it turned out she'd forgotten to look at Victory Road. Under the Lily of the Valley Island. She'd been so stupid not to think of that, especially when Craig had trained there as well.

"Lauren is an angry girl," Sarah explained, patting Mantine's wing. "She will be angered beyond reason. You'll have to reach her heart if you want to convince her to get back."

Right. Mira had seen Lauren cry, but that was almost always accompanied by anger. Her mind whirled at the thought of having to face her mad again without flaking, but she knew deep down that she'd find the power to. It was her duty. Mira looked at Sarah out of the corner of her eye. She was talking to Mantine about him— Mira had finally figured out his gender— being hungry.

"Wait until we get to the open ocean," she reassured the enormous beast. "You'll get all the plankton you want."

Ah. Mira assumed they'd be stopping on the coast or swapping to her Swanna sooner rather than later, then. Now a little less anxious, she settled into her saddle and relaxed her muscles, which had been tense for at least twenty minutes straight.

Eventually, the silence got a little too awkward. "Can I ask what Lauren was like as a kid?" Oh, Mira wanted to know as well, but the uncomfortable silence was a convenient excuse.

Sarah worked her jaw for a moment. "Do you know how sometimes you look at someone and know they're destined for great things?"

"Um. No?" Mira hesitantly said.

"I've got a knack for it, I think. Saw it in Craig when we first met; he was just…" she sighed, her mouth twisting in a saddened grimace, "so focused on a battle he was looking at on his shitty flip phone, but not because it was flashy, or because he just liked to look at it. He was learning. It drew me in."

Ah. Mira could get that a little. Sometimes, when she looked at her friends, she saw a passion for battle that she'd never had, with each fight they looked at being a learning moment. She nodded and hummed, letting Sarah know she finally understood.

"Do you have any idea how weird it is to see a seven-year-old fight battles in her own head? Ask her brother to use his Pokemon to train? Know more at her age than we did at fifteen?" Sarah said with a prideful smile. "She was a terrifying little thing. So small, yet so eager to learn." Sarah paused, running a finger below her nose. "But there was a soft side to her as well. Lauren loved taking pictures and drawing Pokemon she found anywhere. Sometimes, some would pose for her, and it'd make her day. Even the wild ones in the city."

"She still draws." Mira remembered the moment they'd shared in that tent on the way to Snowpoint. "Though they're more moments she enjoyed in battle, these days."

"Glad she still has that hobby," Sarah said with a caring nod. "What else? She'd wear Craig's merchandise to school before puberty hit her and she started growing angry at him. She once threw a tantrum because the usual flavor of milkshake she ordered every week was out. One time her parents were out on date night, she blasted music so loud she got the cops called on her house…"

"You do know her well," Mira muttered.

Tears flickered in the sunlight. "I did, but Craig was the one… who told me most of this." Her voice was hoarse when she uttered her dead friend's name.

"Oh." Way to put her foot in her mouth. Sarah hadn't processed his death either, had she? She was just hiding it beneath everything. "Sorry."

"S'alright. Wish I could show him the flying trick," she laughed and sniffled right after. "I learned it while in Kanto— Legendaries, they're fun down there. He'd have looked at me all gobsmacked and— and I'd have asked him to try it. He would have said no a few times, but then he'd do it anyway. Because he was Craig." Below them, Mantine echoed with the sound of the sea. "Thanks, buddy. I'm alright."

Eventually, the Mantine swam past the clouds again, diving under them slowly but surely. This time, the frigid cold didn't hit Mira as hard, and wind whipped around her clothes, causing them to dry immediately. With a happy cry, Mantine continued down toward the water. They were already near the coast somewhere up north, possibly around Veilstone. What was surprising was that they weren't actually going to stop near the beach. Already, Mantine had rushed past it, wind sweeping below them and annoying a bunch of Krabby and Shellos. One of the crabs was even swept off its feet and thrown into the sea.

"Um, the League is still under lockdown, right?" Mira asked. "If you stop, I can call them and let them know you're coming."

Sarah ignored her. She'd been quiet since reminiscing about Craig; a return to the norm. Mira felt a pit form in her stomach the closer Mantine got to the water. Another minute, and they were ten feet above it. Another, and Mantine's wings were grazing it with every movement. Mira was done underestimating Sarah Newman, so she thought there must have been a plan to not get immediately shot down by the League. She knew that lying low helped to not get picked up by radar, and maybe they had a technique to stay hidden from psychics and to turn invisible.

Or maybe, Mantine showed, they were just going to dive underwater. The water closed over her head, cool and enveloping, but there was no fear— Mantine was with her, and she could feel his reassuring presence beside her, him telling her there was nothing to fear with a gentle sing-song cry. As they descended, Mantine's wide, graceful fins carved through the water, propelling them deeper into the ocean's grasp. The light above grew dimmer, the world around them a serene expanse of endless blue. With a soft, almost inaudible hum, Mantine exhaled, and a large, shimmering bubble of air formed around her, drying her instantly. Her mouth felt parched, as did her eyes and skin, but more importantly, Mira could breathe.

The bubble expanded gently, enveloping both Mira and Sarah's entire bodies. Inside, the water receded, replaced by warm, breathable air that filled her lungs with each steady breath. The pressure of the deep sea remained at bay, the bubble acting as a barrier between her and the crushing depths as Mantine went deeper and deeper into the water.

Schools of Goldeen and Magikarp darted past them, curious but unafraid, and she could see the shadowy silhouettes of larger sea creatures in the distance. The outline of a Wailord, illuminated by the few rays of sunlight which ever made it this deep; a pair of Lumineon which glowed like stars within the endless night of the ocean; a Sharpedo prowling at their side until Mantine sent it careening away with a current akin to a strong hurricane.

Mira spoke, but her voice was muffled, unable to be carried toward Sarah's ears. So it had its limits, still. Not that she would often travel with others; Sarah was a solitary trainer at heart. Mantine was a lot faster under the water than in the air, and they zoomed through the ocean so quickly that Mira's bubble of air grew unstable enough to have bits of water touch her arms and face.

But there was no time to worry. They had a sea to cross. And cross it, they did, until Mantine reeled up and jumped up a waterfall.



Back in the day, tradition dictated that anyone who wished to challenge the Elite Four and the Champion must make it through Victory Road. This was before the Conference had been set in place, before the gamification of battles. Make it through here with proof that you'd beaten the other eight Gym Leaders, and you'd get a shot at running the country. It was a tradition taken from Kanto, which had spread to all corners of Shinwa. It had come to Sinnoh through Johtohan immigrants at first, displaced from their homeland by the countless wars between the nascent clans thousands of years ago.

Today, Victory Road was a vestige of what it once had been. Sure, Mira doubted it'd ever been a bustling small town like the Ranger Stations flanking Coronet or at the edge of Eterna Forest, but no one came here anymore save for a chosen few. Even the Pokemon Center was in a state of disrepair, having been shut down a few years prior. Its resplendent orange roof was now chipped, dull orange paint, and had been caved in by a falling boulder from up in the island.

"Huh. That's new," Sarah noted. She stretched with a satisfied moan, arms up in the air as she stared at the caved-in roof. "Guess there was a small landslide."

"...I had a friend who wanted to come here to train to ensure he'd get to the Conference," Mira said. "Well, he's dead now."

"Obviously. No way he would have lived if he was that inexperienced. My condolences." Sarah climbed back on Mantine's wing— the water type was still in the water— and rummaged through one of the large bags on his back. They'd been behind the saddle and protected from getting wet as well. "Let's eat something before we head into the caves."

"No, he— he died in the bombings." It had taken Mira a while to correct her, because this was still a difficult topic to approach. She hadn't even had time to process his death before she'd started running around the region in search of Lauren.

"Oh."

"Yeah. We stopped him from coming here," Mira added. "We saved his life, and he died anyway." Life was ruthless. Sometimes, someone just got unlucky and taken early before they could be great. "I miss him."

They listened to the sound of the waterfall for a little bit. Gallons upon gallons of water coming out from higher up in the mountain. You could see the mist forming at the point of impact with the ocean, rising back up into the sky and dissolving into nothing. The air was moist and humid, clinging to Mira's throat.

Newman grabbed a portable coffee machine. Compact, sleek, and designed for convenience on the go. It was about the size of a large thermos. Next, she grabbed a stove— the same brand that Grace used on the road— and a pack of instant spicy noodles and small chunks of ham. Mira watched her slowly set everything up. Every time she asked if she could help, Sarah would shake her head and grunt. With the press of a button, the coffee machine whirred to life, quietly brewing a rich, aromatic cup of coffee within minutes that Sarah couldn't help but guzzle down. This time, she burned her mouth and yelped, heaving for fresh air that Mantine supplied to her until she recovered.

"'Guess I'll get started on the noodles. You mind spicy food, kid?" she asked, crouching at the stove. She poured some water inside and turned it on. Mira shook her head. "Good, because that's all I have."

What? She only had spicy noodles with ham? Or spicy food in general? The trainer served Mira a bowl first, and she helped herself to her first meal of the day.

Actually, I had you eat breakfast. You were asleep, Mims said.

Second meal of the day, then. Even so, she was famished. The heat spread throughout her mouth— holy fuck, that was spicy. Not just mildly, but possibly the spiciest food Mira had ever eaten. Mira knew she was reinforcing the stereotype that Sinnohans couldn't handle spice, but this was just too much. All of her selves screamed in a panic as she scrambled to drink water from her flask. She downed the entire thing before her mouth got tolerable. Mira glanced down at the orange noodles with a grimace. They tasted good, but would she be able to finish this? Meanwhile, Sarah was slurping them up with metallic chopsticks like they were just your average noodles.

Mims gasped, this is an… assassination attempt. She wants to kill us.

She can't kill us using spicy food! She's just a dick!
Mirabelle whined. And don't you even think about making me deal with all the pain of this! Distribute it equally!

Mira believed what might have happened was that Newman's spice tolerance was so high she'd forgotten what it was like to have a normal mouth. She refilled her water with Mantine's help (she was in no position to complain about where it came from) and slowly started working on getting food in her system. As Mirabelle said, if she distributed the pain, it was at least tolerable enough to eat without a fuss.

Sarah finished her food far before Mira did. Once she did, her finger pressed on one of her Pokeballs, and an amorphous pink blob slumped to the ground with a pathetic gurgle at her side.

Sarah looked at the Ditto writhe on the floor. "Sable, you're on lighting duty today; we're going into Victory Road."

The blob sighed as one, exhaling throughout their entire body. Within three blinks, they were already changed into a Magnemite. Even their eye, which was a Ditto's biggest giveaway during their transformation, was impossible to distinguish from a normal Magnemite. This Ditto was as good as Abel's at transforming into things.

"This is Sable. They don't speak very much, and they won't be annoying, just don't touch them in any way, shape, or form. They don't like it." The Ditto's magnets twirled at their side, and they settled on their trainer's lap, as if to say 'except for you!' They changed again, this time mimicking their trainer's appearance exactly as their legs happily tapped the ground. "If you're going to be heavy, get off my lap," Sarah complained.

Ditto huffed, instead opting to go chat with Mantine. The way they moved their hands instead of speaking— yes, that was sign language, Mira was sure of it.

"Intrigued?" Sarah questioned as she sipped on her coffee.

"Kind of?" Mira admitted.

"The Game Corner had them battle in their fighting rings. They were one of their most famous fighters, with all the transforming and whatnot, and they could trick viewers into thinking another Pokemon was fighting." Sarah gripped her cup tightly. "At some point, Sable just… got tired of it. They just laid down and stopped fighting. They threw them out in a dumpster like they were a broken appliance and not a living being." Her usually deep voice was even lower, almost threatening, until the moment passed and her face lit up again. "I'm glad that place finally shut down."

"So they're a rescue?"

When Sarah just nodded and decided that was the end of the conversation, Mira slowly finished her noodles. Sarah cleaned up their makeshift camp, putting everything back on Mantine, and told the water type to wait for them here and to go eat again if they ever got hungry. She'd brought too much stuff for two people to carry inside a cave.

Then;

She let out her starter.

The Dragalge drifted through the air like a queen in her domain, her movements slow and deliberate. Her dark, kelp-like fronds flowed behind her like a flower, and it pulsated with a bright red. Her dark pupil swiveled toward Mira, and she felt the instinctive need to bow her head. The edges of her body were akin to tough driftwood, still supple enough to bend and flow with the air and water, and if Mira squinted enough, she could see the poison shimmer beneath Dragalge's air sack. Sarah smiled at the poison type, explaining the situation at hand.

"I'd let out Weavile, but you'd pass out," Sarah added, unbothered. "We've trained his Pressure to the highest level."

Mira wanted to say she could handle it, but the truth was, she had no idea if diffusing it between her other selves would work properly or if it'd just hit each of them with the same strength as the Distortion World had, to the point where they had all cowered and left her.

"Fine. If you're sure you can handle the wild Pokemon?" Mira shifted across the ground, clearly nervous as the reality of the situation set in. Sure, she'd been in awful situations before— Solaceon, the raid in Pastoria, Coronet, and beyond— but she still wasn't used to how nervous it made her. "You have more Pokemon, don't you?"

Sarah didn't respond. Instead, the thin woman hoisted her bag on her back and made her way into the cave. Mira hastily followed without a word, as did Dragalge and Ditto. Unlike Coronet, whose entrances were wide, cavernous maws that seemed to whisper in your ear with the wind, Victory Road only had a single entryway, and it was tight. It was almost hidden, a narrow, jagged opening carved into the face of the mountainside. It was no grand gateway, but a dark, winding crevice, just wide enough for a single person to squeeze through, forcing them to turn sideways and duck beneath the rough stone. Sable turned back into a Magnemite and flashed light deep into the corridor, showing that it'd remain this claustrophobic for at least one hundred feet forward. Dragalge, meanwhile, easily fit through the narrow passage, eyes scanning the pathway ahead and with a subtle, turquoise glow around her skin.

At least the ground was even and easy to walk on. Mira slowly pushed herself along the facade, her hands touching the rough, bent stone. The jagged rock jutted out at odd angles, catching the light and casting sharp, shifting shadows that danced upon the walls.

Denzel had told Mira about a first-year who had decided to come train here after her eighth badge, shortly before the bombings. One of the few who'd gotten that far. A certain Marley, whose starter was an Arcanine. Mira figured anyone must have been insane to go here of their own volition, especially if they were that green. Even Sarah had agreed, in Justin's case.

At last, they made it past the tight entrance. Mira sagged against her knees and took a few deep breaths. It had gotten real tight near the end to the point where she could barely take a full breath. The air was cool and crisp, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and salt. With Sable's help, they could see far and wide within Victory Road. Unlike Coronet, this was a cavern of winding paths and ever changing elevation, like it had formed naturally instead of being crafted as a throne.

Pokemon here were not as self-contained to their spots, either. Whereas in Coronet, she would have stumbled on Machop, Geodude, Graveler or similar weaker Pokemon, here in Victory Road, she found Golem, a Machamp, Golbat by the hundred clinging to ceilings and even an Aggron, all spread throughout the cave and screaming at the light brought upon them. Instinctively, Mira released her Alakazam and Gardevoir, who took to their roles easily given that they were used to being released in dangerous situations without context.

"We're just passing through," Sarah tried, unbothered by all the attention.

Few attacked. Most eyes were glued to Dragalge, who simply exhaled and somehow managed to still be threatening. Those that did— the Golem and a group of Golbat— were immediately choked out by poison so thin Mira could barely see it and immediately rendered unconscious. The noxious air had wormed its way up their lungs, making sure they wouldn't even need to breathe to feel its effect. A dozen Golbat rained from the sky, and the Golem fell on its back, eyes rolled up into its head.

"What can you do?" Sarah scratched her head, looking at her Dragalge's work. "I haven't been here in a while, so I guess they were going to attack. Follow."

Mira jogged behind her large strides as she talked to Alakazam and Gardevoir. The latter found herself neatly nestled in her head, spreading a cold feeling through Mira's brain. Here, she could chat with her other selves and get as much attention as she craved. Mia especially was soothed by Gardevoir's company. The feeling diffused into her, and she hung onto the fairy type's arm as they made their way deeper into the cave.

"Usually, you'd train by challenging Pokemon open to a fight. That way, you both get something out of it," Sarah explained. "Things don't always work out that way. Anyway, it's good that you're here, you're going to use your psychics to ask the Pokemon around here if they've seen Lauren."

"Are any open to speak?" Mira asked, looking around. Most had run off when Dragalge had shown off her power.

"I'm sure we'll find one eventually. Knowing Lauren, she's deeper in the cave, anyway. She has eight badges, these Pokemon would challenge her some, but not much. She'll be looking for something harder than this."

So they made their way down, spending hours traveling through Victory Road. Mira knew that if she'd been alone, this experience would have been harrowing and torture, but Sarah's presence made it a walk in the park, save for the tough parts to navigate or climb. Luckily, Pokemon served as a good substitute for climbing gear.

Most Pokemon did not want to give them the time of day, mostly due to Dragalge's menacing presence. It took them nearly a full day to stumble upon a nice Probopass that Gardevoir and Ditto managed to charm, very deep into the cave. Luckily for them, they'd not only stumbled upon the remains of a camping site a few hours earlier, and Probopass had seen a human girl with jet black hair walk through here. In exchange for information, the steel type demanded to test itself against Dragalge, a battle which it handily lost, but Sarah made sure to help him up with potions, at the very least.

They were willing to put off sleep, if it meant finding her faster. Mira punted off her tiredness to her other selves save for Processing, which for once they didn't complain about, and Sarah hadn't slept a wink since they'd met, but the woman seemed to sustain herself off caffeine. Probopass led them deeper into the cave in the direction Lauren had gone in until they made it to a cliff.

It was only when Sable illuminated the area that Mira saw the way forward. A river system continued to another waterfall inside the cave, its splashing audible even from up here. There was only one path that remained— a straight, narrow trail hugged by the cliff and the wall. Probopass made its way back to its home, and they proceeded deeper in. All Mira could do was hope they'd gone in the right direction.

Twenty-eight hours after they'd entered Victory Road, they found her.

Lauren was a mess, as expected. Dirtied clothing, tangled hair, bloodshot eyes, and a face smeared by dirt and dust. She was huddled next to her Sceptile, who was the only Pokemon with her. What caught Mira's eyes was the scarlet red on her hands. Dried blood from wounds in her nails, probably from using them around the cave too much. Not only that, but her glasses were cracked, and one lens was gone entirely.

She had headphones on, meaning she hadn't heard them yet, but Sceptile quickly caught wind of their presence. He warned her by shaking her a little— she seemed catatonic— but after a few attempts, she raised her head and looked at Mira and Sarah. Lauren flinched, nearly deciding to run away right then and there, but she stood her ground when she realized who was there.

A confused "what?" was all the teenager could muster. With a sluggish movement of her legs, she slowly stood up as her eyes narrowed. "What in the world are you doing here?" Her gaze seemed antagonistic, particularly toward Sarah.

Mira looked up at her benefactor, but she shrugged and nudged her forward.

This was her job.

"Thank the Legendaries, you're safe." Mira found herself gasping. Now that she knew Lauren was at least alive, she could at least relax a little. "I've been looking for you all over ever since I came back from Coronet, Lauren. It's not safe for you here—"

"I'm training. Leave." The interruption was sharp and brutal, as if Lauren couldn't afford her a care in the world.

It hurt like hell.

"You're clearly unwell. You've lost weight!" Mira insisted, fists clenching. Her cheekbones were more sunken in than usual. "I'm sorry for your loss, Lauren. I understand what it's like to lose someone close to you. I understand and can help you. But you're hurting yourself. It's time to go home, or you'll miss the ceremony and the funeral—"

Lauren lashed out, face reddening with anger, "I don't want to go there! I don't want to!" Ah. Was she was burying her head in the sand, unwilling to acknowledge that her brother had died. "Nearly all of the people who'll be at the fucking ceremony, they won't have known him! They were just fans! Fakes! They're all using him; he doesn't… he doesn't deserve this," she sobbed, face hidden in her hands.

It was true. Poketch, the government, and many people were going to use Craig's death for their own gain. That was how the world worked. It was unfair, unjust, and miserable, but that was how things went.

But she couldn't say that.

"What about his Pokemon?" Mira softly asked. "What about your parents? They're worried sick about you, and they're all grieving too."

"Roxie…" Lauren muttered. "No. No, get out of my head!" she snapped, wildly gesturing with her hands. "Enough of this."

Damn it. "I won't leave until I get you out of here." Worst case scenario, Sarah would have to do something about this, not that she seemed particularly inclined to. "What can I do to change your mind?"

Lauren's back slowly straightened, and she ground her teeth and hoarsed out a single word. "Battle."

"...what?"

"I was doing well until you showed up. I want nothing to do with you," Mira felt like she'd been stabbed in the heart, "or Sarah Newman, or any of you. You abandoned me, left me alone, and I nearly died to a bomb! And you still won't tell me what really happened in Coronet, I bet!" Lauren's tone rose the more she talked. "You showed up here, so let's battle so you weren't a waste of time."

Disheveled, crass, dirty and standing like she was just so exhausted, yet possessed enough to keep going. Lauren breathed battling, nourished herself through battling, existed through battling, grieved through battling. She was a born fighter, thrashing to free herself of the pain she was continuously feeling at the demise of her brother. Teeth gnashing, hands bleeding, and with every shivering word was enough anger to burn this entire cave to smithereens.

"I'll arbitrate," Sarah said.

Lauren let out some kind of feral, annoyed growl. "Acceptable. Volis, get ready."

Mira nodded, not knowing what to say. She wasn't a full-fledged, committed trainer; she couldn't win. Lauren already had her starter out, the lean Sceptile whose leaves Mira knew were sharp enough to cut through stone. The grass type wasn't wounded at all from his time in Victory Road, and he gave Mira an apologetic stare. He knew what he had to do. Sceptile crouched with a reptilian hiss that grew raspy and pointed the longer it went on. Lauren raised a hand, and he silenced himself as soon as she closed a fist. She tweaked her earphones, and Mira could hear her music blasting from here, reverberating through the cave even through the device. A cacophony of screams right at home with heavy metal.

"This will be," Lauren gasped, "a six-on-six battle with no switches. Send out. Your Pokemon." She gnawed at her overgrown nails, tearing at pieces of it, and Mira flinched when their eyes met.

It was as if she'd been looking at a beast. There was nothing but dark anger at the world in them. A desire to see it all blown apart, piece by piece, for taking Craig away from her. Mira shared a knowing look with her psychics and recalled Alakazam.

She'd forgotten what it meant, to be a trainer.

It was to speak through battle.

"Gardevoir," she rasped out. "You're up."

At once, the fairy said, gliding a few feet ahead.

Drip. Drip. Drip. The constant echo of drops of water, seeping into the ground high above and raining through the cave's ceiling. Everything was so quiet, save for the subtle muffled music, the river and waterfall far below, and Mira's every breath. Sarah raised her arm, and sweat dripped down Mira's neck. Understanding drifted through her, one where all of her selves would have to work together in tandem to not crash and burn and have a chance at mending things.

Then;

She brought it down.

Mira was no full-fledged trainer capable of standing up to the best, but she had a few tricks of her own.

"Nature's Wrath!" Lauren barked out.

When Sceptile howled at the sky, the cave glowed green, pulsating like veins in a body. Vines creaked through the floor, old vegetation that had been hidden away, greedily sucking onto the cave's moisture for sustenance. Mira knew Lauren, and she'd known that she'd start with arguably the strongest move in her arsenal. Every single inch of the cavern hummed, yet Mira had a precious resource to ready herself for what was coming.

Time to think. Nature's Wrath was, at its core, unlike Frenzy Plant due to how it had been adapted specially for Sceptile. It had been a move she'd been working on to fight Candice for her eighth badge, and the mere act provided Sceptile not just thorny plants to batter his opponent with, but a resource to use whenever he was obstructed by the weather.

"Let's reach her heart," Mira whispered. "Lance."

Gardevoir's foot grew hot, bursting in flames as she kicked the floor. Rocks erupted, glowing hot from the fire as they coalesced around a pink baton that grew from the fairy type's hands. They formed into a sharp, elongated pointy end that glowered and vibrated with glamour and psychic energy, along with a counterweight near the end of the shaft for balance.

With a menacing hiss, Sceptile prowled low, jumping forward so quickly he turned into a blur of green and red. Fast. So fast Mira had only seen Grace's Electivire go faster. Her thoughts were quicker, still, but her mouth was a human's. Gardevoir found herself under assault from hundreds of coiling vines bursting from the wall to her right and the floor, yet she cut them apart with a deft move of her lance. With every movement, the weapon emitted a high-pitched, humming sound that had a continuous, oscillating quality, akin to a powerful electrical buzz, and it left trails of light in the air.

It was a distraction. Sceptile was already there. A neon green blade grew from his wrists, and he cut through Gardevoir's robe, bleeding her. It splattered on the walls of the cave, yet the psychic's lance caught fire, and she started dodging. Narrowly, at first, so much so that Sceptile grazed her cheek, arms, legs, and neck with each strike. Her eyes shone with the power of Future Sight, and a slice upward from her lance stabbed into Sceptile's gut, predicting his dodge to the left toward the cliff.

"Mystical Fire!" Mira yelled.

Sceptile caught ablaze; a brilliant torch of blue flame that had spread from the tip of Gardevoir's lance to his entire body. The grass type croaked in pain, but neither the heat nor the stab wound stopped him from moving. His hand went for Gardevoir's throat, sucking her energy with Giga Drain until she managed to Teleport away.

Seeing a second into the future didn't matter if she didn't have time to react.

He's trying to throw you off the cliff, Mira warned Gardevoir. If I have to recall you, you're done.

She was done talking, at least with her. It'd put them at too much of a disadvantage; her mouth was too slow.

The fairy type brushed against her throat, where she found seeds growing around her and feeding Nature's Wrath directly. She attempted to burn them off or rip them off her, but they were attached too well for her to use her hands and they blew up on her head as soon as they burned. Fuck. Gardevoir shook her head, burned and smoking with spores and dust, which sent her into a wild coughing fit. Low powered spores, unlike Roserade or Tangrowth's, but powerful enough to bother her nonetheless.

Meanwhile, Sceptile cut apart one of the vines, regenerating the damage from the burns. Scorched scales turned as good as new, and his eyes snapped open with renewed vigor. Every second, she'd have to strike down another vine bursting from the wall, trying to keep her still by clenching around her ankles or just straight up stabbing her.

"Attack, attack, attack!" Lauren yelled, stomping a foot down. "Don't let them collect themselves!"

Try Psychic to land some hits! Mira thought.

Gardevoir snapped her lance over her knee, dividing it in two, and pink light took over her eyes as another pointed end grew using more rocks from the cave. Sceptile slowed when he got within ten feet due to Psychic, but his momentum carried him enough for him to tackle Gardevoir to the ground. Now on top of her, he once again seized her throat, but the psychic threw half of her lance into the overhang above. The implement lodged itself into the ceiling, creating a spiderweb-like crack that spread throughout the rock until it collapsed on both of them.

With an annoyed grunt, Sceptile turned and brought his hand up. Vines stabbed through the debris that would have fallen on him, keeping the stones afloat, and he finished the job with Gardevoir, throwing her over the cliff—

Until she snapped back to where she'd once been with Teleport, skidding across the rock. Mira's hand had already beelined to her Pokeball, but Gardevoir was a fighter. With half her lance remaining, she commanded the rocks closest to her, snapping them into a hundred weapons to throw at Sceptile.

It didn't matter. He was too fast, too agile, he too easily cut them apart with Leaf Blade, and the few of the moves that hit, he just regenerated using Nature's Wrath. The focus required left Gardevoir open to more hits, and the grass type had nearly rewritten the entire battlefield to his advantage. There was not an inch of ground under his influence without a vine to use, a seed to explode, or spores to unleash. Sceptile was a hit-and-run fighter meant to outlast his opponents, not a Pokemon meant to fight head-on without a plan like her Magmortar.

They were going to lose. We have to go big. The next fighter will use your work as a stepping stone, Mira quickly communicated. Moonblast!

Concentration was not something easy to come by, when fighting Lauren's Sceptile. At times, it seemed like the gecko was everywhere at once. Gardevoir used a few of the rocks at her disposal to turn her pointed lance into a blade. Scaffolding. Mira's sworn knight and protector allowed the blade to grow to twice her size, and it fell upon the ground with the weight of her belief, stabbing through it like butter. Lauren wasn't in the best state of mind to strategize, so Sceptile was still on the attack. With one smooth motion, a push of his leg against one of his vines, he rushed toward Gardevoir in hopes of finishing her off.

The moon materialized, wrapping around her sword. Like steel folded hundreds of times into the sharpest and sturdiest of blades.

She wielded the moon as a weapon. Despite its size, the hilt was slender, elegantly curved, and shimmered with a silver light, as if forged from the purest moonlight. The blade itself was sharp and sleek, its surface a mirror of the night sky, reflecting the stars that dotted the heavens above. Even Sceptile looked unsure of himself for the first time, and the mere energy wafting off the sword was enough to cripple his plants.

Gardevoir was her ace. She would not go down without a fight.

Land a hit, Mira pleaded.

Blade slung over her shoulder—

Gardevoir Teleported inches away from Sceptile with her sword already in motion. He ducked under the blade, but he found himself still gouged by the sliver of power wrought by the cosmos and was sent careening off to the side. He slid against the ground on all fours and threw himself back into the fight, wrist-blades dimming with darkness. Knock Off or Throat Chop? It was masked too well to know. The tip of Gardevoir's sword zapped with lightning that flew in an arc toward Sceptile. With a grin, he jumped and twisted mid-air. He arranged his vines like a rubber band anchored into the ceiling that he used to go so fast Mira barely registered the Throat Chop hitting the back of her Gardevoir's neck.

The knight fell on one knee. Cracks of light appeared along the blade until it dissolved. In that moment of rapture, the blade exploded with untold power that washed over Mira and made her see stars until she blinked them away. Lauren was seemingly in the same boat, rubbing her eyes with a savage grin at her first win. There were no psychic barriers here.

Just fighting.

"Gardevoir is unable to battle," Sarah said, tone finally gripped with interest. "Mira, send out your next Pokemon."

Wiping the sweat off her brow, she had a look at the state of the battlefield. Rocks hung like satellites from the ceiling, and thorny plants littered the entire floor. It was similar to Vine Terrain, but different in the way it served to give Sceptile far more mobility instead of swarming opponents with more vines than they knew what to do with. The hair on her arms stood on end as she racked her brain for an answer.

Exeggcute was a no-go; they were too weak to do anything to Sceptile. Alakazam, she'd rather save for the last leg of the fight as a force multiplier. It'd have to be anyone else.

Like an old-school trainer, Mira threw her next Pokeball up, releasing Magnezone onto the field. His bulk and flight would give him the advantage, and he too, could use fire type attacks from Tri-Attack. Lauren cracked her neck, a sound that the cave carried, and she licked her lips.

"Enough holding back," she decided. "Dragon Dance into Low Kick, let's go!"

Shit. Shit, shit, shit! "Reflect and keep your distance! Hit and run!" Mira yelled.

Turquoise light overtook every inch of Sceptile's skin as the grass type allowed himself to come under the influence of draconic energy with a wild, yet short ritualistic dance. Speed that once was at least manageable turned to out of this world. Sceptile flickered in and out of Mira's field of view, each movement creating a veritable storm of leaves that harmed even Magnezone's tough shell. Everything was so confusing; Sceptile was barely visible, camouflaged behind his Leaf Storm. It was so loud she could barely hear herself think, and that was what she was supposed to be good at.

Lauren cackled wildly, her hands tracing the contours of her face, and Sceptile jumped just as the thin layer of reflective light finished coating Magnezone.

He'd used one of his plants as a trampoline. Magnezone fired rays of electricity and fire at him, but he was so fast he was already there before they could fire off. Sceptile used his momentum to carry enough strength in his kick to dent metal. He'd gone so fast in fact that his feet and skin sizzled from the heat born from the friction in the air. Magnezone crashed higher into the ceiling, where he was assaulted by plants and beaten with rocks until he fell to the ground unconscious.

Without future sight and Teleporting, that was where she was left. The gap was too wide to hope to close with her usual tactics. Mira pushed the back of her teeth with her tongue and wondered how in the world she was going to beat this thing? She wasn't a good trainer, all she had were feelings and hope.

Feelings and hope had never won her anything.

"Are you watching me, Craig?" Lauren asked the cave, turning in every direction with each word. "I'll do it. I'll win it in your name!"

Mira never knew shivering in pity was possible, yet she'd done just that. She wanted to win the Conference in her brother's name to carry his legacy, to bring his will over the finish line. She'd given up her individuality for this, as if it would bring her brother back. She had let herself be wounded, lost weight and possibly not slept in days. This was self-harm. Mira shut her eyes to stop the avalanche of tears and recalled her Magnezone.

Focus, every single one of her minds thought. A closer look at Sceptile showed the grass type breathing heavily. Even if he could regenerate faster than they could deal damage, eventually, exhaustion would catch up with him. It had to.

"Oh, shit. I nearly forgot." Sarah scratched the back of her neck. She'd been so interested in the battle she hadn't announced Magnezone being defeated. "Magnezone is unable to battle. Mira, send out your third Pokemon. Gosh."

Mira released Porygon2 next. The digital Pokemon was so small as it hovered in the air. It wasn't specialized for fighting, but Magnezone was and it had done nothing to help. Mira had to think outside the box, if she wanted to claw at least one victory away from Lauren.

"Download!" Mira ordered.

Within the next second, Porygon2 was faster. She'd stolen Sceptile's hastened speed and made it hers. Sceptile crouched on one knee, closing one eye to aim little shurikens toward the normal type, but all he hit was the wall behind her. The little leaves lodged themselves deep into the rock.

Mira continued with haste, "attack mode." Porygon2 continued to avoid every attack like the wind, but something in her eyes changed. Intent. The intent to harm, the intent to fight, the intent to attack. "Conversion into grass."

She shimmered green, and the deed was done. When Sceptile finally landed a hit, having come closer to corner Porygon2, it had minimal effect on her new outer coat of grass TE. Mira ordered for a Lock-On followed by Tri Attack, and the electric, ice and fire beam all converged on Sceptile's chest. The grass type's Dragon Dance was so well-honed that even Porygon2's attacks went faster. However, the Leaf Storm was still raging, and it was difficult to be delusional enough to think they would outlast Sceptile.

Lauren pointed up at Porygon2 "Jump again— Brick Break, this time!"

Sceptile's entire arm turned bright white as the floor bent to accommodate him. In a blur, he propelled himself onto the wall and then had another jump toward Porygon2. Mira knew that Brick Break would have a chance to break past Conversion, yet she was undeterred.

"Glitch through!"

She'd barely had the time to finish that sentence before Sceptile found his hand an inch away from Porygon2. Just before the attack made contact, Porygon2's form began to shimmer and distort, its smooth, angular body breaking into jagged, pixelated fragments. Like a game character phasing through a wall, she made it through the Brick Break unphased and exploded in a burst of ice that clung to Sceptile's scales. The grass type let out an annoyed hiss as it cut into another vine and garnered the scant energy, making efficient use of it to heal himself. A seed exploded on the wall Porygon2 was closest to, a signal to keep away from anywhere Sceptile might influence.

Porygon2 followed up with another Lock-On, eyes narrowing toward her opponent—

"Change of plans," Lauren growled. "Leaf Tornado."

The storm suddenly intensified in a circle around Porygon2, and the normal type struggled to tell where exactly Sceptile was, from the way the Tri Attack went horribly wide and beyond the cliff. The Leaf Tornado was slowly bringing the normal type toward the walls, where Sceptile would be able to use his Nature's Wrath more efficiently to hit her. Even now, the cavern was rumbling with the advent of more vegetation. Was his stamina fucking bottomless?

Once, twice, thrice, Porygon2 tried to break out using a burst of flames, but hers were even weaker than Gardevoir's. She attempted to glitch out of it, but that was like trying to swim against the current in a river. It was just delaying the inevitable. Now close to the wall, Lauren again let Sceptile climb up the same facade. This time, it literally ran along it like it wasn't even affected by gravity, arm glowing with the power of Brick Break.

"Discharge, now!"

The air around her began to hum with a growing intensity, charged with the anticipation of the imminent attack. The hum escalated into a sharp crackle, radiating pulses of electric yellow light that rippled across the cave. Sceptile still managed to easily break through the Conversion, which shattered and crumpled to dust as the Brick Break bore down on Porygon2's back.

That was it, Mira thought as Porygon2 fell to the ground. One clean hit, and they were out. Sceptile landed without a hitch, but when he tried to loosen his muscles again to be ready to dash at anything Mira sent out, electricity coursed through him, making him freeze up for a second until it disappeared.

He was paralyzed.

This was their chance.

"Porygon2 is unable to battle…"

Their chance to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.

"...send out your fourth Pokemon."

"Alakazam!" Mira screamed. With a brilliant flash of red, the psychic type appeared right in front of Sceptile. "Battle!"

Alakazam did not have Future Sight, but it was the smartest species on this planet behind Metagross. Countless possibilities lay before him as Sceptile raised his hand and the leaves on his wrist took on a wicked sharpness and an emerald glow. If she'd been able to see his eyes, if his back hadn't been to her, Mira would have seen it within him. Calculating.

Power Trick came first. A subtle glow, a coil of energy within his arms as his muscles bulged large enough to grow to three times their size in an instant. Then, a touch of fire around his fist as one of his spoons moved with a hypnotic bend in his other hand— Kinesis. Sceptile's eyes mellowed as he stared at the spoon, and a fiery punch buried itself deep in the grass type's gut.

He was not finished.

Psychic to pull him in, then another hit. Another psychic, then another hit. Another, another, another, another until his belly was scorched by the touch of fire, blackened to a charred, smoldering crisp.

"Focus on my voice!" Lauren asked, no, demanded. The power in her voice snapped Sceptile out of this loop, and the grass type's tail rustled as bug type energy diffused from the appendage. The endless noise snapped Alakazam from his focus, and Sceptile finally slipped away.

So even if Gardevoir had managed to grab him, he would have had this to get out?

Fuck.

"Transition to speed," Mira muttered. She hadn't needed to; they both saw it was the best move.

What had gone to boost his strength now went to his legs, and Alakazam found himself quick enough to keep up with a usual speedster. While Sceptile was no usual Pokemon, the paralysis would work well to give Alakazam the edge. Spoon sharpened with Psycho Cut, he dashed in and out in an attempt to finish off Sceptile, keeping his contact with the ground at a minimum to narrow the window the grass type had to use Giga Drain through the floor. The only times they managed to hit were when Paralysis sprung to action and made Sceptile freeze for a moment. Combine that with Teleport, and now they were cooking with gas.

His left shoulder.

His right thigh.

His back.

Slowly but surely, Sceptile was getting hit. He tried retaliating with X-Scissor, but Alakazam was faster—

"Now!" Lauren swept her arm with a mad grin.

Mira knew her friend. She only had this particular smile when something was about to explode. She was vindicated when every single area began to swell and grow. Every plant, every vine, every seed expanded like a cancer until they reached critical mass and—

A flash of light. Golden like the sun. The cave walls, lined with jagged rocks and ancient crystals, momentarily turned to blinding white as the energy surged forward. The cave erupted into a violent explosion, shaking its very foundations. The blast wave roared through the cavern, shattering rocks and sending debris flying in all directions. The explosion's roar echoed off the cavern walls, a thunderous sound that reverberated through the tunnels and crevices and amplified the destruction. Smoke and debris filled the air, obscuring Mira's view, but her heart sank for Lauren.

The explosion was massive, and it would have hurt them had Sarah's Ditto not been here. They'd transformed into a Kadabra and shielded both Lauren and Mira. A rock had been hurled right into her face, but it bounced off the barrier like a pillow and fell off the side of the cliff. She heard it land in the river below with a loud splash, followed by the faint, echoing ripples fading into the distance.

So Lauren had made her Sceptile into a beast nearly impossible to take down, and once the situation became untenable, she just blew it up? That was new! She'd really put the wrath in Nature's Wrath. It wasn't even over. The remaining spores and energy all coalesced back on Sceptile's body— no fucking way this was happening. His scales started to shimmer as they began to mend. The cracks gradually filled in, the damaged patches smoothing out and blending back into their original texture. The burnt spots faded, and the scorch marks dissipated as new, healthy scales grew to replace the lost ones.

All the resources they'd gathered from the ground, all the energy they'd stolen from Mira's Pokemon had exploded and reentered Sceptile's body to heal him as if nothing had happened.

Was this thing even beatable? Mira had seen it train and go toe-to-toe with Magmortar, constantly regenerating through his flames, but this was an entirely new level of bullshit. Mira was so out of her depth that it felt like she could barely keep her head above the water. Her ears were still ringing, but the worst of it had also been contained by Sable.

"One last ride, Volis." Lauren almost sounded rabid.

The grass type's chest puffed up, and he took a deep breath. The paralysis was still there, as was the tiredness. Most of it, anyway. Meanwhile, Alakazam had brought up a hasty shield around himself, but it had shattered under the force of the explosion, and he remained on the ground a smoldering heap. Once Sarah had her spiel about Mira sending her next Pokemon, she took a little time to allow the tiredness to set into Sceptile's bones. Her friends often did this, but this was the first time she'd applied it in a fight.

Thirty seconds. The cliffside was utterly destroyed, with only a narrow stretch of ground to fight on. The space between the cliff and the wall had been utterly ravaged, leaving behind a jagged, hollowed-out expanse bent nearly forty-five degrees to the side. Ordinarily, Sceptile would have good footing even here, but not after so many battles fought. Not after so much struggle.

Mira released her Gengar.

A raspy cackle that spewed noxious air wherever he went. Teeth upon teeth, needle-like and unsettling enough to send a chill up Mira's spine, even now. The grin was almost too wide, stretching across too much of his face, and Gengar was transparent enough for Mira to see it through his back. As he floated, the shadowy aura around Gengar pulsed with an unsettling rhythm that carried with it whispers of the dead. The surrounding shadows seemed to respond to Gengar's presence, elongating and shifting in sync with its movements. The gaseous Pokemon looked back at Mira, as if to ask if he could have fun and fight the tired Sceptile.

"Behave; this is a normal battle," Mira warned. "Poison Gas."

With each cough, more of the toxic fumes billowed out of Gengar's mouth. A cold wind swept across the cliffside to carry it toward Sceptile, but the grass type countered with another Leaf Storm. Gengar disappeared, spreading himself thin across the poison until his blood-red eyes popped up right in front of Sceptile, and he bit into the grass type's arm. His teeth turned to a putrid-smelling purple that Mira could distinguish even through the barrier, and Gengar injected poison directly into Sceptile's bloodstream.

The grass type's arm was corroding. Slowly but surely, more and more veins turned to a menacing purple below his scales. Without Nature's Wrath here to be a third set of limbs, Sceptile's influence no longer reached every inch of the battlefield. He was fast, but Gengar could instantly travel through his poison. His Leaf Storm wasn't enough to send all of the poison away when Gengar was continuously producing more.

So they switched strategy.

"Don't lose lying down!" Lauren raged. "Exploding Bullet Seed!"

Combining Seed Bomb and Bullet Seed— a common high level move, yet destructive nonetheless. There was a reason it was so widespread. The force of the explosion would risk Sceptile falling off into oblivion beyond the cliff, but they would do a better job at clearing away the gas. Like a machine gun, seeds came out of Sceptile as he swept his tail, each blowing up in succession. Gengar groaned, and his was a cacophony of pained spirits, but he followed up with a Will-O-Wisp whose flames were solid enough to get through the explosions, and the purple flames entered Sceptile's body with a jubilant scream.

Burned. Paralyzed. Poisoned.

Mira snapped her fingers, and Gengar brought forth the most powerful of Hexes Mira had ever seen. The ghostly energy wrapped around Sceptile like tendrils, ransacking through his body until he was brought to his knees. His body smoked and smelled like burned grass as he slowly slid down the cliff, but Lauren recalled him before he could fall down.

"Sceptile is unable to battle. Lauren, send out your second Pokemon."

Lauren's hands froze above her Pokeballs. Some kind of clarity returned to her eyes behind her broken glasses.

Her starter, her brother's gift, was gone. Unable to fight and unconscious.

It had…

It had an effect.

The thirty seconds passed without Lauren moving an inch.

"I think the battle's over, Mira," Sarah said.

It was. Five Pokemon to take down one of hers, but Lauren had lost the fight on a technicality. Mira's legs felt like jelly, and she was so exhausted she could barely keep walking straight. Arceus, she fucking hated battling. Mira slowly made her way across the thin ledge that remained from their battle. She nearly slipped a few times, but Sable was there to keep her safe.

Lauren looked right at her with a mixture of pain and anger. Her starter, whom she had clearly believed indomitable in this battle, had lost. Just like her brother. She must have believed Craig would always be here, that she'd always be able to chase after him until they finally had a battle where she'd finally surpass him.

Lauren burst into tears as soon as Mira grabbed her. She collapsed into her arms, and Mira gently stroked her back until she started sobbing too. Arceus, she was horribly dirty, but that didn't matter in the moment.

"I'm sorry," Mira said. "I'm so sorry."

Lauren's words were incoherent, but Mira managed to make out an apology of her own. She cried for a good while, finishing long after the adrenaline had drained from Mira's body. Mira knew she was back to being at least functional when she started pushing away from her hug. She'd never been a fan of physical contact, unless it was limited and in specific circumstances like this one.

"Let's go home, now."

Lauren sniffled. "Okay."

Mira was whole again, and she loved this girl so much she thought her heart was going to burst.

"I love you too."

What.

What?

Mira looked up at her friend and saw her usual intense stare, although softened by grief.

Had she said that out loud?

Fucking. Mims.

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Chapter 326 - The Funeral New
Togekiss/Princess (Hustle) - Pound, Sweet Kiss, Growl, Headbutt, Fairy Wind, Ancient Power, Extrasensory, Thunder Wave, Air Cutter, Wish, Psychic, Shadow Ball, Dazzling Gleam, Moonblast, Charge Beam, Air Slash, Mystical Fire, Tri-Attack, Nasty Plot, Defog

Jellicent/Buddy (Water Absorb) - Bubblebeam, Night Shade, Absorb, Water Sport, Water Pulse, Hex, Poison Sting, Mist, Acid Armor, Shadow Ball, Recover, Brine, Whirlpool, Hydro Pump, Water Spout, Acid, Will-O-Wisp, Ice Beam, Taunt, Scald, Boil, Freeze, Protect, Ice Blade, Rain Dance, Extrasensory

Electivire/Honey (Motor Drive) - Thundershock, Swift, Electric Swift, Thunder Punch, Charge, Leer, Ice Punch, Thunderbolt, Discharge, Fire Punch, Protect, Cross Chop, Thunder, Low-Kick, Screech, Radiant Leap, Static Shield, Bulldoze, Hammer Arm, Rain Dance, Lightning Bolt

Tangrowth/Angel (Chlorophyll) - Vine Whip, Absorb, Mega Drain, Stun Spore, Bind, Poison Powder, Leech Seed, Ancient Power, Power Whip, Knock Off, Sunny Day, Giga Drain, Sleep Powder, Solar Beam, Solar Blade, Brick Break, Ingrain, Bulldoze

Tyranitar/Sweetheart (Sand Stream) - Leer, Tackle, Horn Attack, Rock Throw, Payback, Stomping Tantrum, Smack Down, Bite, Rock Slide, Crunch, Sandstorm, Iron Defense, Dragon Pulse, Iron Head, Earthbreaker, Aerial Ace, Stone Edge, Dark Pulse, Rock Polish, Surf, Earthquake

Turtonator/Sunshine (Shell Armor) - Smog, Ember, Smokescreen, Incinerate, Iron Defense, Flamethrower, Shell Trap, Dragon Pulse, Bulldoze, Scorching Sands, Rock Tomb, Body Slam, Flash Cannon, Solar Beam, Rapid Spin, Scale Shot, Iron Tail, Focus Blast, Sunny Day, Fire Pillar, Flame Charge, Heat Crash, Fire Blast

Claydol (Levitate) - Mud Slap, Rock Tomb, Rapid Spin, Harden, Confusion, Psychic, Barrier, Imprison, Wide Guard, Light Screen, Reflect, Ancient Power, Teleport

Meltan/Mimi (???) - Not a battler

CHAPTER 326 - THE FUNERAL

The only memories of a funeral I could conjure were vague blotches and images from when I was a child. If I remembered correctly, one of my father's colleagues in his department had died from some kind of disease, though I had been too young to remember exactly what it was. They had been close enough to be invited, but not close enough for my father to be deeply affected for more than a few days afterward— or maybe dad had just been good at hiding his feelings from his daughter who perpetually needed him. It was lucky, in a way, that I'd never had to go to one. My grandparents on my father's side had both died before I'd met them, and it didn't sound like they'd had the best relationship with him. My grandma on my mom's side was an option, but honestly, I didn't feel like going.

Justin's family had rented out Jubilife's largest cemetery for the day. It was sunny, not at all overcast like it had been the last few days. At the edge of the sprawling cemetery, nestled among ancient oaks and rows of headstones, stood a few wide, white tents. Their heavy canvas flaps swayed gently in the breeze, offering shelter to the mourners gathered beneath their canopy. Food and drinks were offered within as well, though no alcohol from what I had seen.

Justin had a decent number of family members. Unknown uncles, aunts, cousins, and family friends whom I had never met. The attendance was generally around forty people, give or take. Seeing all these people grieve for him made me realize there was a side of him I had never really known. He had family troubles too, but those had largely been ignored after Solaceon, when he had cut off most contact with his dad.

Justin's Pokemon were here as well, as sullen as his closest family members, and all huddled together next to Justin's casket. Even the hard-to-read, stringent Corviknight couldn't bear to see his trainer's coffin. Audino's ears were droopy, and his usual cheerful self was nowhere to be seen. Arcanine kept licking the casket and bumping his nose at the wood as he whined; Ludicolo's hat-like plant was faded and drained of its vibrant green; Toxapex had cried enough to flood a small area they were in, but a hired Natu kept channeling the water away before it could seep into the soil; Krookodile had grieved himself to sleep.

All of his friends had thankfully come by as well. I'd seen Mira over by the tents with Lauren, who had new, slightly rounder glasses instead of her sharp, rectangular ones. Mira's recalling of her adventure to go save her had made my heart beat in excitement, especially the battle near the end. That was the stuff a good story was made of, with a happy ending and everything.

But it was also just… genuinely a good thing, if I took a step back and stopped thinking like a fairy for a moment. With how loyal Lauren's Pokemon were, they most likely would have followed her deeper and deeper into Victory Road until she was seriously hurt or worse.

Denzel was there too, with his mother and father closely supervising him, much to his annoyance. He was confined to a chair, forbidden from moving to avoid straining his back or stretching the skin. It was probably for the best; otherwise, he might have dragged me back into the group. Chase stuck by his side, relentlessly teasing him about being less mobile than a guy in a wheelchair. I overheard a few of the jokes and couldn't help but laugh to myself, but I knew it was important to keep my distance.

The few glances I'd caught of Cecilia made my eyes unconsciously gravitate her way and my legs move in her direction. She'd sequestered herself within the tents with Pauline and Emilia to keep her company, along with Slowking. She'd gotten all of her Pokemon back from the Center and was leaving tomorrow, or even maybe tonight. She hadn't told me.

Hell, even Maeve had come. She'd stuck around with Louis with a dead look in her eyes for a little bit, but was now by herself with her Infernape by her side and Gligar on her head, eating at her hair. I supposed we were both sticking out like sore thumbs.

There was a row of dark chairs arranged near a central aisle where friends and family would gather to listen to further speeches. I'd hastily left after Justin's father had spoken there to thank us for coming, unwilling to be exposed to Cecilia's presence. Here I was, crouching on some grass a ways from any contact and holding a single blade of grass up to Princess' face. The fairy's eyes were sown shut as she groaned in concentration. Her wings vibrated with focus, and pink dust wafted off her fur in small quantities. It was barely enough to notice if you squinted.

The blade of grass was cut in half at its base. Even though the object being lacerated was so fragile, the act of cutting was still loud and clear. A distinct slicing noise reminiscent of a sword drawn from its sheath with a swift, metallic hiss, loud and startling, cutting through the stillness of our isolation and leaving behind a sharp, ringing echo that hung in the air.

"Nice one." I celebrated with a whisper. Before I could keep going, Angel smothered her in vines and squished her cheeks to congratulate her. His new eye was perpetually closed because of its sensitivity to sunlight.

My lips couldn't help but smile when he dragged me closer by the wrist to join in on the hug. Partly soft as a pillow, and partly tough, yet supple. The entire team was nearly reunited; it was only Sunshine left to pick up tomorrow, and we'd all be back together. Angel was wearing a tiny, itty bitty crown of metal atop his head— a concealed Mimi who had jumped for joy at his return. Occasionally he would pat them with a vine, and the steel type would squeal happily in return.

Refocusing my attention on Princess, I noticed she was looking quite smug and proud of herself for cutting the blade of grass. Her chest fur puffed up to make her appear larger, and her wings were neatly folded at her sides. In the days before the funeral, I'd gone back to visit Bella once, and it was an exercise she'd given us reminiscent of the first trick she had attempted to teach Princess with glamour. Whereas before, the goal had been to make the leaf move due to her core Belief being gravity-focused, she had made Princess' goal to cut.

We had Moonblast already, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. I had plenty of ideas workshopped for slicing moves. First, we'd need to get her to consistently work her way up from a leaf to actually useable. Moonblast was somewhat of an implement. A tool that made any fairy using their core Belief far easier. What we were asking of her was essentially like getting her to actually create something out of nothing. Squeezing water out of stone.

"A little too close to the finger, so don't get too carried away." My nails dug into her fur, raking past her skin near her crown. "You could have cut it off, young lady." In her concentration and desperation to slice through the grass, she might have gone a little too hard, even while holding back.

Princess countered by saying that I was the one who'd decided to hold the grass up in the first place, and I told her it was easier for her to focus that way and it'd up her precision. Angel helpfully signed that he could hold it if needed, but what was training without trust in your Pokemon, anyway?

"Here, wanna do another?" Between two fingers, I grabbed another blade of grass, but Princess said she wasn't in the mood anymore and would continue later. "Fair," I said, dropping the grass. "You've done well for today anyway."

I was… a little excited about it, is all. I'd seen how Cynthia's own Togekiss had suppressed his presence in the Distortion World, and that showed there were more ways to use Belief than with merely Moonblast. Bellatrix had known this, but claimed that I would have needed to pay to access such knowledge before that day. Stingy, but fair. I did pay her in stories from Coronet and how the mountain functioned. Thankfully, she gave me a discount.

Ordinarily, I would have had Cass or Honey out, but it was important not to have too many Pokemon bothering the funeral. Plus, Justin's father had hired a few psychics for security. Now that Indigo had pulled through and sent Sinnoh many of their Kadabra, people couldn't get their Pokemon pressed into service anymore. The entire country was starting to breathe a little easier.

I allowed the minutes to pass, watching people mingle from afar while Tangrowth curiously read out the names of the tombstones around us, growing sadder with each one. It was Princess, who gently distracted him by throwing a bit of mud at his side with Ancient Power, though I had to stop her before she upturned the entire cemetery. It was odd to see her having fun in such a gloomy setting, not that she'd cared much for Justin, anyway. Cecilia and dad were the only other humans she cared for. Honey might be saddened— I'd let him out when we were called to the rows of chairs to sit down.

Deciding I'd had enough of standing around, I decided to slowly trudge toward Maeve. She was alone, and I wanted to learn what had been going on with her anyway. She was sitting under the shade of a large tree, face largely emotionless as she flicked her Gligar's face every time he bothered her. Like everyone else today, she was wearing black. A dark-colored knee-length skirt paired with a black jacket over a white blouse. It was surprising she wasn't dying from the heat, especially with Infernape next to her, but Maeve had always struggled with cold. Maybe her tolerance for heat was higher as a result. Her face was still marked by countless faded scars going up, down, and sideways— a lasting and dark reminder of what had happened in Pastoria. They gave her a hardier appearance.

Her expression soured when she saw me and my Pokemon approach. Angel's vine wrapped tighter around my ankle— a sensation I'd missed all too much— and Princess reflexively sneered.

"If I'm bothering you, I'll go." There was no point in talking to someone who didn't want me near them. Since Cecilia had cut things off, I'd begun to think that maybe I was too reliant on people for support, anyway—

A few steps in the dry grass rang out behind me, and then there was a pull at the back of my shirt. "No. I mean, it's fine. I just didn't expect you to talk to me," she said, voice all quiet. By the time I faced her, her eyes were downcast. Now that we were closer, I could see they were puffy and red from crying. "I made a face, didn't I?"

Infernape, who was still below the tree's shade, sat down and looked at me with a curious gaze while he kept Gligar under his armpit like some sort of annoying child.

"Oh. I mean, it's okay," I tried, desperate to rid us of this awkwardness. I found myself scratching my arm that didn't even itch just so my hands would be doing something. "It was just a little… lonely."

"Lonely? You?" Maeve smiled and shook her head. "All of your friends are… wait, I guessed I missed a lot, huh? Did you guys have a falling out?"

"It's just better if I take my distance for the time being while I figure some things out about myself," I explained to resume Emilia's advice. As rude as it may seem, Maeve had always been mildly out of our orbit, so I assumed speaking to her for a while was fine. "How are you holding up? It's been a while."

She had not spoken to us since Coronet, and was keeping her distance even with Louis.

Maeve shrugged. "Doing alright, I guess. I'm kind of like you. Trying to figure out where to go from here."

In the background, the hired DJ changed songs; she was playing a playlist of Justin's favorite. They were mostly low-key songs you could easily study or read to, most of them without lyrics.

"He didn't listen to much music after Solaceon," she continued with a sigh. "I didn't know any of his taste."

"Me neither, admittedly." We were shoulder to shoulder now, watching the small crowd mingle. "It's…"

"Depressing. Every time I go over it in my head, I go, 'I should have asked him this or that,' but I'll never get that time back." Maeve's voice quivered near the end of the sentence.

"Mhm."

In the deepest recesses of my heart, there was pain at that idea. Agonizing, twisting, and desperate to show on my face.

But it was more manageable than yesterday. And that day had been more manageable than the day before it. I believed I was through the hardest parts of processing Justin's death, and as Sunshine's own experience with Kamaile and his team leaving him early, that was okay.

We stayed there for a while, and I mingled with her Pokemon as she did the same with mine. Her Gligar was a curious one, always googly-eyed at anything new. Maeve had to chase him away before he could land me out of fear that he'd rip my dress. Infernape was a lot more normal. He told me he'd long admired Sunshine's prowess at using his frames, and though he had found his own fighting style now, he'd wanted to emulate it for the longest time.

Maeve, meanwhile, got along great with Angel— to be honest, you'd have to be really odd not to like him at least a little bit. Princess warmed up to her a little, but one aspect of raising these kids I rarely noticed was that they were too used to speaking to me as if I were another Pokemon. That meant that Maeve got confused really fast at the flurry of words the Togekiss offered her. Hell, Angel had his own makeshift sign language that didn't adhere to any rules but the things he'd made up.

"You know, I was scouted," Maeve mumbled under her breath. "To join the League and train to be an ACE Trainer."

"Huh— what?" My head whirled toward her so quickly that my neck ached. "When was this?"

Usually, people were often scouted to join the League first, mostly during the Conference where the government would hone in on who would be useful. From what I understood of the system, you basically never went straight to ACE from a normal trainer.

Maeve replied, "after Coronet. They came and spoke to my parents about it and everything, but I still haven't made a decision. They lost a decent amount of people fighting Galactic and are looking to fill out their ranks again. I'd just be a candidate with a bunch of other people some a boot camp; it wouldn't be a sure thing."

"I mean, if— if I hadn't known so much about how horrible being an ACE Trainer was, I would have been super happy for you, Maeve." I gulped, imagining the ruthless training she'd be put through. "But it's a horrible job, even if you don't have to guard a bunch of snotty kids twenty-four-seven. They beat the emotion out of you until you become a tool—"

My mouth stopped. Wasn't that what I wanted?

"I dunno. I killed like a hundred people in Coronet— Pokemon included— and I feel nothing about it. Not an ounce of regret, but not even joy at some sort of revenge or anything." Maeve chewed on her lip. "Just nothing. Like it was just work. Got no dreams, no guilt, no signs of PTSD… apparently, that's rare in people, and it's part of something they seek."

"I understand the 'just work' part." After a while, it was just going through the motions. Like getting frustrated at doing too much homework and just wanting to get through it. And to be honest, while I'd tried not to kill people, it was because I was trying to emulate what a good person would do thanks to Mimi and Maylene. Of course. there was part of me that thought I could fake it until I made it. "You're sixteen, Maeve. You have your whole life ahead of you; this would be seriously rash."

"It would be, wouldn't it?" she agreed. "I've been turning it over in my head for the two weeks and a half we've been out. My parents were fooled by the officers' smooth words and were all in on me joining. My team's good with whatever I do except for my Yanma, but I'm sure she'd come around."

"Maeve… why does it feel like you want to justify doing this? What about Louis?" I turned to see if I could find our friend

"Because it's something I'm good at," she said with a grim smile. "Also, Louis is… he's sweet, but he was just a crush. I'm over it."

"Over it, like…?"

"I confessed to him a few days before Justin died. I figured that if we were going to die fighting Galactic, why the hell not, right?" She laughed bitterly. "He rejected me on the spot. Said he couldn't see himself with anyone after what he'd done to Cecilia and that it wouldn't be right."

Damn. That sounded just like him. "I'm sorry."

"Eh. As I said, I'm over it. Anyway, it's not a sure thing like you think, I still don't know if I'll join or not." Maeve looked up at the clear skies, and wind swept past her mid-length hair. "If I don't, I think I'll join the army, though. I just feel like I need… a fresh start. And structure."

I couldn't help but exhale in relief. She'd nearly thrown her life away. "Good. Look into that. That's a far better prospect than being an ACE, trust me. I've spent hours upon hours with them and they're broken people. They're broken down and molded to what the League wants them to be. You—"

My phone vibrated in my pocket. My stupid brain instantly went for Cece even though that made no sense and she was literally right there.

"You're good under pressure; the army fits your shape," I added as I pulled it out of my pocket. "Of course, you don't have to do either, but it's your decision." Arceus, it was so odd seeing everyone pulling themselves away from the Circuit. Months ago I thought they'd all be going at it for a few years at least. Just like Pauline, I thought she could have gotten eight badges next year.

I'd been about to say something, but forgot what it was when I saw Maylene's text.

"Don't let me bother you," Maeve said. "And thanks for talking with me. I really appreciate it."

She returned under the shade, no doubt waiting for the proceedings to begin, while I scrolled up and entered my phone's password. Princess, the little rascal, tried to pretend she wasn't looking at the screen. Angel pestered her by placing vines in front of her eyes until she nearly cursed him out but stopped herself.

It wasn't like I hadn't heard her cursing. Like Honey, she snuck one in every now and then, just never in front of me. Or Buddy. Or Angel, but that was for entirely different reasons. She just didn't want to sully his innocent ears.

Maylene - Sorry if im bothering u, I just hope the funeral is going okay

Maylene - Im always here if you need to talk, and ill be there tomorrow for craigs ceremony

It was nice of her to check in. The truth was that we hadn't really spoken much since Cecilia and I took our break, and most of that had been relegated to small talk or surface-level stuff. Dry. There was no doubt in my mind that she must have noticed the shift in my eagerness to talk to her, and yet she was still…

"Damn it," I moaned. "This is needed. It's needed." Escape from dependency on any person was my mantra, these days. Angel soothed me by stroking my head, and Princess rubbed her head on my side and chirped worryingly. Mimi decided to jump back on my shoulder for support.

They weren't really hiding anymore; they were just lazy. We'd made the decision yesterday, and Meltan no longer would have to stay disguised.

"Thanks, guys."

It honestly felt like every time I texted her was a battle where I had to choose my words as carefully as possible to not give her any renewed hope. At least it was far easier over the phone than face-to-face. It wasn't like friends couldn't speak for hours about whatever sprang to mind, but she had a crush on me, so distance was warranted. Whereas I might have wanted to answer 'you would never bother me,' for example, I couldn't. Because I knew it was the kind of thing that'd make her heart skip a beat. Every time I needed to know if something would go too far, I'd picture myself and my unrequited crush on Cece. How would I react if Cecilia had said this at the time? It had worked pretty well so far.

I just had to hold on until Cecilia came back, and then I'd let her down easy. Tomorrow would be the hurdle to clear.

Oh. Right, she could see I'd read this and was waiting for an answer.

You - It's going alright. Waiting for the proceedings to start, which should be in thirteen minutes.

You - Thanks for offering your help. I appreciate it.

Maylene - Want to hang out tomorrow?

What the hell?

In one fell swoop, she'd ruined my plans to conveniently avoid her without committing to anything! Now I'd have to deny her instead of being a flake and hoping the world would bend to my desires.

You - Won't you have duties? As a Gym Leader? I wouldn't want to be annoying and waste your time.

Every Gym Leader would be there, after all. They'd have to sit around and do… Gym Leader stuff, surely. Plus, it'd be weird if she was hanging out with someone else and possibly having a good time while people would be sad all around us.

Maylene - cmon. I would never find hanging with u annoying, grace. and after some procedural stuff ill be able to roam freely.

Why was she so forward lately? With an annoyed huff, I gathered my courage and typed up a response.

You - I think it'd be best not to.

There. Right to the point, and without avoiding anything. It was about time I put my money where my mouth was. Maylene started typing, then stopped for a good while. Two minutes, by my count.

Maylene - hey did i do something wrong lately? feels like youve been avoiding me this past week and it kinda hurts

Maylene - and i miss u kinda

Instantly, my bravado collapsed, and I scrambled to give her an answer. Of course, there was no way out of this without hurting her; I'd been stupid to expect anything less. At some point, I would have to stop hiding. Her adding 'kind of' here didn't do anything to hide the strength of what she was feeling. Arceus, I was so stupid. Stupid, foolish, moronic!

You - I'm sorry; I haven't been right to you lately. You're right. Tomorrow we'll talk. I'd rather be in person for this.

I had no choice but to be straight with her, at least to a point. To tell her about the fears of dependency on her. If Cecilia hadn't told me not to reveal the state of our relationship, I would have gone further and spilled everything, but this would be a good start. If I told her how broken I was, how I would latch myself onto her like some kind of parasite and hurt her if she gave me the opportunity, then surely she would understand. She had a good head on her shoulders, but it would be unhealthy for me, and I'd just drag her down with me. I was in no state of mind for this weird thing we had going on.

Maylene - well u just made me super nervous but im still thankful

You - I know that this is a useless statement that most likely won't have any effect on you, but you shouldn't worry. It won't be anything drastic.

Maylene - if thats a lie u better make it up to me, u dork

"I mean, it's not a lie, but I might be wrong. I don't know," I whispered to myself. In my point of view, it'd just be a needed readjustment of our situation, but what about hers? If she took it badly, I'd need to fix it somehow.

You - How would I make it up to you? I'll do anything you ask.

It took Maylene a bit to answer, so I reread my text and realized how awful this sounded in context.

You - I'm so sorry that sounded really bad; I didn't mean it in any creepy way.

Maylene - haha no worries i know.

Maylene - i gotta go back to work. see you tomorrow.

Maylene wasn't one to end a conversation so abruptly, and this was her lunch break! Something I'd told her countless times not to skip with Cecilia until she finally relented. She didn't have to go back to work at all, I had just most likely flustered her enough for her to want out of the conversation.

There was no time to lament my fuck-up. The music ending and people filtering out of the tent meant that the funeral proceedings were about to begin. I recalled Princess and Angel, but kept Mimi on my shoulder while I released Honey out of his ball. The little blob of metal garnered a few odd looks from people wondering what in the world they were, but these were nearly always passing glances at most. This was Justin's day. We all made our way toward the chairs, where I'd been given an assigned seat.

"Funerals are how we say goodbye to the dead," I explained to the steel type with a whisper. "Usually, in most of Sinnoh, people are buried underground. Justin's going to be burned after this, though. Like in the Iron Islands." Only Louis and his family would be able to see it done. Mostly, Mimi seemed intrigued by an island being named after iron. "How did your people do it?"

If I understood correctly, they answered with something about being wrapped with thin sheets of metal and then being encased in a sarcophagus. That kind of sounded like treatment only a monarch would get, but I doubted Meltan knew much about the common folk in Lakhutia.

Luckily for us, my seat was a ways away from Cecilia. Louis probably had something to do with this, or perhaps Emilia. She'd helped with some of the funeral as well. I was sitting next to a pair of older gentlemen at the edge of the row of chairs so Honey could stand next to me. One of them was crying and continuously patting his eyes with a colorful handkerchief. They spoke to each other in whispers, reminiscing about how Justin had been a good kid and how he'd been taken from them too soon.

Albert Gardner took to the small podium wearing a dark suit and tie. Elegant, yet simple. It was my first time seeing the man in person, and it was remarkable how much he looked like Justin. He was tall and lanky, shoulders hunched over like he hated being here, hands gripping the sides of his lectern until his knuckles turned white. He wore his hair in a neat, old-fashioned combover, and the way he cleared his throat as he slipped his finger between his neck and collar gave the impression of someone being more comfortable on his own in labs than a man who'd give a speech to people.

Justin's father awkwardly scratched the side of his ear and patted the sides of his suit. "Thank you all for—" The microphone peaked, and the uncomfortable sound spread throughout the audience. Albert clicked his tongue and tapped on the microphone with his finger a few times. "Thank you all for being here today. And a special thank you to Louis Bianchi for helping me put all of this together. Justin was lucky to have you as a friend."

We all politely clapped for a few seconds, and while I couldn't see Louis from where I was sitting, it was easy to imagine him looking around all embarrassed.

Albert's hand rested on Justin's coffin. "It's said that the relationship between a father and his son is one of the most profound and lasting bonds in life." He exhaled, fingers gone limp against the wood. "I was… not a very good father."

He allowed the words to sit with us before continuing.

"I was preoccupied with my research and the company. I didn't give my son the attention, love, and care he deserved. I made him go on this journey for monetary reasons, and because of that, Solaceon changed him down to the way he thought about things." Albert turned toward the coffin. "It might be too late to say this now, son, but I'm sorry, and I love you. I've always loved you."

Honey, as soft-hearted as he was, was tearing up already. I was too. It was echoes in time like these that really got to me. I reminisced about our time in Eterna Forest where Justin lay depressed and defeated, sitting on a fallen log of wood, asking himself if his father had ever loved him.

I hoped he was seeing this.

"I apologize," Albert sniffled into the microphone. "I've never been that great at public speaking. My son was— my son was a shy little boy, as I was and still remain in many ways. Restrained and scared of opening up to people. But he was good, he was kind, and most of all, he was passionate, whether that was in his friendships or his career. I remember it like it was yesterday, when he came up and bugged me about everything Pherzen could be doing differently, more efficiently, or what we could do to save costs. He was a real businessman at heart, even as a young child…"

Albert's speech continued for around ten minutes, with each word coming out growing more and more confident, yet somehow wracked with regret all the same. He talked about how proud he was that his son had gotten so many badges in his first year, and how he believed he might have gotten all eight should Galactic not have taken Justin away so early. He talked about stories of him as a child struggling to speak to people at school, and him overcoming that. He talked about his life, struggles and how he so wished he could have been better to Justin every step of the way.

The applause that rang out was thunderous when he was done. So loud it made my hearing aid go into a feedback loop that turned into a loud, high-pitched screech.

More family members went next. The crying old man next to me had been his grandfather and mostly focused on Justin as a kid, especially with how he'd spoil him with gifts and snacks when his father wasn't looking. A cousin in his early twenties spoke about how he'd answer so many questions about business when Albert was too busy. A middle-aged woman not in the family talked about how polite and well-spoken he was whenever they met at galas, fundraisers, parties, or whatever gatherings. It all went on for an hour— a beautiful elegy of Justin's life, filling in the blanks and coloring the person who I had been so happy to call one of my closest friends.

But then, at last, it was Louis' turn to speak. He made a point to have all of Justin's Pokemon behind him, and I saw a new facet of my friend just then. No, perhaps not a new one. An older Louis which had been buried for months. He carried himself confidently, his shoulders squared and his gaze steady as it passed over the crowd as if he had finally shed the weight of doubt that had shadowed him for so long. The familiar fire in his eyes that had once been a mark of his endless ego now was tempered and matured. Louis the boy had grown into a man.

"Justin was my best friend."

To me and to my friends, this wasn't surprising, but to the others? To the people who hadn't been with us this past year? They knew Louis Bianchi as a selfish manchild who couldn't see beyond his own nose and who wouldn't give a quiet kid like Justin the light of day unless it was to make himself shine brighter.

He slowly arranged his tie and inclined his head among the doubting crowd. "It took me a while to realize it— until the Darkest Day struck and he left, and I realized what his absence meant— but he was. He centered me in my immature days, and because of that, I vowed to bring him home after the Darkest Day."

He'd succeeded in Sunyshore after a battle where his newly evolved Vespiquen had nearly drowned Corviknight in honey. Yet the steel type, stalwart behind Louis, did not react negatively to memories of the fight.

"He was out getting a book for me when the bombs took him from all of us," Louis said, still somehow calm. "And for that, I apologize to you, his family and friends." I heard Audino cry out behind him, his little voice picked up by the microphone telling Louis it wasn't his fault. "I have been haunted day and night by 'what ifs', and while I have forgiven myself, I don't think I'll ever shake that little nagging feeling in my head. The little voice telling me that things could have been different."

He swallowed, wavering for the first time, and took a deep breath.

"I was not a great friend to Justin the majority of the time I knew him. I met him at a gala, the sort you're all very familiar with. I was loud, boisterous, and dragged him wherever I wanted. I was nine and he was seven years old, and I could tell he admired my outgoing nature. Yet I made unwarranted jokes at his expense to make myself feel better, made fun of him for being so quiet, and still, he stuck around. It wasn't until this year, through many of our shared experiences, that I realized how flawed I was."

It was easy to forget how he'd behaved when I'd first met him. Louis outstretched his hands and smiled thinly.

"Yet we are all born flawed beings, and we either grow or get worse as we age. I believe that without Justin in my life, I would have grown up much worse if you can even believe that." There were a few chuckles in the crowd at the self-deprecating humor. "My friends were instrumental at getting my head out of the sand I had buried it into," he glanced my way, then Cecilia's, Denzel's and at the others, "but Justin was my first genuine friendship, the first step out of that hole. He was also the last." He looked at the coffin with a fond smile. "Thank you for everything, my friend, and may we see each other again one day."

He was done.

There was another round of clapping, and Honey patted me on the shoulder as if to say it was going to be okay.

We'd sent him off well, hadn't we?



Justin's casket was available for viewing by the public after the speeches. It had been moved to one of the wide tents because of how hot it was out. Summer was in full swing, and it was 28 degrees Celsius. Cecilia probably would have laughed about how that wasn't hot at all, actually. Legendaries, I missed her.

It was carved from rich, darker wood that gleamed with a strange luster. Along the edges, intricate floral motifs were delicately etched, each petal and leaf rendered with meticulous detail. I was pretty sure that all of them were different. I had to hold on to Meltan because they wanted to look at the metallic hinges on the casket. Their little head was poking out of my dress. Usually, it'd be open for viewing, and people would be able to say their goodbyes. Instead, there were numerous pictures of Justin from his time as a baby in his mother's hands a few hours after his birth to the present.

"They must have paid a fuck ton for this, huh?" Chase spoke next to me in a melancholic tone. His voice had nearly made me jump. "Do you think he's happy?"

I shrugged. "I think we did all we could. I hope he is."

Chase rolled a little closer to the coffin and nudged his chin toward one of the pictures. "What's this one? First day at school?"

Little Justin looked like he'd been crying until he'd run out of tears, and he was being led by the hand of one of his attendants with a backpack full of Growlithe motifs and other canine Pokemon on it. Rockruff, Lillipup, Yamper— just the conventionally cute ones.

"I think so," I said. "Must have been a hell of a day, huh? What about this? Tenth birthday?"

The next one; a slightly older Justin surrounded by people and family.

"Sure, it makes sense with the amount of candles. He looks… not that happy." Chase squinted at the picture. "I guess it's because there were too many people there."

"Or maybe the cake was— you know what, your reason makes more sense."

Chase could only muster an incredulous expression as he looked up at me. "Were you about to say the cake was bad?"

"N—no."

I didn't know why we got into this conversation. He'd just come up behind me and begun to talk without any goal in mind, but his presence was a welcome one anyway. We stayed and went through nearly every picture until Cecilia and Louis barged into the tent. The way both froze, they'd had no idea I was in here. Seconds seemed to endlessly stretch until Chase groaned and yelled to garner our attention.

"Come the fuck on, what is this wishy-washy shit? You're on a break, not sworn enemies who can't even be in the same room. Now stop being weird. Not at my boy's funeral. Louis, say something."

"Right. Right." Louis nodded, then ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Neither of you need to leave, you can just look at the casket and the pictures together, if need be."

My eyes felt dry. I'd forgotten to blink. "R—right," I agreed. "Feel free to… do whatever it is you're doing." I love you, please take me back. My heart was nearly leaping out of my throat, like it used to when we'd first met and I'd been helplessly crushing on her. "I was going to leave soon, anyway."

Chase clicked his tongue.

"What?! It's the truth!" I pinched his shoulder until he yelped and nearly jumped out of his chair. "Asshole. My dad's coming to pick me up at four. That's in…" I looked at my phone, "twenty. He's already sent me a text. Apparently, traffic is really bad."

"Well, Jubilife is synonymous with traffic," Louis said.

"I could ruin the vibes and start trauma dumping about how the Iron Islanders wish all they had to worry about was traffic," Chase joked.

"You've effectively done so already," Louis snarked. "Anyway, if I don't see you again, thank you for coming, Grace."

We shared a short hug, and I just… nodded at Cecilia. She did the same for me, though she itched her neck when I looked at her like I was giving her an allergic reaction. Not even close to back to normal, huh? On the way out, I told Louis to talk to Albert about Ditto cell research for humans. To this day, the topic was what Justin had been the most passionate about, and it'd be nice if his father could realize his dream, even if it was post-mortem.

I swung by to tell the others goodbye, too. Denzel (his mother kept sneering at me with disgust like I was a blister on her son's life), Pauline, Emilia, Maeve, Mira, and Lauren. There was something off about the last two, like they were more nervous around each other than usual. The final thing I did was speak to Justin's team to thank them for being here for him until the end and to ask them of their intentions. They fully agreed to be under Louis' care from now on, but it would take until his sanctuary opened that they'd be legally owned by his 'business'. Until then, they'd be Albert's.

As soon as he got there, I entered the front seat of my dad's car and put the seat all the way down. He smiled at me, staring as if he was just happy to see me, and in a way, I supposed he was. It was too bad that other than Mimi, none of my Pokemon could ride in the car. It was small and ergonomic. One of those cheap, local Sinnohan cars that basically lasted forever, unlike those expensive Galarian ones.

"How were things, kiddo?"

"Actually good," I said. "It was… closure for everyone." Things could also have gone far worse with Cecilia than they had.

Dad shook his head as he turned on his signals. "What a waste. All this death." A sigh took him. He didn't know Justin, but anyone would react that way to a sixteen-year-old dying. And Justin hadn't been the only one. "I'm glad things went well for you. Do you want to stop and grab some ice cream on the way home? Milkshake?"

"Milkshake sounds good, thanks."

"I'm guessing fries as well, then. Two Larges."

I snorted. "Yup. I haven't eaten yet."

We ended up spending a lot more time out than originally planned, first to grab a bite to eat since I had left the funeral with an empty stomach, and then to stop by a park to let my Pokemon hang out a little bit. Angel was in his own personal heaven, getting all of the attention, and a few children had stopped around Mimi to see what Pokemon they were. Buddy was thankfully keeping a careful watch.

"I found a good piano place; it has a bunch of people your age as well for the summer," dad said, his arm wrapped around my shoulder. "Still okay with that?"

"Sure, when do I start?"

"The day after tomorrow." He sipped on a can of beer and let out a satisfied sigh. "And for your therapist— that's the day after that. And don't worry, I'll pay."

Huh. It must have shown on my face that I'd been about to say something. "Thanks." At least I'd be able to talk to someone for this co-dependency stuff. Or just a risk of dependency from me, in Maylene's case. That was a relatively normal issue to have. "I guess… I should tell you something."

He frowned, worried about what to expect. "What is it?"

"Cecilia and I are on a break. Long story short, we've been through too much together and never learned to disconnect. We need to learn how to live on our own from now on. That's it."

"Ah. I can tell you don't want to talk about it, so thank you for telling me." He stroked the hair on my head, and I leaned into the touch. "Breaks are… tough, but I've never been in a situation like yours. I hope things work out for you two, you were cute together. Remember when we baked poffins?"

Warmth filled me. "Yeah! That was so much fun…"

"Don't look so down. We'll do it again someday."

"I hope so too," I whispered and leaned forward, supporting my head in my palm. "You know, sometimes I wonder how in the world did I manage being so alone all the time?"

"You had friends…" he tried.

"Dad, I think that's the first time you've tried to insinuate the amount of social interaction I had was fine." I rolled my eyes at him, and he mimicked me as a fun jab. "Ha. Ha. Very funny. Anyway, Lynn and Clarissa don't count."

They'd tried to contact me and my dad, back when I'd gone back to Jubilife to deal with Poketch politics. I'd refused to meet them. Honestly, lately I might have said yes, but I figured it was too awkward to bring it back up when I'd said no the first time. Most of what I did was follow them around anyway; I was kind of like an adopted pet more than anything.

Oh yeah. Lynn had been my second crush ever, too. The one who'd made me realize that maybe having liked two girls meant I was gay. Even if it went nowhere, and by the time school was over, it had long faded into an old memory, but it was because of her that I'd come out to my dad, so I was thankful anyway.

"I don't know, I could spend hours in my room browsing the forums or watching battles, or in the living room watching TV, and I wouldn't care for anything else," I continued. My teeth clamped down on my bottom lip hard. I hadn't cared that Clarissa and the others hung out outside of school without me at all, except when Lynn was here. "I guess you never know what you have until it's gone."

I had to yell at Sweetheart to quiet down when she demanded Angel's attention away from the others, and a dozen vines wrapped around the Tyranitar to soothe her.

"You're doing okay," he tried. "Putting one foot in front of the other without tripping."

A silent laugh escaped me. He only said that because he didn't know what was going on inside my head. "Yeah. I guess lately I wish I could go back to that state of mind. It'd make the next few…" weeks? months? Probably months, "months a lot easier, if we even get back together."

"Come on, Grace. No matter how bad things are now— no, maybe that's a bad way of phrasing it." He'd always been careful with words. He was the kind of person who liked to gather his thoughts in his head before talking in a debate or an argument. I'd gotten more of my mother's side in that regard. "Look, if we see relationships and your dependence on them as some sort of slider— which is certainly not how those work, but I'll humor you— then you don't run back to one extreme because you've gone too far the other way. There's a middle ground you can strike."

"I know, I know. I was just brooding."

"Won't let you brood on my watch." He messed up my hair.

"Dad! I spent so long fixing that for the funeral! Ugh!"

I started jabbing him in the stomach until he dropped his beer can in the grass.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A., Bridie, Christopher M
 
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Chapter 327 - The Ceremony New
Togekiss/Princess (Hustle) - Pound, Sweet Kiss, Growl, Headbutt, Fairy Wind, Ancient Power, Extrasensory, Thunder Wave, Air Cutter, Wish, Psychic, Shadow Ball, Dazzling Gleam, Moonblast, Charge Beam, Air Slash, Mystical Fire, Tri-Attack, Nasty Plot, Defog

Jellicent/Buddy (Water Absorb) - Bubblebeam, Night Shade, Absorb, Water Sport, Water Pulse, Hex, Poison Sting, Mist, Acid Armor, Shadow Ball, Recover, Brine, Whirlpool, Hydro Pump, Water Spout, Acid, Will-O-Wisp, Ice Beam, Taunt, Scald, Boil, Freeze, Protect, Ice Blade, Rain Dance, Extrasensory

Electivire/Honey (Motor Drive) - Thundershock, Swift, Electric Swift, Thunder Punch, Charge, Leer, Ice Punch, Thunderbolt, Discharge, Fire Punch, Protect, Cross Chop, Thunder, Low-Kick, Screech, Radiant Leap, Static Shield, Bulldoze, Hammer Arm, Rain Dance, Lightning Bolt

Tangrowth/Angel (Chlorophyll) - Vine Whip, Absorb, Mega Drain, Stun Spore, Bind, Poison Powder, Leech Seed, Ancient Power, Power Whip, Knock Off, Sunny Day, Giga Drain, Sleep Powder, Solar Beam, Solar Blade, Brick Break, Ingrain, Bulldoze

Tyranitar/Sweetheart (Sand Stream) - Leer, Tackle, Horn Attack, Rock Throw, Payback, Stomping Tantrum, Smack Down, Bite, Rock Slide, Crunch, Sandstorm, Iron Defense, Dragon Pulse, Iron Head, Earthbreaker, Aerial Ace, Stone Edge, Dark Pulse, Rock Polish, Surf, Earthquake

Turtonator/Sunshine (Shell Armor) - Smog, Ember, Smokescreen, Incinerate, Iron Defense, Flamethrower, Shell Trap, Dragon Pulse, Bulldoze, Scorching Sands, Rock Tomb, Body Slam, Flash Cannon, Solar Beam, Rapid Spin, Scale Shot, Iron Tail, Focus Blast, Sunny Day, Fire Pillar, Flame Charge, Heat Crash, Fire Blast

Claydol (Levitate) - Mud Slap, Rock Tomb, Rapid Spin, Harden, Confusion, Psychic, Barrier, Imprison, Wide Guard, Light Screen, Reflect, Ancient Power, Teleport

Meltan/Mimi (???) - Not a battler

CHAPTER 327 - THE CEREMONY

"We should have gone on foot," my dad complained.

Even for Jubilife, the amount of cars on the road was extreme. We'd moved three blocks in the last thirty minutes because of the sheer amount of people who were going to Craig's ceremony. The event was set to take place in and around Poketch Headquarters because they were paying for most of the event at a time when the government had to pinch every penny. Luckily since I was a sponsee and I knew a lot of people, I'd be able to access and move throughout the actual building, which was open only to a select few.

Ugh. That kind of sounded elitist, didn't it?

"You can always pay for parking, and we can walk the rest of the way," I suggested.

He scanned the surroundings and shook his head. "Nope. No parking spaces anywhere, we'll have to wait until we get to Poketch." As an employee, he had a special parking spot reserved for him below ground. It would just take a while to get here.

"Good thing we left so early, then," I said.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him smile. "Only after I told you to finish getting ready for the millionth time."

"I didn't take any longer than yesterday! Now you're just being annoying on purpose."

I was wearing the exact same black knee-length dress, though I'd styled my hair in waves instead of straight like yesterday. My finger felt strangely naked without my ring, but I'd never worn much jewelry anyway save for Mimi. Not like I could wear a couple's ring without being in a couple, even if it hurt. Speaking of them, Mimi was sitting on the car's dashboard and was enthralled by how the car moved and responded to dad's steering wheel.

"I'm just joshin' ya," he said.

"I know. Sorry."

Dad glanced my way with a worried look. "Come on, no need to apologize."

He was also going to be at the ceremony, and as an employee, he would also be allowed inside. I was glad he was going to be there; I had learned yesterday that even if he couldn't understand or know what I'd been through, he was a soothing presence for me. As it turned out, I had been mostly wrong. So long as he didn't press me on anything, he was essential in returning to a sense of normalcy. I'd missed these times. Back when I used to be a normal kid.

I leaned against the car window and sighed. Sweat permeated through my palms. It was difficult not to be nervous about this event, especially when such a difficult conversation was coming up. The nightmare I'd gotten last night about me making Maylene run away crying certainly didn't help. Hopefully, I'd get through to her clearly and without causing some kind of disaster.

"You look anxious, kiddo," he noticed, looking at me. "What's wrong?"

It took me a few seconds to find an excuse. "Well, I knew him, you know? Craig…"

"Don't lie to your dad, now," he said in a tone dripping with concern. "You—" he stopped when someone suddenly merged into his lane without any turn signals. "Legendaries, you won't get there any faster," dad complained. I watched him as his eyes narrowed, likely passing silent judgment on the driver of the oversized Unovan car. He was probably thinking about how someone who drove one of those huge Unovan cars must have been an asshole. It wouldn't be the first time. "Anyway," he resumed, his tone softening as he glanced at me again, "you don't have to tell me if you're not ready, Grace. I'm just worried about you."

"It's fine," I sighed. "I guess I'm meeting a friend."

"Isn't that a good thing? Who is it, one of your co-workers?" he asked. "That Bobby kid who undermined you?"

"No, no, it has nothing to do with Poketch." My head turned even further away from him in embarrassment. "It's a Gym Leader. Maylene Suzuki."

"You're… friends?" Dad had seen our Gym Battle, and while he hadn't said anything of its brutality, he knew how strange the concept that we'd ever get along was. "That's surprising." He nudged the side of my arm. "Look at you, making more friends in high places."

"Focus on the road," I groaned. "Anyway, we're going to have a really tough conversation, and it's going to suck. That's it."

"Ah. Well, I hope it goes well between you two. Want me to be there?"

"Absolutely not!" While I appreciated him not digging to figure out what was going to be said, I couldn't help but snap, already imagining that misunderstanding waiting to happen. "I'll handle it, you just go do your thing. Whatever that is!"

Dad laughed. "I wasn't going to actually listen in, just be close in case it went wrong."

He had told me that he'd be with some of his co-workers. Some men and women I only knew by name, but who had apparently been cheering for me during the Circuit. I'd been a big hit in their department because I was his kid, and he was pretty well-liked. It was mildly embarrassing to imagine him touting my every win like I was the second coming of Cynthia, but dad had long prided himself as my biggest fan.

It took us another hour to get to Poketch. On our way to the parking garage, we slowly drove next to the building, which meant I saw how it had all been set up. The outside was full of people swarming in, giving their tickets to get past both League and private Poketch security. I even saw some men in Kanto-Johto uniforms. Unlike the dull orange— almost brown— Sinnoh had adopted, theirs was a mess of greens and khakis. Tickets to the ceremony were not free (the country had to make its money back somehow), but it was cheap enough to have thousands of people swarming in. With the amount of people coming in, I was certain they were sold out.

Around the Poketch Building had usually been an empty stretch of concrete pathways framed by minimalist vegetation that guided visitors through the space in a way that was reminiscent of Veilstone. While that hadn't changed much save for a little bit more greenery around the edges to appear more presentable, more benches and chairs than I could count had been added around the space, all facing toward a podium adorned with the Sinnohan flag gleaming in the sun. Maylene had told me that was where the Gym Leaders, Elite Four, and Champion would sit. It'd be my first time seeing Cynthia again, and I sincerely hoped she was doing alright. She probably was, given that the country hadn't collapsed in on itself. Behind the podium was a huge projector screen on which I assumed they would show pictures or videos of Craig. We could hear the anthem softly playing through the slightly-opened windows of the car.

"They went all patriotic for this one," dad said with a touch of sarcasm. "Kind of funny, considering you've got people from Kanto-Johto here."

That statement made me raise an eyebrow. Dad usually wasn't one to get political, or at least not with me. I knew the basis of his beliefs, though. Mostly, he despised dictatorships or authoritarianism of any kind, which was why the presence of the Indigoan army in the streets of the city he was born in made him so uneasy.

"I know how it looks, but it's a good thing. Without them, we'd be in a much worse spot. They gave us money, Teleporters, medicine, hospital beds—"

He cut me off. "I know, I know." A sigh escaped him, heavy enough for me to notice his chest visibly sink. "I just fear for the future."

That was something I couldn't fault him for. Even Jasmine had told me that they hadn't done this only out of the kindness of their hearts. While she was here, she'd most likely be too busy to see me. She'd told me that while she'd wanted to speak due to becoming good friends with Craig this year, the League had refused her request. The optics were already bad; they wouldn't make it worse with having a foreign speaker at an event meant for Sinnohans and to celebrate a Sinnohan life. Personally, I didn't care, but that was how the world worked. Jasmine wasn't too bitter about it.

I was just starting to take note of the food and drinks they were offering when the car eased into a tunnel and descended into the parking area. Dad noted how even this place was unusually full as he neatly guided the car to its spot. Before I got out, I decided to text Maylene and the rest of my friends about my arrival. Save for Cecilia, who was gone; Maeve, who hadn't bothered to come; and Chase, who'd said he didn't want to watch the government waste so much money on a party for rich people, they were all here. Even Denzel. I'd made note of a few other acquaintances I knew who would be here by scouring the net, such as Professor Rowan, Dawn, Lucas, and Barry. Hell, some famous people I didn't even know were here, too. Buck— Flint's younger brother— had interrupted his work on the Battle Frontier to get here. One of Sinnoh's most mysterious figures and few aura users, Riley Ansson, was somewhere here as well. The same man Beast had tried to kill and been beaten back by on the Iron Islands. If you were anybody at all, this ceremony was the place to be.

I wasn't sure I was going to see much of my friends, considering they weren't allowed inside. While I was going to go out there when Cynthia and the other important people gave their speeches, there was no way I'd go out there in this massive crowd. I needed the relative quiet to focus. Last night, I had rehearsed the way the conversation with Maylene would go so many times it was still ringing in my head. I had backups too. So long as the conversation didn't derail too much…

"Getting out?" Dad loomed over the car with his hand on the hood.

"Y—yeah." I scooped Mimi up in my arms, and the steel type decided to turn into a looser choker resting on my collarbone. "You all set up?" I whispered. When they vibrated, we finally got going toward the elevators.

Even if the underground was relatively free of people, there were plenty here, either taking refuge from the hordes outside or inside Poketch Headquarters or just making their way up just like we were. Once we got to the elevators (and they took years to get here), I noticed that they'd put a plaque on the wall saying they had blocked basically every single floor unless you were high up in the company. Melody had brought a keycard to our apartment the other day to access the private elevators that would bring me up. For now, though, we stopped at the ground floor.

Even in here, with only employees and close associates, there was a sea of people. Thankfully, it was far easier to navigate, and there were plenty of areas with fewer people around all over this floor.

"I wonder if there's going to be overflow issues," dad pondered. "Are you gonna be alright?"

He'd grabbed my hand out of habit. Even now, he still had his old instincts of not letting me get too far away from him in crowds. When he noticed, he let go with an apologetic nod.

"I'm gonna be okay; I'll just go upstairs." My eyes kept glancing left and right, as if I'd be accosted by Maylene any second now, but I already knew where she'd be. Backstage, waiting for the speeches to begin. After that, we were supposed to meet right around here. "What about you? Gonna get lost?" I teased, trying to cheer myself up.

He snorted. "Think you're slick, eh?" He hovered his hand up over my hair, as if to threaten he'd mess it up like yesterday, and I nearly jumped out of the way. With another laugh, he added, "see you later, kid. Remember, I'm just a phone call away if you need it."

I waved at him until he disappeared into the crowd, and now the reality of the situation was really setting in. Checking my phone again, Maylene had answered with a cute thumbs-up sticker of a Ducklett. Was she not nervous like I was? That answer didn't really give the vibe of someone who was anxious. Why did it even matter if she was or not? It wouldn't change anything, anyway. What I needed to say would remain the same.

Maybe micro analyzing texting patterns wasn't the right idea to get my mind off things.

After calming down with a few deep breaths, I made my way toward the next set of elevators deeper into the building. The floors had recently been cleaned and were so sleek you could see your reflection in the dark tiles. You had to go through another layer of security, whom you had to show your pass to. I fumbled around my purse, feeling around my Pokeballs for reassurance that they were still there before I pulled out the keycard. It was odd, not having them around my waist. Plus, dresses were nice, but this one having no pockets to shove my stuff into was really annoying.

Mel had told me there would be a lounge of some sort on the 21st floor of Jubilee Tower, so that's where I was headed. It took me a while to figure out what room HEC1229 was, it was nothing a few minutes of searching and asking around didn't fix. The room had been filled with snacks like chips, cookies and charcuterie, and with drinks including champagne. It felt weird to me that this entire thing felt more like a party than someplace to mourn; I hoped Craig's family wouldn't be too offended.

Across the room were plenty of sponsored trainers I only knew by name, or I'd seen their faces on the website. There were also people familiar to me, like Bobby, Ramon, and Sharon. Even Aubri was with them, which meant the sky must have been falling. Just like me, they were all dressed like this was a funeral. Dark colors without too much flashiness, save for a golden watch around Bobby's wrist. They'd all been close to Craig— closer than even me. Aubri, in particular, still seemed utterly destroyed by his death and was quiet, her usual stoic confidence vaporized from her face. Aside from the numerous scars and the missing fingers and eye, you'd think she was a different person.

They seemed to be engrossed in some deep conversation, or at least that was until Ramon noticed me grab a bottle of water and I was met with his toothy, juvenile grin.

"Grace!" He waved and beamed as if he was genuinely happy to see me. Wait, maybe he was. We were kind of friends, and it had been a while. "Come over here and sit with us!"

Right. Right. Socializing. Okay, Grace, you're a person. You're just a person just like them. You can do this.

"H—hi!"

My voice cracked.



For what felt like the thousandth time, Maylene peeked her head around the wall of the stage entrance and scanned the sea of people ahead of her. Even as a Gym Leader, she'd never fathomed being in front of so many. This was a big jump from a few self-contained press conferences and doing her job in front of a few hundred to a few thousand at best when the battle was really interesting. Even if she wasn't a designated speaker and all she'd have to do was stand or sit respectfully at appropriate times, it was still a little intimidating. Not that this was her main concern at the moment. Maylene's suit felt a little tight around the neck, and she couldn't help but loosen her collar every minute.

"Didn't you say she'd be inside?" Gardenia's voice rang out behind her and made her jump a little. All of her fellow Gym Leaders were backstage with her. The Elite Four and Cynthia would arrive later, though she'd been informed the latter was taking a thirty-minute power nap, at the moment. She was being worked to the bone. "You poking your head out like that kind of makes us look unprofessional. Today's all about image."

Maylene straightened her suit around her waist and fixed up her tie. "I can't help but look anyway."

"Even if she was out here, you wouldn't be able to find her in the crowd no matter how good your eyesight is, Maymay." Nia wrapped a hand around her shoulder and dragged her back in. "Now come on, have some patience. I said I'd help you, right?"

"Yeah…" she trailed off. "And I'd be able to find her aura, it's very distinct." That might have been the wrong way to put it. "Or I guess I just know what it feels like by heart now."

"Oooh, how romantic," Gardenia teased.

Maylene growled in a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. "Nia. Not so loud!" She was still the only Gym Leader who knew about Grace.

They were back in the waiting room with their colleagues now. It had been built up in the last few weeks as a luxurious retreat, adorned with plush seating, soft ambient lighting, and plenty of drinks and food. Even the ground below their feet was velvet carpet. Poketch must have splurged so much money on today that the League was going to owe them a huge favor. There were conversations happening all around, but they were all respectfully quiet. Even Wake. He was speaking to Fantina about the state of Hearthome and listening to her vent about retirement as she sipped on some champagne. While her Pokemon were hidden well from the naked eye and exuded no cold, Maylene easily parsed through her shadow and noticed the multiple ghosts hidden within.

Byron was sitting with Roark in silence. His usually wild hair was neatly combed, a stark contrast to his typically disheveled appearance. Even here, he had his trusted shovel with him leaning against his leg. He asked his son if he was doing alright, and Roark just nodded as he nervously adjusted his glasses.

Since Volkner's social battery had run out long ago, he was just lying down on one of the couches, not caring about his suit getting all wrinkled. Plus, today was a bit of a double-whammy for him. Not only had he been close friends with Craig, but he was also sulking about breaking up with Jasmine.

She'd come to talk to him earlier, and they had parted ways amicably. They'd both known this would happen eventually, but it had been earlier than he thought it'd be. Maylene remembered how he would look so pleased at plans they'd made to spend the majority of the summer together in a resort on the Battle Frontier, even going as far as saying he would skip the Conference after the first day to spend as much time with her as possible. Of course, that had been before Team Galactic had begun to ramp up, and far before the bombs.

Wake had told him about how there were plenty of fishes in the sea, that he'd find another girl sooner rather than later, but that hadn't helped Maylene's defeatist friend much. Still, she was sure he'd get over it within the next few weeks.

Gardenia took her seat next to a sullen and downtrodden Candice, gently rubbing her back. She pushed her best friend's head back on her shoulder and kissed her forehead, telling her everything was going to be okay. Ever since Maylene had realized she was in love with Grace, she'd looked at the two a little differently. Gardenia reminded her a little of herself, especially when it was obvious she'd restrained herself at multiple opportunities in the years she'd seen the two girls interact. It kind of looked like Gardenia was in love with her, but Maylene wasn't a hundred percent sure just yet.

The Gym Leader took a seat on the opposite side of Candice and looked up at her friend's face. She hadn't cried in days and had been doing really well, at least until today had come to remind her what she had lost. Craig had been her first crush, and while he hadn't reciprocated at all due to her age and having known her since she'd been just a little kid watching her grandmother's Gym Battles, Maylene would be the first to know one did not choose where the heart decided to take them. Candice's eyes were red and puffy. Every couple of minutes, she would start sobbing and struggle to take full breaths. Where she would usually be laughing, throwing out jokes, and being the heart of the room, here she was quiet, desperate to blend into the background and just get through this day.

Since Gardenia had 'operation help Candice grieve' under control for now, Maylene grabbed her phone again. There was no new text from Grace, of course. Maylene found herself getting greedier and greedier with her crush's attention, but things had been weird lately. She'd racked her mind the entire night, desperate to know what could have been the reason for the sudden distance between them, and gotten nightmares about Grace figuring out she was in love with her and reacting in all sorts of horrifying ways that were completely out of character, like calling her disgusting for falling in love with a taken girl.

They were stupid dreams, but they terrified her nonetheless.

Maylene contemplated sending another text, but decided to put the phone away for now. One hour remained until they had to go on stage. Then around an hour and a half of speeches, and finally, she'd be able to have this conversation. It wasn't like she hadn't liked Craig— who hadn't? What Grace was going to tell her had just consumed her mind to the point where she found it difficult to worry about anything else, at the moment.

Time was ticking agonizingly slowly, but eventually the Elite Four got here. Lucian first, with a long, confident stride and a polite greeting addressed to them all. Accompanying him was his one-eyed Alakazam, bitter and sour-faced as always. Maylene knew the psychic was coordinating security, but maybe he was on a break. Aaron followed soon after, his usual childlike wonder gone and having been replaced by a hardy look. His body was wracked by the occasional shiver. Flint seemed the same as usual, loud and boisterous to the point that Gardenia had to glare at him to quiet down. Maylene didn't know how one could have fought a literal God, seen Craig die, and remained in such high spirits, but that was probably just a Flint thing. Bertha, the last due to her aching bones, had always made Maylene somewhat nervous because of how strict she was. Her scarf, a memento from her father who had died in the war, clashed heavily with her dark frilly dress, but she never went anywhere without it.

Bertha wrinkled her nose. "Volkner, do us all a favor and get up." When he replied with a tired groan, she shook her head in disappointment and phrased it another way. "Don't you see how old I am? A frail woman such as I needs a place to sit."

"There's plenty of space to go around." Volkner's voice came out muffled due to the pillow. It was true that there were more couches all over the room, some of them even empty.

Unbothered, she adjusted her brown scarf and sat on his feet until he finally decided to sit up with an exaggerated howl of pain. "Goodness gracious, young people these days. And fix that hair, will you?"

"Does he need to, really?" Flint came up behind him and ruffled a hand through his hair. His friend didn't even have the energy to fight back. "It wouldn't be Volkner without a horrible bedhead."

"Alakazam can do it for him," Fantina said, her accent thick as she clasped both hands together around her glass. "Poor thing."

Fantina, I hold a great deal of respect for you; however, I must convey with complete sincerity that I would rather die a horrible, agonizing death, Alakazam said without an ounce of hesitation.

"Wow! Thanks, Alakazam," Volkner sarcastically whined. "Much appreciated!"

I didn't ask, he said.

"Well, what's this, his second-ever breakup?" Byron chimed in. He placed his chin on his shovel's handle and smiled. "Those always tough, when you're a young'un."

"Hmhm. You think you'll do better than your first, and you're dejected when they end early anyway." Flint nodded with a pensive look and a hand on his chin.

Bertha clicked her tongue. "That's just because you're a slob. I ought to get a cane one of these days to whip you up into a proper man."

The fire type specialist chuckled. "What's the saying again? If they can't handle me at my worst, they don't deserve me at my best," he said with a hand on his chin.

"Your 'best' is like putting an anchor around your would-be girlfriend's neck," Bertha said, unimpressed. "Back to the topic at hand. Volkner, no matter how dejected you are, this ceremony is about paying respects. There are news crews from foreign countries here, and the League's image will not suffer because little Volkner feels sad."

"I get it, I get it!" Volkner got up as he waved an annoyed hand. "I'll fix myself up." He shuffled toward the bathroom with a seemingly endless sigh. The room quieted down once he left, something Gardenia was endlessly grateful for.

Maylene was, too. All this talk about breakups was making her uncomfortable. For no reason at all. Once Lucian finished checking in with the event organizers on his phone— they were going to run out of a certain type of cheese— he made his way to Maylene and spared her an apologetic look.

"Maylene, my dear; I must warn you." He crouched and looked up at her, his purple hair glistening with every subtle movement. "Your father is here."

Byron's grip on his shovel tightened. "What's he want?"

They'd all heard about Oscar's behavior lately. While Maylene mostly vented to Grace or Cecilia, her support system was a wide net. Their opinions of him had lowered considerably since he had been back in Sinnoh. The older Gym Leaders had only known Oscar as their coworker. Tough, but fair, and most of all, reliable. They hadn't known Oscar the father. Even when she was seen with him, he never acted out or lashed out in public; he'd curated his image well.

"Officially, to pay his respects to Craig. He fought him numerous times and found him an excellent battling partner," Lucian explained. "I doubt you'll have to interact with him. As he is no longer a Gym Leader, he does not have access to this area. I do believe Poketch has given him a pass to their building, though."

Maylene shared a worried glance with Gardenia. With his aura, he'd be able to find her wherever she went.

"It's a pressure tactic," Roark said. "Just by being here, he ruins her day. He might have thought that she'd be a speaker and that he could make her mess up."

"Well, I better get going, then." Byron stood up and hoisted his shovel over his shoulder. Maylene looked at him like he was crazy. "What?" he asked. "I just want to talk to him, that's all."

"Don't get into a fight," Bertha warned without as much as a second glance.

Maylene wrung her hands together so strongly she would have broken any other human's. "You'd lose handily. I appreciate the sentiment, though."

"...I'd get at least one good hit in." Byron sat back down and scratched the back of his neck.

"You would need a hospital in seconds," Bertha said.

What could Maylene do now? It wasn't like they could force him out without creating a scene. A confrontation was probably coming, one she could avoid if she stayed holed up in here until she could go back to her Gym. Part of her thought she could call Grace over here instead, but would she bail at the sudden change of plan, or think it was a trap of some kind? She knew Grace was weird with the spots she liked to have important moments or conversations in. What if this was the last opportunity Maylene would get—

"Well, Maylene was planning on meeting a friend without all of us bothering her about it here," Gardenia made Maylene panic. For a moment, she thought the grass type specialist would reveal her crush. "It kind of throws a wrench into her plans."

"A friend?" Fantina smiled. You didn't have to let her continue to see that she was curious.

"J—just a friend, yeah. Nothing special." Maylene had stuttered and slurred a few of her words, which made Fantina even more curious. "I'll manage, somehow."

"I'll go with you." Candice's voice was so low that Maylene was pretty sure she was the only one who'd caught what she had said. "Your dad's a creep; I'll beat him up." A little louder, this time.

Nia nodded and ignored Bertha's japing. "I was going to say the same thing! The thing about abusers like Oscar is that they want to preserve their squeaky-clean image. As long as you're in public and you have people around you, it should be fine."

The conversation would have continued had Alakazam not cleared his throat. The Champion is up and will be arriving shortly, he said, idly staring at one of his spoons. Get ready.



"The day I met him, he showed me around the place. Told me it didn't matter if I had really common Pokémon and that we'd get far through hard work." Ramon's face was softened by a hint of nostalgia, his eyes distant as the memory had shaped him deeply. "I still can't believe he's gone. I'll miss him."

"Yeah…" I whispered.

"He was the model we followed to strive to be better." Bobby spoke of the dead in hushed tones, I had learned. It was no different for Craig. "Especially Aubri—"

"Shut it," she snapped. Even now, the rasp in her voice due to a lung injury was surprising. It certainly made her capture people's attention easier. "I'm not here because I want to be involved in these conversations."

"Then why are you here?" Ramon asked.

"Because… because I just enjoy listening. It makes it feel like he's still here."

The elevator dinged, and we all made our way toward the lobby. While they had talked my ear off, it had been fun to listen to old stories about Craig. Even years ago, he'd been dependable enough to have made a mark on so many trainers. Others I hadn't known had joined in upstairs to chime in with their own experiences with him. He'd touched so many lives it was difficult to fathom. That was the tale of a man whose story would resonate for generations, whispered among the lips of those who sought to embody his spirit or his perseverance. He'd be a beacon for all Sinnohan Trainers for decades to come.

I wanted my own life to leave a similar mark on the world. Alas, so far, I hadn't done a great job, and instead of going out there and making the world a better place, I was stuck in a prison of my own making, and I had thrown away the key.

Fingers constantly twitching around my waist at the lack of Pokeballs there, we exited the building and were met by thousands of people navigating the plaza. I was lucky my hearing aid was actually the right one, or it would have acted up the entire time. Attendants carrying drinks on plates, guests speaking among themselves, news crews darting between clusters of people— all contributed to the cacophony that filled the expansive space the company had set up.

Things weren't just rosy, though. Despite having my empathy under control, the need to consciously keep it at bay surged in my mind. Like having to keep a hand pressed on an old wound.

That sure is a sad way to put it. That was my gift to you! One that saved your hide multiple times! Don't you go calling it a wound!

Today of all days? Okay, maybe I didn't need to compare it to a wound, but the mild headache all these people brought me wasn't helping things. Luckily most of the attention was kept by Aubri's sombre, scarred visage and not me. Under any other circumstances, I would have been up to talking to reporters. Melody and my time with Poketch had given me a decent amount of media training; the issue was that it just wasn't a good day. Mesprit should have known this.

Oh, don't mind me, I'm just watching! Mesprit started to hum a little song that reverberated around my brain. Good luck today, Grace! It sure will be enter— err, I mean, I hope you manage to get through to that other human girl!

You know that just because you caught yourself doesn't mean I didn't understand what you were going to say, right? I thought back as I bit my lip. Whatever. Just stay quiet today, and you'll be able to harass me after. Things should only start improving from here.

Sure! The sarcasm was almost physical and nearly made me miss a step.

It was Bobby who caught me by the arm, his grip strong despite his thin stature. I ignored the urge to pull away, one so harsh I might have bruised my arm. "You okay, Grace?" Due to how loud everyone was, it was tough to parse out his words. "You've seemed off since we met."

I frowned. What was up with me? That wasn't how I usually reacted to touch— and it had nothing to do with intent, or the fact that Bobby was a guy. "I'm okay." I could only muster a whisper none of them heard. It wasn't at all a feeling of repulsion, but a want to keep him safe. As if he'd just touched something radioactive. When glancing at the palm of his hand, it seemed dark. Sullied.

"Maybe it's because you orchestrated a palace coup to fuck her over, fucking me in the process." Aubri shoved her hands deeply into the pockets of her jacket, and her lips pressed together.

"No, no, we already worked out all of that. It's just a mild headache," I said. To me, that had been a lifetime ago, but to Aubri, it was still a fresh event she was still bitter about.

"Let's get to our seats quickly, then," Ramon said.

While seats in the venue cost way more than your usual ticket, we'd gotten ours for free. They were organized in three rows, each one growing larger the further back you got from the stage. The first was free and reserved for Craig's family and friends. His parents were already there, as were Lauren and three older people I assumed were grandparents. Professor Rowan was also sitting there, so I assumed they must have known each other well. Craig's Pokemon were to the side— even the massive Gyarados, whose serpentine body stretched for dozens of feet. There were plenty of other people I didn't know, but the only one I knew by name was Sarah Newman, easily spotted due to her white hair and her getup. It was as if she'd just gotten out of bed and still wore whatever she'd slept with— comfortable shorts and a shirt bigger than she was.

"Yikes. She sticks out like a sore thumb," Ramon whispered.

She did. A dot of colors among respectful, dark clothes that made her stand out and garner a lot of attention. She was currently ignoring a pair of reporters I recognized from the Solaceon Tournament. It was funny how small the world was.

The second row of seats was ours, and would be filled with Poketch sponsees and high-ranking employees. This was where the company's founder— Remington McMillan— would sit along with the rest of the board, including his son Landis. One of them, whose name had slipped my mind, was being pushed in a wheelchair toward his seat, and he looked utterly lost. This was one of the esteemed board members? He looked practically senile!

Either way, this was where we'd be sitting. Bobby and I were pretty far up there due to how important we were. He looked in his element here, far more comfortable than I was. Next to me was Craig's liaison, whose name I only knew thanks to Melody. Jonathan Pierremont. He looked to be in his fifties and had followed Craig along his entire career within the company. Needless to say, the death had hit him hard. Unfortunately, while dad was an engineer for Poketch with a decent amount of responsibility, his seat would be in a third row.

Which was basically for everybody else.

Chairs had been set up on the stage where Cynthia, the Elite Four and the Gym Leaders would sit while people spoke of Craig. I was pretty sure the only person who was going to speak in that group besides Cynthia was Volkner.

Five minutes to the first speech by Cynthia. My phone dinged, which wasn't unusual. My friends were talking to each other through our group chat and had sent numerous messages since we'd arrived—

Maylene - just a heads up my father is here somewhere. If you see him dont threaten to kill him. he wants attention

Maylene - to make a scene and be seen as the victim to better his position and make people who would defend me look bad

Seriously? Did that piece of shit have no limits or what? I knew he wouldn't learn his lesson after only being pushed out of the gym, but didn't he have another kid on the way? A pregnant wife to take care of instead of playing these meaningless games? If he wanted to be a leader so bad, someone people looked up to again, he could start by volunteering to help Snowpointers get back on their feet. Someone with Pokemon of his level and with aura would be a great help to rebuild the city's port.

Obviously, Oscar wanted none of that. Because he was a pathetic narcissist who deserved to die from mysterious circumstances.

You - I wouldn't threaten to kill him.

Maylene - YES U WOUDL U DINGUS

You - Maybe just a tiny bit.

You - Are you going to be okay? Do you need help?

Maylene - its fine just stay put. he wont start anything with you so close to the ceremony starting. and after that well be together anyuway. Candice and Nia r bringing me inside.

You - Okay. Be safe.

By the time we were done texting, an organizer hastily walked onto the stage. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Protector of the frontier, Commander-in-Chief of the armed forces; the first Champion of the Sinnohan Republic, Cynthia Collins, along with her Elite Four and Gym Leaders," he announced in a respectful tone. He couldn't sound too excited.

The nascent applause disappeared the moment Cynthia showed herself. The Champion's steps rang true; she commanded absolute silence over the crowd. There was not even a single word spoken. Cynthia walked in long strides, her familiar black coat billowing behind her in the wind. Following her first was Togekiss— she didn't go anywhere without him anymore— then the Elite Four in pairs of two in their order of perceived strength. Lucian and Flint first, then Bertha and Aaron. Finally, the Gym Leaders by their seniority— how long they had held the position. That meant Fantina was first and Maylene last—

Anxiety seized me to the very core of my being when I saw her. She was wearing a black suit, its lines crisp and sharp. It clung to her shoulders and was tight around her waistline. Somehow I hadn't expected her to wear one of those, but then again, she didn't really like feminine clothing. It looked quite good on her.

She scanned the crowd, and somehow she found me in an instant. Our eyes locked for a moment before she loosened her collar, and then she looked forward and filed into the final chair left for her.

Only Cynthia remained standing on the podium. She moved the microphone attached to it up and began to speak. "Citizens of Sinnoh." I was struck by how clear and confident her voice was, nothing like how it had been when she'd left the Distortion World. She began by thanking both Poketch and Kanto-Johto for having made this event possible, followed, of course, by her own League employees. Knowing dad, he probably would have grumbled at the ordering there.

"Of course, we gather here today to celebrate Craig Goodwill's life. It is so important for us to all remember that without him in Coronet to stop Team Galactic's nefarious plans, devastation would have befallen our beloved country." Almost as if on cue, the row of flags on back of the stage all glistened and flapped in the wind. Was Togekiss the one doing all of that stuff? To be honest, I'd nearly forgotten the fairy was on stage, and that was probably the case for everyone here. "I will not mince words with you all, this year has been a tough one for all involved. Your rights were sacrificed, the economy is still reeling, and over twelve thousand people died in the largest scale terrorist attack Sinnoh had ever known since the Great War."

She paused, eyes gleaming with determination, hands gripping the side of her lectern. "Sinnoh reels, but it remains standing. We remain standing. It is perseverance that defined much of Craig's life, much like it encompasses Sinnoh. A land marked by its harsh, unyielding terrain, where the biting cold winds sweep across the landscape, and little of our land is arable. Like everyone else, he began at the age of fifteen…"

Cynthia went into much of Craig's life, focusing on the greatest moments and qualities. Negotiating with a known herd of aggressive Hippowdon off-route to capture his own, charming them over many days. His prowess at bringing people together and networking, his incredible victory over Candice's grandmother and his viral clip that followed, his negotiating skills that always had both parties winning something

Nearly all of it was new to me, but she basked his life in love and reverence possibly never before given to anyone other than another Champion. I met eyes with Maylene a few times during the speech, and each and every time, it felt like my soul was trying to jump out of my skin. I used to be able to have her look at me or talk to me and be fine. It was fine. But ever since I'd realized she liked me, things hadn't been the same. Beyond the obvious reasons of 'it wasn't like that with her' and 'today was going to be a super difficult conversation,' I just hated this constant anxiety wrapping around me like an Ekans.

"And I want to extend my deepest gratitude to Benjamin and Lilianna Goodwill for raising a man of such unwavering moral fiber," Cynthia said, gesturing at the two parents. "I am sorry for your loss, I truly am. Your son was a great man, and Sinnoh will find itself lacking without him." She turned back toward the audience. "Thank you."

Thunderous applause and whistling erupted, mostly from behind us in the third row. While his family did clap, it was more of a polite applause than anything, from what I could see if I craned my neck. It was a hell of a speech, but it was tainted by the context in which it was given. Draped in the flag, fundraising, and most of all, the fact that it was obviously being used as a common loss to unite the country in a time of crisis.

But what could you do?

Next came Craig's family. Both of his parents went onto the stage, followed closely by Lauren and her grandparents. His father looked a lot like him. Chubbier and older, but the same. It took me a while to understand that Lilianna wouldn't speak. Couldn't speak. Her breaths were a quivering mess, and she looked like she was about to burst into tears. Lauren looked dejected and slightly angry. Her face occasionally twitched, her jaw was clenched, and her eyes had narrowed into a mild glare directed at the crowd, piercing enough for even me to feel guilty.

Benjamin's approach was a more somber speech. One of loss and how he'd miss the little moments with his son. The way he heard him work in his room every time he passed through that hallway, a constant in their lives, as if Craig had vowed to snatch his destiny into his own hands and molded it into his own. How it had eroded at his mental health like waves worn down a cliff. The weeks where nothing had gone right, the days where he argued with Roxie, the sheer toll that being great had brought upon his body and mind.

How he learned sign language for hours on end as a child just in case Lauren was mute to the point that his grades started to slip— just for her to speak her first words at the age of three and a half anyway. The way he always refused to swear around children, and how he loved imparting knowledge to them. The nights as a young child when he'd kept his father and mother up, forcing them to watch footage of the battles he found interesting. He got mad whenever it looked like they weren't paying attention. How he dreamed of fighting and besting every Champion and how giddy he'd been watching footage of the Galarian Champion's battles because he was certain that a few more years would see him become the greatest the world had ever seen in competitive battling.

It went on. And on. And on. The little things that made a person whole, each note driving the stake further into our hearts. While Cynthia asked Sinnoh to remember Craig the symbol, his family was asking the country to remember Craig the person.

And damn it.

That got me. That really got me.

I wiped my eyes with my arm and sniffled. It was never fair. This one didn't get as much applause, but it was the most effective on Craig's fellow trainers. I was pretty sure the majority of them had burst into tears, Bobby included. Not just a few tears, either. He was ugly crying, sobbing into his hands at the devastating loss.

I wasn't sure his death had actually hit a lot of trainers that knew him. Until this very moment.



Maylene had never seen Candice cry this hard. She thought her friend might have needed to be taken off the stage, at least until her nails sank into her thighs through the fabric of her pants, and she gently closed her eyes. The pace of her breaths took a slow, deliberate rhythm as if she was trying to steady herself, to pull back from the edge of overwhelming emotion. By the time Craig's family had stepped off the stage, Candice had brought herself back from the brink.

Both Gardenia and Volkner checked in on her, being the ones sitting on both her flanks. The latter was going to speak soon, right after another one of Craig's friends went through.

"I'm fine. I'm gonna be okay," Candice said. Without a microphone to carry their voices further, they could speak freely as long as they kept it down and they didn't do it while someone was giving their own eulogy. "Eugh. That would have been a good cry to let all of the feelings out."

"Can't look bad in front of the crowd," Volkner said with a familiar sigh.

"These things are hard on your heart," the ice type Gym Leader said. "Grandma used to say that."

Maylene had gotten teary-eyed, but her childhood had trained her to keep those in, or it'd make Oscar angrier. Of course, sometimes the dam had to break, and it just didn't work. That was what had happened at her Gym when she'd tried to take all of the work for herself. Recalling the memory made her glance at Grace again, and Maylene found her crying. Her entire body tensed, and alarm bells rang in her head— like she was going into fight or flight mode. She felt a hand on her arm, and the buzzing in her ears slowly faded into the background.

Gardenia looked at her with a gentle smile. "Relax, the next speech is starting."

Maylene's eyes flickered to the lectern, where she saw Sarah Newman lean against the polished wood, her grip relaxed and hand scratching the back of her head as if she didn't know what to say—



"Um. I didn't really come here with a speech in mind, or anything," Sarah Newman said, her voice nearly void of emotion. While I knew about her, this was the first time I'd heard her speak. A small commotion stirred through the crowd as people stared at each other as if this was a bit of some sort. "I'm not really good at these."

Why would you go up there and not know what to say? Just having her up there was giving me mild second-hand embarrassment. Especially when I knew from Melody that she'd demanded to be put on the speaking schedule.

"Do you know her?" I asked as I leaned toward Bobby.

"Not really. She has her own friends, but I never knew her as anything more than Craig's old flame," he whispered. "She wasn't really involved in the Poketch orbit."

Sarah Newman tapped her finger against the wooden podium. "My name's Sarah Newman. I'm Craig's best friend and rival." She took a breath, slowly finding her footing. "Craig and I, we watched a lot of battles together, and we battled too, of course. That's when we were the closest. Pokemon Training and battling was our common ground."

Another round of murmurs, this time probably from people asking themselves why she was introducing herself or stating the obvious. But there was something special in that, or at least I thought so.

"When we were kids, we used to fight over who'd be the Champion and who would be our second in command in the Elite Four." Sarah looked behind her; at Flint, Bertha, Lucian, Aaron, and Cynthia. "We didn't have plans or anything, you know? But, uh, we were children. It was just throwing a bunch of stuff that sounded good at the wall."

There was a pause, like she had lost her train of thought. All of a sudden, she changed the topic. "Craig— Craig was the kind of guy whose mere presence could just breathe new life into you. Having him at your side just made you more confident. You know, if you were anxious, or you were scared, he'd always be there to smile at you and give you a hand. I think there's something beautiful about that." Sarah shook her head with a snort. "It's silly. He'd always say to just see things through no matter what. That by the end it wouldn't seem as bad, and what you learned from failing more than made up for how shit you'd feel for a few days." There was a slight gasp in the crowd at the swear. This was televised. "Of course, more often than not, he didn't apply that to himself. It took him a while to learn, but the words— he, uh, he truly meant the words. I think. I know."

She pulled at a strand of her hair in front of her nearly-covered eyes. "He was outgoing. He was loud. And— and he could be really funny. Sometimes. And there was—there was something about him; he could walk into a room and immediately read the pulse of it, you know? He could just tune right in. He would know x, y, z, what they wanted and how to make them walk out of there happier than they were when they'd entered. He was just that magnetic." Sarah adjusted the microphone a little closer to her mouth. "He was my first true friend, I think. Pushed me to heights I would never have reached without that competition. Made me want to be a better person who helped people for the sake of helping them and to see them as more than little sock puppets I could punch to soak in more battling experience."

"And you know, I didn't— I don't really like how we drifted apart for so many years." Her bottom lip quivered. "All because of some fight. I could have texted him sooner, you know? I mean, I needed time to cool off, but then he blocked me, and things just got so complicated. And I had— I just— I don't know. It's like— okay, we fought. Who cares? I love you." A nervous laugh left her lips, and a few tears rolled down her cheek. "I love you," she repeated. "That's it, I guess. I'm done. Thanks for listening."

She released her Swanna, hopped on her back, and just… flew off.

I was one of the few who cried for that one.



An hour and a half of speeches had never felt so paradoxical— swift in passing, yet somehow drawn out. When Remington McMillan finally delivered his closing words, Maylene, the other Gym Leaders, and the Elite Four formed a solemn line behind Cynthia, hands clasped behind their backs. Cynthia stood at the front, the Elite Four following in her wake, and the eight Gym Leaders in a final row behind them. All, except Cynthia, bowed in unison, a gesture of gratitude to everyone who had come to honor Craig's memory.

Maylene's legs were numb from sitting for too long. She eyed the crowd leaving in front of her. Most of them would slowly filter out while a minority would stay behind and enjoy what Poketch had to offer them. Supposedly they were going to replay Craig's run of the Conference last year on the projector screen behind them for those who wanted to see. The Gym Leader couldn't see Grace anymore, but she felt her leave and reenter the building.

She'd be waiting.

Back in the waiting room, Cynthia gave them a short spiel about a job well done. Work never stopped for her, even in the wake of Galactic. She'd be going back to the Lily with the rest of her Elites to keep running things, but had given the Gym Leaders the rest of the day off.

Finally, Maylene could go see Grace to hear what she had to say. Both Candice and Gardenia walked at her side, keeping an eye out for her dad. Wherever he was, Oscar was either masking his aura or too far away for her to be able to distinguish him from the crowd.

"So what's this 'bout meeting a friend?" Candice asked, in slightly higher spirits. She was not back to her usual self yet, but this had been closure for her as it had been for many who had come. "Maymay, you look like someone's going to eat you whole. I've never seen you this nervous."

Gardenia shot Maylene a look as she adjusted her hair again, as if to ask if they should tell her. Maylene wasn't sure how to answer. She'd always considered both girls her best friends— people who she rarely hid things from. Unfortunately, Candice was a blabbermouth who couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

"You don't know her," Maylene lied.

"Ooooh, her?" She leaned forward, grinned, and wriggled her eyebrows. "If I don't, then what's the issue? Do you think yours truly will embarrass you?" She placed a hand on her chest in faux indignation. "Does she have a name?"

Okay, she was getting way too curious about this. Maylene could lie about the name and say the first thing that came to her mind, or she could spill the beans to satisfy her. "Gr—" Oh, God, she'd nearly actually said her name. "Hope? Hope." When Candice squinted at her, Maylene finally relented. "Fine, okay! It's Grace Pastel. Happy?"

"Come on, do you want me not to know so bad? I won't tell anyone about your crush, gosh!"

Still focused on the thinning crowd, Gardenia helpfully chimed in. "She's telling the truth, Candice."

"Oh." Her eyes widened, and she gasped. "Wait, what? Excuse me?! Did I miss something— I missed something big, didn't I? Doesn't she have a girlfriend already? Oh man, this is so dramatic!" She clutched her hands to her chest, a look of disbelief and excitement spreading across her face.

"I've been helping her deal with it in my own time," Gardenia explained. "You were… well, dealing with your own issues. Sorry."

"I get it. At least I'm caught up now— wait, how did this happen? Spill the tea!"

Somehow, Candice didn't have to reconcile the fact that the last time she'd regularly spoken with Grace had been to plan her apology to Maylene. Apparently, the last text message they'd shared was Grace sending her condolences about Craig, but communication had been spare post-Coronet, with Grace dealing with all of her issues and Candice having to deal with the massive crisis in Snowpoint. Sure, she'd known that they had ascended Coronet together, but she'd still believed that had been the end of their relationship. Somehow, Candice didn't care at all that it turned her understanding of Maylene's rapport with Grace upside down.

"What can I say, I'm a hopeless romantic," Candice said before barking out a loud laugh. Maylene wanted to shush her, but seeing her friend have such a good time after a tough day was too good to pass up. Her happiness was infectious. "So? What's the plan; come on, fill me in, gals!"

"There's no plan," Maylene said. "Pretty sure I'm about to get rejected prematurely. Not that I was going to even confess." Nothing good could come out of the coming conversation, that was for sure.

They'd almost made it inside the building, now. No signs of Oscar. "Aw, shucks. I thought you two had a date or something."

"Why would we have a date when she has a girlfriend?" Maylene asked.

Candice opened her mouth, but exhaled as she lost her retort. "Fair point. Well, that's a bummer, but you should try to remain optimistic! Maybe things won't be catastrophic!"

"Let's— manage her expectations here," Gardenia cut in.

"Ahhh, Nia. Always the pragmatist to rein me in and ruin my fun. Wait, we should be, like, the devil and angel on her shoulders giving her love advice."

Nia couldn't help but smile and look at her fondly. "Your advice would just be to confess immediately."

"N—no. My advice would be to lock all three girls into a room and not let them out until something happened," Candice said. Maylene felt her face grow warm. "Not that. Come on, I wasn't actually making an innuendo, okay, don't yell at me!"

"I wasn't going to yell…"

"What's this?" her friend poked her in the arm. "Maymay no longer gets mad at those? Nia, this is a transformation of the highest order! I'm liking this new gay Maylene already."

The teasing was relentless, and Gardenia enjoyed it too. Or maybe she just enjoyed whatever came out of Candice's silly mouth. Maylene was pretty sure she was in love, now that she'd gotten a better look at the two. Was that why Nia had felt so compelled to help her, even when it got in the way of work? They'd known each other since they were fifteen, and they were both nineteen now. Maylene hoped she would know Grace just as long; just being by her side and here to support her was enough for her.

At last, they were face to face with the wide glass doors of the entrance. Maylene could feel Grace's presence thrumming inside like a bonfire.

"Are you sure I don't look stupid?" Maylene desperately asked.

"What, no! You look dapper!" Gardenia clapped her back and pushed her forward. "Go ahead, Maymay. You can do this! And remember, if your dad somehow finds you, just ignore him and call us. We'll come inside a few minutes after you and keep an eye out."

"We'll be rooting for you!" Candice said. "Turn up the charm! Wink at her and speak with a sultry voice—" she yelped when Gardenia pinched the side of her arm. "Ow, ow, ow. Okay, don't do that! Be yourself!"

Security let her in without a fuss thanks to her ranking as a Gym Leader. Breathe in, breathe out. Okay. Maylene felt nervous, but strangely, now that the moment had come, she felt a lot calmer than she'd been stewing up on that stage with only ideas of what could happen to keep her company. As planned, Grace had been waiting at their designated meeting spot— a sort of waiting area inside of the Poketch building with a bunch of couches and magazines years out of date. 'Cynthia's Democratic Reforms: What You Need To Know' and 'New Economic Boom: How Free Trade Brought Riches To Sinnoh' were on top of the pile.

Grace wasn't sitting. She was so focused on her own thoughts that she hadn't seen Maylene coming. The short necklace she'd been wearing earlier was no longer there, meaning she had recalled Meltan. Her leg was repeatedly bouncing beneath her dress. It was a simple dark dress that flowed down to her tibia, right above where her burn scars ended. The fabric swayed slightly with each restless movement. Her hair was different; it cascaded down her back in curls instead of being straight, and—

Was she wearing lip gloss?

She was. Her teeth were firmly clamped down on her glittering bottom lip. Maylene froze for a few seconds, hypnotized by the sheen that caught the bright lights in the ceiling. Don't just watch her like a weirdo. Say something. But Maylene wanted a moment to take it all in, just in case this was the last time they'd see each other. To sear the image into her brain so she could recall it every time she closed her eyes.

No. She had to speak up.

"Uh—"

"Gah!" Grace jumped, causing a few faces to turn her way. With a hand halfway into her black purse, she sighed in relief. "S—sorry. I wasn't expecting you to get here so fast. I—I thought you'd have Gym Leader stuff to deal with or something."

Maylene noticed that Grace struggled to look her in the eye when it was usually the opposite. Was it okay to act how she usually did? Should she be serious? Candice had said to be herself… "Sorry for sneaking up on you. Are you alright? I saw you cry earlier, so I was worried."

"Oh, I'm fine. I just— some of the speeches got to me, I guess. I'll miss Craig and the weight he had on this world. It was a very nice shape," she quietly spoke.

Maylene didn't really know what the whole deal with shapes was. She knew what it generally meant, but it was a cute way to phrase it and was shaped by Grace's view of the world.

"Nothing about Oscar?" Grace asked. She clenched her burned arm and squeezed.

"No. I think he's actually laying off, at least for now. So I doubt we'll be interrupted," Maylene said.

For a moment, Maylene thought she was going to start speaking about her texts, and she braced herself with a wince. "So. A suit, huh?"

"Oh, this old thing?" She let out a nervous laugh, and her heart skipped a beat. "Yeah. Never been comfortable in dresses; I know it's weird—"

"It's not, it fits you really well; you should wear what you like."

A warm feeling fluttered up her stomach. Maylene hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, "your lips look nice too. I mean you look nice too." No answer. She quickly cleared her throat to get through the awkward silence. "I like the hair. Your hair's nice. Uh. Sorry."

"Oh. Right, the gloss." It was as if pressure stopped choking her when she found out why Maylene had commented on her lips. "I was wearing some yesterday too, so… it's not special or anything. I figured I'd come in the same outfit." Grace looked at herself, then pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. "Uh, we should get going."

"Where?"

"This isn't a great spot to talk. Too many people," Grace said. "Let's go upstairs; I'm pretty sure they'll let you through. There are some employees and trainers up there now that the speeches are done, but we can find an empty room somewhere. I wish we could do it at your Gym, though…" she finished with a murmur.

Maylene followed her in a silence so thick she found it difficult to take full breaths. Grace wasn't looking at her. Not even when they were in the elevator, or when Maylene called out to her to tell her about Candice doing okay in an attempt to make small talk before they'd have to start the big conversation. She wanted to delay, to ask her to spend a little time with her with no strings attached, to tell her that actually, everything was fine and she didn't need any clarification if that meant she would never be close to Grace again. They struggled for a bit to find a place they could use. Grace tried some kind of private room for sponsored trainers, but there were people there talking already.

And so, they found themselves not in the cushy executive rooms Maylene had expected from Poketch, but in a bathroom near the ends of Jubilee Tower made for high-ranking people in the company. She released her Electivire and Togekiss, instructed them to not let anyone in, and then closed the door.

There would be no delaying. That was the sentiment that sank into Maylene's mind as Grace turned toward her, eyes fixated on the floor. She remained right next to the door, clinging to it as if she'd need an escape route.

Maylene hoped she was ready to take whatever came next.



It was so quiet.

It was a certain kind of quiet. Not the one where you literally couldn't hear anything— I could, even though I was deaf in one ear. It was a quiet that ate away at you and wanted to forcefully drag the words out of your mouth. There was the quiet, constant dripping of a leaky faucet in one of the sinks. The faint hum of the air conditioning whispered through the air, one that grew louder and louder as if to demand retribution for my lack of honesty. My ear rang deafeningly loudly as I let go of the door handle. The bright, white lights shone over Maylene, but I didn't see her. Couldn't see her. For the past ten minutes, all I'd seen was the lower half of her body.

"There's—" the words died in my throat. Stick to the plan no matter how painful it is. "There's something I have to tell you before we begin. First, I'm sorry for avoiding you this past week while keeping you in the dark. It was wrong of me, and I should have been better." The apology came easy after the first bump in the road.

"You already apologized," Maylene said. "It's okay."

Why was she speaking to me like that? Why was she never angry at me? Not even her body had reacted negatively beyond the subtle, nervous movement of her fingers. "I still felt the need to say it in person. Texting it is a coward's way of doing things, and that's what I was for a week. A coward." I saw her shuffle her feet. Dark men's shoes that looked a little too big for her. "Anyway, I guess I should start at the beginning."

I waited to see if she had a question. There were none, so I followed my mental flowchart.

"There's this thing about me. It's hard to explain— no, it's easy to explain, but it's difficult to say." Damn it, I was already tripping up over my words. "I think that the fact I never experienced any true friendships or love before this year began, combined with everything that happened with all the danger and the death, it makes me get attached to people very easily. To an unhealthy degree. To the point where not having them in my life can drain me of all of my energy and can be physically painful."

Again, no reaction. Was she waiting until I was finished entirely? That was the best-case scenario due to having so few deviations.

"Last week was when I realized how bad it actually was. And, uh, Cecilia kind of figured it would be best for us to take a break." Maylene tensed up at that, and I nearly looked up at her before reining myself in.

"A break?" she asked. "Was— was it my—"

"No!" My fists clenched as I yelled. My voice echoed on the walls and mirrors of the bathroom. "No. It wasn't because of you. The decision was Cecilia's, and at the time I thought my world was ending, but I see now that it was the right decision. So— so I've been taking it one day at a time. Healing. The first two days were the hardest, but my friends pulled me out of that dark place. I'll be talking to a therapist in a few days to fix myself, and doing things away from them. So I can learn what it's like to be normal."

Maylene's hands gripped the side of her pants. "What does that mean for us?"

"I don't think we should see each other that regularly until I am fixed," I hesitantly declared. Every word felt like someone was pulling nails off my fingers.

"But— how long will that take?" she asked, desperation leaking through her voice. "You're leaving in a few months! I—I can help you, Grace. I can teach you what it's like—"

"No. You can't." The taste of metal spread through my mouth. "Maylene, I don't think you understand. I'm a mess, okay? I'm broken. You've been doing so well lately with your Gym, and I would just drag you down. Chip away at you like some kind of disease. Slow at first, but then you'd blink and realize how I fucked up your life. You'd be even worse than most, really, because you're special to me. It's like if I have you, I'd need to have all of you. All the time. I wouldn't be able to slam the brakes. I can't live without having someone, and it'll feel like any time not spent with you might be wasted, or maybe I still feel like I only have a set amount of time before the world ends, or both, or… or…" I finished, nearly out of breath. I had nearly veered off-course; distractions weren't something I could afford. Sweat dripped down my forehead and onto the pristine floor.

"Why won't you look at me?" she asked. Why did she ask that? That wasn't— what was the relevance in that? "You're not even talking to me. You're just… it's like you're reading off a list." She knew me too well. "Let me help you, Grace."

"No. It wouldn't be fair to you; you would be a replacement for Cecilia." My mouth tasted like ashes. That was a lie. "I can't do that to you."

Maylene started to walk forward—

I took as many steps back as I could until I hit the door behind me. I watched her black shoes take long strides until she was so close to me that our feet nearly touched. Maylene grabbed me by the hand— or tried until I pulled again.

"D—don't," I whimpered. "I'll taint you."

"Then taint me," Maylene declared, fingers interlacing with mine. She crouched, and her face entered my field of vision. There was not a trace of anger, disappointment, or disgust on her. "I know this is selfish of me to say, but I won't give up on you, Grace. Not until you love yourself."

Not until I loved myself.

Was that possible? Maylene seemed to ardently believe it.

Seeing her like this, as bright as a star, an angel reaching down to pull me from the murky depths of my own mind, I couldn't help but wonder why. It might have seemed absurd at first— I knew why. She was in love with me. But that was only a fraction of the truth of it all, a piece of a larger picture. The real answer lay in something deeper, something that could be summed up in three simple words. The essence of who she was; the shape she took as she interacted with the world; the way she made others feel.

She was Good.

Goodness in her wasn't just a matter of kindness or morality; it was an intrinsic part of her being, woven into the very fabric of her soul and packed into something beautiful. It was the way she looked at you, not just seeing, but desperate to understand so she could help. The tenderness in her voice when I deserved nothing but scorn. And I tried, oh, I tried to do it like her, yet I only found myself struggling against myself. Where killing and wounding came easy, mindfulness was an uphill battle, a war within myself that I couldn't seem to win. She made it look effortless, as if compassion was as natural as breathing.

Maylene was better than me. The truth was, every chance to interact with her was a stroke of luck I did not deserve. I nearly ruined her once and would ruin her if we kept this going. Yet she had forgiven me in full and was still waiting for my answer with that precious innocent smile of hers, like a Lillipup looking up at me. She had done it all expecting nothing in return. Yes, she wanted to spend time with me, but no matter what happened, I would still be leaving. We stood upon a bridge half-collapsed, unable to support both of our weights, but she still wanted to remain here and hold me. She refused to give up on me because she genuinely believed in me, even if she would join me in the crumbling of the flimsy foundation I stood on in the hope of repairing it.

She was a Hero. My Hero. Anointing me in this ceremony with the belief that I could be just as Good as she was.

"It'll be difficult," I muttered. A feeble attempt, when I knew the answer anyway. "I'm a high-maintenance person."

"I know," she said. "But you can't just isolate yourself from everyone you know and think that things will go better. It's— it's like addicts, right?" she stood up and placed a finger under my chin to get me to look up at her. Her other hand still held onto mine. "You can't just quit cold turkey, okay? Or the majority of people can't anyway. You'll either relapse really hard or just be unable to do anything. There has to be an… off-ramp."

"But I'll hurt you."

"You won't. And if you do, I can take it. I'm a big girl, okay?" she said. "Let's start with the obvious. What's with this tainting stuff?"

"Did you ask me to taint you without understanding what I was saying?"

She blushed. "M—maybe. How was I even supposed to get it? Only you say stuff like that."

"That's… fair."

Even now, I could see it. Shadows writhing on her hands where she touched me. They were fading now, just as they had with Bobby, but… I hadn't gotten those when my dad ruffled my hair or accidentally held my hand. "I don't know. It's new." I explained as best as I understood the phenomenon, which wasn't much. "It's probably nothing. Just a weird vision I'll talk to my therapist about. Maybe I'll sleep it off, and it'll be gone tomorrow."

"It's not nothing. You only say that because it's tough to talk about, and you want to brush it off. If you can see it, it's a lot more literal than I thought, though," Maylene said. "Do you see it now?" Her hand touched my upper arm, thumb gently caressing the side of my shoulder.

"Yeah. I—I don't like it. I think it's actually just because getting close to people scares me, now. Like I'll drag them down with me."

"Are you scared right now?"

The subtle pressure of her fingers rested against my naked shoulder, warm and light. "I'm terrified," I exhaled. "Like you're in danger. Like a horrible fate is going to befall you."

"Okay. Then how does practice sound?"

"Practice?"

"Yeah, like what we're doing now. Light touching, and then we can slowly ramp up. To whatever." What did 'whatever' even mean in this context? A hug? When I nodded, she continued. "And for your co-dependency issues, if I'm the closest to what it would be like with Cecilia, you can also practice on me, okay? We can…" Maylene thought for a few moments; I could see the gears turning in the head. "We can keep you on a schedule and stuff. Keep your life nice and orderly so you don't rely on me too much, but you're not dropped off the deep end, either." Realization hit her, and she quickly added, "You can do that with your other friends, too, it doesn't have to just be me! Same for the touching!"

What would Cecilia say? It wasn't like I could send her a message and ask her; she was already gone. I could justify it however I wanted— that I'd do this with my other friends, that it was to fix myself and the way I thought— at the end of the day, Maylene still liked me, and I was interacting with her. Not that she'd asked me not to, but there was a difference between helping her with her dad and being friends with her and whatever this was going to be. Touching was okay, but hugging for however long? No.

Still, I continued, hoping to bring this up later. "I think that might work," I said, struggling not to shake her hand off me. How strange, to crave her touch yet want to rid myself of it at the same time. "Plus, you live really far." She could always Teleport, but not being in the same house all the time would help.

"See, now you're starting to get into it!" she cheered. "This, combined with therapy? You should be back on your feet in no time! Since it's the week-end, we can start all of this stuff on Monday. I'll ask Nia to help me with the scheduling stuff—"

I winced and interrupted her. "Please, no. I know it sounds weird, but I don't think you should tell her. I just don't want her to think ill of me."

"Fine, but if it doesn't work out, I'm still asking her," Maylene said. "I'll deal with the scheduling myself— just the moments I can see you or not, of course; I'm not about to micromanage you, that'd make it worse. It'll have to be around my work hours, but Veilstone's doing okay enough now for me to take more time off. We're only doing, like, ten battles a day right now."

"Thank you, Maylene." Already, I felt a little lighter, like I was seeing light at the end of a very dark tunnel. There were still many steps required to make it there, but at least it was visible when it hadn't been since Cecilia left me.

"I said I'd help, didn't I?"

"Mhm. So, what's this practice going to be like?" I glanced at her hand. Not the one touching my shoulder— she'd since removed it and started typing at a Notes app on her phone— but the one holding onto my very sweaty hand. "Is there a time limit?"

"I mean, I haven't thought about that yet," Maylene said. "You're doing pretty well."

"It's still unpleasant. We should set out the rules of this first." I wrangled my hand out of hers and stilled my trembling fingers. It still felt warm. "This is therapeutic first and foremost."

"Right, right. It is."

"How about… ten minutes?" I threw a random number up in the air. It had to be long because we wouldn't see each other every day. "Every time we meet. We can set up an alarm, and everything. We don't want me to go into touch debt."

She giggled. "Touch debt? What the hell is even that?"

"Something I just made up for the purposes of this process!" I said, slightly frustrated.

"Okay, you dork."

I was beginning to like it when she called me that, at least according to the smile creeping up my lips and my mild anger instantly evaporating. "I just want strict guidelines; it's important to not lose sight of the goal here," I sighed. "When you said 'ramping up,' I assume you meant… like, nothing like hugging." Two lies in one day; she was really making me act out of habit.

"Oh. I just meant touching with two hands or pressing a little harder. Or more surface area," she said. Of course, she had meant that. I could breathe easy, now. "We can try hugs, too, whenever you're ready. Not for ten minutes, though, that'd be too long. Maybe thirty seconds."

"N—no. That's too far."

She nodded. "Yeah. That's fair."

Okay, thank the Legendaries, I managed that.

After painstakingly making a list of rules that we both wrote on our phones and double-checking every single line, I had her sign it like a contract. Verbal pacts were the backbone of the fae, and I'd be foolish not to cement this further. By the end, I was feeling a whole lot better. It was impossible to know how long this good mood would last, but I felt more ready to face the world and fix my issues than I'd been since Cecilia left— hell, Maylene had even gotten me somewhat pumped to get a therapist again.

"Thanks again for the help, Maylene." When we talked now, I could face her. How could I not, when she had seen me for who I was time and time again; the deepest recesses of what made me? She had witnessed my naked soul and given it another chance. There was no need to feel ashamed. "I feel so refreshed."

"Me too, believe it or not." She glanced down at her phone. "You know, it's been ten minutes, but I didn't actually touch you that long. We should start today."

I hesitated. "You know what, sure. Might as well get it over with. Set the alarm. We'll go for six minutes."

"Okay. Uh, here I go?"

Her hand hovered in the air for a moment, the warmth of her palm lingering just above my skin. I could sense her hesitation, the way her fingers wavered before finally descending toward my neck. The sensation was at first jarring, almost violently unpleasant. The shock of it coursed through me, sharp and unwelcome, like watching her push it down a path lined with razor blades. Once I witnessed that it did not hurt her, the sensation slowly subsided. My body felt warm, like I had some kind of fever, and it was difficult to sit still. Occasionally, her thumb would graze my cheek, and I would find it difficult not to make any noise.

Her hand slid up my face—

"Maylene— not the face. Not now." It had instantly become intolerable. I could see it through when it was just a finger under my chin, but it was too much, too soon.

Immediately, she took her hand off me like she was touching a hot stove. "S—sorry. I got carried away." Her face was red, and she was nearly out of breath. Her eyes were magnetic; I knew that was the gaze of someone who loved me.

She loved me; I was using her to get better, and she knew it.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"No, it's me. This is our first session, I should have taken it slow. Here, let me—" the alarm rang out from her phone, an uncomfortable blare that ripped us away from our little bubble. "Already? I—I guess it's over, then."

"Yeah." I could still feel her hand where she'd touched me. "We'll resume in… what is it, three business days?"

"Yup. Seven pm, I'll send a Kadabra to Teleport you to my Gym. We have more than one now, so you won't be bothering us."

It'd be a short stay— only an hour and a half, and we would alternate who came to who each time. The purpose of it was to teach me that having people to depend on was okay, but not always to the point where I'd be emotionally and physically stunted without them. As dad had said, going to another extreme wouldn't work. I had agreed, but now it was time to put it into practice.

Maylene and I left the bathroom and thanked Princess and Honey for keeping watch. When I saw them in front of the door, they were playing rock paper scissors— Princess somehow had gotten a bit of dirt to use as a tool to shape and play the game. At first, I thought she'd damaged the building somewhere, but she told me that she'd grabbed it from a flower pot down the hall, her face full of indignation. It was when I'd been about to recall her that Maylene's eyes turned from satisfied to alert, narrowing as she squinted at something down the hall.

Oscar, trudging down the empty corridor with his familiar swagger. Had he used his standing to get up here? Sensing ill intent, Princess' rock turned into scissors dusted by glamour to render them sharper than hardened dirt could ever get. Honey understood a few seconds later and stood a few feet in front of us, causing Oscar to innocently raise his hands as Maylene quietly used the electric type's body to hide and wrote 'I GOT THIS' in all caps below all of the notes she'd taken.

My hand ran through my daughter's fur. "Princess, no violence," I whispered to her. Her scissors dissolved, the dirt collapsing on the ground without form. A feint. I knew she'd be able to reform them within half a second if need be.

"I come with no ill intent," Oscar announced. "No need for threats."

"You being here makes me ill, so I don't know about that," Maylene said, not looking at him.

He faltered for a moment, body tensing. He hadn't been expecting that retort, had he? Just those words— his daughter standing up to him— were enough to put him off-balance. "I just came here to talk. And to apologize."

His mouth was saying these things, but his body showed that he didn't mean it. There was no regret etched on his face, just a cold, indifferent stare that betrayed nothing. As if this was just a process for him that he needed to get through to get another chance to influence Maylene. The fact that Oscar only showed feelings whenever Maylene stood up to him spoke volumes.

"My behavior as of late hasn't been great. The truth was, when I saw Sinnoh in such disrepair, I felt an urge to take back the reins—"

"I know what you're doing," Maylene said, now facing him. "So stop."

He raised an eyebrow. "Pardon me?"

"Cecilia taught me this thing called the cycle of abuse," she said. The word 'abuse' made her dad scoff.

"You think this is abuse? Wanting to speak to my daughter?" His tone rose, spreading through the hall. "My father would beat me black and blue every time we trained; you should consider yourself lucky that—"

Maylene spoke over him, aura carrying her voice. "How every time there is an incident that puts the victim out of the abuser's clutches, and they realize they won't crawl back to them with their head hung low, they swallow their pride and apologize. Promise it'll never happen again. And for a while, they stick to it. Things are better for a few weeks, and you think things will go better, but eventually, they do it all again."

Oscar's face was wrought with disbelief. He could hardly believe it. "Now you're just putting words in my mouth." Was that all he could muster? Had he expected things to go his way so much that he could barely come up with anything else?

"Maybe you don't do it consciously. I don't know. I hope so," Maylene said. "But at the end of the day, you're still doing it. I'm done with you, Oscar. And so is the Gym. Do me a favor, and please raise your new kid better. Please."

That was it. Maylene didn't wait to hear his answer, not that he had any. She asked me to follow, and I did, walking past her flabbergasted father, who had nothing to say for himself but to mutter how she'd changed and was like a different person. I recalled my Pokemon once we reached the elevators, and Maylene leaned against the wall. Her legs and hands were shaking.

"Ahhhh, I thought I was going to pass out," she lamented.

"But— what was that?" I asked. "You did it. You told him everything you wanted to say!"

She smiled, clasping her hands together so they wouldn't shake. I'd felt a need to grab them in her place, but hadn't. Not outside of our ten minutes. "I did, didn't I?" Maylene let out a long, drawn-out exhale. "Legendaries, today's been tough for my heart. I thought I was gonna have a panic attack."

"I'm so proud of you. I— he's going to take a while to recover from that one."

"I had to put my money where my mouth was, right? If I'm going to help you, then I should be able to deal with my own problems," she said. "But I only managed this after Cecilia helped me. That's an important lesson."

"What's this? You're acting like a teacher." I found my tone to be more teasing than I thought it'd be.

The Gym Leader put her hand on her hips, looking all pompous. "Well, I'm like your guru, aren't I? I've got to lead by example."

Arceus, she was so silly.

When the elevator doors opened, we found the lobby far emptier than it had been when we'd gone up. We'd spent what, an hour in that bathroom? To complete what had happened and wrap it up in a neat little bow, I brought Maylene to the exact spot she'd picked me up at to scratch the invisible itch.

"So…" she drew out the word.

I was leaning against the same wall. "So. I guess this is it for today."

"Yeah." She kicked her feet, putting her hands behind her back. "Or. How about you come and meet Nia again— actually, I'll bring her. Just her." Maylene shivered, for some reason.

Meeting Gardenia? My favorite Gym Leader who I wanted to emulate and whose battles I had watched more times than I could count? I couldn't help but burst out smiling at the idea; goosebumps ran up and down my arm and neck. Already, I was nervous at being a mess in front of her. The last time, I'd only spoken a few words with her and barely had time to interact, but now? It'd be a proper meeting. Did she even remember our battle? Legendaries, I hoped not. I'd fought it so badly and made a million mistakes. But at the same time… I hoped that she did! What if we talked about it together?

No, no, I was getting ahead of myself. I couldn't go over my assigned time with Maylene…

Well, if Gardenia was going to be here, it was probably fine if I sent dad a message about waiting a little longer. He didn't know about any of this.



The time it took for Maylene to go get Gardenia had been enough for me to start getting second thoughts. What if she thought I was weird? All she knew about me was that I'd killed a bunch of people and watched a man get tortured. Plus, given that she knew I'd been in Coronet doing something, she probably thought I'd killed more. And she would be correct. What these thoughts brought was a different kind of nervousness. Not the one I'd gotten before talking to Maylene, the familiar pit in my stomach, the gnawing, twisting tread, and the relentless thoughts that things were going to go in the worst possible direction.

Instead, my heart raced in a way that was almost painful, a rapid thudding that echoed in my ears. My palms were slick with sweat, and I found myself shifting nervously, unable to keep still. Every possible outcome of the encounter flashed through my mind. What if I stuttered, what if I said something stupid, what if Gardenia didn't like me? This anxiety was closer to excitement, akin to what I used to feel before fighting in Gym Battles.

I could see them making their way toward me, chatting about something. Like every Gym Leader, her clothes were dark and muted. A simple skirt that flowed down below her knees, nearly touching the ground, and some kind of top that was nearly a whisper against her skin, thin and see-through on the sleeves. Her heels made her look taller than she already was.

"...things are going good. Anyway, Nia, here's Grace," Maylene finished a sentence.

Oh God. Already?!

"H—hello. Nice to meet you." Was that fine? It was fine right?

Gardenia smiled. "We already met, remember? Inside Maymay's Gym."

"Nia, she means that this is like, a proper meeting," Maylene huffed. "Stop being so matter-of-fact about things!"

"Sorry, sorry," Gardenia chuckled. "You can relax, I'm not going to eat you, okay? Here, why don't we sit." She gestured at the array of couches next to us.

We each took a seat, Gardenia sitting in front of both of us with an analytical stare that made me feel like I was being disassembled. Was she looking for something? Trying to figure me out? After three seconds or so, she leaned back and crossed her legs.

"First, I want to thank you for keeping Maylene safe in Coronet, Grace," Gardenia said. "I know that she lost her team in there."

"Oh, she saved me more than I saved her. Obviously, I can't go into much detail, but I wouldn't be here without her." There was no stutter this time, so I was making progress. I couldn't shake the feeling that I sounded weird, though. "There was a mutual give and take."

She paused for a second. "You helped her with her dad, too, while we were all too busy to be there when she needed it."

"Thank you, but that was mostly Cecilia."

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't know how to take a compliment, do you?" Gardenia noticed. It wasn't an aggressive statement, just a thoughtful observation. Her tone was even warm.

"Nia! You said you'd be nice, gosh!" Maylene yelled. She hadn't noticed.

"Say, why don't you swing by my Gym sometime," Gardenia asked. I thought I'd been hearing things, and I was stuck looking at her like some dumb kid. "No? Maylene's told me about your struggle to return to normal life, and I know I'm your favorite Gym Leader. We could share a few words about battling, tactics, and the like. Plus, I can tell you all about my journey, too."

"Y—yes!" I practically screamed. "Of course I— yes!"

Gardenia continued speaking about how she'd used Volkner and Roark to lose Candice— why had they not wanted her to be here?— and I soaked it all in. I'd honestly believed that my door with Gardenia had closed forever, that it would only remain open in Virtuous' timeline, but here I was, talking to her.

Well, mostly listening and enjoying myself.

When the day had begun, I thought I'd be going back home in tears.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A., Bridie, Christopher M
 
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Chapter 328 New
Togekiss/Princess (Hustle) - Pound, Sweet Kiss, Growl, Headbutt, Fairy Wind, Ancient Power, Extrasensory, Thunder Wave, Air Cutter, Wish, Psychic, Shadow Ball, Dazzling Gleam, Moonblast, Charge Beam, Air Slash, Mystical Fire, Tri-Attack, Nasty Plot, Defog

Jellicent/Buddy (Water Absorb) - Bubblebeam, Night Shade, Absorb, Water Sport, Water Pulse, Hex, Poison Sting, Mist, Acid Armor, Shadow Ball, Recover, Brine, Whirlpool, Hydro Pump, Water Spout, Acid, Will-O-Wisp, Ice Beam, Taunt, Scald, Boil, Freeze, Protect, Ice Blade, Rain Dance, Extrasensory

Electivire/Honey (Motor Drive) - Thundershock, Swift, Electric Swift, Thunder Punch, Charge, Leer, Ice Punch, Thunderbolt, Discharge, Fire Punch, Protect, Cross Chop, Thunder, Low-Kick, Screech, Radiant Leap, Static Shield, Bulldoze, Hammer Arm, Rain Dance, Lightning Bolt

Tangrowth/Angel (Chlorophyll) - Vine Whip, Absorb, Mega Drain, Stun Spore, Bind, Poison Powder, Leech Seed, Ancient Power, Power Whip, Knock Off, Sunny Day, Giga Drain, Sleep Powder, Solar Beam, Solar Blade, Brick Break, Ingrain, Bulldoze

Tyranitar/Sweetheart (Sand Stream) - Leer, Tackle, Horn Attack, Rock Throw, Payback, Stomping Tantrum, Smack Down, Bite, Rock Slide, Crunch, Sandstorm, Iron Defense, Dragon Pulse, Iron Head, Earthbreaker, Aerial Ace, Stone Edge, Dark Pulse, Rock Polish, Surf, Earthquake

Turtonator/Sunshine (Shell Armor) - Smog, Ember, Smokescreen, Incinerate, Iron Defense, Flamethrower, Shell Trap, Dragon Pulse, Bulldoze, Scorching Sands, Rock Tomb, Body Slam, Flash Cannon, Solar Beam, Rapid Spin, Scale Shot, Iron Tail, Focus Blast, Sunny Day, Fire Pillar, Flame Charge, Heat Crash, Fire Blast

Claydol (Levitate) - Mud Slap, Rock Tomb, Rapid Spin, Harden, Confusion, Psychic, Barrier, Imprison, Wide Guard, Light Screen, Reflect, Ancient Power, Teleport

Meltan/Mimi (???) - Not a battler

CHAPTER 328

My head rested on my palm as drowsiness began to creep in, the steady drone of the teacher's voice blending with the rhythmic ticking of the clock, the frantic clicking of laptop keyboards, or the scratching of pen on paper. Below me was the book for this course dad had bought me, and I had a few notes scribbled down on a notebook about different musical symbols and whatnot. This place was pretty full for a summer class. By my count, there were twenty-two people here, all teenagers.

"Let's pause here," Ms. Arden said, her tone gentle but firm as she closed the large book of sheet music resting on the piano. The students looked up, some blinking as if emerging from a trance. "You've all done wonderfully so far. I know this can feel like learning a new language—and in many ways, it is—but you're already starting to grasp it."

She walked over to the board, where a simple staff with a few notes had been drawn. "We'll take a short break now. When we come back, we'll start putting what we've learned into exercise at the piano. But before you go," she paused, letting the silence settle, "while you're on break, I want you to think about what you've just learned. Imagine the notes, see them on the staff, and try to hear them in your mind. And it's ten minutes, not one more! If you're late, you aren't getting back in."

Ms. Arden was an interesting teacher. In her forties, shorter than me and a little puffy like a Dedenne, but stern enough to have garnered a reputation among those who'd taken her classes before. She wasn't just a really good piano player, a professional who often played at huge venues for the highest echelons of society; she also played the violin, the harp and the cello. She moved over to the whiteboard to erase some of the notes she'd taken.

Most students filtered out of the room. Some had their Pokemon with them— a boy with a Starly sleeping on his head as if it was her nest. Another with an Aipom who Ms. Aiden had forced back into his Pokeball after the normal type had sown too much chaos in class and thrown a bunch of paper balls at a girl's Kricketot who'd been just as interested in learning as she was. I would have had Angel here had he not been far too large for the classroom. He certainly would have enjoyed it. Instead, Mimi was soundly sleeping around my wrist.

I wonder what Lehmhart would have said if he'd been here. My fist clenched around the fabric of my jeans under my desk, and I held my breath until the hurt passed.

"Sheesh, it's a summer class! She should relax a little bit. You'd think we're taking exams next class." A girl to my right snickered at her own remark.

Her name was Jess. She wasn't really a friend—this was only my second class here, which was way too early for that—but I'd consider her a classroom acquaintance. She had light brown skin and super long tresses. Her parents were apparently Alolan and had come to Sinnoh this January. Usually, you heard about people moving to Alola, not from there, but at least it meant that she was totally tuned out of the trainer culture here. The main reason we'd kind of bonded was because one, she'd sat next to me and just decided to talk, and two, she had no idea who I was.

In the first day of class, numerous students had grouped around my table when I'd arrived. The most all of them could ask were questions about fame, or corny things about how they liked the way I fought because it was entertaining on TV. They were fans, so I responded as best I could, but the image they had of me was just not at all who I was. They saw me as this cool, calm and collected girl who was as brutal as possible to make sure she'd obtain victory at all costs. Only the last bit of that was true.

I assumed those who vehemently disagreed with that assessment already wanted nothing to do with me. They'd gone for someone else instead: the other acquaintance I'd made, though I hadn't paid any attention to what they'd asked.

She was—

"You're far too easygoing," Marley nearly murmured. "You're sending your laziness my way; it's contagious."

"That's how we do it back in the islands. You should try it for a change, Marles." Jess put her feet up on her table, leaned back against her chair and winked at her.

Marley was kind of the other side of the coin. Thin, the kind of pale that got sunburned by spending an hour in the sun, timid, and nearly always quiet. She was a diligent student whose pages were somehow filled with notes even though this was the second class of this summer course. I was pretty sure she was studying on her own time as well. We'd literally just begun and there was like no material we'd seen. Marley was just the kind of person to look ahead in the book before the teacher even got there.

She gave me rich girl vibes with how this was the second time she'd come here in extravagant dresses, but from what I knew, she actually lived in the rougher parts of the city and commuted here via bus. I'd never even seen her with a phone. She had short black hair parted a little to the side and seemingly always had a ribbon somewhere in there. Today's was white and on the side of her head.

"Please don't call me that." Her voice was a little deep— especially whenever she got loud. I noticed her flush in embarrassment, as she always did whenever her tone slipped. Sometimes, I'd see her open her mouth, consider saying something, but shut down with a saddened look.

She probably had a lot more to say a lot of the time, but just didn't like the sound of her own voice. Part of me wanted to call Melody to give her advice, but I just didn't know Marley that well, and I didn't know if she'd be offended or something. I'd had enough of accidentally hurting people.

"Fine. Marley," Jess enunciated the word in an obnoxious way. She probably hadn't caught it, since she didn't seem like the kind of girl to pay attention to her surroundings. "It's a cute nickname. What do you think, Graces? Oh, never mind, she's back on her phone again."

"Hm? Oh, I mean I'm just here to pass the time," I said as I scrolled through my messages.

"You're in a classroom with one of the best musicians in Jubilife, and you're here to pass the time?" Jess raised an eyebrow, holding it there for a few seconds and snorted. "You're weird."

"I mean, I do want to learn the piano—" a smile crept up my face when I saw Maylene had messaged me. She hadn't been sure if she'd be able to make it today because of work, but she had managed to finish most of what she needed to do today.

She wouldn't be picking me up or anything. She was still a Gym Leader, and it was bad optics to have her just walk the streets, having fun in public, while many people were still having a tough time in hospitals or had lost loved ones. Instead, she'd be discreetly Teleported to my apartment complex, where we would hang out for an hour and a half and practice. More complicated plans would have to wait at least another week.

"Secret boyfriend, ain't it?" Jess shot Marley a look, and my mood immediately soured. "Okay, I guess not?"

Marley cleared her throat. "You should learn to keep your mouth shut once in a while," she said, her confidence now returned. "Also, stop leaning back like that; you're going to fall."

For once, Jess listened. And when I said for once even though I'd only known this girl for one class and a half, I meant it. She was… a little annoying, if a little fun as well. Obviously, I wouldn't have stuck around if I hadn't liked her. Plus, she was kind of the glue between me and Marley. There was often this dynamic in school groups where if one person left, the others suddenly didn't know what to talk about and just shuffled there awkwardly until they returned.

I had been the victim of this too many times to count. Hell, last time when we'd just met each other, Jess had kind of decided that we were her friends now. She'd left to go to the bathroom while we'd been talking about our history with the piano after class, and it had literally happened.

"Can't stick around after class this time," I said. "I've got to do stuff."

"I get it. You trainers are always too busy for us civvies," Jess lamented with sarcasm dripping into her words. "I'll just stick around with Marley so we can bond over how we're going to practice—" I felt my heart jump at the word, "—the piano together and leave you behind in the dust while you go do whatever."

Marley shook her head as she pulled a simple spam sandwich from her backpack. "No. I have to go train, too. I've been slacking off too much lately." She began to eat at it, taking bites so small I wasn't sure she'd be done before the break ended.

I blinked. Marley was a trainer? She didn't seem like the type, but that had been my fault for judging a book by its cover. It was difficult to imagine a frail girl like her going out in the wild for days on end, but then again, my picture of what a normal Pokemon journey was like was colored by my own experiences. You could pretty easily go through Sinnoh without many problems if you knew the places to avoid and waited to go there until your team was powerful enough. And maybe she was like Erin, only going to the outskirts of her city.

Or maybe she was super famous and that was why people had swarmed around her on the first day as well. I did assume she was well-known, but not because she was a trainer. Maybe she played another instrument, or she modeled or something.

Meh. What were the odds, right? Looking at her again, she didn't finish her sandwich, instead deciding to save the other half for later.

While these two were just casual acquaintances— maybe loose friends—who most likely weren't going to last in the long run, dad had been right when he'd said this would help. My new therapist (who I had only seen once so far) had said the same thing. Sometimes, it was good to just be struggling to stay awake in class and to be bored out of your mind learning sheet music instead of actually playing the instrument I'd signed up for instead of spiraling like I had been before the ceremony.

I was still ugly inside, concealed beneath a veneer of smiles and pretenses. These people just remained blissfully unaware and looked at me like I was normal. The effort to maintain this façade was suffocating, leaving me feeling queasy as I forced myself to fit in as if I wasn't a scar etched upon the world. Maylene was the only one who could see my real self without feeling disappointment—in the case of my friends—or disgust in the case of these two girls.

And probably Cecilia.

"Are you okay, Graces?" Jess worryingly asked. "You sick? I can take you to the infirmary."

"I'm fine. Thanks."

It was going to be okay. I would see her soon.



My Hero had been waiting by my door, chatting with her Medicham. Even though this was our third session, seeing her in casual clothing was still strange. The only other time it had happened was when we'd gone to the gym—that was one of our planned sessions eventually since there was no point in not being consistent with working out. Maybe she'd wear the same clothes. Thinking back, that crop top looked really good on her. And those yoga pants... would it be fine to ask her to wear them again?

Today, Maylene wore a simple, fitted gray tank top that showed off her toned arms; baggy shorts with a deep shade of blue that hung just above her knees; well-worn sneakers with plenty of use, which was kind of charming due to the fact that I got easily attached to things too. She could have had a new pair with her Gym Leader salary, but here she was, wearing these.

Ah, but she'd seen me coming. Casually inserting myself once there was a lull in the conversation wasn't going to work.

Maylene had already been smiling at some joke Medicham must have made, but there was something different about the way she looked at me. I knew what it was, of course, but one couldn't help but notice. Denying I'd missed someone looking at me like that was a fool's errand.

"There you are," she said.

"Hey. Sorry, Ms. Arden kept rambling for an extra ten minutes." Luckily I had avoided traffic by having Princess fly me. Unfortunately, one had to follow the law, so I had to walk to the nearest landing platform first and land at the one closest to my apartment. "You two been waiting long?"

Good day, Grace! Medicham saluted and winked. Thank you again for the candy the other day.

"She ate way too much," Maylene said with a hint of disapproval. "Medi has no self-control."

Oh, Maymay, life's too short to worry about self-control, Medicham huffed. Maylene and I glanced at each other for a moment.

My keys jingled as I grabbed them out of my jeans pockets and let both girls in. The rest of Maylene's team was either still working at the Gym or helping in Snowpoint, but she liked bringing at least one Pokemon with her. The two times she had come here, that had been Medicham. The psychic was a riot; she was immature in the best ways and got on well with Princess and Honey. We both took off our shoes, but she preferred to stay barefoot whereas I had a pair of dad's slippers to use.

They were way too big for me, but they did the trick.

"Hungry?" I glanced to the right, toward the kitchen embedded in the corner of the apartment. "I can make you guys something."

Medicham beamed. She'd already jumped and claimed the couch for herself. Yes—

"Don't, it's okay. We don't want to be a bother," Maylene said.

My shoulders sagged a little as if the wind was taken out of my sails. Every time I tried offering Maylene something—like making food, lending her stuff, or even paying for takeout—she always refused or split the bill. Even the candy I'd given out had all gone to Medicham. Did she not want me to do her favors? She'd been helping me so much, making me her priority to the detriment of her own life. She'd accepted me fully and given me hope. I knew I'd said I'd be using her, but could I truly give nothing else in return?

"Hey. Stop whatever you're thinking about." Maylene turned toward me, and her hand twitched. She'd wanted to touch me. That would have been a breach of protocol. "How bad was it this time?"

"It's—uh, I thought that you might not want me to treat you. 'Cause I'm… me," I mumbled.

"Nope. I already ate before coming here; you know I track what I eat and stuff. Feeding me's a hassle because I plan all my meals ahead of time." Oh. Of course, that was it. That made sense. "Feel better now?"

"Yeah. I'm kind of stupid, huh?" Something tugged the corner of my lips.

"Kind of, or very?" she teased, her lips curving into a smug grin as she leaned in slightly, as if she was daring me to challenge her. "Come on, I have something fun for us to do today— ah, Medi, get off the couch!"

Maylene jumped on the unsuspecting Medicham, and the situation quickly turned to playfighting. Sometimes, I'd wince when it looked like Medi got a hit in that would have broken basically every bone in my body, but Maylene would just shrug it off and laugh. Hell, I was sure Medicham was holding back, but even when fooling around, Maylene was strong enough to pin her down. It looked kind of fun. Once the fighting type finished, I released Honey and Princess so that she would have company, and the Electivire zipped Mimi away from me through magnetism.

"Do you have Streamix on this?" She snatched the remote on the coffee table and turned the TV on. Dad had left the news on this morning before heading to work.

"Oh, we do. We watching a movie?" I sat on the opposite end of the couch, leaning against the armrest.

She brought up the menu and clicked on the streaming service. "Yeah. I hope that's fine? It's not new or anything, but Candice recommended it to me for us to watch. Apparently, it's horror?"

"Huh. I might know it, what's it called?" Her eyes widened a smidge in surprise. "What? Believe it or not, I'm a bit of a movie buff. I went to the cinema with my dad all the time and I watched a bunch, growing up."

"I just didn't expect that. You never brought it up."

"There was a lot going on. I guess now that routine's returning to my life, I can start watching movies again." My fingers tapped idly against my cheek. "I actually had this series about a mute trainer I was watching with…"

With Cecilia.

A heavy silence settled in, at least until Maylene broke it. "You two will manage, I'm sure of it. You've made a lot of progress, and it's only been a week!" The way she always tried to cheer me up didn't consistently work, but it made my heart feel warm. Was having someone to believe in you this powerful? I'd forgotten what it was like. "Let's just have fun today. The movie is called…" she scrolled through the options until she found the horror genre, and then through those movies as well. "There it is! The Frozen Trail!" The movie's poster was a group of five people, a Monferno and a Charmeleon, trudging through a snowstorm with large red eyes looming in the darkness behind them.

"Did you forget the name? You could have typed in the search bar and saved like 2 minutes." We only had an hour and a half together, so every second counted.

"N—no," she stumbled over her words. "Anyway, I'm pressing play—"

"Wait! If it's horror, we should get into the vibes of the genre." I quickly jumped off the couch and closed the curtains everywhere in the house. Then, I barged into my room and interrupted Medicham attempting to ride on Princess' back while Honey was on the ground, laughing and out of breath as Mimi mimicked him with a weird, high-pitched metallic whine.

Grace! Medicham clamored. I've always wanted to fly on a bird!

Princess countered, hurriedly saying that she was too important to be called a mere bird, but once Honey latched on to the word, she started getting relentlessly teased until she dropped Medicham on the ground with a huff.

"You… you three just don't break anything, alright? Have fun."

I snatched the blanket on my bed and left the room, running toward the thermostat to set it to the coldest temperature possible. The entire apartment was dark when I jumped on the couch again, with only light from the television flickering across the living room, casting shadows that danced across the walls and floor.

"The name was related to cold, so I figured I might as well." After burying myself up to my neck under the covers, I passed some to Maylene, who did the same even though she wouldn't be bothered by the cold. "You good with that?"

"Yeah!" she said. "It's kind of fun, I've never watched a movie like this."

"It's immersive, right? C'mon, press play!"

Maylene laughed, her head tilting back slightly. "Someone's excited. I hope you're good with horror." She put the movie on, and a bunch of logos flashed on the screen. "Candice usually just laughs at them while Gardenia hangs onto her for dear life. I'm happy I won't have to be a third wheel for once."

"What about you?" I asked, unable to resist my curiosity.

"Oh, me? I mean, I clear them easy peasy!"



Maylene, as it turned out, was not good with horror.

Her entire body tensed, and she instinctively curled up on the couch, drawing her knees to her chest as if making herself smaller could somehow shield her from the terror on screen.

She screamed for dear life as a Garchomp suddenly burst from under the snow. Rows upon rows of sharp teeth the size of my fingers dug into the movie's first victim, and the dragon shook their head until there was nothing left but a mutilated corpse with limbs and organs splattered across the white expanse that was northern Sinnoh. Maylene's hands flew to her face, her knuckles white as she clutched the edge of the blanket and dragged it over her eyes.

Sometimes, I'd feel her brush up against me on accident. The blanket was big enough for the both of us to share enough space, but Maylene jumping in terror every time there was tension in the movie made her move around a lot. Luckily, I was wearing jeans to shield myself from what the contact would do to me most of the time, and her hand had only touched my arm twice.

It was fine whenever it happened by accident. I wasn't going to deduct time for it if the instinctual action of responding to fear led to the contact.

The movie was real good, too. The basic plot was that a helicopter crash off-route had stranded a group of five, with their only Pokemon being a Monferno and Charmeleon which conveniently kept them warm enough not to die from the cold. I assumed the Garchomp had lived on Coronet, had made their way out of the mountain, and was now stalking their victims, killing them one at a time and leaving them alive to come to collect whenever they got hungry. They were easy prey; both Monferno and Charmeleon wouldn't be enough to fight back unless the plot pulled some strange shenanigans.

It was scary for sure, especially the tension-building scenes where you could hear subtle rumbling mixed in with the score that was actually Garchomp moving through the snow. Was there anything scarier than getting stalked by a Garchomp with no way back to civilization but your own two legs? They went really hard on the gore, and while the characters were just meh besides the obvious main couple that would survive at the end, at least the Garchomp was a real actor and not CGI. I assumed they'd actually filmed this in Snowpoint or close to it, so nearly everything was practical effects. The city and its surroundings were excellent for filming winter scenes all year round.

Garchomp, Monferno and Charmeleon. They sure must have paid their trainers a whole lot of money to get such a rare lineup of Pokemon who could actually act.

"I can't believe they'd just kill Mitch like that… we're only twenty minutes in!" Maylene complained with a lasting whine. "I thought we'd see the Garchomp first, and they'd manage to escape, at least for a while."

"Well, he was the one with the least amount of backstory and talked about his wife and kids in the opening act, he was basically condemned to die," I said, glancing at her.

The subtle glow of the TV flashed across her face, and she was already preparing herself to shield her eyes at the next jumpscare. Normally, I'd be hoping there wouldn't be that many— not because being scared wasn't fun, but because too many really cheapened the impact and kind of ruined the movie. They'd handled it perfectly here, revealing Garchomp for the first time after having left clues for attentive viewers to catch without holding their hand.

But this time, I figured I'd be kind of okay with it.

Part of me wanted to ask her to practice right now, a desperate idea that hung on the tip of my tongue. It would technically be fine because she'd be the one touching me. Plus, Gardenia and Candice did it when watching movies, and they were friends. It was normal. The issue was that I couldn't be the one to ask because that'd breach a line and go past a point I was unwilling to cross. There was this tense feeling within me, a subtle squeeze that made me conscious of every breath. A warmth bubbling within me despite the cold temperatures that had spread throughout the apartment.

It wasn't a bad feeling.

The movie finished with a runtime of one hour and ten minutes with my expectations completely subverted. The main couple who I thought would live actually died, along with every human in the movie, leaving only Monferno and Charmeleon alive for the last forty percent of the film as they desperately clung to life, the flame on their tails dimming as the movie went on. As it turned out, they'd been the two main characters all along, and their scenes were devoid of any dialogue or subtitles, meaning people had to use body language and guess what they were telling each other. Even I couldn't understand, since my empathy didn't work through screens.

It was extremely enjoyable to watch, even if only Monferno survived Garchomp's onslaught in the end thanks to Charmeleon's sacrifice. He'd evolved into a CGI Charizard and bought just enough time for Monferno to jump into a half-frozen river that washed him up in Snowpoint with only a broken arm, leg, and hypothermia.

"That was fun!" I said as the credits rolled. "Honestly, one of the best horrors I've watched recently. I wonder if Candice watched and recc'ed it because it was a locally-made movie. What'd you think—"

Ah.

She was crying. Not full-on tears, but her eyes were wet and she sniffled as she dragged herself out of the covers and wiped her eyes. "That was depressing. Good, but depressing."

I sighed. "Right."

I understood her. It was the kind of movie I'd usually cry at, but it just hadn't… made me feel as strongly. Yes, I was sad, and yes, I'd gotten scared, but maybe movies were just that, now. Movies. Fake. The veneer of reality one could pretend was there when watching just hadn't hit me at all. Nothing had immersed me enough to make me think 'these are people, not actors.'

"I really thought they'd escape together. Why did Candice recommend this? It completely killed the vibe…" Maylene grabbed her phone to check the time, and then I almost thought she'd start texting Candice before she put it away. "I bet she was laughing when she texted me about it! She knew it'd make me cry!"

"Maybe she thought you'd enjoy it anyway, right?" I scooted myself a little toward her. "It was good. That scene where Garchomp destroyed their camp and bit off that guy's leg and he had to bleed out for miles over the snow? It's so good!"

Maylene rolled her eyes. "You'd get on well with her for any horror flicks."

"Probably, but watching with you was… cool; your reactions were fun." I found myself tightening the covers around me. "I wish we could do this more often. Hanging out."

She gave me a knowing smile. "You know we can't. It has to be other people pulling you up, not just me," she explained as she had numerous times. "If I'm your answer for everything, then I'm just turning into your new Cecilia. Without the dating part," she was thankfully quick to add.

"I know. I'm the one who actually has to swim to shore; you're just keeping me from drowning."

She snapped her fingers. "Exactly! God, you're good with analogies."

I was bummed to hear it, but her knowing when to stop was a good thing. I was horrible at self-control while she actually enforced the limits. That was what I needed. While Maylene went to readjust the thermostat, I opened the curtains again and went to check on our Pokemon. Medicham, as Princess explained it, had enjoyed the cold so much she'd started napping after stealing my bed. The Togekiss and her brother had started taking bets on what they could do without Medicham waking up, which, as it turned out, was a lot. I assumed Honey was the one who had squiggled the lines on her face with permanent marker while Princess had been in the midst of tickling her nose with the tip of her wing just as I'd walked in. Mimi had been staring out my window with a fascinated look and looking at Jubilife's afternoon life passing them by.

I apologized to Maylene for their behavior when she walked in behind me, but she didn't seem to mind. Even Medicham took it all in good fun and enjoyed having stars drawn around her eyes.

"You guys can take the living room," Maylene said. "Grace and I are gonna use the room for a bit."

All three Pokemon slowly walked out— I rubbed Princess' head and Honey's arm when they did— and Mimi remained transfixed by the city. Maylene closed the door behind them. My throat felt dry when she turned toward me. Her mouth opened, and she asked in a whisper that carried across my bedroom and tickled my ears:

"We have enough time; want to practice today?"



Practice was odd.

During our second session after the first in the bathroom, Maylene had backed off due to the reaction I'd had when she had tried touching my face and done my wrist instead. It was a gesture I appreciated greatly; it'd be better to slowly ramp up instead of jumping to the most extreme options right away. The problem was that while I was always anxious before it happened, and the start was always unpleasant, making me fight my instincts to not pull away out of fear of sullying Maylene, part of me couldn't help but look forward to it.

It was in moments like these, right before we began, that the tension was at its highest— so thick I struggled to take anything but shallow breaths, and I had to stay focused by biting my lip. Maylene loomed in front of me, face slightly red and looking right into my eyes. Where was she going to do it today? The hand? Maybe my shoulder? My thighs? No, she couldn't— I was wearing jeans. Or could she, anyway? What if she asked me? My mind raced at every possibility as I pressed myself back against the wall and gripped the side of my desk with a slick palm. She was kind of cornering me, yet I could barely look away; I was caught in the intensity of her gaze.

"Are you ready?" she asked, slightly breathless. She was nervous just like I was, something that reassured me slightly. "Remember the safe word."

My head bobbed up and down without my doing; I was in no state of mind to speak right now. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw both of her hands moving in unison toward my waist. They slipped under the hem of my shirt—

My entire body shivered, knocking over a cup full of pens and pencils all over my desk and floor. It was as if a jolt of electricity surged through me, setting my body alight. I could literally feel my heartbeat in my ears. Maylene stopped, waiting to see if I'd say anything to stop her, but I didn't. Instead, I held strong as she moved deeper under my shirt up my waist and then kept her hands firmly in place. It had to be skin-on-skin, or it didn't count. The treatment was obviously working. The period of time it took for it to go from me worrying about Maylene's safety to whatever this feeling was grew tinier and tinier, and today was no exception. To her credit, Maylene stayed very professional. She kept far enough away from me to need to have her arms fully extended to touch me, and…

"Is this good?" she softly asked.

Maylene squeezed a little harder, and I forgot what I'd just been thinking about. Her fingers traced lightly along my waist, their warmth seeping into my skin. I could feel her other hand draw contours along the edges of my scars. There was no way the thermostat had already adjusted the temperature enough for me to sweat, yet I was anyway. An unknown amount of minutes passed when a dangerous little thought wandered into my head as Maylene's hands snaked further behind me and onto my back, meaning she had needed to get a smidge closer.

Was I enjoying this?

I was. There was something freeing about being so vulnerable with her; something freeing about showing her all of me, countless flaws included, and yet still having her look at me like this. Like I still deserved to be loved. Touch me like I still deserved to be touched and wasn't poisonous. Was it okay to like this? Did it go too far? I'd enjoyed my therapy with Aliyah and looked forward to speaking with her; wasn't this just another form of therapy?

Maylene was close enough for her hands to touch behind me, now, and finally, I found myself looking away from her intense gaze. She let out a little sound, almost demanding, to tell me to keep staring so I could keep my confidence, and it was impossible for me to consider not locking eyes again. The ends of her breath tickled my face—

The alarm rang in her pocket.

"Annnd, done," she sighed.

Immediately, her warmth left me, leaving only traces. Imprints of purity where her fingers and palms had sunk into my skin to fix me. Soon, it'd be as if it had never been there in the first place. I could see the darkness lurking on her fingers, palms and forearms. They were already fading; they always went quicker, these days. The ten minutes did as well; I couldn't believe that was it, already. My legs were numb. I used the last of my energy to shuffle over to my bed and fell on top of it as if I'd just ran a marathon.

"You did good today," Maylene said behind me. "You nearly looked at me the entire time and everything; good job. I'm proud of you." My stomach fluttered. "You thirsty? I'm feeling a bit thirsty." She glanced at the door. "I can get you some water."

"Yes, please." I stared down again so I wouldn't see her, and my voice was muffled through my pillow.

I heard her open the door, letting in our Pokemon's chatter, but I was too out of it to focus. My head was spinning. Surprisingly, she closed it behind her, and for a moment, there were no steps. It was like a bucket of cold water dropped on my head. Had I fucked up in some way? Made a sound that had creeped her out during practice? I—I needed to fix this. I—

It must have taken nearly ten seconds for her to start walking toward the kitchen. Hearing her move soothed my nerves enough to stay seated on the bed instead of barging out there in a panic and apologizing for whatever it was that I did wrong. Maylene came back with two glasses of tap water, though she'd already been drinking from hers. My hands pressed against the cool glass to center myself, and I took a sip of water.

"Thanks for helping, as always," I said now that I was well enough to speak. "What time is it? How long do you have left?"

After downing her glass, Maylene started picking up my knocked-down pen and pencils. "I took a look at the time in the living room. We've got thirteen minutes left, but I think I'm gonna head out early."

My body froze; the glass nearly slipped out of my hands. "Was it something I did, or…?" I asked, unsure of myself.

Maylene smiled. "Good. You asked this time instead of thinking the worst all on your own." She finished putting the cup upright and looked at me like someone would a wounded child. Full of care and a desire to help. "No, it was nothing you did, but I think it'd be good for you. Sometimes, things happen, and people have to leave early, y'know? It'd be good for you to learn. Better to get you used to it; it's just thirteen minutes. Less, now."

"That's fair." I stood up to see her out. "Thanks for swinging by. Kadabra gonna pick you up?"

"...I guess I'll have to stand in front of the door until he does," she slowly realized, hand drifting up to her forehead. "No talking to me, though. Sorry. Oh, and by the way, I was thinking."

"Hm?"

Unwilling to leave them unattended, I scooped up Mimi in my hands before we left my bedroom.

"You know how I told you that you should have other people to practice with?" she asked. Right. I hadn't even told anyone about this problem yet since I'd been hoping it would go away just with Maylene's help. "Since you haven't really gotten started on that, I figured that the session after the next one should be done by someone other than me."

I could only muster a weak "yeah," however my displeasure must have shown on my face even though I knew she was right.

"I know it's gonna be tough." She grabbed my hand and squeezed—

We both immediately pulled away. She had forgotten that wasn't supposed to happen.

"Shit. Sorry." Her expression looked uneasy rather than apologetic. Like she was unsettled she had actually fucked up. "Um, as I was saying, it's going to be hard; I know you're in a bad place right now. But I'm giving you a session's warning in advance so it doesn't feel like the world's falling underneath you. This has nothing to do with anything you did or what I feel, okay? It's just better this way, yeah?"

"No, no, I get it." I did get it. But how could she make me feel these weird things and then tell me I had to get it from someone else? How was that fair?

Maylene's hands touched one another, as if she needed a distraction. "You look like it hurts a lot, though."

"I'm sorry. I'm trying, and it's genuinely gotten a lot easier since we talked at the ceremony. Thanks for sticking with me, still." It was difficult to believe that she was still here helping me after all of this. That she still loved me. Yet I knew she did. "So… see you in four days at eight pm?" I'd memorized the schedule, so there was no need to check my phone."Don't forget, it's in Twinleaf."

"It's gonna be tough finding a Kadabra who's been there," Maylene jokingly complained. "I'll figure it out, though." She turned toward the living room. "Medi! Time to go!"

After Medicham told my Pokemon her goodbyes, Maylene and I stood there awkwardly for a few moments. This always happened when one of us had to leave; we kind of didn't know how to do it without feeling like something was off. This time around, it ended with two stiff nods and a wave on my part. The door closed, and I waited in the living room, glancing at the clock occasionally as I caught up with Honey and Princess' games and what I'd missed with Medicham.

It seemed a little more difficult to do things now that Maylene was gone, and I had a few hours until dad came back home. Honey poked my shoulder and asked what we were going to do now, and I smiled at him.

"Guess it's time to wash you guys. You haven't taken baths in a while."

Princess immediately screamed at her sibling for getting her into this mess, which reminded me of some kids' reactions to the people who'd tell teachers they'd forgotten to check if the class had done their homework. To make herself feel better, she threw Sunshine under the bus and demanded he be subject to this 'torture.'

Honestly, she just hated getting wet because it made her lose all of her volume, and it exposed how skinny she was to the world. She sure looked a lot less majestic that way.

"Don't worry, Sunshine's gonna get his share too!" I laughed. Yeah, he'd just gotten out of the Center and didn't really need his scales cleaned, but it'd be fun to bond. "Then we'll go out."

This time, it was Mimi who chimed excitedly, though the other two were also intrigued.

"I don't know where yet. But… maybe we can go train again, yeah?"



It was always difficult for Maylene to go to work as if nothing had happened after spending time with Grace. Her mind would always be weighed down by guilt, as if leaving Grace behind was somehow wrong, even though she knew it was for the best. There was something in the way Grace looked up at her, a look so vulnerable, as if her entire world would crumble if Maylene walked out that door. It was a gaze that tugged at her heart, making her want to stay just a little longer, no matter how many responsibilities awaited her.

Those eyes were almost hypnotic, and in that moment, Maylene could fully grasp what Cecilia had gone through. It wasn't just a look; it was a silent plea, a tender vulnerability that was impossible to turn away from—especially when you loved her. That was why Maylene had grabbed her hand on accident. She'd wanted nothing more but to call Grace a good girl for reassurance and to tell her she'd stay until her father came home from work in exchange for having other people practice with her as if that would be some kind of compromise and not just giving in to her.

And it would probably feel really good. Giving in to her. For a while, at least, until it inevitably blew up.

Saying no felt like a betrayal, a cruelty she wasn't sure she could ever inflict until Maylene stood there for long enough, snapped out of her trance, and remembered this was for Grace's own good.

Now, it was back to work.

Luckily for her, she'd finished helping the 7th badge Pokemon train today in hopes of pushing more of them to be usable for 8th badge battles. As Veilstone was the first Gym reopened, and they took more and more trainers every day, Maylene expected the Gym wouldn't have enough to tackle the flurry of 7 badgers hoping to make it to the Conference who had saved her for their 8th badge in hopes of getting an easier fight. Now, all she'd need to do for the rest of the day was refresh her email, look into getting some new fighting types in Maniac Tunnel tomorrow, and harass the League for more money to pay all of her employees on time this Friday.

It was boring, idle work, but that was also part of a Gym Leader's duties and could be enjoyable if you saw it as taking care of your community. Any distraction was better than reminiscing about today's practice. If Maylene thought about it too much, she wouldn't be able to even read right.

She was mildly melancholic that other people would have to be involved soon. It was for Grace's well-being, but practice was… it was their thing. Maylene would be sad to see less and less of it as the weeks went on. For their next session in Twinleaf, she'd have to make her ten minutes count.

It was okay to be a little selfish, right?

A subtle vibration from her phone on her desk snapped her out of her thoughts. Luckily, it wasn't Grace relapsing—they weren't supposed to contact each other outside of emergencies (if Grace was getting really bad thoughts; she had revealed her history of self-harm), set hours or to facilitate meetings for their sessions—it was Candice. Reading her name on her screen usually would have made Maylene smile, but the ice type Gym Leader had been relentless in getting 'updates' on what was happening between Maylene and Grace this past week.

Maylene was somewhat to blame. She'd kept telling her about some things to cheer her up, even more than Gardenia sometimes. Maylene had obviously respected Grace's wishes and not told them how deep their bond went; all they knew was that they'd 'mended' things at the ceremony and were now sometimes hanging out and talking, but less than they had before.

Maylene exhaled before answering. "Candice. Aren't you supposed to be meeting with some—"

"Yes! The Kanto-Johto reps to assign them to different jobs to help fix up the port. I finished all of that already!" she yelled so loudly it was as if she was trying to eat her phone. She was surprised it had gone that quickly, but despite how Candice acted, Maylene knew she wasn't the kind of person to not take her duties seriously when she couldn't afford to. "How'd it go with Grace? Did she enjoy the movie?"

"Why'd you give us a movie like that, anyway?" Maylene asked, dodging the question. "I thought it was gonna be a cheesy kind of horror, not 'ruin your day' horror."

Candice snickered. "You don't know what it's like to rizz someone, my dear apprentice. First of all, Grace loves movies—"

"You knew that?!"

"—and I figured you'd jump in her arms, or she'd comfort you while you were crying or something," Candice spoke over her. "Second of all, it's also just a great movie?! Like, hello?! Real boon for the Snowpoint movie industry these past few years! We're no Pokestar Studio, but I'm hoping to get there in my tenure!"

Maylene sighed as she forwarded an email to Sunyshore's Gym about some issue about a reported herd of Ponyta arriving from off-route onto route 214 within the next week or so. It was a situation the Rangers would most likely deal with, but they were better safe than sorry. Just knowing wouldn't hurt, and Sunyshore trainers were so coddled a few might do something stupid in hopes of getting their hands on a new fire type and get burned.

"She did like the movie," Maylene admitted. "Really like it. Thanks for the suggestion." Most of her commentary had been about the technical aspects of scenes or the themes behind the story, though. A little funny to hear when someone's body was being shredded by a Garchomp's teeth. It was endearing in a way, and nice to listen to her talk about something normally and not berate herself for just existing. Maylene was sure she would have paid more attention if she hadn't been fighting for her life. "Since I have you here, I want to talk to you about something."

"Sure thing, Maymay. Shoot."

Her fingers traced the edge of her laptop. "I… I don't think you should keep pushing this narrative about Grace and me becoming a thing. It's not happening."

Sure, Grace and Cecilia were temporarily broken up, but the temporary was the important bit. The thought of it being final terrified Grace constantly to the point that she'd vent about maybe not being good enough even when she was 'fixed.' Her intention was to get back with Cecilia eventually, and Maylene encouraged that. Sometimes, especially during practice, Grace would look at her in ways that gave her ideas that maybe, just maybe, there'd be a chance if Maylene pushed for it. If she just leaned in and took her lips right then and there. But she didn't want to be a homewrecker. She wasn't doing this to take advantage of two broken girls, and so far, she'd found restraining herself from going that far to be easy.

"If you want me to, I'll stop," Candice finally said. "But it's giving a little bit of mixed signals, yeah? You're literally having dates with this girl every few days, and her girlfriend's nowhere to be seen. She helped you a lot with Oscar, right? And the three of you talked and spent a decent amount of time together. Aren't you practicing to show her different colors of aura? I honestly thought something had happened here, like a big ole pile of lesbians. You never did that for me when I asked you."

"S—slow down. You asked me that out of curiosity, and you say a bunch of unserious stuff all the time!" Maylene fought back. "And yes, she was the main reason I stood up to him back at the ceremony," Maylene said with a slight smile. "Cecilia's just busy, at the moment. She's reconnecting with her team on her own." That was the official narrative Maylene was going for, at least.

"Well, if you want to lie to your dear friend Candice, I'll let you off the hook for now, missus," she spoke with a huff. "I'll stop bringing it up. Just… if what you're saying is true and nothing's changed in their relationship, then you ought to back off, right? Like I know I joke around a lot and stuff, but…"

Maylene felt a pit form in her stomach. "It's not what you think, okay? There's—there's a reason for all of this; I just can't get into it; it isn't my place. If she's ever fine with me saying this stuff, then I'll tell you, 'kay?"

Maylene hoped her friends wouldn't think she was a bad person because of a misunderstanding. If it came to that, she'd have to ask Grace to tell them again. Grace was really worrying about their reactions for nothing. They didn't have to go in-depth; they'd just have to briefly mention the break, the co-dependency issues, and their practice sessions. Then, they would understand easily.

Candice let out a long, curious hum with a hint of suspicion. "Just don't get hurt, and try to not hurt others, okay?"

Maylene couldn't muster a verbal response. "Mhm."



There were plenty of areas to train in Jubilife. Hundreds upon hundreds of arenas to make use of, filled to the brim with hobbyists and professional trainers alike. Sometimes, they'd hold tournaments that dad used to bring me to, and I remembered being so excited to see them— as if my eyes were so transfixed on each fight I barely remembered to blink— until I held Princess in my arms for the first time and I pictured her in that situation, taking hit after hit until she was a bloodied heap on the ground with her Togepi egg fractured to pieces.

Times changed, and quickly. One year after that, Princess would be fighting her first battle against a trainer with a Shinx south of the city. The feeling of ecstasy after a win was one I hadn't felt in a long while. Not when all of my recent fights had been to kill people, most of them just because they were in my way. I hadn't come here to fight anyone yet. The odds of finding someone who'd give me a good battle here were basically zero, given that anyone with eight badges would probably rather hide what they were developing for the delayed Conference.

Instead, I'd come here to watch young trainers give it all they got on battles with no stakes to remember what that was like. The thrill of a fight; the way your body felt so electric when one of your tactics paid off, and you could just bask in the moment; how you forgot that the world around you as it bled away, and you forgot anything else existed and could only see the stretch of arena ahead of you and nothing else.

The results were… mixed. Not because the battles were boring, or anything—Sunshine and I were currently watching a girl's Staravia lose to another teen's insanely skilled Venonat, who would leave clusters of Rage Powder to lead Staravia astray. I was pretty sure the bug was somehow combining this with a form of Confuse Ray to make the Staravia see things, given how it was throwing Air Cutters at nothing while his trainer constantly yelled at him in an attempt to aim toward Venonat while Psybeams constantly attempted to shoot him out of the sky. It was kind of a baby's first illusion, which would be incredible given that both these kids had three badges.

I did still get excited when I saw things like that. People finding different ways to use moves, or how no two Pokemon fought the same. For example, this girl's Staravia; he was obviously newly evolved, by the awkward way he sometimes overshot the distance he planned to fly or struggled to stop. That meant that his trainer mostly relied on moves at a distance out of fear he'd mess up. Things like Air Cutter, Gust, or Whirlwind. The issue was that he'd spread the Rage Powder all over the arena due to this, but I assumed his trainer thought she'd be able to make quick work of a Venonat before it became an issue. She had been wrong.

Anyway.

I'd seen another Staravia fight earlier (the species was one of the most popular flying types a Sinnohan trainer could have), and that Pokemon had been turned into a complete berserker whose only goal was to get as many hits in by getting up close and personal. If that wasn't enough, Endeavor would do the trick, and I assumed it often turned a loss into a one-to-one trade if it caught opponents off-guard. The move was one of the relatively easy to learn but much more difficult to master, yet that trainer had put all of his time into it and defied the odds.

There was beauty in that. How people and Pokemon's way of fighting was so shaped by their experiences that none of them were the same. Sometimes similar, maybe, but never the same. Sunshine snorted when Staravia was finally brought down by a final Psybeam, and I nudged his arm to tell him to be respectful in public, at least. His scales were so clean and smooth they were nearly shiny, something he didn't like. According to him, it made him appear weaker because it looked like he didn't regularly fight. Like some kind of 'pet' Pokemon.

His words, not mine.

It had been easy to settle back into a rhythm with him, and he didn't care much about any of my relationship drama besides the fact that it made me feel bad and slow down. He'd told me that I should focus on fighting instead of all these childish impulses, and it was at times like these that I remembered he was a bitter old dragon who'd only known violence and fighting for over seventy years. One couldn't just ignore what they were feeling by throwing themselves into something else and giving up everything else, or at least it wasn't sustainable.

I still loved him dearly, though. And I knew this was a partnership, and he wouldn't want to stay idle. Not just him, either. Nearly all of my Pokemon were eager to get back into the groove of training again but just hadn't said anything because they hadn't wanted to distress me. He was just the only one who didn't care about being blunt, and unlike Sweetheart, Buddy couldn't rein in his words.

The dragon asked me if I had gotten what I wanted by coming here, which mainly was inspiration. My notebook was full of ideas scribbled down in the last week or so, but none of them had clicked like the ones I'd come up with before Coronet. Like Vine Terrain, the different ways to utilize Night Shade, or Dark Sandstorm. The closest I'd gotten back to that feeling were concepts for Princess' cutting moves, but that was far off.

"Not really; it was fun, though. I actually have something I want to talk to you about regarding training."

He perked up at the notion, shell brightening a smidge. The glow made a few people behind him give him a wide berth. At the side of the battlefield, the two trainers we'd been looking at shook each other's hands, and the girl bitterly handed her opponent a few thousand Pokedollars. Must have been a high-stakes match.

I sighed. "Let's head out."

Unfortunately, Sunshine was one of those Pokemon not exactly allowed on most streets of Jubilife, so he'd have to make do with waiting in his Pokeball for now. Princess and I would be flying down south for this one, close to where Angel had first unveiled his Vine Terrain at full force. He actually was one I also wanted to speak to regarding training as well.

The thing about flying was that you saw so much more of the world, spread out below you, and that sometimes included spotting intriguing events. Like a gathering of dark clouds above a slightly wooded area followed by a flurry of bolts of lightning slamming into the ground below. The sound hit me a few seconds later, and I soothed Princess by rubbing a hand on her head. It wasn't the first time we spotted an attack like this from above, but it was certainly the largest of its kind. Was some big-shot training in our spot? That looked like something someone with eight badges would come up with, especially if it was sustainable. I was a little anxious about the woods catching on fire, though I suspect I used that as an excuse to go check out who this was. Any trainer this powerful knew to not damage the area they were in too much whenever they trained. They drilled that into you in school, and if you got caught, you'd get a hefty fine depending on how much land you ruined and what the Rangers had to do to fix it. Already, I noticed someone in uniform on a Tropius keeping watch of the area.

A thick barrier appeared around Princess as she waited for an opening to dive down. When she did, I found a familiar face among a clearing. Marley from piano class with an Electrode brimming with energy, the electricity around her pulsating like a beating heart. A Floatzel was a few hundred feet away, extinguishing the few fires that had appeared before they could damage the woods. The air still smelled like ozone and tickled my nostrils.

Marley from piano class…

Marley from piano class?! Again, the technique on that Electrode was definitely some high-level stuff! The electric type looked a little exhausted, heaving for every breath as she subtly rolled back and forth. The storm above us ended, and Marley's eyes narrowed until she was glaring at me.

"Are you spying on me?" she asked. What? She was the one who was in my spot— "Damn it, I knew I should have waited to train at night." Electrode sneered at me, her species' familiar smile nowhere to be seen, and she asked her trainer what they should do.

I swallowed, forcing myself not to go for my Pokeballs, and I kept petting Princess as I whispered to her to relax. That we were safe, that they didn't mean that they'd kill us; no one who was normal thought like that. Floatzel was… hiding behind one of the trees. Not very well, given that I could see his anxiety-ridden tail writhe around.

"I'm… sorry?" I hesitantly said. "I'm not here to spy; I came here to train with my team. I usually swing around here whenever I'm in Jubilife, and I've never seen you."

Marley huffed, turning her head away—she'd been looking at my Togekiss. "Train? How many badges do you even have?"

Did she really not know? How offline was she? Was it possible to be even more offline than I was? I'd never seen her with a phone, and I could see the edge of a rolled-up paper map past her backpack's zipper like this was the 90s or some other ancient time.

"Seven." Her eyes widened slightly when I answered as if she was surprised a trainer of my caliber was just hanging out in her piano class. That was my line. "Like I said, I didn't come here to spy on you," I continued and took a step forward. "I wanted to talk to my team and come up with some new stuff."

"Uhuh," she said, clearly not believing me.

"Your Electrode sure packs a punch, though," I added. If her Pokemon were this strong, why did she save food and live in the worst part of Jubilife? She could be rich if she wanted. "What's that move called? Is it, like, an ultimate technique?" Maybe something like Vine Terrain was for Angel? "It's a sustained thunderstorm that just keeps hitting with continuous Thunderbolts all over the field, right? I assume they hone in on your opponent, too. It's pretty sweet, especially since it's scaleable with Thunder and eventually even Zap Cannon. Hard to imagine so many of those, though. You might melt any battlefield off."

Her arms shot straight down to her sides, fists clenching so tightly that her knuckles turned whiter than they already were. "You said you didn't come to spy on me, but you fish around for what move that was?!" Her voice turned deep again when she yelled, and her hands covered her mouth. "Ugh. Whatever," Marley muttered. "I'll leave you this area. I thought the fact that it was nearly off the route and the giant thunderstorm would be enough not to come across anyone, but clearly, I was wrong."

"Wait! Do you have a phone number or something? We should train together; this is like, the perfect opportunity!" I asked as she recalled her Electrode and Floatzel (by aiming at his tail), then released an Arcanine. Her fur gleamed in the sunlight like a coat of molten gold, and I could see the dense muscle beneath it. She was far bulkier than Justin's. You'd think she was part fighting type.

The fire type immediately rolled on her back, paws up in the air and tongue hanging from her mouth as she demanded pets. "Arcanine, not now. You're embarrassing me in front of a potential opponent…"

Princess and I just blinked at her, not knowing what to say. Eventually, Arcanine got the idea, and Marley climbed up on her back, face red in embarrassment and anger. "Don't tell this to anyone. Especially not Jess!" Her voice got a little louder just then. "Act like none of this happened in class."

She touched Arcanine's neck twice, and the fire type began to run at a trot, slowly speeding up until she became nothing but a smear of red and gold against the world. I sighed as I released the rest of my team.

So much for a training partner.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A., Bridie, Christopher M
 
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Chapter 329 New
Togekiss/Princess (Hustle) - Pound, Sweet Kiss, Growl, Headbutt, Fairy Wind, Ancient Power, Extrasensory, Thunder Wave, Air Cutter, Wish, Psychic, Shadow Ball, Dazzling Gleam, Moonblast, Charge Beam, Air Slash, Mystical Fire, Tri-Attack, Nasty Plot, Defog

Jellicent/Buddy (Water Absorb) - Bubblebeam, Night Shade, Absorb, Water Sport, Water Pulse, Hex, Poison Sting, Mist, Acid Armor, Shadow Ball, Recover, Brine, Whirlpool, Hydro Pump, Water Spout, Acid, Will-O-Wisp, Ice Beam, Taunt, Scald, Boil, Freeze, Protect, Ice Blade, Rain Dance, Extrasensory

Electivire/Honey (Motor Drive) - Thundershock, Swift, Electric Swift, Thunder Punch, Charge, Leer, Ice Punch, Thunderbolt, Discharge, Fire Punch, Protect, Cross Chop, Thunder, Low-Kick, Screech, Radiant Leap, Static Shield, Bulldoze, Hammer Arm, Rain Dance, Lightning Bolt

Tangrowth/Angel (Chlorophyll) - Vine Whip, Absorb, Mega Drain, Stun Spore, Bind, Poison Powder, Leech Seed, Ancient Power, Power Whip, Knock Off, Sunny Day, Giga Drain, Sleep Powder, Solar Beam, Solar Blade, Brick Break, Ingrain, Bulldoze

Tyranitar/Sweetheart (Sand Stream) - Leer, Tackle, Horn Attack, Rock Throw, Payback, Stomping Tantrum, Smack Down, Bite, Rock Slide, Crunch, Sandstorm, Iron Defense, Dragon Pulse, Iron Head, Earthbreaker, Aerial Ace, Stone Edge, Dark Pulse, Rock Polish, Surf, Earthquake

Turtonator/Sunshine (Shell Armor) - Smog, Ember, Smokescreen, Incinerate, Iron Defense, Flamethrower, Shell Trap, Dragon Pulse, Bulldoze, Scorching Sands, Rock Tomb, Body Slam, Flash Cannon, Solar Beam, Rapid Spin, Scale Shot, Iron Tail, Focus Blast, Sunny Day, Fire Pillar, Flame Charge, Heat Crash, Fire Blast

Claydol (Levitate) - Mud Slap, Rock Tomb, Rapid Spin, Harden, Confusion, Psychic, Barrier, Imprison, Wide Guard, Light Screen, Reflect, Ancient Power, Teleport

Meltan/Mimi (???) - Not a battler

CHAPTER 329

Every time I flew over Twinleaf, I couldn't help but notice how empty it really was. A few hundred inhabitants at most, one building that acted as pre, primary, middle, and high school, a single grocery store—local and not one of the big chains you saw everywhere else—and houses so spread out you'd think people hated each other. I pressed down on Princess' fur, almost a reflexive motion to soothe my nerves. Things had gone well with dad. We weren't back like old times, but all of the tension had gone away and relaxing around him was easy. The same couldn't be said with my mother, considering I hadn't seen her since leaving the League. We'd texted some, but that was different than talking face-to-face. I had no idea how things would go or how she would react to having a Gym Leader in her house for two hours.

At least Denzel's parents weren't here, and while this was morbid to say, my grandmother wouldn't be able to make snide comments every five minutes any longer now that she was gone. I wouldn't go as far as to say that it was good that she died, never that. That would have been the old me. But I wasn't going to lie to myself and say that I'd be grieving in any way, shape, or form like mom had. I hadn't even gone to the funeral.

Leaning in close to Princess' ear, I whispered, "remember which house is hers?" Mom hadn't yet inherited the house, but I was calling it hers anyway. The legal process to do so was really slow and would take months, according to the texts she complained in. Something about the people in Sandgem taking their sweet time getting here.

Princess heartily nodded, zipping past the world at increasing speeds. Part of me wanted to tell her to go as fast as possible, but I wasn't wearing my goggles, at the moment, so I wouldn't be able to enjoy the earth below just becoming one big blend of smeared colors. She circled around Twinleaf until she reached the southern tip of the town, which, according to Denzel, had once been where Lucas, Dawn and Barry used to live. Ours was just a little ways off, green-roofed with a modest stone chimney for winters and walls made of smooth wood paneling, both of which bore the marks of weathering from being an old structure.

According to Buddy, Twinleaf had been originally founded as some sort of summer retreat for rich people from Sandgem and Jubilife, built to get away from the high paced culture of life that dominated those two cities. You could see how it'd make sense. It got apparently hot down here during the summer because it was far inland enough not to be a coastal town. It was over thirty degrees Celsius today, which was basically heat wave territory. The area was dominated by a small lake that led to the ocean to the south, with a small wooden pier and a few tiny boats docked to it. The location had fallen out of favor and stopped growing after a while, but some of the descendants of these rich men and women had stuck behind, leaving the Twinleaf of the present.

While history was no passion of mine, it was nice to learn about my country. It was important to know the context of why things were the way they were, and it was just another hobby that could stop me from being co-dependent with anyone else.

Princess landed in front of our house with a dull, nearly silent thud, and my legs swept above her as I unstrapped myself and jumped off. For a while, I stood there all nervous, imagining that maybe I wouldn't be able to touch my mom, and she'd look at me like I was some sort of failed product. I pictured Maylene calling me stupid with that smug, frustrating yet delightful smile of hers, and I managed to gather the courage to walk up to the front door. There was no doorbell, so my knuckles rasped against the wooden door.

There was a muffled bark behind the door warning that I was here, and a familiar voice saying she was on her way. Mom's steps grew closer behind the door until she was right there and opened it, and right when she looked at me, blue eyes full of love and care, I was sure I'd been worrying for nothing. I was going to stay here the whole week-end, so being able to withstand being with her would be a blessing—

Mom snatched me in her arms, making me seize up in fear of tainting her, but just like dad, there was no darkness seeping into her. With a relieved sigh, I wrapped my arms around her as Herdier greeted me by licking my leg. I couldn't figure out why there was nothing. Part of me wanted to think it was because they were my parents, the people who had made me using half of themselves and allowed me to flourish. Maybe I just knew part of them would love me no matter what happened, but Maylene had said—no, she hadn't said that, but she'd basically implied it. Did I just not believe her, deep down? Or did I just think I'd taint her but not my parents? Or maybe the treatment with Maylene was just working that well, but considering dad had touched me before we'd begun, that didn't make much sense.

No matter what the answer was, one thing was for sure: my brain was weird.

"How are you, sweetie?" She grabbed me by the shoulders to get a good look at me. "Legendaries, I missed you."

"Missed you too." Was I tearing up? Maybe a little. "I've been getting better slowly; I found a system that really worked for me, so…"

"That's great! I'm glad the classes and therapy are going so well." Mom beamed and dragged me inside. "Come in, come in, I baked a key lime pie for you!"

While Princess squeezed past the doorway, her fur easily bending to let her through, I crouched and pet Herdier behind the ear. "How are you, little man?" I smiled at him, and he jumped on my knees to lick my face, saying he was so happy to see me again. "I'm happy too, okay? Come on, let's hang out."

For a while, I spent some time chatting with Mom and Herdier about piano lessons, telling her about Jess and Marley. The latter had acted like nothing had happened last class, and not wanting to press or worry her, I'd just let it go and done the same, something she seemed very appreciative of.

"Look at you, making friends," mom praised as I shoved more pie in my mouth. In a way, it was kind of sad that she had to praise me for that. "I'm glad you're adjusting well. Just having a normal life is important."

I lifted the tiny fork at her. "And I understand that now. Dad and you were right." It had only taken like, a week of convincing me. Grace Pastel, as it turned out, could be very stubborn. "You know, speaking of friends, is it okay if I have one over tonight?"

Okay, maybe asking her now wasn't the greatest of ideas. If she said no, I'd be kind of screwed and possibly mess up our meetup with only just a few hours notice.

"One of the new ones? Sure, if they know how to get here. What time?"

"Eight in the evening, and she's staying for two hours—"

Mom's eyes widened, and she chewed a little too hard on her fork. "What? I need to make dinner for her! Why do you only tell me these things now—"

"No! No, it's fine!" I quickly cut in. "She'll have eaten already; I asked her a few days ago." One day, I was gonna trap Maylene and get her to eat something I made, even if I had to go through fifty steps to make it good enough for her diet. "And no, it's not Jess or Marley…" my foot idly tapped the ground. "It's Maylene. You know, the Gym Leader?"

"What?"

"What?" I said back.

"We're going to have a Gym Leader." She paused, fork dropping onto her plate. "In here?"

"Yes?"

"You're friends with a Gym Leader?" my mother asked me as if I was delusional.

"Yes!" I yelled. "I'm friends with Candice too, okay? Can you stop being weird about it?"

"Of course, she can show up." Her agreement came with a glance around the house to probably figure out how to make everything perfect and clean for Maylene's arrival. "I'm glad you have people with good heads on their shoulders to guide you, Grace."

"Yeah." When one thought of Candice, they couldn't really say that, but it was true for Maylene, at least. "Thanks. I know it's a lot."

She stood up, looked around and said, "I'm gonna be… vacuuming around here. And cleaning up. And redecorating a little. And—yeah, I'll be busy most of the day. Is that okay with you? If you need me, we can do something. Meet some of the neighbors."

"I'll be fine." I waved a dismissive hand. The answer kind of surprised me, honestly. I'd be alone with just my Pokemon, and was… pretty sure I'd be okay? "I'll probably just hang around the house or with my team."

"Good. You let me know if that changes." She picked up my empty plate and got started on doing the dishes. I could see a panhandle and a big pot peeking above the sink. It was utterly full. Usually, mom wouldn't let it get to that point. She was still hurting because of grandma's death, but just hiding it so well it was as if nothing had happened. "Oh! And I volunteered to help at the school tomorrow. Want to come with, since you're staying for the weekend?"

"Sure." I slowly stood up from my chair. "Volunteer as like, a teacher?"

"It's a special event for Renewal Day. All of the kids and some of their parents are going to go to class for a party, and I volunteered as a cook."

Right. Renewal Day was June 1st and usually meant the first day of the Conference, where there would be massive festivities on the Lily of the Valley Island and end with the declaration of the start of the tournament. Since it was delayed, people were taking to their own way of celebrating all over the country; I just hadn't thought a small, slow town like Twinleaf would do it as well.

"Sure. I'll help out. Honey can help, too."

"Great!" she beamed. Had she expected me to say no? "It's going to be a lot of fun."

I stuck around a little bit to help Mom at least do the dishes, but she refused any other help and sent me on my way. First, I went back out, released my entire team, and woke up Mimi from their slumber. The good thing about Twinleaf was that Sweetheart could be out no questions asked so long as she didn't terrify the populace. I had to warn her about not wandering off too far, but she seemed pleased by the location and the fact that there was a lake in view.

I stuck around for a few hours, which were mostly focused on helping Cass improve their Teleporting capabilities with moral support and practicing with Princess' cutting. Eventually, thoughts of tonight started to get way too overwhelming for me to focus on anything else, so I left my team out and climbed up the stairs to the guest bedroom. It was a tiny thing, with a small one-person bed and a single nightstand beside it whose legs were uneven. It held a dim-looking lamp that was way too small to light up even this tiny room.

"Oh."

There was also a tiny closet. Good for me, I guess. There were even a bunch of free hangers for my clothes. Herdier followed me inside around a minute later, and I smirked as I reached down to scratch his chin. He went to lie down beside the bed. Mom said most of what he did these days was sleep, so he was kind of like Sunshine.

Grandma's room was available and a lot bigger, but obviously, I wasn't going to use a dead woman's room. Plus, this place being more cramped was a good thing. Maylene liked small spaces; she would feel a lot more comfortable and at home here. After dropping my backpack on the ground, I sat on the bed, hands feeling at the tough mattress before I had to chase away thoughts of Maylene staying overnight. It wasn't going to happen, even if I asked. Moreover, the bed was too small, stuck against the wall in the corner of the room.

I checked again, just to be sure—a harmless thought exercise.

Yeah. Too small to sleep without going into touch debt.

After downing some water from my gourd, I placed all of my clothes for the week-end in the closet and grabbed my phone. Service around here was pretty bad, but it was enough to send messages and place calls. A small laugh—nearly a breath—escaped through my nose when I saw that mom still hadn't put a password on her WiFi. I quickly scrolled through the messages I'd missed on the way here. A selfie from Jess with her tongue hanging out with a piano in the background. I answered with a simple 'Are you taunting me?' and she asked for a piano duel after our next class. Well, sure, that sounded fun; she was on. Emilia had sent a video of a new routine she was working on and had asked Denzel if it was good for content in our group chat.

Denzel was actually streaming right now—or his Lopunny was. She was training in one of the public arenas at the League with the rest of his team since they were still empty. Even Froslass was back, having traveled from Mount Coronet to the League on her own and gotten nearly killed again as soon as she crossed the island's perimeter.

Anyway, he was commentating from his hospital through a call and was mostly on entertainment duty. I stayed around and watched for a few minutes, dropping a few comments until people noticed I was in there and started pinging my username and being annoying. Maybe I shouldn't have made it literally my name, but it was what Poketch wanted for my official account on every site.

This was really just delaying the inevitable, though. There was something in particular I'd wanted to ask Maylene to do with our hangouts. I clicked on her name and looked at our last message—a sticker of Crasher Wake doing a thumbs up a few days ago. She really liked his stickers; she was close to Wake and his husband, and he'd been the one to convince her to start therapy after…

Ugh. Before the bad thoughts could take over, I kept thinking forward.

Since we couldn't text much, sometimes I'd scroll back to our past messages and read them again when things got tough. I'd hold on to texts of her saying nice things about me whenever my thoughts went to a dark place and started telling me I was worthless. These days, there were fewer of those. I considered what would be a proper beginning until I realized I didn't need an excuse.

All of it would follow protocol.

You - Hey.

Maylene - hii

Hm. Only two 'i's today; she must have been busy at work, so I'd try to keep things short. Wait, I was supposed to keep things short anyway.

You - I have a question if that's okay.

Maylene - depends on the reason. R u relapsing or does this hav to do with later

You - It's technically allowed in the rules. It has to do with our next session after this one at your Gym.

Maylene - alright

Taking a deep breath, I began typing the message. My fingers were slower than usual; there was some kind of self-doubt creeping further and further into my head the longer I looked at what I'd written. My body felt heavy, sinking into my bed's mattress. This must have been because I hadn't had enough sessions with her.

You - So we're going to the gym to work out, right? I know we won't practice that day but I was wondering what you were going to be wearing?

Maylene - oh i havent thought about it yet

Maylene - whjy

Why? What did she mean, why? It was important to know all of the information in advance; this was a very serious process. We needed as few variables as possible, or something might happen to make me relapse—

Maylene - I mean I can just throw on whatever

You - What about what you were wearing last time?

Maylene - at ur dads apartment?

Was she going to make me spell it out?! This was so frustrating… but a fun kind of frustrating. I rolled over on my stomach, legs kicking in the air as I took a deep breath.

You - The clothes you were wearing at the gym looked nice.

You - Easy to move in and stuff. I'm just saying it might be efficient for you to wear them again for the best experience possible. And you wearing the same thing would be nice in a symbolism kind of way. It would rhyme. I like it when that happens. It's how I see the world. You can ask anyone who knows me, and they'll tell you the same thing.

I dropped my phone on my bed, eagerly waiting for her answer. I peeked at the screen a few seconds after it vibrated again.

Maylene - oooooh

Maylene - dw I know. I'll wear it.

My throat released a breath I'd apparently been holding, and I couldn't help but feel mildly lightheaded. It was going to be a good day to have eyes—which would be a bonus to all of this. The primary concern was exactly what I'd said to Maylene. I rolled over again, this time on my side, and continued texting her.

You - What about today? It's pretty hot down south; you might want to not wear that much fabric. I know you're resistant to heatstroke and things like that, but maybe you should be careful.

Maylene - thx for the warning ill wear something light like my tank top the other day

For a long while, the chat bubble with three dots flashed on my screen, and I eagerly awaited what she'd say. Eventually, Maylene must have deleted what she'd been typing because the bubble disappeared and reappeared after a few seconds.

Maylene - see u tonight! no more texting, ok?

You - Okay!

My hands clutched my phone against my heart. Wow, that had been tough. I wouldn't know what to do with myself if she'd called me creepy for it. That was a constant fear of mine with her, to be honest, even if she was being nice about it and catching the look on my face nearly every time I was about to launch into a self-deprecating spiral. Maylene was just so normal compared to me that I was terrified of scaring her off because of something I'd say or do, even if it was mildly irrational, and she'd already accepted the sum of things that made me—both the ugly and the good. Because there was good in me. That was what I had to believe if I wanted to make it, and she was teaching me that every time we interacted.

Oh. And 'official' therapy too, I guess; I've only had two sessions so far, though. Admittedly, it was just going… okay? I found it a lot less reliable than what I was doing with Maylene, but again, I couldn't rely just on her to get better. I imagined things would ramp up eventually on that front.

Anyway, now that the situation was dealt with, all that remained was to pick what I was going to wear. I glanced out the window at my Pokemon, making sure Sweetheart was still close to the house and not scaring the town's inhabitants by wandering off wherever she pleased. So long as she stuck close and didn't scream, we'd be fine. Right now, Buddy was spraying her with water, and I wasn't certain if it was due to the heat or just because she enjoyed being wet. Leaning against the open windowsill to get a better view, I saw Princess teaching Cass how to… make sharp objects with Ancient Power? No, were they playing at sword fighting? She was obviously way more into it than they were. I chuckled when the ground type kept screaming that she was way too into it and that it was terrifying. She had them on the ropes, and them floating away wouldn't hurt, considering she was considerably faster.

Sunshine, as usual, had found a tree a few hundred feet away to snore under. Sleeping helped him think a lot better, so hopefully he'd give some thought to that technique I'd brought up a few days ago. By the way it looked like he was smiling—it was difficult to tell from here—he was probably just dreaming about ruling vast swathes of territory and holding onto Mount Wela's seat of power by snatching a story away from the hands of its domain holder.

Honey and Angel weren't there; they must have brought Mimi exploring somewhere. Maybe by the river with all those Bidoof we'd helped with relocating their dam the last time I'd been here? Oh, Legendaries, Mimi would go crazy seeing a Bidoof-made dam. Hopefully, that was it!

Since they were all behaving, I tiptoed around Herdier, who was lying down with one eye open and one ear up, and grabbed the three options I had brought for tonight. This wasn't going to be our last practice session, but it was going to be the last where it was just our thing, so it mattered. That meant I needed to be… well, accessible if Maylene wanted to try somewhere new. I was pretty sure she was going to.

So;

A pair of light blue denim shorts with a ripped aesthetic near the hemline. This, I could pretty much pair with any top, but I'd been planning to use one of the two camisoles I owned. The problem was that these were basically tank tops, and there were odds Maylene would show up in shorts, too. Part of me thought matching would be cute, but it'd also be weird. So weird my mother might get ideas. I could do t-shirts as well, but… meh. They didn't feel special, and I had a million of them. The other issue with these shorts is that they were a little tight around the thighs, which docked points for accessibility. It'd probably look nice on me for sure—not that it mattered—but the goal here was to be as practical as possible.

A sundress. Sundresses were nice; they felt like water on your skin, so light it was as if you were flowing in the wind. This one was a soft shade of blue reminiscent of a clear, cloudless day. It was a mild low cut and long enough to nearly reach my ankles. Now, it wasn't as if she wouldn't be able to just lift it up like she'd done to my shirt—if she went there, of course; the option was hers. The problem was that if she wanted to go for my waist or my stomach again, that might be too much. There was no way she'd get her hands all the way up there without it breaching a serious line. She might as well be undressing me at that point—

I swallowed wrong, sending me into a mild coughing fit that had me nearly doubled over. I hadn't imagined it. Even if my head spun and my next full breath trembled. It'd be wrong in every single way.

Not happening. Not happening. And I didn't want it to happen.

The skirt was next, a little above the knees but wide and flowy enough to have zero obstructions. It was a mix of white and pastel pink, and had a flowery pattern all over, which was really good summer vibes. There was something about pastel or pale colors on me that I enjoyed. Again, I could pair it with any top, and I really liked flower patterns on clothes, but I was finding my lack of good tops kind of limiting, and I really didn't have good shoes, either. Did I need to buy more clothes? That thought sat with me for a moment as I looked down at the skirt. The good thing about pairing it with a top was that it'd make everything easy to reach under, unlike the dress. It really was about the pros and the cons, at the end of the day.

Both of them had desirable features and faults. The dress was genuinely the one I thought looked the nicest, and I wouldn't need to worry about a top. It was, however, limiting her options to my legs, my thighs, my neck, or my face. Sure, there were my arms, hands, and wrists, but tonight was special; she wouldn't limit herself just to those. And the point of the process was to ramp up until I got used to being touched everywhere. Repeats just weren't optimal as of now; those needed to come after my entire body was used to her touch.

One had to consider every angle before these things.

The skirt left the most body parts open, so it was a practice-focused choice and not a hanging-out focused choice. Maybe Maylene would want to spread out the touching in some kind of final test for me to see what I'd learned these past sessions. Sure, it wouldn't be final, final—we'd still practice, but just a lot less often—but again, this one was special. But what top was I gonna wear? The camisole?

I must have stood there for eight minutes, glancing between the skirt and the dress, considering every possibility before…

Hm.

"I think I'm gonna go with the dress," I declared with my hands on my hips. "What do you think, Herdier?"

He whined out a sigh, got up, and crawled under the bed as if I was annoying him.

"Fine, don't be any help," I grumbled. "Gotta trust my gut on this one." Better focus on the areas we hadn't studied yet; it would be a tougher test.

My phone said there were only four hours left, so it was about time I got ready and made sure everything was in order. There was nothing in the room to clean up since I'd just moved in, so that was a plus. I must have spent over an hour and a half in the bathroom showering, washing my hair, blow drying it with the most scuffed hair dryer, shaving; it was honestly a lot of work, especially when it took like ten minutes for the water to change from cold to lukewarm. Maybe I should have just called Buddy over for help. I had a few piano guides going in the background on my phone while in there, but it kept buffering even worse than Denzel's stream somehow. Mom had probably been using the internet.

Back in the guest room, I waited as the hours ticked by and the sun slowly set. It always took longer than expected during summer. When there were twenty minutes left or so, I considered putting on the same lip gloss I'd had during the ceremony and funeral, but decided against it. It was too much and probably would make my mom look at me weird. With so little time remaining, it felt difficult to focus on anything else, even if I tried to keep myself busy. Was that odd? Did that mean I was slipping into bad, old habits again and growing too dependent on someone else? That was what percolated through my mind as I ate some chicken soup my mother made and eagerly stared out the window.

Of course, I brushed my teeth after. Bad breath would suck.

Once the clock struck 7:55 pm, I made my way downstairs, and my mom took a long look at me. "You look nice," she nonchalantly said.

"Do I?!" I exclaimed, then cleared my throat. "I mean, do I?" The words were a little subdued this time.

She frowned for a moment. "Yep. We should go shopping for clothes together in Sandgem sometime this summer; I've always wanted a little mother-daughter bonding time."

"That'd be nice!" I smiled and leaned against the counter. "I was thinking that I needed more clothes earlier."

"Let's make it happen!" she said with a clap of her hands. "Do you like what I did with the place?"

Looking around, I honestly couldn't tell anything was much different. The house looked cleaner and free of any dust, and… maybe the table had been moved a little? And was the television a little closer to the couch?

"...yes?" I tried.

Mom sighed and would have said something else had one of my Pokemon called me to say Maylene was here. I lifted my hands to my head, fingers spreading wide as I combed through my hair before walking out the door and yelling at my mom to stay inside even if she thought it wouldn't be polite.

As it turned out, I had been correct—Maylene was wearing shorts, though they weren't the baggy ones she had worn last time. These were a little tighter, a little shorter, accentuating the toned muscles in her legs. Her tank top was different, too—dark, maybe a deep blue, and I could catch glimpses of her sports bra straps peeking out from underneath. My friend waved with a bright smile, and as her arm lifted, her tank top rode up slightly, revealing a glimpse of her stomach.

I jogged over to her while my team greeted her. "Hi!" I said, barely containing my smile. "Not too difficult finding the place?"

Maylene scratched the back of her head. "Um. We might have Teleported to another house and spooked some neighbors…" she glanced down at the v-cut in my dress for a moment—but only for a moment. "You were our second try, though."

"Eh, that's not too bad. The last time I came here, Sweetheart scared the living hell out of these people 'cause she'd just evolved, and she would scream all the time." I glanced down at her hands. "Oh." Her nails had been done recently, polished in a soft, glossy color. "That looks really good! I didn't know you were into nails!"

Maylene brought both of her hands closer to my face, and I felt my cheeks warm. "I think it's fun," she said. "Nia took me once, like two years ago, and I've been into it ever since. Usually, I can't do it because I use my hands so much, but I figured that maybe for tonight, it'd look good."

I nodded, wishing I could grab her hand to see it up close. "Yeah. It looks really good."

"Um. You look good, also."

"Oh." I couldn't help but glance to the side, and somehow, my gaze ended up holding at the sliver of tummy again. "Th—thanks."

"Yeah, I really like the dress." Maylene pulled at the fabric next to my leg—just the fabric—nearly giving me a heart attack. "It's really soft. I'm not that good at fashion, but it's great. That's more Nia's speed."

For a few moments, there was silence. Not wishing to let it become awkward, I beckoned her. "Come on in; let me introduce you to my mom."

"I'm a little nervous about that…"

"Psht, what? She's great." I waved a dismissive hand before turning to my team. "You guys are gonna be good out there? If you're hungry again, get Buddy to come in, and I'll bring you something, okay?" Mom had stocked up on a lot of food for my arrival, and at least she'd let me pay for it, even if she was super guilty. One had to be wealthy to feed my team, and she didn't really have a job. We climbed up the porch, and I let Maylene in before me. "Mom, this is Maylene Suzuki." I closed the door behind us.

She walked up to Maylene, looking slightly on edge. "It's nice to meet you, Leader Maylene," she said. "My name is Samantha—Sam for short. I'm so sorry we didn't make anything for you; Grace insisted you wouldn't be eating. Not even a snack."

Maylene blinked at her for a moment, and shook her head. "Oh, no, no, it's completely fine! I—she was right, I'm not gonna be eating anything."

"Okay, well, if you change your mind, I'm always here," mom said with a wink. Embarrassing. So embarrassing I wanted to drag Maylene up to my room and away from her.

In fact—

"So we'll be upstairs?" I probed. Mom's eyebrows rose a tiny bit as if she'd thought we'd stay downstairs for at least a while. "I mean, we only have two hours." That seemed to confuse her even more. "We'll just be upstairs," I confirmed firmly.

While we were climbing the old, creaking stairs, Maylene whispered, "are you sure that was okay? I don't want to be impolite or anything…"

"Don't worry about it, she'll understand." A pause. "Probably."

Maylene let out a small 'woah' when she entered the guest room, and I couldn't help but feel happy at her noting how it was such a good room to have. "Cozy," she added. "Kind of my style." She plopped herself down on the bed, feeling at it before her eyes widened. "Wait! Stay right there!"

I froze. "What?" I asked with a tilt of my head. The Gym Leader pulled out her phone; before I could react, she whipped it up, and I heard a snap. "A picture? I—I wasn't ready!"

"That's what makes a good picture, Grace." She smiled smugly before looking at what she got. With an excited gasp, she turned the phone. "Look! It's so good!"

It looked… was that how I looked? I was radiating happiness in that frame. "It does look good…" I admitted.

"See? I told you—" I tried snatching it out of her hands with a laugh, but of course, she was too quick to move her hand up. "Wha—stop it, you dork!" We 'fought' over it for a while, though using that word was doing me a favor. She was so good at dodging I couldn't even graze her. "Fine, I'm making it my background now!"

My legs stopped in their tracks just as I'd been about to give up and crawl on the bed to get a better chance. "You are?"

Maylene hummed. "It's supposed to be a punishment, but you look way too happy about it. I feel like it anyway." She fiddled with her phone for a few moments. "There, the job's done."

It was true. And it was both for the lock and home screen. "You're lucky I was mindful of whether I could touch you or not, or I would have had a better chance," I grumbled with a pout.

"No. No, you really wouldn't have," Maylene giggled until her laugh faded. "But, um, if you really don't want me to, I'll—"

"It's fine. I like it." My hand twirled with a strand of hair. "What was it before?"

"Oh, just the Veilstone skyline. Basic stuff," Maylene said. "Oh, that reminds me, I wanted to show you a really funny meme!" She patted the side of the bed. "C'mere." I silently slid close to her, but made sure to keep enough distance for our shoulders not to touch. My nose tingled with some kind of really good smell. Was that soap or shampoo? Or both? I mean, Maylene smelled really good in general, anyway. "Okay, okay," she mumbled. "Hold on, I had this bookmarked."

She scrolled through Chatter for a few seconds. "I didn't know you used socials," I said.

"Oh, I only do on my alts—there it is!" She enlarged an image—a collage of what each Gym Leader would do if they came across a crying child alone on the street with captions under their pictures.

I snorted. "Pfft. That's so stupid." The only ones I knew were pretty correct were Crasher Wake and Candice trying to make the child laugh. Gardenia giving detailed instructions to the parents was really funny, though.

"Yeah. Like you," she teased.

My stomach fluttered. "Um. Anyway, there's no way you'd be in 'is the reason the child is crying' with Roark! You'd be in something nicer."

"Eh, I mean probably, but it's funny anyway." That was true enough. Maybe harmless memes were fine. "I try not to let that stuff get to me anymore."

"So what's the alt for?"

"Candice recommended it to me to blow off some steam. She has like eight, and that's just on Chatter. Wait, seven, since she got one of hers banned recently." Banned? How in the world had she even managed that? "Sometimes she'll find someone who really pisses her off and hone in on them. Like recently, there was this post that blew up about how she was messing up the situation in Snowpoint, but the poster was like, completely wrong about everything. It got nine thousand likes or so, but Candice got into a really long reply chain with the guy where it was literally him arguing with her seven alts and thinking he was talking to different people."

"Arceus… I mean, it's hilarious, but I don't think I'd have the energy for that. It sounds like so much work." Especially when there was a block button.

"I know, right? It's why I only have one. I don't even use it much to reply to people; it's just an account where I can follow and like stuff without people reading into every little thing." She inhaled sharply. "Actually! Maybe I should follow you. It'd be weird if I did it on my official account."

"I mean, I don't use Chatter much."

"What's your account?" she asked.

"GracePastelofficial," I said. She looked it up and was met with corporate post after corporate post, most of which had been tweeted by Melody or Poketch. The most recent, I had made, however. It was a farewell Chat about Craig and what he meant to me I'd made a few hours prior to his ceremony.

"Oh, you were kind of right. This looks like Cynthia's account; it's just official stuff."

I kicked my feet. "Told ya. I mean, what would I even post? I have a bunch of pictures of my team and stuff, but it's so annoying. Everything I do and say has to be approved, and it's nearly always reworded. Not that I'm the biggest fan of social media in the first place. Like ninety percent of these posts aren't even mine." It was just so restrained. Like I was constantly being held on a leash because they were scared of what I could say.

Though I guess when a Chat could potentially lose them millions, that was fine.

"Should I follow you? I wanna see the fun stuff you like," I suggested, fingers digging into the mattress.

"I—I mean, that would be really cool," Maylene stuttered. "I'd have to really curate them, then. I don't want you to think I look at unfunny stuff."

I grabbed my phone, and Maylene couldn't help but laugh at the fact that I'd forgotten my Chatter password and needed three attempts to log in.

"I just don't remember where the caps go, okay?!" I protested.

"Oh, suuuure," she said, all pompous.

"They forced me to have a really tough password! I have to change it every month!"

"Uhuh. I bet you'd have the same password for everything if you could." The mischievous undertone dripped from her words like honey. I… I did use Princess' birthday for everything. "See?" Maylene added.

"How did you even—how did you know?"

"You're easy to read when you're flustered," she said.

Ugh. Sometimes, she'd say stuff like this that I'd turn over in my head when going to sleep with a dumb grin. I mean, I knew it was true. Zachary, the teen I'd battled all the way back in Veilstone, had told me I was easy to read after my loss (and it was something I'd greatly improved on), but it was different when she made fun of me for it. And if it wasn't enough, Maylene balked when she saw that I only followed Poketch and my friends' accounts.

"Grace, are you crazy? If you follow me when you follow so few people, the community's gonna talk."

"But they don't know it's you?" I asked, tilting my head. "I'm sure if I ask Poketch, they'll let me. Hell, I didn't even ask to follow my friends; I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Oh my God." Maylene took a deep breath. "You're so bad at this that it's kind of cu—endearing." She audibly gulped and looked at me for so long—was it hot in here? The house didn't have air conditioning. "Um. Yeah. Uh, I know that's the case, but people will speculate and talk about who this is."

"Ah." I wanted to slap my forehead. "Yeah, that makes sense. What if we do it anyway?"

"Wh—what?"

"Doesn't it sound kind of fun? People going wild over basically nothing? Letting them guess for a while?" I leaned toward her, and our eyes met. My hand and fingers were so close they were less than an inch from touching hers on the bed. "Come on. Please? For me?"

Her breath hitched in her throat, and her body tensed—it looked very good when it did that. Like, objectively, from a non-biased standpoint, Maylene was an attractive girl. "If you're sure it doesn't get you in trouble," she relented.

"Yes!" I tapped the follow button before she could change her mind. "No takebacks!" I was sure Melody was going to take this well. She'd be mildly angry at best, but it'd be fine. I turned toward Maylene again before realizing we were still so close; her breath tickled my face. It was—so warm, with a hint of citrus. "S—sorry." I scooted myself away, deciding that maybe looking at her face so close wouldn't be the best idea.

"It's alright, thanks for the laughs. I needed that," Maylene said, a trace of worry threading through her tone. She rarely let it show unless things were truly serious, and seeing that she was still holding up, I felt a bit of tension ease from my shoulders. Instead, her voice would become meek and small like it currently had.

"Something wrong?" That had been a rather quick switch.

"Blergh. Just work stuff." Maylene smiled at me as if to tell me not to worry. "No need to bother you with it; I'll deal."

"I can listen?" I tried. "I mean, I don't think I'd be great for advice—I don't even know what I'm doing most of the time." The urge to grab her hand and tell her I wanted to be here for her was so strong my fingers twitched as if they had a mind of their own.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I know you're dealing with a lot, and I guess you could call it low-stakes stuff…"

I turned toward her as much as I could, stopping right before our knees would touch. "Maylene, you've been—you've been here for me so much since the ceremony, and I know I said I'd use you, but I don't want to just take. I want to give, too. So this… partnership is more equal, eventually. Because I don't want to be unhealthy forever. That's the goal, right?"

Maylene nodded. "Right."

"Actually, you know what?" I shifted slightly away from her and pushed her onto my lap, touching both her head and opposite arm in the process. I felt her body tense at the contact, a contraction that sent something akin to a jolt in my fingers. "There. That's like two seconds taken off our practice time later," I said as best I could, trying to act like the contact hadn't bothered me. "Your head's only touching my dress, not my skin, so it's okay."

I'd definitely made the right choice. There would have been a risk of further bodily contact if I'd gone with the shorts.

For a few seconds, she didn't say anything; I feared I'd fucked it all up, and unabashed horror rippled through me like a wave, seizing my throat and making it hard to breathe.

"S—sorry!" Maylene shot up, and we nearly bumped foreheads. "It's not you—your thighs are just really soft. I wasn't—wasn't ready." Was that good? That was good, right? "Can I do it again? I just need to brace myself."

"Oh." I glanced at the door; it was shut, and the stairs were so old we'd be able to hear if mom came up. That was close; I'd nearly forgotten to actually check. "Yeah, go ahead."

The Gym Leader muttered, "Okay," under her breath, exhaling and inhaling for a few cycles until she dropped her head on my lap again. Her breathing went from frantic to slow and steady, and her eyes stopped fluttering, relaxing until they were half-closed. The hem of her shirt slipped above her stomach, and there was an urge within me to just run a hand through her hair. Instead, I leaned back, pushing my hands against the bed, and gripped at the fabric.

"Can I start?" Maylene asked. "Like I said, it's not really a big deal. Like, it's not my dad or anything." She was looking directly at me, pink gaze locked and held onto mine, drawing me in like an unbreakable pull.

"Yeah." My response was meek. This felt like a less intense practice session.

"Okay, so there's this issue where the Gym's really been struggling with money, but it was fine until we reopened," Maylene sighed. "Now we have to spend more on our Pokemon because they're the ones doing the fighting, and it means I couldn't pay the cleaning staff on time today because the League wouldn't give any more. The cash flow's too tight." Her lips pressed together in disappointment directed at herself. "And I'm the one who had to make the decision on whose pay would be delayed. I'm the one who had to make that final call, because like, if the trainers or engineers are unhappy, or if we don't spend enough on taking care of our Pokemon, then there's no Gym, and I can't close again because it would fuck everything over—weeks of prep—and it was just… a lot. It was my first time having to deal with that."

I… didn't know what to say. All of this time, she'd helped me deal with my problems, and I hadn't even considered she might be hurting because of things outside of my control for one second. And that was fine. It took a moment to readjust the thought of it in my head because—she was perfect, and yet she wasn't. Maybe that was okay. Maybe she was my Hero, but also just a person.

"I'm sorry," was all I could muster. I didn't know how to run a gym; I didn't know about handling employees; I didn't know the first thing about cash flow. Yet I wanted to be here for her anyway. "How long is it gonna take to pay them?"

"Probably in two weeks," she said. "I'll hand them a bonus whenever I can and additional paid sick days, but it still sucks, because like, I assume a lot of them need money now." Maylene rubbed her tired eyes. "Y'know, sometimes it's like, I wonder if I'm a bad boss, still."

"I mean, you improved a lot after…" after the event. And there were so many better ways to go about that, but this remained unsaid. An apology tried to force itself out of my mouth, but I couldn't. Because then she'd stop venting and focus on me for catastrophizing. This was about her. "I mean, I'm not there a lot, but there's no doubt in my mind that you're doing a better job."

"Thanks." She smiled and lifted her hand, but it lingered close to my face instead of touching me. She dropped it soon after, and we ignored it just like we always ignored everything else. "It's just that I still get these thoughts whenever things go wrong, or a trainer messes up a Pokemon's training regimen, or something. That things would just go so much better if I could do all of it, and a little voice inside my head calls them useless." Her face scrunched up in disgust at herself. "Like my father's will is still trying to control me and make me do his bidding even if I got rid of him."

"But you don't act upon those, right?" I tried reassuring her. "People get bad thoughts all the time. The difference, I learned, is when you actually do them. That's when it becomes an issue." Maylene didn't look that sure of what I'd said. "It's what I learned and some of what made me try to grow as a person. There's a lot of growth left, though."

She breathed a laugh. "I guess we both do. Whatever my intentions, I screwed up by opening too early. I knew it'd be tight, but I miscalculated. I wanted to give the country hope by returning to normal."

"I understand. Just… try your best to do better next time?" I tried. "Sorry, was that too—"

"No, that was good!" Maylene exclaimed before her smile turned impish. "Could have been better, though. Like: 'Next time, don't underestimate how many hours Pokemon will have to be trained to shake off the rust, you idiot!'" She tapped her chin. "Or something like that. I'd rate yours a six."

I scoffed. "Six out of ten? Come on."

"Six out of a hundred."

I shook my legs, nearly throwing her head off me. Of course, she was Maylene, so while she was caught off-guard, she recovered pretty easily. One day, I'd get her. The Gym Leader flicked me on the nose—there was something so charming about how soft it was despite how strong Maylene could get—and she stood up, her head leaving the comfort of my lap.

"We're even, now—don't make that face at me; you touched me first. What, are you gonna take point one second away from practice?" she challenged.

"Yeah, I am." I poked her side, finger digging into the soft tank top. The yelp that followed was so sweet. "What're you gonna do about it?" Another poke. Then another, though now that she'd been expecting it, they were less effective at drawing out any noise.

One thing I had learned about this girl since coming back from Coronet was that she was very combative. Maylene's eyes widened in surprise as she let out a playful laugh, her earlier challenge melting into a grin. "Oh, you're asking for it now," she smugly spoke with terrible intentions dancing in her eyes.

Before I could react, she suddenly lunged toward me, her hands reaching for my sides. I barely had time to brace myself before her fingers started to tickle my waist, their quick, deft movements sending waves of laughter through me she couldn't help but draw out. I squirmed, trying to escape her grasp, but it only made her laugh more, her fingers finding every vulnerable spot. It was impossible to mistake the spark when our skin touched while I struggled, but… it was accidental. Thrashing around was a very human reaction to being tickled. I couldn't take time off for that. "S—Stop! Maymay, stop! I give up, okay!" I gasped between fits of laughter, though my protest was more playful than serious.

I'd expected her to keep going for a while, but she slowly came to a pause. I could still feel her fingers on my waist through my dress, even if they were gone. Twice, she'd been on top of me like this. The first time at her gym, what I'd felt had begun with worry for her well-being, which had led to horror as realization dawned on me, and I could no longer deny what had been in front of my eyes for weeks. Tonight, well—

Well, it wasn't bad. Now that we'd put up limits to this therapy. I hadn't had the time to appreciate this before. Her eyes were still sparkling with the remnants of our laughter; her defined shoulders were tense above me; her stomach poked out of her shirt from our tussle; loose strands of her short hair hung above me. If she'd been closer, I would have been able to feel her sweet breath on my face again.

"Sorry. I was worried your mom would hear; the walls are pretty thin." She glanced toward the door, still unmoving.

I just about panicked—I'd completely forgotten my mother was even downstairs! "What's she doing? Can you hear her?"

Maylene closed her eyes and focused for a few seconds. "Hm. Doesn't look like anything's changed. I think she's watching TV? Might be radio… yeah, I think it's radio."

The tendons in my muscles loosened, and my head hit the edge of the pillow behind me. I noticed that Maylene hadn't gotten off yet. She was looking at me with that same gaze she held during practice that I couldn't help but shy away from until she reminded me that I was supposed to look at her. "We probably shouldn't—do it yet, right?" I whispered.

"Hmhm."

We always practiced near the end of our assigned time together. Doing it before… well, it was tough to have to go back to normal like nothing had happened after that. And structurally, well, it just made more sense.

"If you want to keep looking at me from this position, that's fine," I said.

"No." Maylene finally got off. "That position's dangerous. I might do something bad." Something bad? She must have meant touching outside of practice time for more than a split-second. "You… used my nickname."

"Oh. Oh, sorry. It kind of just slipped out; I've heard Candice use it all the time lately, so I guess I unconsciously said it."

"It's fine," she said.

"Names are important; I shouldn't have used it without your permission." Maylene's friends did use it a whole lot, so it wasn't like it was—okay, maybe it was a big deal, but it wasn't that bad.

"I meant you can call me that," Maylene said, cheeks dusting with a slight tint of red.

I blinked at her really fast. "That makes sense." I wasn't certain I would do it much, though. It felt like a line crossed. "Oh! You know, speaking of nicknames, this girl from my piano class is just so weird with them! She just adds an 's' at the end of everything—her name is Jess…"

Things continued going pretty well after that. I spoke to her about piano class until I ran out of things to say, though she seemed pretty proud I'd made two friends-acquaintances-whatever they were. I couldn't tell her much about wanting to train with Marley because I'd kind of promised I wouldn't say anything about it, but it was going to be a work in progress. She asked about therapy next and kind of… pushed me a little, saying that it sounded as if I didn't care. I did care, just not as much as this. Me and my therapist just hadn't clicked yet like I had immediately with Aliyah. Luckily, mom came by to save me and asked if we were sure we didn't need anything else.

The atmosphere remained light afterward, and much of our time was spent just browsing through Maylene's Chatter feed or looking at people asking who it was I had followed. Melody had already sent me a worried message, but apparently, Poketch had just… figured out it was Maylene's alt? It was creepy how they could just do that. Anyway, it was all fun and games until she said I needed to unfollow that account. Apparently if no one said anything, most people would just think it had been a missclick, and the rumors would die down.

She had said I could follow Maylene's official account if I wanted, so I did that, along with Candice's. I wanted to go for Gardenia's as well, but was worried it would come off as stalkerish until Maylene pressed it for me—without my permission! 'A joke,' she called it. She was lucky I couldn't stay mad at her long.

Now, it'd be odd to unfollow her. I hoped I would be able to go to her Gym soon, but she was still busy.

Time always went faster when you had fun, and these two hours were going by so quickly. It wasn't until 9:30 pm that we shared a knowing look, instantly recognizing that it was time to get serious and dive into our practice session.

"Where do you want to do it?" For a moment, I thought she'd been asking me where I wanted to be touched and nearly blurted something out, but she was asking where I wanted to be. Her voice was a low whisper, as it always was before we started. Mine was, too.

The room felt a lot more cramped now. "I guess I can stay sitting on the bed," I mumbled.

Maylene stood up, then eyed me for a second. "I—I think it's too low; it wouldn't be comfortable for what I want." Upon further reflection, I understood what she meant. She'd probably have to lean in really close if she wanted it to work.

"Against the wall is fine, then," the words slipped out.

"Okay." Maylene fiddled on her phone, no doubt setting up her alarm. "I actually—since this is kind of our last session before you branch out, I was thinking that we both get five minutes." I could tell this was something she'd been trying to figure out how to bring it up. "If you're fine with it."

"Me? Doing the touching?"

"I'd go first. And if you aren't comfortable, we don't have to," Maylene reassured me.

The thought of it sat in my head, spinning around my brain as I considered every angle. I wasn't supposed to be touching her, though theoretically, nothing in the contract on our phones said that. It only mentioned 'contact,' and that was from either party. It had been more of a moral objection than anything else on my part. Yet here she was, offering herself up to me. I hadn't been the one to ask. And if it was just for tonight… this might be my final opportunity.

"Can we see how I feel after yours?" I said, unsure of myself.

"Sure. I put two alarms this time," Maylene said.

We got into position, with me again close to a structure to support myself on. The nightstand wasn't that stable, but it would do. I flinched, whimpering when Maylene brought her hand close to me until I realized she'd been grabbing the lamp and putting it on the ground.

"We don't want it to fall off, right?" she breathed out. "Are you ready?" A nod. "Remember the safe word."

Another nod to signal her to start, and she began. Maylene's hands moved in two different directions. Her right went down, and her left went up—oh my God, she was going for the face—the leg?—this was so overwhelming—

The first point of contact sent a shiver through me, her touch firm yet delicate as her fingers brushed against my skin. Her left hand traced the line of my jaw, her thumb lightly brushing my cheek as her fingers cradled my face. It was a tender, almost reverent touch that made my breath hitch in my throat. The next touched my thigh through the fabric, at first. It was nearly a grab that made it difficult to stand straight because of the tremor it sent down my leg.

While her right hand slid down my leg, her thumb traced the corner of my lip. There was barely any pressure—it was just a graze, probably accidental, but it made me hyperaware of hers. The subtle curve to them was gone; she was entirely focused on this. On me. Right now, they were relaxed. There was a delicate sheen to them, as if she'd unconsciously moistened them in thought. Each of the harsh breaths she took made them part just a little more.

Maylene leaned in, not close enough to be near my ear, but— "Remember to breathe," she whispered, and I inhaled what felt like the largest, shivering breath I'd ever taken. Her voice diluted in my ear and made me bite my lip in desperation to stop my voice from leaking uncontrollably.

My face felt so hot I thought the skin was going to burn off and meld with her hand. Every time my head would move, she'd bring it back up with a finger so I could look at her, and it was burning, and it was intense, and it was demanding, and it was everything.

But something changed on her left hand. She grew more confident as the dozens of seconds that seemed so long yet so short passed. I was left with a moment—just a moment of respite as Maylene quickly crouched and grabbed onto the bottom of my dress. The light, blue fabric shifted up under her touch. Up and up and up, her fingertips leaving a trail of heat in their wake and goosebumps across my legs. She brushed up against the burned skin right above my knee and stayed there until—

Until the alarm rang. My head was so foggy I thought ten minutes had passed, but that was just five. Just five. What if it had been ten? What if she'd kept shifting ever closer to me? My heart was hammering against my ribcage like an animal begging to be let out. Her hands immediately got off me, and for a while, we just stood there as the feeling faded, heaving for air to recover from the fervor of that half-session.

"Sorry. I thought two places at once might be too intense," she paused to take a breath, "but I went for it anyway."

"It's fine. It's like, a final test." I wasn't in a much better state. "The darkness on you is fading really fast. It was a good session." The few slivers that remained were on her fingertips and bleeding into the world. In a few dozen seconds, there'd be nothing left.

"Good. That's good. It's important to stay focused."

"Yep. Focused," I mirrored.

"Are you good to go for your turn?" she asked. "Or should I keep going?"

"I think I—I think I can handle it. Can I do your stomach?" I blurted out.

"Oh. Sure, you've been looking at it a lot. I thought maybe something was wrong." She'd caught that? Wait, of course, she had; her vision was top-notch. "I guess I'll sit on the bed for this one. If that's okay?"

"Sure. Do whatever you want," I mumbled.

Maylene sat on the bed, fingers digging into the side of the thin mattress, and I got on my knees. She was staring down at me. There was something about that look that just—something about it just got me. Maylene lifted her tank top and revealed her full stomach, keeping it under her chest. The skin was smooth and taut, with faint lines of her abdominal muscles subtly outlined beneath the surface. Even if the lighting here was garbage, it glowed from the nightlamp, and the sweat on it glistened almost invitingly.

There was no denying that the hints of it had caught my attention all night long. It was just—when you looked at it from a non-biased standpoint, it was…

I lost my train of thought.

Shit, I was wasting time. "I can—I can go, right?" I asked, impatience leaking through my shaky voice.

"Yeah." The reply came breathless.

My fingers hesitantly reached out, but I didn't even manage a slight graze before a soft, blue glow started to leak out of Maylene's skin. My hand didn't flinch back. The aura felt cold, yet hot at the same time, a confusing blend that I was in no mind to try to even think about. It wasn't—wasn't hurting me. I looked up at Maylene, who nodded, and I kept reaching out until I managed a graze, gliding over the defined lines and feeling the slight give of her muscles under my touch. She was so warm. Her stomach pushed against me with every shaking breath. And while her being on the receiving end wasn't usual, it wasn't bad, either. Even if me touching her tainted her far more than her touching me. I angled my hand up in an attempt to get my full palm to touch—

Maylene's head whirled up, and she inhaled sharply. Too sharply for it to be a result of what I'd been doing. "Crap—your mom! Your mother's coming up the stairs!"

Immediately, panic sent in; it was an easy transition. The quick breaths went from some kind of yearning and exhaustion to stress, and the excitement of my beating heart turned into anxiety. Part of me wanted to double down and say we weren't doing anything bad, but I knew how it would look if she came in and I was on my knees in front of Maylene while she was lifting her shirt—and she was already putting it down anyway. We scrambled into whatever would seem natural positions. Maylene was fastest and just sat on the bed, so I followed suit, making sure to be as far away from her as possible.

We were lucky Maylene had one undamaged ear left and had good hearing, or it might have been too late. Mom knocked, and while Maylene didn't look ready at all, we needed to answer and tell her to come in, or she'd get worried and do so anyway. Telling her not to would just make her suspicious. Maylene whispered to tell her to enter.

Okay. Deep breaths. Nothing was happening. "Come in!" The door opened, bits of torn wood raking against the floor. "Mom," I exhaled, each breath long, loud and drawn out. "What's wrong? Did my Pokemon need something? I told you we didn't need any snacks." My head subconsciously turned toward Maylene, who was as red as a tomato. At least she'd stopped leaking aura.

"I heard something rattling up here; I thought there was a problem." Fuck. Fuck! The Arceus damn nightstand? Really? "Is everything okay up here?" She glanced between me and Maylene, a constant dance that grew more and more suspicious every time her gaze passed over us.

"Yep. Yep. Perfectly okay," Maylene said in the most apprehensive way possible. "I was just going to—I was gonna leave soon, Ms… is it still Pastel?"

"It is still Pastel," mom confirmed in a pointed tone and crossed her arms. "You'd better come downstairs."

I did my best not to glance toward Maylene or not to show disappointment that we wouldn't be able to finish practice today. All I could think about as we all walked down the stairs was the shape of her abs on my palm and how her aura writhed around my hand like a living, breathing being without even hurting me. At least just getting yanked back into the real world had done wonders to recover quicker than usual.

Once we all entered the living room, Maylene spoke up again. "Actually, I think I'm gonna leave a little early." I eyed her as if my eyes could throw out knives. Don't just abandon me here with all of this, you ass! I knew she'd just have to hide out there until Kadabra came back, anyway. She met my gaze with an apologetic look. "Or—or maybe not?"

"Oh, we wouldn't want to hold you up here." Mom was saying this, but I could tell she wanted her to stay. "Unless you have something to tell me?" It was odd to hear her speak this way. In all of our time reconnecting, she'd never, ever sounded like she might scold me. Scold us.

"Not at all; but Kadabra will take a bit to get here anyway." She echoed my thoughts as mom motioned at us to sit on different parts of the couch. "I—I could tell him to swing by early, though."

"That won't be necessary—now listen, girls. I don't want to imply anything here, but on the off-chance that something might have been happening upstairs, I feel the need to mention this. Leader Maylene, you do know my daughter is dating another girl—"

"Oh God, why are you being so weird?" I interrupted her as I threw my hands up. "Nothing was happening, and she does know! We're just—friends." That hadn't come out as easily as it once did. Something to worry about later.

"I've been helping Grace with… therapy." Maylene was looking down at her feet, refusing to meet my mother's stare.

"And are you a licensed therapist, young lady?" Mom's voice was a sharp knife.

"Well, no, but—it works for her," she tried.

"Look. All she does is touch parts of my skin for ten minutes because my head is so fucked that I think I'll make people worse if they even graze me. People who aren't my parents." It was humiliating to say it out loud to anyone who wasn't Maylene. I wasn't meant to be exposed like this, to step out into the spotlight and to be seen as the freak that I was. "And I hate the idea of making my friends sink down to my level, so it's intense for me. I sweat and breathe harshly and stuff."

"Does your actual therapist know about this?" mom asked. I couldn't tell if she believed me or not; I hadn't known her for long enough to know her tells.

"Yes, okay? He does!" I groaned. He knew about my condition, not what I was doing to fix it. "And it won't be just her doing this." From now on, at least. "If you really need reassurance, I can bring you to one of my friends the next time I do this."

I hadn't even given thought to who would be helping me. Denzel would be my first choice, but his parents made things really uncomfortable. Pauline or Emilia might have too many questions… maybe Chase? I felt like he'd do it no questions asked. Just keep a hand wrapped around my wrist for ten minutes, call me a weirdo, and then be on his way. It would be a lot more transactional, less intimate, and part of me thought that would blow.

My mother drew out a long sigh and closed her eyes, whispering Arceus' name under her breath. "Okay, Grace. I'll come and see what this is about, but I'd like it if you dealt with it only with professionals." Thank the Legendaries, she was letting this stupid idea go, though I didn't think she would actually agree to look at me practicing— "But I'll leave you with this thought, okay? And it's for both of you. Oh, and I'm telling your dad."

I leaned against the armrest with an exasperated sigh as she launched into her story. "When I was younger, I made a horrible, horrible mistake. I cheated on my husband." She paused, letting the idea sink in. I couldn't bear to look at Maylene right now. "For a while, it was emotional. Flirty comments, and going shopping, and restaurants, and bars…" she shook her head, face scrunching up at the memory. "It hadn't escalated yet physically, but it was still cheating, even then." A pit started to form in my stomach, and my hands grew moist. That wasn't me. It wasn't. Couldn't be. "As a general rule of thumb, you should never do something if you would need to hide it from your partner."

Ah.

Okay.

Everything was fine. It was still under control.

"I would have told her already," I said. "But she's off-route with no service, and I don't even know where exactly beyond the fact that she's south of here. The plan was always to tell her when she came back."

I wasn't delusional; I knew Cecilia wouldn't be indifferent to the time I was spending with Maylene. But she would understand, right? She'd left me, and I accepted that. I knew she needed time for herself to work through our issues. But I'd been at my lowest point. I wasn't like her. Once, I might have been capable of running away and figuring everything out on my own. And maybe, eventually, I could have managed without Maylene's help. But there was no denying how quickly things had improved with her. Without her? I turned toward the Gym Leader, relieved to see that she'd relaxed as well. Seeing her calm made me feel even calmer in turn.

Without her, just reaching this point might have taken months. There was no doubt in my mind now that my mental health would have cratered had I actually managed to reject Maylene at the Ceremony. I still got goosebumps when I closed my eyes and saw her there, saving me like a damn prince, telling me to taint her and that she could take it. It might have stopped me from ever starting to train in hopes of getting into the Conference. It might have made me start skipping piano and therapy lessons so I could lay in my bed all day—it wasn't like dad would know; he was always at work. It might have stopped me from making new friends—I was ready to call them that, now.

And then Cecilia would come back, all fixed or on the road to being fixed, and where would I be?

I'd be useless. A lump of flesh rotting in my room for days with just my Pokemon to support me.

I wasn't like Cecilia. I needed people. Bellatrix, Jasmine, Aliyah—I needed people to hold on to be myself.

Herdier broke the silence with a whine, and my mother followed suit. "Then why did you hide it from—" she clicked her tongue and bit her lip. "I'm just glad you'll tell her, and I hope to Arceus you're telling the truth. I think it might be best if you got going now," she told Maylene, still in that same pointed tone.

"Right. Thanks for having me over, Ms. Pastel. I—I'll message my Gym so they send Kadabra over—"

Maylene's alarm rang throughout the living room, signaling that another five minutes had passed. My mom paid it no mind, but she looked extremely confused at the face we both made. Lately, I'd begun to associate the alarm sound with practice, so it was weird to have it just out in the open.

When Maylene turned off the alarm and finished sending her message, I shot up. "Ah—I'll see you out."

We set out into the warm night air. Sweetheart was sleeping soundly in the grass, snoring like there was no tomorrow with her head against a bundle of Angel's vines for a pillow. The grass type leaned back and forth like a living cradle, and Mimi's golden gear poked out of the sea of vines on his head.

"How's he doing that while he's sleeping?" Maylene whispered at me.

Oh, thank the Legendaries, things were normal and not awkward. "I dunno. I think it's kind of built into him."

Cass and Buddy were standing watch, their eyes glowing in the night, and Princess was drooling all over Sunshine's arm while she cuddled next to him below that same tree he'd been sleeping under the majority of the day. The only one who wasn't asleep was Honey, who waved at me with an ever-widening grin, sparks flying out of his fingertips. I waved back and whispered that I'd come by to talk soon.

Mom was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, and waiting for me to come back in. I'd wanted to hold Maylene's hands, since I technically had like four minutes left even if the alarm had rung.

So instead, I just stood in front of her. "Sorry. My mom kind of ruined our special practice." It was still astonishing to me that what had made her climb up was the stupid nightstand. I wanted to kick that thing. "She kind of ruined the…" what even could I call this? It wasn't— it wasn't a mood, that implied something more than this was. Vibe, maybe? Coming up empty, I let out a frustrated groan. "She picked a really bad moment."

Maylene let out a little embarrassed laugh. "Yeah, she did. But you don't need to apologize, it's also my fault. I was kind of intense because it was our last… well, you of all people would get it."

"Hey," I whined in faux-offense. "What's that mean?"

She rolled her eyes at me. "Do I need to pull out today's texts and read them out?" Before waiting for an answer, she did. "And you wearing the same thing would be nice in a symbolism kind of way. It would rhyme. I like it when that happens—"

"No!" I laughed. "Wait, stop, I was joking!" My face was warm. Everything was so warm.

She didn't finish reading the text. "You're so easy to fluster, y'know?"

"Sure." I drew out the word and glanced back at the door. "If mom wasn't watching, I would have touched you to make it easier to grab the phone." Maylene stewed with those thoughts, hand clenching around the device. "Who's easy to fluster now, hm?"

"Whatever. It would have been a repeat of earlier, anyway. You're so slow. Like a Shuckle."

"That's just called normal human speed!" I protested a little too loud. Mom had probably heard that one.

"No, even for a normal human, you're really slow," she teased, teeth shining in the night as she smiled. "You're gonna need that treadmill."

"One day, I'll surprise you if you don't watch out."

"Yeah, when Lechonk grow wings." The playful atmosphere faded away a little as Maylene's stare turned tender. "Um. Listen, I know we won't be practicing for a while, but next time," she leaned in and whispered, "just as an exception, we can do fifteen minutes to get your time back."

I stood there stunned as Kadabra popped into existence. "Wh—wh—"

"See you later, dummy." She leaned a little further forward toward my forehead, which I couldn't help but bow, feeling a slight shift in the air.

Nothing came of it. Maylene disappeared in the wind, along with the psychic, and it was only now that the things she'd said registered in my mind.

D—dummy?

Dummy?!

How was I supposed to go to sleep now?



I hadn't slept.

My mother had thankfully not been weird about things when I came back in that night, but I'd gone back in my room rather early anyway to avoid the possibility.

I yawned as mom, Honey and I shuffled toward the school. I'd seen it while flying over Twinleaf, but it was my first time actually getting a good look up close. The school stood quietly in the early morning light, its brick facade catching the soft, golden hues of the morning sun. I was kind of too out of it to pay much attention, especially when it was so early. Even then, some kids were already here with their parents. People of all ages, from the little five-year-old pre-schoolers to the few jaded high schoolers hanging out in the corner of the schoolyard to adults moving out and about the school. I wondered if a few of those teenagers would be becoming trainers next year.

Part of me wanted to go and say hello as some kind of exercise in being more social and maybe make a few friends for the rest of the weekend, but I was too tired to do so, and I was needed in the kitchen anyway. The party hadn't officially kicked off—it would only do so at nine in the morning, so in two hours—but what we were going to do was essentially mass-produce food for the hundreds of people that would come.

"The thing about small towns like this is that everyone knows each other," mom had explained before we entered the yard. People kept greeting her on the way inside the building, accosting her at every turn, asking her how she was holding up with grandma's death, or asking to get to know me.

They knew she had a daughter—today was just the first time seeing her. Seeing me.

"You know, I'm sorry I never asked you," I said. We stepped through the school's entrance, the wooden double doors creaking slightly as they swung open. The foyer was welcoming and warm, a stark contrast to the crisp morning air outside. The floor was a mix of polished hardwood and well-worn tiles, their surfaces reflecting the soft, natural light that filtered in through the large windows flanking the entrance. Directly ahead, a wide staircase with sturdy banisters led to the upper floors, its steps worn and slightly concave from years of students hurrying up and down. "About grandma. I'm sorry."

"Oh." A sad smile stretched upon her face. "I'll miss her. She—"

"Sam!" a woman, maybe ten years younger, walked up to my mother. A small boy was behind her, pulling on the fabric of her loose skirt. "And who's this? Wait!" She gasped. "Your daughter? No way! And with an Electivire?"

Another round of introductions, of smiles, and of pleasantries, though this conversation was lasting longer than usual. I walked down the hall a little bit, feeling nostalgic for school—something I never thought could ever happen. Yeah, I had piano classes, but they weren't the same.

The little kid, who must have been five, six at most, pulled on my sleeve. "Hey, miss! Why is your face and arm like that? It's weird!" He pointed up at my burns with that big, wondrous curiosity only a child his age could have.

I smiled, crouching in front of him. "Well, you see, I have a Pokemon called Sunshine who I fought in Mount Coronet, and he nearly burned me to death when I caught him." Something shattered on the kid's face, and he started to tear up, glancing up at Honey a few feet behind us. "W—wait! That's not him, this is Honey! Honey! And it doesn't actually hurt in the moment! Because you have this thing called adrenaline, okay? And that tricks your body into not focusing on the pain so you canrespondtothethreataswellaspossible—"

Man, he was already crying. Someone tapped my shoulder behind me—my mother and Honey, the former of which looked to be very angry at the fact that I'd made a kid burst into tears while the latter was horrified that he'd been compared to Sunshine.

"Sorry?" I tried.

Was I bad with kids, now?

A/N: Up next, the Cecilia Interlude…s? Maybe there'll be two.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A., Bridie, Christopher M
 
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Interlude - Hollow Vessel New
INTERLUDE - HOLLOW VESSEL

The curtains open.

Something blinds her; Cecilia grips the armrests of her theater chair as light overwhelms her entire being. It is dazzling, bright enough to have a weight. Like when the sun shines on your skin on a scorching summer day, or the glare of fresh snow catches your eye and makes you squint in reflex as you groan at the coming headache. She inhales sharply through her teeth and flinches back as it basks all around her, but soon, her eyes adapt to the light.

Color. She sees color, a kaleidoscope of hues flooding her vision, each one sharper and more vivid than the last. Reds, blues, browns, yellows—shades she'd only ever imagined in her mind since Coronet—now burst to life before her eyes, and it is so overwhelming that she has to shut her eyes and brace herself before opening them again.

A theater. Cecilia is inside a theater. She doesn't know how she already knew this—even before she had come to, the knowledge had just wormed itself into her head the moment she came to consciousness. Sparkling letters spelling out 'FIRST DEATH' shine high above the stage, glittering in every color. Her legs and arms twitch, but her body feels impossibly heavy, as if anchored by a weight she cannot lift. It's as though her very flesh is bound by the force of a hundred tons, the weight of the world pressing down on her, immobilizing her to a standstill. Yet, despite the crushing burden, she breathes, she lives, she sees. Every sensation that defines life pulses through her, reminding her that she is still here, still alive, still whole, even as her body remains trapped under the invisible weight. Cecilia tries her neck next, realizing that she can actually move it. All around the Unovan, filling every single seat in the theater, are other… Cecilias. They come in all ages, from her as a newborn, to a toddler, to a child, to a teenager. Each version of herself stares forward, motionless, as if waiting for something.

There is a loud sound that comes from everywhere around her, an obnoxious blare that grinds her ears like a malfunctioning microphone. Lights dim, leaving the stage blank for a few seconds until headlights far behind her shine down on something that leaves Cecilia trembling in terror. The kind of fear that made you hyperaware of the flesh and bones in your body, a reminder that at the end of it all, you were nothing but a neatly packaged bag of meat who could die any second; a reminder that you were weak; a reminder that you were just a girl despite having saved the world and seen the realm of the dead. It is the primal fear of death.

She thought she'd lost that fear, but she had not. Not when her childhood was playing itself out before her very eyes. The stage had changed from wooden to a garden Cecilia recognized very well. It sits on the top floor of one of her father's apartments and oversees much of Castelia. It is here that she sees herself, a little seven-year-old child leaning against the protective glass as she stares down, down, and ever further down into the city below her.

She remains alone for a good while, sniffling by herself among the flowers. She hiccups and sobs and whines and sniffles and asks herself what she needs to do to be better? To be the kind of person who fits her father's view of a perfect daughter? Listening to herself go through this was like having nails hammered into her wrist, looking at it like having salt poured into her eyes.

Cecilia squirms in her seat. She tries to turn her head away, but it's stuck there, transfixed on what is about to play out. As a last attempt, she tries to yell, but there is only an empty, desperate gasp of air that comes out of her. There is nothing, absolutely nothing she can do.

So with an internal, crushing sigh, Cecilia resigns to the inevitable and prepares to take it.

This has been a common theme, as of late.

Amy Saunier and her brother Mark walk out of the roof access door, and hatred surges within her as they approach her younger self from behind. Don't trust them, she wants to yell. They are snakes, slithering through the grass with forked tongues and venom in their words. They coil around your heart, squeezing until you can't breathe, whispering sweet, comfortable lies that seep into your mind like a slow-acting toxin and keep you domesticated. Yet, again, nothing but hot air comes out of her burning mouth. Amy is her age, but she's a tiny little thing. Her little Pichu, her mother used to call her. Her hair is golden blonde like the sun in the sky, and she looks genuinely sad. Mark is a teenager by this point—seven years older than her. He's twitchy, nervous, and uncomfortable in his own skin like he has been for the last fourteen years of his life.

Fourteen.

He will be leaving for his journey soon. Already, he is being accustomed to his Deino, and it is not going well. Father always had plenty to say about that, and he's been pushing himself given the bandage around the old bite mark on his arm.

"Cece! What are you doing alone up here?" Amy asks, hand stroking her hair. Back then, she hadn't lost her Kalosian accent. It is fading but still thick.

The sudden presence makes her younger self jump, but the love and care in her eyes when she sees that it is Amy touching her makes Cecilia sick to her stomach. Years. Years of this song and dance, years of comfort, years of love, years of friendship, years of safety—fake. All fake. Rage is followed by tears that well in the corner of her eyes, yet she cannot close them. It is different when seeing them so young. Harder than when she had her confrontation with her in Veilstone to cut her out of her life like a limb undergoing necrosis.

"I'm hiding," the younger Cecilia whimpers. "Father was lecturing me." Ah, the lectures. Dozens of minutes of uninterrupted screaming, calling her worthless in every way possible until he ran out of energy and told her to get out of his sight. "I messed up in my tutoring; I forgot what the capital of Oblivia was."

Amy pats her head and gives Cecilia a smile that gives her the strength to stand. "Your dad is always so strict. He sucks. I'd make my mom adopt you if I could! I'll ask her tonight!"

"He—he wants to see you again," Mark says. Always, that spineless little worm. She couldn't see it then, but she sees him now. Lackey. A slave to their father both in childhood and in adulthood. "He made us go look for you. He was—" Mark flinches, and the hate within her melts away, like she's looking at a fellow survivor of a war she's fought. "He was really loud." He clenches his left arm, and his eye twitches.

The younger Cecilia freezes, and trembling like a newborn Deerling, she asks, "w—what time is it?"

"It's 2:34 in the afternoon, Cece," Mark replies. "You're late for your piano lesson."

The hope shatters in her eyes as it already had a thousand times before. She turns toward Amy, dejected and resigned to what she knows will probably come next. "Can your mom take me now?"

Mark interrupts whatever answer is coming. "It'll make things worse, Cece," he says. "And he'll take it out on m—" he clenches a fist. "I'm sorry. I—just come back down. Just go along with him, and it'll be easy. I'll be in the room with you, okay?" He crouches and holds onto her hands. "I'll stay with you. So let's do it together. And we'll talk to mom, okay?"

"Promise?"

"I promise." He smiles at her. It is hollow.

The younger Cecilia nods, and her older self's nails dig into her armrests.

Everything goes dark, and Cecilia hears rattling on stage. How is this happening? It felt too real to be a dream, but it couldn't be real. She can't even feel her Pokeballs on her belt, and she can actually see color. Something she hadn't even been able to focus on.

The stage suddenly brightens, and Amy is gone when she can see again. All who remain are Cecilia and Mark, standing beside her mother on a balcony on one of the lower floors. She doesn't even look at their faces as she sits on an old leather couch with a twirling glass of red wine in hand and watches the city through the protective glass. Cecilia faintly remembers when she used to point at all the little things they could see from up here. They would almost make a game of it where the one who won was the person who found the most interesting thing.

That woman is gone. Cecilia doesn't know exactly what happened to this day, but her mother is empty. Stress lines run across her face, and strands of her hair are already turning white. Her cheeks are gaunt, the life has died in her eyes, and she wears long sleeves even if it's a hot summer day and she's on a balcony—

Something clicks.

Something just clicks.

Cecilia remembers months ago, when she told Grace in Eterna City about her mother and father in detail for the first time on that tram ride, minutes before they confronted Amy. She remembers telling her that her father had never gotten physically violent. With her, that was still true to this day.

But what about her mother? What about her brother?

As Mark and his sister beg their mom to talk to Clarence, memories she had buried beneath the sand come to the surface as a giant wave that Cecilia cannot stop. Sunglasses, scarves, gloves, long sleeves, tights—had she suppressed everything? Had she just not wanted to see?

She was still there. Living with that pig to this day.

Her mother's voice is barely a whisper when she says no, as if she cannot even fathom going against Clarence's will. It's like staring into a mirror—

Cecilia flinches back when the lights turn off again. The bright letters from the beginning turn on again, spelling out 'INTERMISSION,' and Cecilia regains control of her neck and mouth as a darkened, writhing shadow and six red eyes appear on the stage. It is purple gas given form, writhing, shaking, vibrating with every breath.

"What is this?" she screams for answers. "Where am I?!"

The being makes a noise as if it's clicking its tongue. "Don't interrupt the intermission now." The voice is heavy and grave. Like it is being spit out of something old who has weight in this world. It is somehow three things at once. The creaking of old wood, vulnerable yet somehow stable after decades; the groan of ancient stone shifting in caverns, always larger in scale than you think you can fathom; droplets of water falling a hundred thousand times just to carve through an inch of rock—persistence, perseverance given a voice.

It is obvious now that this was a ghost's doing. Cecilia struggles against the invisible force keeping her still until she needs to heave for every breath like it's her last.

"Are you done?" It asks, and there are two distinct whispers that follow, echoing the same statement.

There's nothing she can do.

There's never anything she can do.

"Frustrating, is it not?" The beast stands completely still on stage, and every nerve in Cecilia's body tells her to run. Had she still been able to register the fear of death, she wouldn't have been able to think straight. "To be such a passive actor within the world."

It's at times like these that images of Grace flash in her mind. She always knew what to do next, even if it was stupid and shortsighted and strange and every little thing that made her, her— something snaps her attention back to the creature, and Cecilia's eyes sting.

"Like mother like daughter. An interesting thought," it speaks again. "It is true that children take much after their parents—and I have had many. A shame that this is what you learned of it, but it isn't your fault."

"Just… tell me what's going on," Cecilia begs. Somehow, she hates it here more than Coronet. "Please."

The six-eyed being shakes its body as if to mimic shaking its head. "It wouldn't do to give you all the answers, Cecilia Obel." She cringes at the last name like she always does. "For once, you will not be led to water; for once, you will not be made to drink. You will forge your own path."

That's what she had been trying to do for the last two weeks in the wild with her team. She didn't need any of this!

"Please," it scoffs. "If there's one thing you like to do when you're out of answers, it's to run away in hopes of dying or being saved." The words feel like a sword has been lodged through her heart, like she's being gutted like a Magikarp. "Even now, I bet a tiny part of you hopes that the girl is going to come chasing after you atop her fairy and that everything will go back as it once was. No more of this. I have seen enough."

"How long have you been watching me?" Cecilia knows that the ghost would be able to figure out that she wanted information, given that it could read her thoughts. Is this a mass illusion of some kind? Like that Mismagius in Eterna Forest? This feels like it's going to be a whole lot worse.

It ignores her. "You saw your mother grow to be a shell of her former self; how she made herself subservient to your father. It was the only relationship you knew." One of the echoing voices makes a heavy sigh akin to someone mourning. "I've parsed through what makes you. I know that what you had wasn't the same; there was no violence between you two, physical or otherwise." There's a pause. "It is, however, your subconsciously learned normal. And who can blame you? Poor little thing."

"Don't pity me," she tries to fight back. If there's one thing that can still light the fire of opposition in her, it's her family. "I freed myself! I—"

"Is one ever free from their parents' burden, I wonder?" it says slowly as if to ponder. As if it actually didn't know. "But you didn't even do that, did you? You came up with a plan, yes, but—" it pauses, "don't worry, we'll get there. For now, answer me this question: what do you like to do in your life?"

What did she like? What kind of game was this? Who was this?

"I like Pokemon Battling. Cities. Politics. Dancing. Spending time with my Pokemon." Even if that had been difficult, as of late. "I like… I—" she thinks back to the fun things she's done with Grace before she shuts down those thoughts. "Isn't that enough? That's enough, isn't it?!"

Red eyes squint and all converge at her. "Did I ever say it wasn't?" it says, and her mouth goes dry. "The doubt was already there. It festers in you, growing little by little."

"Shut up."

"You like dancing because those were the only times your father ever smiled at you." Crushing. "You like cities because they hold onto the remnants of who your mother used to be." It hurts. "You like battling and spending time with your Pokemon! Good job! Every trainer is the same as you. And to you, it will always be a means to an end first and foremost—a method of gathering political power. Speaking of politics, you want to get into a high position of power to get revenge on your father, even if perhaps you might obtain the betterment of Unova along the way. It would be a nice bonus, wouldn't it?" That—that wasn't true—how did it know all of this? How had it dissected her? "All of your life, you have been defined by one, then two beings. First your father, and now that girl has been added to the mix." Cecilia isn't sure what that emotion when it says 'girl' is, and she is in no state of mind to be able to tell. "You are a pale reflection of what she wants you to be, and without even her, what are you? What remains? A hollow vessel." The words hang in the air and singe her ears, for she knows they are the truth. "Today, I will teach you to break those chains."

"Why?"

"Because I am weak to pathetic beings in need of help, especially kin," it says after a long pause, two eyes softening at their edges. "Because you remind me of someone." Two others glisten with something that can only be described as nostalgia. "Because seeing you flailing around when there is so much potential within you angers me." The last two offer her a rage so potent she finds it difficult to breathe.

She says nothing. Can't say anything.

"The damage will not be undone with just this," the ghost says in a warning tone. "Your hand will not be held; I simply allow you the opportunity to free yourself. And trust me," it mutters menacingly, "it will be painful; I do not coddle. But do not fret." The ghost smiles. "Being empty means that you can be anything; it is better to be empty, if one wishes to be reborn."

It disappears, leaving her with a few answers but ten times more questions.

The scene shifts once more. What remains when the lights come back on is her father's office—and the sight of it is still so triggering she wants to dig out her eyes. She can't look at him, can't take the sight of him in, even if she can't close her eyes. He is in the shape of a human, but might as well be a monster. A thing.

"Get out of the room, Mark," his voice booms so loudly that Cecilia wants to get up and leave the theater.

Mark doesn't even try to fight, because how can he? He abandons her there, breaking their promise.

That day, something in Cecilia died—not her body, but the spark of her mind. The childlike wonder that was in every glance, every smile, evaporated as if it had never existed. The imaginative fire that once danced in her eyes grew cold and distant, leaving behind an emptiness where dreams, love, and curiosity had once flourished.

And she has to watch.

She has to watch all of it alone.

She isn't hit. For an hour, she is pushed, she is screamed at, she is berated, and she and her mother are threatened; the individuality is ripped out of her, piece by piece with every scream, and never returns.

Cecilia never misses a lesson again. Subservience is all that remains.

Time fast forwards, yet she somehow registers all of the foggy memories she had suppressed or forgotten, like the vast majority of her childhood. What had been impressions, images, blotches, and stories are now so vivid for her to see. Months pass in minutes, and again and again, the pattern forms.

Mark leaves to become a trainer and answers the phone less and less. He almost never visits. One taste of freedom, and he has abandoned her.

She is broken.

Cecilia can't go to a normal school anymore; she can only get educated by private tutors. All of her friends are lost save for Amy. Sometimes, they go months without seeing each other.

She is broken.

Her mother looks at her like she doesn't exist every time she tries to get close. One day, she screams at her to leave her alone and to take a hint. Cecilia never tries again despite the sincere apology that comes that night. The words 'I love you' feel hollow when she hears them.

She is broken.

Clarence compares her to the children of his business rivals and constantly calls her useless unless she does everything perfectly. Sometimes, rarely, that happens, and the affirmation he gives sustains her another month.

She is broken.

And she is broken.

And she is broken.

And she is broken.

Until there is nothing left but the fragments of her spirit, scattered like shards of glass that have long since ceased to reflect light, nearly ground to dust that was spread across miles and miles of time.

She has to move to Sinnoh, away from everything she's known, to marry a boy three years older than her. She has never spoken a single word to him. It is overwhelming, but she manages to keep it in by taking refuge in Amy's friendship. Those phone calls are her lifeline.

She tells her to have sex with him.


She is broken.

Again.

Again.

Again until—

"Did he send you?"

"Did what? Who are you even talking about?"

"Don't act dumb! My father! Did he send you?!"

"Why would your dad send me? And to do what? I don't even know what you're talking about; you're making no sense!"


The Floaroma memory in the bathroom stall. It fills her with nostalgia and happiness at what once had been, and agony and melancholy at what was lost. There Grace was, so young, innocent, her heart full of kindness; without a blemish or scar on her skin, with the eyes a fifteen-year-old girl should actually have.

Cecilia gets it, now.

She understands that she had been dead until this moment. That Grace had come in the form of hope had given her a new lease on life—


The transition from sleep to wakefulness was lethargic. For nearly two minutes, Cecilia lay in her sleeping bag, tears in the corner of her eyes and unable to blink the image of the theatre away from her mind's eye. Rain pattered gently overhead above a barrier Slowking had created, and thunder boomed overhead.

The colors were gone, leaving the world a desolate wash of monochrome grays, whites, and blacks. The sky above was a heavy shroud of dark gray, thick and unyielding, with no hint of the sun behind it. The clouds hung low, swollen with rain, their edges blurred by the steady downpour that seemed to merge sky and earth into one seamless, sodden mass. The rain fell in endless sheets, a constant drumming that muted all other sounds, turning the world into a depressing blur of wetness and shadow.

It had been raining for the past two days on route 221, the southernmost route in Sinnoh. The route itself was a patch of isles much like the Iron Islands, isolated from the outer world with rarely any trainer venturing here. That did not mean that there weren't any human settlements here, however. Plenty of fishing towns dotted the islands, most of them with a hundred to two hundred inhabitants at most. Cecilia knew that Sinnoh was far more efficient with their land, so humans were nearly all grouped into the largest cities, but in a few places around the country, these small settlements—most of which weren't even on any maps, she had checked—managed to carve out a life for themselves and forge their own paths.

Cecilia groggily woke up from her dream and sat up in her sleeping bag. She'd settled in a small beach cove for the night, away from any civilization or unsuspecting wanderers. The ground was strewn with a soft blanket of sand and fallen leaves, and a faint mist lingered in the air as the waves crashed against the beach like a song that barely broke through the endless rain.

Up early today, aren't we? Slowking was sitting a little ways away from her against one of the many stone outcroppings that lined the cove. The dull rays of light passing through the thick clouds were hitting the lower side of his face. You were squirming in the last hour or so; I was considering waking you.

"It's alright, thank you, Slowking." Cecilia rubbed her eyes and frowned. "I just had the strangest of nightmares."

Looked like it. That was it. There were no helpful comments, no puns, no worried looks, or a hint of a smile. What shall we do today? Scizor and Toxicroak are out training; Talonflame and Zolst are out hunting… I don't know where Lehmhart is, but he can't have gone far like last time. Didn't hear any engines.

"I know where he is." The Unovan sighed as she got up and crawled from her sleeping bag. "That's the first thing I'll do today. That we'll do today," she corrected. "Then, we'll try to get the team together for tonight." Every time she tried to make them stick together, only Talonflame and Slowking remained. The former because she genuinely wanted to try, and the latter because even after everything, he didn't wish for Cecilia to die to some wild Pokemon.

The others couldn't bear to look at her. The wound of betrayal was still fresh, and every time they looked at her new state—the empty eyes, the scars, her voice, her body language—it was a fresh reminder of how she had thrown her life away for revenge. And she wanted to try to fix it so desperately, but she didn't know how to take that first step. How to make everything normal again.

Things were progressing at a slow pace, but they were progressing. The problem was that at this rate, it was years that she would need to reforge her bonds with her team, not months as she had hoped. This trip was supposed to be the first step in all of that, but she only had a set amount of time before she had to head back—

Though if she couldn't succeed, there was no point in coming back in time for the Conference. She wouldn't even win a single battle. It would have to be for Chase. To accompany him when he would face Byron and give his pitch.

And Grace…

Cecilia chased away those thoughts, putting them in a box to open later. That skill no longer came easy, but after weeks of this state, she'd had enough practice, even if its capacity was shallower than before.

Not another round of apologies tonight, I hope, Slowking pleaded with a yawn. Even I get tired of those.

Cecilia bit her tongue as she grabbed a cereal bar and water from her backpack. "No. I just want us to spend time as a team for one night. Just one night."

Well, I'd be a willing participant, but the others probably won't be, especially not Zolst or Lehmhart. You know this.

She looked at him, eyes shut as emotional pain coursed from her heart to her extremities. "I know. I'm… I'm trying my best," Cecilia said with a little sad laugh. "I just want to atone."

Slowking's eyes narrowed with guilt. I know, my lady. I know.

She ate breakfast in silence, like every morning. Usually, Slowking would have led with topics of conversation, or she would have talked to him about Gr—

No. Not now. She'd been doing so well not thinking of her; that dream must have put her in a weird state of mind.

Oh! Also, a child came over earlier in the morning, the psychic said. He was crying and lost, so Talonflame took him back toward the village west of here—the one you warned about sticking around for a bit. I thought it'd be best if you knew. Apparently she got him back to his grandfather safe and sound.

Her heart eased at that, but she couldn't help but notice none of them had woken her up for this. Yet Cecilia said nothing of the sort. "That's good," was all she could muster. If her Pokemon thought she shouldn't be woken up, then that meant she needed to work harder to get them back.

"Should we go?" Cecilia asked. "To that village, I mean."

The water type shrugged as they began to walk. He waved a hand, playing with the water along the beach as they traveled. I don't know. I'm surprised you want anything to do with them; you said we'd stay away from civilization.

"It'd be something different, at least. I'm…" she was bored. Bored out of her mind. Two weeks in the wild with her team shunning her and absolutely nothing to do. "You know, in small towns like this, Pokemon of your caliber can be a great help. I saw it in the Iron Islands. Just having a competent psychic could do wonders."

Slowking inclined his head. Well, it is something to do.

Cecilia kicked at some sand. "I—I don't know why, but I'm thinking about horrible things today." She laughed dryly at her own predicament. "Clarence, and my issues with Grace."

Must have been that nightmare, he tried. How much do you remember?

"I was in a theatre…" she mumbled. "And—and I was being shown my life by this… this ghost." Her voice grew more and more assured as she went on. "Yes, I remember now! It was—it was so clear I thought it was an illusion!"

He placed his hands behind his back and let out a pensive hum. Do you think it has to do with the Dusk? You've had nightmares about it before.

Cecilia tapped a finger on her crossing arms. "That could be it, but none of the nightmares were like that." She exhaled long and hard. "I'm just glad it's over."

They traveled out of the cove, up a hill, and toward the more mountainous parts of this nameless island. Sand gradually gave way to fresh soil, and trees began to populate the landscape as the rain continued to pour relentlessly on top of Slowking's protective barrier. Cecilia knew Lehmhart; she had seen him leave her side for hours on end, and they had exchanged few words since he'd agreed to fly her here. While in the air, she couldn't help but notice the intrigue in the ground type's body language as they passed over the ruins of what seemed to be an ancient settlement.

As she walked past the remnants of broken wood and crumbling stone, Cecilia squeezed the wrapper of her cereal bar into a tight ball and shoved it into her pocket, her thoughts drifting to the history buried beneath her feet. Golett and Golurk were attracted to defunct, dilapidated places, and Lehmhart was no different. Music was in the air—a long string of lament that prickled Cecilia's skin and forced her to try not to cry as her own Pokemon was doing. Not with tears, but with a song.

The Golurk was kneeling with a pair of Starly perched on his finger, a Furret coiled around his feet, a Poliwag and a Psyduck dancing together next to the remains of a collapsed home, and a Krabby closing and opening its pincers to the rhythm of the music. They all looked at her when she stepped closer to them and fled in an instant, flying, skittering, or running away as if she didn't belong here.

No, not as if. She just didn't.

Lehmhart's head rotated toward her, and the light went out of his eyes and runes. The ghost type collapsed on the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut, sending dust and debris into the air and a gentle rumble below Cecilia's feet.

Looks like he's not in the mood to talk, Slowking so helpfully noticed.

"I made his audience flee as well; that didn't help." With another defeated sigh added onto the endless pile, the Unovan calmly treaded toward Lehmhart. Her fingers traced the dusty remains of a destroyed wall. She paused for a moment, almost absently, and began to rub the dust between her fingertips. Delay, delay, delay. Always these meaningless actions to avoid getting to the heart of things until they could no longer be ignored, and she took actions far too drastic for everyone around her. She'd had enough. "Lehmhart."

He didn't even react to his name being called. Cecilia had apologized to him more times than she could count, but as Slowking and Talonflame had said, it mattered not that she truly meant it. She needed to show it through her actions, and yet none of them were giving her the opportunity to.

"I didn't know you were going to have an audience today; I would have waited if I had." Her hand went to touch the side of the ghost type's arm, but it stopped mere inches from making contact. Inhaling through clenched teeth, Cecilia pushed and put her full hand on the construct's body. "Do they come by often to listen to you?"

Nothing.

"I wish I could have been there to listen."

Finally, movement. The gentle churn of internal industry, a delicate hiss as his eyes and runes flickered back to life. Cecilia let go of a shaky breath while Golurk slowly sat up, revealing an indentation in the ground where he had let himself fall. A single, massive finger came to poke her in the stomach, pushing her back a few steps as she clung to the digit with a soul full of love. Whenever Lehmhart spoke, he did so in song. Hisses and hums, low rumbles, the grinding echoes of ancient gears and woven string.

"You would like that?" she asked.

He replied with a tentative yes, and Cecilia felt lighter already. Not everything was lost. Even Slowking was trying not to look happy.

"I assume it's too late now, given that I messed it up. I always—" she didn't finish that sentence. "I'll try my best to make them like me next time."

You haven't always been the best with the wildlife, Slowking said. There's a horrible joke to be made here about Talonflame and Zolst's activities while this was happening—

"Slowking!" Cecilia yelled with a huff.

The Golurk looked down, making a little dejected sound. Not only did Zolst still despise him, but Cecilia just—she couldn't pack enough food for a Hydreigon and the rest of her team, all while staying here for weeks. Both Lehmhart and Zolst had refused to fly her back to Sandgem to buy more using her LTIP salary, and so both the dragon and Talonflame had started hunting for their food in the last two days.

Ah. Sorry, buddy. He patted Lehmhart on the leg.

"Here's what we're going to do," Cecilia declared, putting as much determination in her voice as possible. "Why don't we go to that village so you can cheer up and play music? Then Slowking and I can stick around and see if any of the people there need any help. Afterward, we'll go and buy food in Sandgem—if that's okay?"

The construct gave it some thought, but nodded.

"Talonflame will stop killing things without an issue if she's asked, and I'll try to convince Zolst. You don't have to worry," she soothed him. "Your friends will be fine after today."

Another agreement, this time stronger, louder, and more assured.

Progress was being made, even if it was at a snail's pace.



They said Unova had more cities and towns than any other country. With so many refugees coming in from Orre after the war and immigration booming in the decades since, the region had catapulted to the most populous on Earth, eking a little ahead of Kanto-Johto and Galar.

It wasn't… good. It came at the expense and suffering of others. Outside of a few designated cities, Sinnoh, meanwhile, only had towns this small. The fishing village clung to the edge of the coastline, nestled between craggy cliffs and the restless sea. Weathered wooden cottages dotted the shoreline, their roofs thatched and worn by years of salt and wind. Narrow dirt paths wound through the village, connecting homes to the small, creaking docks where fishing boats bobbed gently in the tide. The air was thick with the scent of brine and seaweed. There was a bigger dock as well, a long pier that stretched further than any others where bigger boats from Sandgem could anchor and unload supplies.

The villagers knew of her already—she had made herself known when settling on this island as soon as she'd arrived—but they still looked at her like she was an alien. Young children hid behind their parents' legs, adults glared at her as if she did not belong, and even the Wingull on the roofs looked like they were stalking her. She had not waltzed in with a massive Golurk at her side—just with Slowking—but it looked like playing music was going to be a little difficult. Cecilia knew nothing of the countryside. All she'd ever known were cities and the life of the ultra-rich.

"I feel their stares like daggers pressed at the back of my neck," she whispered.

You're a stranger in a land where there are probably five strangers a year at best, Slowking nonchalantly said. I'd like to see you try to get close to these people. The sarcasm in his tone was impossible to miss.

Cecilia sighed as they made it to one of the long piers stretching across a beach. She tried to imagine the blue of the ocean, but she'd already forgotten what that looked like. The memories had left her so quickly. "One thing's for sure, it's not going to take a single day. Poor Lehmhart…"

How did someone even approach people and meet someone new? Cecilia wondered as she sat at the edge of the pier, legs dangling above the low tide. Come to think of it, she had never done any of that. Not since she'd been taken out of school. Clarence had forced friends upon her, friends who she was glad she'd met now. Grace, Denzel, Chase and Mira had been the ones to approach her first. Even after that, she had never branched out and done anything else. Never tried to meet anyone else.

Like in the dream, she began to hug her knees as she stared at the endless ocean. "It's so hard, Slowking. It's so hard to be a person."

She did not look at the face he was making, but felt his dull claw on her shoulder. I know, he said.

"You know, that dream?" Cecilia asked. "I feel like it meant something. And I feel like it's been left incomplete."

If you're willing to talk, I shall listen. He sat down next to her with a tired sigh after having walked for so long and lifted up a trail of water to play with. Lately I've rarely seen you so focused on something that isn't—never mind, just go on.

"I don't know if it was my subconscious trying to talk to me or an actual ghost… but if that was the case, you would have felt it, no?" To a psychic, ghosts felt like holes in the world. Like looking at a missing part of a painting.

Surely, he said with a nod. It would need to get close to trap you in some kind of dream.

Cecilia didn't like it either way. When she closed her eyes, she could still see that theater. Still see the last embers of herself extinguished. For a while, she told Slowking about the details of the dream, vision, or whatever it was, and the psychic offered her more support than he had in weeks. She'd also released Lehmhart in the water, which was shallow enough to barely reach the bottom of his stomach. It felt good to have them both speak to her for once.

"It's a test of some kind, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do or what I'm supposed to look for," Cecilia said. "I—I have never known what to do without someone to take charge. Someone for me to follow. It's how my brain works."

Or at least how it had been taught to work. It was easy to see why Azelf hated her now. She must have had potential when she'd gotten her half of the Shard (which should have been around Eterna City, by her estimate), but had squandered it completely.

There are no easy answers to this, he said. But first—why don't you start by going to talk to that child on the beach?

Cecilia glanced to her left and saw a young boy sitting in the sand, watching a freighter boat pass by the island. The Indigoan flag on its hull signaled that it was possibly on the way to Sandgem or Pastoria from Kanto-Johto. "Is that the one who was lost this morning?"

I think so, he said, squinting. Yep, that's him— Lehmhart interrupted Slowking with an angry hiss as smoke vented from his joints. What, kid? You're the one who was gone, don't blame me for not telling you!

Cecilia was already standing up and shuffling in the beach's direction, and both of her Pokemon followed her. Water dripped out of Lehmhart's body as he rose from the sea, and the boy looked up at him with wonder in his eyes while the nearby inhabitants—

She'd made a mistake.

Already, people were running to grab him as if she'd been about to attack him with her Pokemon—and maybe it did look that way. It was no longer only hate they looked at her with, but fear. Trembling men and women ready to protect their own at any cost, posturing as if they stood a chance. The few of them who owned Pokemon had them out already and prepared to attack, including the wild Wingull she had spotted earlier. Go away, leave us, you don't belong, nasty fucking ghost—in that moment, they hated her more than anything in the world, even when she tried apologizing and recalled her Golurk. Cecilia wasn't sure they even heard her.

Her voice didn't carry far enough.

They all went quiet when an older man with wisps of… white hair on his head? Either white or very clear. He slowly trudged through the gray sands, his hand raised in the air as if to signal them to be quiet.

"Young girl," he said, hand ruffling the boy's hair. He was short in stature, which his hunching did not help, but he commanded the respect of every villager. Cecilia guessed he must have been a leading figure of some sort—she didn't know how this place governed itself, even if it was legally Sandgem's land. "Would you kindly tell me what you were about to do with my grandson?"

Cecilia opened her mouth, but struggled to make a sound. So many hateful, suspicious gazes; so many people who didn't know her just like she didn't know herself. "I—I'm sorry," she finally said. "I just wanted to talk to him to see how he was doing. He got lost this morning."

"Ari, did you bother her?" He looked down at his grandson, who quietly shook his head. "Is the Talonflame who brought him back here yours, young lady?"

"She is."

"She lies!" someone in the back Cecilia couldn't make out yelled. And of course, she didn't have Talonflame with her to prove it. "You can't trust her, not when she has one of those." The statement was obviously aimed at her Golurk, who thankfully wasn't here to get his feelings hurt any longer.

"She's not lying—" the child tried, but was silenced by the others.

"He—" he's not a threat, she wanted to scream, to burn into this world, to defend his kindness, his honor, his tenderness. But how could she blame them? She'd come out of nowhere without a word because she didn't remember how to do anything alone without the comfort of texting or having her… girlfriend to have as a lifeline in case things went wrong. "I'm sorry for bothering you."

"I'll ask that you forgive us as well." A decent amount of people protested at that, but most stayed quiet. "We've had a bit of an issue with ghosts these past few months. Little pranks here and there at first, but they've grown a lot more unrestrained these past two weeks." The last two weeks? That was when she'd landed here. "When you arrived," he echoed her thoughts. "We all heard that massive Golurk land; the sound is difficult to miss."

"It's because of the bombs," someone else—a young woman—said. "Got a bunch of spirits fleeing south to avoid the bad memories, and they're taking it out on us."

Cecilia wasn't sure that was correct. Ghosts generally took much longer to form, but perhaps the scale of the death had sped the process up. She wouldn't see why in the world they would linger here, though, especially if the best they could do were pranks. Newborn ghosts who had not settled into themselves were often the most violent.

"I have nothing to do with this," she tried. "But if you don't want me here, I'll leave."

The old man's eyes widened a fraction. "Well, sorry for the insults thrown your way. I suppose we won't be seeing much of you, then."

Cecilia didn't answer. Instead, she left with her head down until she was back in the woods, walking until her feet hurt with Slowking silently following behind her. She walked, walked, and walked until she ended up back in the ruins of that previous town whose history she had no energy to figure out.

"I hate this," she quietly mourned.

I know, Slowking said, his inner voice just as muted as hers.

Cecilia clenched her fists, and her face contorted in rage. "And I hate myself and I hate the way I look at things and I hate that I don't see color anymore and I hate the way that I can barely feel anything but negativity and I hate that the world is so cold now and I hate that I feel so lost without her and I hate that everything I do feels hollow, that every smile, every word, is just an echo of what it used to be and I hate that I feel so invisible that a breeze could make me disappear and I hate this place and I hate my father and I hate this year for what it did to me and I hate that I look at my reflection and there's nothing behind my eyes and I hate that it feels that the last sixteen years of my life just happened in an instant and were so miserable and I—" she broke down into tears, wrapping Slowking in her arms just to feel something. "Oh God, what was it all for?" The abuse, the despondency, the pain, the hope, the love, the struggle, the fighting, the begging, the nuggets of happiness, the fighting, the fun, the fighting, the memories, the fighting, the fighting, the fighting, the fighting! Oh God, what was it all for? she asked herself again. "Sixteen years of nothing. Of whimpering, scared in a corner, followed by vacuum," she sobbed. "I hate that I'm alive, but I'm not."

Outside of her friends, what was she? She was a passing glance, a fleeting thought, the briefest flicker of something almost remembered and then forgotten a moment later.

She'd helped save the world. None of it mattered.

Wh—why don't we take it slow for now? the psychic tried. I'm sure Lehmhart won't be angry. What happened was our fault, but we had no way of knowing they'd have ghost problems.

If she'd been more personable, she would have gone into that town like Chase in the Iron Islands and been able to hold a conversation with anyone, meaning she would have figured it out eventually. It was her fault for thinking she could just bring a giant golem into a small town and think everything would be fine. As if a Golurk wouldn't terrify people who had never seen one before.

"Fine," she said. "Let's go to Sandgem."

That ghost, or that dream, or whatever it was.

She needed to see it again.



But nothing ever came.

Not when she went to sleep that night with her team either staring daggers at each other for actions she'd forced them to do, or trying their best to act normal, or ignoring her. Not the next day, nor the next after that. Cecilia even tried to sleep more throughout the day in hopes of plunging back into that dream, but while it was seared into her mind, she never managed to enter it again, even after an entire week. Not only that, but while she had progressed with her team, Zolst still wouldn't speak to her or anyone else on the team, and he wouldn't even eat the damn food that she'd bought. The most he cooperated with was sticking around and not just running away, so at least Cecilia had that in her favor. He wanted to stay, but she didn't know what it would take to bring him back. Not anymore.

She'd been so focused on it that she hadn't even asked to meet Chase in Sandgem—though she was in no mood to after how she had royally messed up her interaction with rural folk compared to him.

And on the seventh night of this—

Cecilia was woken up by a dull psychic spark within her mind. Of course, still no dream, but her awful mood was alleviated by the fact that her entire team was still here, sleeping or strewn about the beach. Like usual, Slowking was watching over her, keeping one eye open while he slept. Talonflame was snuggled next to Cecilia's sleeping bag, her warmth seeping past the fabric. Toxicroak and Scizor were speaking in hushed tones on the beach, and the poison type kept prodding at his shell with her claws to see how resistant it would be to her strongest of poisons, a game she'd had for weeks with him. Lehmhart was with them, watching from a distance as he quietly hugged his knees. Even Zolst was lying against the sand, occasionally growling at what must have been a dream.

Sorry to wake you, but someone's approaching, Slowking said. Pretty sure it's that same kid.

He was no empath, but he had learned a few tricks up his sleeve to know when people other than ghosts were coming by. Tripwire barriers so thin and light no one would ever know they stepped over them was one. Sure enough, the boy—Ari—showed himself in the alcove and froze the moment he saw the number of powerful Pokemon within it. Immediately, Cecilia sobered up from her half-asleep state and recalled her starter before he could wake up and scream the fear of death into the child.

The rest of her team were more curious than anything, save for Talonflame, who had already taken a liking to Ari. Now that she could focus on him, even in the dead of night, he was short-haired, somewhat tanned—though it was hard to tell with her vision—and looked like this was his first ever delve into the world outside of his village. Talonflame wrapped a wing around Ari's back and gently cooed at him while Cecilia got up and prepared to face him.

She wouldn't have been nervous had that dream not put these thoughts into her head. She'd come here to heal the bond with her team and figure out how to not depend on one person so much, but this trip had turned into a real existential mess.

The Unovan crouched in front of Ari and gave him her best smile, but all that got her was a fearful look. "Are you lost again?" she asked.

"Nuh-uh," he whispered as he shook his head. "I was grounded for a week, but I managed to run away again 'cause I wanted to see your ghost."

Her head turned toward Lehmhart, still sitting silently in the distance, one of his fingers shyly poking into the sand and tracing random shapes. "You're here without anyone knowing?" He answered her with a nod, and she sighed. "That's… bad." Cecilia's fake smile turned genuine, and the fear melted off the child's face. "But since you're already here, you can meet him." Her hand brushed a tiny prickle off his shoulder and a leaf off his hair, and he beamed so brightly that she hyped herself up for not messing up the interaction. "But only for five minutes, okay? Then I'm bringing you back. If your parents are awake, they must be worried sick."

Ari's eyes gazed down at his feet. "I don't have parents. I only have grandpa."

"O—oh," Cecilia said. "That's—it's—" Goodness gracious, she was horrible at this. "I'm sure your grandpa loves you very much."

Ari pouted. "He does, even if he's annoying about not letting me leave."

"You want to leave here?"

"Yes! This place sucks, and nothing ever happens!" he yelled. "It's why I keep running away! I tried getting on one of the boats that deliver us stuff from Sandgem once, but I was caught midway through the trip, and grandpa had to come and pick me up!" Cecilia hid her wince. That sounded like one hell of a day. Still, it made sense that he looked at the horizon in Sandgem's direction so yearningly now. "I was super duper grounded for that one, nothing like this week. And then I had to go to church and pray to some stupid sea God called Lugia all the time when I was usually allowed to skip. Let me tell you, if Lugia was a good Sea God, he'd let me ride on his back and take me to the mainland! One day, I'll make it with or without his help!"

Talonflame chittered out a laugh, and the glint in her eye told Cecilia that she was thinking about carrying this child into the sky. He was small enough, but there was just no way. They had no saddle; he would most definitely fall and his body would shatter against the unforgiving earth below.

Cecilia started to lead Ari toward Golurk, who waved—each movement of his hand created a small gust of wind that blew away minute grains of sand that glittered under the clear moonlight. For a while, Ari just touched him all over while Toxicroak mocked the golem for being so bashful about being admired. Slowking tried to distract him with horrid jokes, and Talonflame showed him tricks using her well-coordinated fire feathers. Scizor didn't seem that interested and watched from afar, but still—

It felt like the night she'd wanted a week ago, even if Zolst couldn't participate.

"Why is Lehmhart your favorite, I wonder?" Cecilia asked.

"His name is Lehmhart?!" He slightly mispronounced the word. "That sounds so cool! I bet he's strong as heck!" Ari started to punch and kick the air.

If only he knew that he could also fly.

"I like ghosts!" he said. "They're my favorite type, but everyone's scared of 'em. One day I'll have a team full of happy ghosts and show my village that there's no reason to hate them." Then, he looked up at her. "You kind of look like a ghost, lady. Wait! I never asked you your name!"

"It's Cecilia," she said with a smile. "And I think it's about time we bring you home—"

At the mention of the word "home," Cecilia's eyes narrowed, catching sight of a glowing plume in the distance where Ari's village should have been. Her team immediately sensed the shift, their playful demeanor vanishing in an instant. This feeling, Cecilia knew all too well. Despite all the soul-searching, the struggle to understand who she was, and the mistakes she had made at the village, the looming disaster felt all too familiar.

A threat.

And with the first ounce of familiarity in three weeks, Cecilia felt her inner self grow comfortable—something she had nearly forgotten. It was like coming home after a long day at work. A satisfied sigh left her lips, and her cold hand wrapped around Ari's.

"Listen," she said, pointing up. "Do you see that?"

The little boy squinted until his eyes widened. Not in panic, but in awe. "Woah! What is that? The lights are so cool! It's so purple…"

"I want you to stay here with…" she glanced toward her team. There were odds that this was a ghostly phenomenon and that the pranks that elderly man had spoken about had now turned lethal. The problem was that she wasn't sure if leaving him here with one of her Pokemon would be safer than taking him with her and keeping him within the safety of Slowking's barrier.

He should stay behind, Slowking said as if he could read her thoughts. What he might see could traumatize him.

Right. People did not normally see so much death. Mangled body parts strewn feet away from torsos; the endless screams and faces of people who begged not to die as they soiled themselves; the liters of blood pouring out of every wound; every decapitated head; every amputated leg; every body folded into shapes that shouldn't have been possible; the snapping of broken bones— her breath hitched in her throat, and her eyes snapped open.

She'd thrown herself back in Coronet for a moment. She looked at her right palm and found it bleeding from how tightly she'd clenched her fist.

"You should stay here with Lehmhart," Cecilia finally said, meeting her Pokemon's eyes. Her next look went to Talonflame, who immediately blurred into the air with an enormous burst of wind that scattered sand in the wind and went to scout ahead. "I'll go check out your village. Now stay put, okay?"

"But I wanna see the lights!" he whined, all cute and pouty.

"If you do, I'll let you go on a ride on Talonflame's back when we come back. But not too high off the ground."

"Can I go as fast as she just left?"

"We'll see," Cecilia replied with a smile. At least she was so used to death that she could appear calm in these moments and not make Ari panic. "Now, go play with Lehmhart. You can call him Lehmy."

Cecilia's face hardened the moment she turned toward the village. When they made it out of the alcove, she recalled all of her Pokemon save for Slowking, who raised a platform and brought them high into the air. She could see it better from up here, but the plume was obscuring everything around and within the village.

"Do you sense anything—" her eyes swiveled to Slowking, whose mouth was agape. She had only seen the psychic afraid once, and that was when she'd been about to die. "How bad?"

Very bad. Astronomically bad. 'We stand absolutely no chance' bad! he yelled. You have to leave.

Down below, she could hear panicked screams and people running through the smoke, desperate to escape whatever had come down to rain terror upon their town. She could see hints of Gastly, Shuppet and other weak ghosts chasing them out of the smoke, whose smell was reaching them now even if they were in Slowking's bubble. It carried the stench of decay, like rotting vegetation mixed with the metallic tang of burnt chemicals. The odor was thick and suffocating, curling in her throat and making her eyes water. Cecilia pulled her shirt over her nose as Slowking doubled, tripled, quadrupled his bubble, but it only barely helped.

No one escaping it was dying. Their skin wasn't rotting or melting off, nor was blood pouring out of their mouths, eyes or noses. Was it a delayed poison that would only kick in minutes or hours later like they'd been working on with Toxicroak? The question lingered in her mind as Talonflame burst out of the smoke, her eyes closed and a brilliant flame glowing around her. Once she got close to them, she hacked out a few coughs, but otherwise remained in the air without any difficulties.

"Could you see anything in there?!" Cecilia asked. Talonflame shook her head. "Try blowing it away!"

With a powerful flap as loud as a thunderclap, Talonflame sent a gust of wind surging forward, her wings slicing through the air with precision and force. The gust collided with the thick poisonous smoke, creating swirling slices that briefly parted the toxic cloud. Yet it resisted. Like a living creature, it moaned and screamed and yelled in defiance. It was a tree rooted against the ground and desperate to cling to this village for reasons beyond Cecilia's understanding.

She saw a hint of six glowing eyes in the smoke.

We should leave! Slowking repeated again. Take the kid with you and alert the authorities in Sandgem. We can't handle whatever ghost this is!

The Unovan licked her lips, hand brushing against Slowking's barrier. Her eyes focused once more on the village, and her mind went to her dream.

"Do you trust me?" Cecilia asked.

Don't, he warned. Don't throw everything away again. I know you feel like you've hit rock bottom and it's not looking good with Grace, but we've been making progress—

"Listen to my voice and look at me." She stared directly into his eyes full of tears because of the poison and leaned forward. "Look at me," she repeated. "I'm not throwing anything away; I want to learn how to live, and I understand that I have people who care about me despite not knowing how to yet. Do you remember the dream?"

A beat of hesitation followed. I… do.

In front of them, Talonflame once again tried to blow away the poisonous haze with a wider but less focused Hurricane, and while it was slightly more effective, it too did nothing to budge the smoke.

"This is what I was talking about," she said. "I feel it in my bones, Slowking. The one at the source of all of this could have had us killed right now. Talonflame could have died. It could have killed the people fleeing instead of scaring them away. It's calling to me. Do I sound like someone who's given up?"

Slowking gnawed his teeth together. I can't—you can't expect me to just throw you in there on a hunch!

"Slowking, I understand your worries, and I know you love me," she paused and patted him on the arm, "but I want to learn how to love myself, too."

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. If that thing tries to kill you and we survive by the grace of Arceus, Zolst will leave the team. I won't keep him in the dark; there will be no secrets.

Her heart sank, but she stuck to her guts. "I'm not throwing my life away; that dream was just so much more than that. I know it now." Cecilia steeled herself and pointed down at the village. "Whatever comes next will be in there."

Fine. We're coming with you—your entire team, save for him.

It took less time to convince Talonflame, especially when Slowking was on board and there was an understanding between them. Not willing to risk the noxious smell hurting his concentration, the water type lowered them to the ground, where more and more people were fleeing past them. There couldn't be more than two hundred, maybe two hundred and fifty people in there, and Cecilia was certain she'd seen almost a hundred leave running. Toxicroak and Scizor burst out of their Pokeballs and also needed to be caught up with the plan, and while the former was especially adamant about running away, having three of her Pokemon on her side and seeing that so many people were alive gave her the push she needed.

With her shirt still pulled tightly over her nose, Cecilia plunged into the pillar of smoke. The world around her became a thick, swirling haze, the acrid air pressing against her like a suffocating blanket. Each step felt heavy, the ground beneath her feet uncertain and hidden by the toxic fog. The smell was overwhelming, seeping through the fabric of her shirt and clawing at her senses with every breath. It stung her eyes, blurring her vision with tears that mingled with the sweat dripping down her face. It was so pungent that she nearly had to stop to throw up a few times, but she swallowed the bile and kept going. Even Toxicroak, a poison type, found it difficult to take a full breath in this place.

She saw hints of weaker ghosts at the edge of her vision, whispering in her ear in a way that she somehow could hear through the fading screams of the fleeing inhabitants. There were far fewer of those, now; they were nearly all out. Like a guiding hand, Cecilia followed the numerous Gastly, Misdreavus, Duskull and Drifloon. The Litwick, the Yamask, the Shuppet, the Sandygast— there were too many of them to count. Cecilia had never seen so many in one place save for the Distortion World.

And in the middle of the village, where the smoke was the thickest and the odor the foulest, she saw it. Six eyes she remembered were red, floating in the air without a form—no, there was a form. Strangely enough, she thought it'd be easier to tell when she couldn't see color.

At first, it appeared disembodied, staring at her with an unsettling intensity. But as she squinted through the dense fog, she began to make out a shape—a vague, shifting form that seemed to blend seamlessly with the surrounding smoke. The ghost was amorphous, its edges undefined as if it were made of the very fog that enveloped the village. It flickered and wavered, constantly shifting and reforming. In fact, it was the source of the smoke. Cecilia could see it billowing from the ghost's form.

A fanged mouth opened, wider than the body Cecilia could see. The teeth were so numerous it covered the inside of its mouth, and they were sharp, like needles dripping with poison. "You found me," it spoke, and when Cecilia realized it was the exact same voice as the theatre but slightly more distorted, her entire hunch was vindicated. "Instead of fleeing in hopes of not disappointing your team, a paltry apology that wouldn't have meant anything and gone against your desires, you negotiated with them, came up with a compromise, and you found me." One voice cackled, one sighed, and one growled with low, guttural intensity. The laughing voice, sharp and mocking, echoed through the smoke like broken glass, nails across a chalkboard, an unpleasant vibration in the air. The sighing one was weary, almost sorrowful at the fact that she had to go through this to get here. The growl was deep and primal, burdened rage held on a leash, yet furious at her for taking so long.

That last one made Scizor threateningly raise a claw, but every other Pokemon told him to stop unless he wanted to get them killed.

"Did you or your underlings kill anyone?" Cecilia demanded. If they had, then—

"Not everyone is as barbaric as you can be, girl." The retort made her flinch back, but she was glad she'd been correct. "No. They were just scared away. Not a single life will be lost—and my entourage are no underlings." The creature somehow changed shapes into the form of a humanoid thing with way too many arms and bowed. "They simply crave interest. Entertainment. And I give it to them in exchange for their services."

"Enough games!" She had to admit, the spectacle of it fit whatever theatre nonsense it had used to show her the dream. "I passed whatever this was; I need answers." Each word out of Cecilia's mouth came with the risk of vomit spewing out of her. "And I need them now."

"Oh!" It… he… they? mockingly huffed. "One bit of praise, and you're back to taking charge. Alas, if it were anything else, you would be horribly incompetent, just as you've been this past week."

They'd been watching her? Rage bubbled within Cecilia. The idea she was being watched at the worst point of her life by this bastard of a ghost, and that they were just observing her like she was some sort of captive in a zoo—it made her want to blow this entire island away. "I—then show me! Stop being cryptic and make me dream again! Allow me to see the rest of that vision!"

"You are missing the forest for the trees, child," they spoke as one. "What you see will not just give you the answer; it will give you a thesis. It is up to you to figure out the rest. I told you, did I not? You will not be led to water, and you will not be made to drink."

"So now what?" she said with a hint of irony. "These people will all think I brought this upon them, and even if I can just leave, what will have changed? What will I have learned? Why have you traumatized all of these people for this?"

"One who wants a journey of a thousand steps to be complete in an instant is no traveler at all," they said. "You have done better than what the majority expected; that is prize enough, even if you have failed."

She took a reckless step forward. "I don't even know what I'm failing! If you want to help me, you are doing it in the most asinine way possible!"

"What do we do when we fail? We try again," they declared, almost a mantra that Cecilia could imagine had been said countless times.

A spear of poison passed through Cecilia's head like a scorching knife would through butter, and she died.


Cecilia awakens back in the theatre with a gasp, her hands scrambling to touch her face to see if she is still whole. When she realizes she can breathe and that there is no massive hole through her forehead, the fear subsides. In a way, the sheer terror she feels reminds her that through it all, she retains the fear of death even after having thrown her life away. That is progress; she understands that it is a facet of what it means to be human. While light slowly dims on the stage, the Unovan realizes that she can move her arms and legs, even if she still cannot stand. The other hers still fill every seat like silent vigils, and when she tries to touch the one closest to her—one who is around thirteen years old—

Her hand touches ceramic and not skin. They're dolls. Her attention goes back to the stage and the sparkling letters hovering above, spelling out 'SECOND DEATH.'

"Did I die?" she asks herself, feeling a pit form in her stomach. This would make sense, considering the fact that her brain was dissolved by poison, but she had literally died once before, and it had felt nothing like this. The aftermath of it, anyway. "No. That was—was it all fake?"

The purple shadow appears on the dark stage, and Cecilia sees the shape of ghostly hands clapping without the noise to accompany it. The six eyes gleam in delight, and a toothy smile stretches across their face to greet her. "Wonderful. Simply wonderful," they slowly speak as one. "Rare are the ones who can see themselves dying in such visceral detail and be unphased. I am not surprised, given it's you."

"What happened to my Pokemon?" she demands, leaning forward in her chair as her skin bubbled with hot rage. "What did you do?"

"I'm sure that you can figure it out if you give it enough time." The ghost's form shrugs, and two of the eyes close. "She can," he strongly adds. He, she assumed, because he kept referring to himself as 'I'. "She did rather well for the first act after her breakdown."

"Now you talk about me like I'm not here," Cecilia hisses through her teeth before her hands go to cover her mouth. She should have let them talk, but everything is so frustrating right now that she speaks without thinking.

The two eyes open again, and all six glint with a menacing glare. "Right. My apologies; let us get on with the second act—the shortest of the three; there will be no intermission. Oh, and do not fret. Your Pokemon are well."

She manages to calm herself at the news. Once again, she is blinded by the sudden flare of the theater lights, their intensity overwhelming her senses. The darkness that had enveloped her moments before is shattered by a barrage of brilliant white beams, sharp and unyielding, that pierce through her vision like daggers. The lights are so bright that they seem to burn into her eyes, leaving behind a haze of afterimages that dance across her sight.

But when she opens them;

Her life is back on display, right where they had left off: Grace and her fighting in the bathroom stall. She accuses her of being a spy, yet when she denies, denies, denies and Cecilia realizes that she has potentially threatened an innocent trainer, her younger self breaks down into tears and begs Grace not to tell anyone, lest the news get back to her father.

"You don't understand, this— this isn't about money."

There it is.

The first crack in her facade, one that threatened to bring down the entire wall she had put up around herself. In her eyes, Grace is the first one to ever not screw her over, or at least it feels like it. Even when the next time they go into the bathrooms, she demands more information out of her that Cecilia feels compelled to give because she'd thrown the fight against Louis to let him win.

"I won't leave until you tell me," she said, crossing my arms.

"Or what? Going to blackmail me?" Cecilia said.

"No. I'll just follow you around and keep asking."

"What if I go back to my group? Then what?"

"Then they'll know you throw games because your boyfriend's ego is too big to take a loss."
She smiles with a smug look and crosses her arms, as if she knows she's won the argument, and Cecilia remembers feeling so enthralled by that expression that she felt her heart throbbing.

There's tension there, tension Cecilia forgot had ever even existed. But now, it's all smoothed over, too comfortable. Both the good and the bad blend together in a way that makes everything feel stagnant, like there's no point in changing anything. They're both too scared of what the other might truly think, too afraid to disrupt the fragile balance they've created because of the pain it would bring. It is easier to stay in this safe, predictable space than to face the uncertainty of what might happen if they dared to confront the truth.

So what is the point?

Cecilia scoffs at her own train of thought. What's the point? She tried to make it work! Break after break, yet nothing ever changes. They put band-aids on open gashes and hope the wound won't worsen, and it's gotten to the point where Cecilia can't even think of her without feeling like she's made a mistake for running. Running. She always runs, doesn't she? It's like the ghost said—but she didn't have a choice, this time. She had to disconnect, or nothing would have ever changed, and she would have forever been locked into Grace's orbit like a tiny planet permanently stuck around a star until it died and destroyed everything with it. Now, the wound was festering beneath the surface, a deep, aching rot that no bandage could ever heal. It was a gaping chasm that stretched wider with each passing day, filled with bitterness, regret, and the slow poison of unspoken words.

The words from their confrontation in their condo echo in Cecilia's head. She'd waited too long, and she now suffers because of it.

Time fast forwards, and she sees herself learning what it means to allow a little happiness into a life that had once been dull and gray. It's odd to see her friends as they used to be. Grace, happy and optimistic even after the incident with Galactic; Emilia, shy and meek, scared of everything that moves; Justin, alive and free of darkness, learning to be sociable; Louis, egotistical and hiding his fear behind a mask of fake masculinity and bravado; Denzel, struggling with self-worth; Pauline, so abrasive it was difficult to ever take her seriously. It was also strange to see herself learning, changing in different ways. Her first time telling Grace the entire truth about her father, her first time bantering, her first time telling Denzel about Unova, and him getting defensive because he's a true Sinnohan at heart.

And it is in these moments, between Floaroma and Eterna City, that Cecilia sees the beginning of something great that never arrived. Like someone who missed their train, she let slip the opportunity to learn what it means to be a person, even though the potential was right there in front of her. She was learning, truly learning, to confide in those close to her, but also to stand on her own two feet. The first time she decided to go all out in a Gym Battle against Gardenia, Cecilia saw more fire in her eyes than she ever had before.

It wasn't done with no mistakes. She still feared her father, back then, and hell, maybe she still does, and she still restrains herself socially because of the fear of spies. She still trained her Pokemon the only way she herself had been trained since her very birth.

But progress was still being made. That was, until—

It all came crashing down with Amy showing up at their hotel. And here, she tried to put everything she's been through, everything she's learned to stand up for herself, and she is so utterly crushed by a single threat of Malamar that none of it ever even mattered.

It is ruinous; it is soul-crushing; there is no escape to be had here, or at least that's what she thinks. This is the moment that defines her, the moment where she dies a second time. The fragile hope she had finally tasted after so long is ripped away, draining from her like lifeblood from a mortal wound. In its place, only despair remains, a hollow echo of what once was—no, what could have been—leaving her empty, lost, and unable to reclaim the light she had so desperately sought.

Cecilia writes a letter and runs in hopes of dying.

But again—

Her friends come to save her—even Chase tries to stop her, but the nascent crush on Grace means that she's the only one Cecilia can focus on, and it turns into a mixture of deep love and obsession.

The theatre freezes. The lights dim. The ghost reappears.

"What do you think?" he asks. It is a simple question with a simple answer that Cecilia doesn't want to even think about. "You're giving it some thought already—spit it out."

"I was learning," she answers, her voice laced with pain. "Learning to be a person. But it was all thrown away because Amy came back, and I fell in love with Grace. I saw her save me twice and started to think she would save me forever. That she would always be there, by my side, to make the pain go away." She wants to ask what she should have done, but doesn't. Instead, she thinks, remembering that of the other timelines, she'd been the only one who had given up this way. So instead, all she can muster is, "if Amy hadn't come, would I have learned?"

"I cannot answer hypotheticals; I just know your memories—most of them, at least. But you see the thesis forming, now," he says.

"I see it. I see it all too well." She could, in fact, already tell what the final act of this play was going to be. "Wake me up, then."

The ghost gives her a prideful smile—


Cecilia calmly opened her eyes, waking to the sound of crashing waves. The sky was dull and gray, as usual, as was everything else around her. Rain pattered down a psychic barrier above her.

Up early today, aren't we? Slowking said, leaning against a stone outcropping with his eyes half-closed. I'm not surprised. You were shaking a little in your sleep in the last hour or so, but I figured it'd do well to finally let you sleep. You haven't been getting a lot, lately.

Instantly, she shot up with her eyes wide. She was back to one week ago—no, no, some kind of temporal loop was beyond anything non-Legendary. This was an illusion of some kind; she was trapped in a dream of that ghost's doing. He had said he had access to her memories—had she lived through this before more than once? And if it was a dream created by his powers, how in the world did all of her Pokemon act so right? Had that come from her memories as well?

Cecilia had too little information to make anything other than an educated guess. A mass illusion within her own head was the best she could do, at the moment.

Um… Cecilia? Slowking managed to mask the worried look on his face well. Are you well, my lady?

Her hand rubbed the tiredness out of her eyes, and she smiled. "Slowking, I love you. I've never said that, have I?"

If he could blush, he would have. W—well, I'm certain you've said it at least once, he stammered. What's with you today?

"I should have said it sooner." Cecilia crawled out of her sleeping bag with more energy than she'd had since she set out to kill Jupiter. To be absolutely certain, she checked the date on her phone; she was indeed one week in the past. "Hey. Would you believe me if I said this was my second time going through this week?"

I would ask you if you've had a strange dream.

"Zolst and Talonflame are out hunting; Scizor and Toxicroak are out training on that cliff up north; there was a child who came by earlier this morning and Talonflame took him home to his grandfather. His name is Ari."

Slowking's normally serene expression shifted subtly. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly, and the corners of his mouth drew downward in a faint, almost imperceptible frown. Ah, he admitted defeat. I see you're telling the truth. I guess stranger things have happened to us.

While eating breakfast, Cecilia explained the logistics of this illusion to Slowking and everything that had happened to her in her first attempt at this week. The theatre, the mistake at the village, the attempts at bonding and the nominal successes, and the attack on the village in seven days.

Sounds like one hell of a puzzle, Slowking pondered with his hands behind his back. You know, the thought that I might be a fake dream me that's going to disappear at the end of the week isn't great. I'm getting a stomachache; I don't like getting all existential.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get an answer during my dream." Cecilia affectionately patted him on his smooth arm, then slid to the fabric-like material around his neck. "I would have gone through this alone, once, but I want you all to be involved. We're a team."

Don't be mistaken; I am glad you told me. He cleared his throat and waved a hand, scattering the grains of sand off her sleeping bag. What's the plan now?

Thunder boomed overhead. It would keep raining for another few hours. "There's no use forcing things." She scrunched up the plastic wrap of her cereal bar, shoving it into her pocket before stretching and wondering what would be the test this week. "If I try to force the team into gathering again, it'll most likely push them away." Mostly, that meant Scizor, Toxicroak and Zolst. "Let's go get Lehmhart."

Do you know where he is because of the loop?

"No. I know where he is because I watched him grow up," she replied with a spring in her step.

She had taken much longer now, so when Cecilia made it to the ruined town, Lehmhart was alone and arranging bricks together to make little shapes and house-like cubes that were too small to fit anything in them. The Unovan watched him for a moment; he crushed a brick in between his fingers, letting out a distressed, violin-like sound as his eyes flickered in a panic.

"Lehmhart?" Her voice carried across the desolate path, and while the construct didn't flinch, he froze, head slowly rotating toward her. "Are you in need of help building a home? Slowking and I can join in—a psychic would be a great help." This was what would have happened last time had she not shown up early.

Don't worry, little guy! Slowking cheered. We'll help you out!

Cecilia stood beside the towering Golurk, her eyes focused on the task at hand. The desolate path around them was littered with rubble, remnants of old structures that had long since crumbled into the earth. Lehmhart flicked the brick pile with a finger, tearing the majority of the stones to shreds in the process. Cecilia coughed up some of the dust until Slowking blew it away, but all she could do was laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Here they were, a sixteen-year-old and her two 8-badge level Pokemon, playing house.

Lehmhart's heavy, stone-like hands carefully lifted large, weathered bricks from the pile, setting each one into place while Slowking applied a thin layer of adhesive barrier between each one. They'd figured out different barrier properties long before she'd sent their bond careening down the hill of suicide, and they'd seen Jupiter make use of it as well during their fight. While Cecilia couldn't say she had helped Slowking with any ideas given their strained relationship, he had practiced in his own time because his goal was still to keep her alive at all costs—barriers that lasted long hadn't been an issue for a while. Cecilia tried her best to help as well, though she'd been put on brick-finding duty. These were all different sizes, after all, but the closest ones could be adjusted using Water Cutter.

By the end, the trio stepped back to admire their work—a hollow, brick cube that was as bland as toasted white bread. Cecilia couldn't help but wipe the sweat off her brow and feel a deep satisfaction. They'd been at this for so long that it was no longer raining.

"What do you say we move camps and I sleep in here tonight?" The 'house' was large enough to accommodate at least her and maybe one of her smaller Pokemon. Lehmhart gave her a happy thumbs up, and she added, "great. We'll move our things later tonight. Plus, it's close to the village."

She wasn't going to go today, not when there was so much to do with her team. Maybe tomorrow or the day after would do. Plus, they still needed to go buy food again in Sandgem. Illusion or not, Cecilia didn't want to see Lehmhart sad at the circle of life. There were also a few tests she needed to run to see how far this dream truly extended.

And she would also need to text Chase.

"By the way, Lehmhart," she looked up at his bright eyes and saw a person where there once had been a vapid soul shoved into a golem. "Would you believe me if I told you I've lived the next week once already?"



It was as Cecilia thought.

While Sandgem itself appeared normal, Cecilia kept flying north on Lehmhart, expecting to reach Jubilife, but instead found herself back on Route 221. If this was indeed a case of dreams within dreams, the effort required to maintain such a facade over the entire region would demand an immense amount of technique and power. The people in Sandgem had been strange, almost hollow—no one spoke to her except for the store clerk from whom she had bought food and supplies. They existed, yet they didn't; they were mere apparitions, ghosts crafted to fill this world, deceiving her into believing it was real. The realization that she'd been so lost in her own mind, so out of touch, that she hadn't recognized the illusion the first time around sent an unpleasant feeling coursing through her skin, like something was crawling under there. She supposed that making realistic personalities for that many people would be too much to simulate.

She hadn't known what to expect when texting Chase. Would he even show up? Would he be another empty sack of meat without a soul? Or would her memories of him be enough to…

Her train of thought halted as she sat on the cold, stone bench, watching the silent world of Sandgem unfold before her in shades of gray. A child and a Mankey kicking a pebble back and forth between each other on the sidewalk, leading to a man silently telling them to bugger off and leave space for people to pass through. A mother, hand in hand with her son, walking out of the very store she'd just been in with a bag of groceries around her arm. On the road, a transient walked from car to car with a cup, begging for money. That one, she made due, placing two thousand Pokedollars in his hand after gesturing him over.

"Thank you," he said, bowing his head to her. "Arceus bless you and your days."

Cecilia was so surprised to see he'd gained a voice that all she could muster was a flustered thanks before he left.

She had to focus on the people, or she'd remember what she'd lost. But maybe it was fine to acknowledge it. The way she had to identify red or green lights by their position instead of their color, or how she couldn't tell a lot of Pokemon attacks by their hue anymore, but only their intensity. How she could no longer rely on color when she went shopping for fruit. The difficulty she had reading maps. The death of the lights of a city at night, or how vibrant a sunset was. It was like moving through a dense fog, all the time.

Cecilia glanced left, where two girls on the next bench listened to music, one earbud in each ear with their hands laced together.

That one hurt.

Cecilia knew she was in a world of smoke and mirrors; she still didn't like thinking like nothing was real. It would lead her to believe that there were no consequences to anything. She'd still followed flying rules, making sure to land outside of Sandgem with Lehmhart and recall him before stepping inside the city. She'd still paid for her food, respected laws, and treated people with respect. It would be dangerous to slip into the mentality that nothing mattered so long as she brute-forced through these trials—that only a singular goal would make her whole. That was the mentality that had nearly taken her life away.

What had she been thinking? She knew the answer—revenge for Justin, a concept she had tunnel visioned on for days trekking up the mountain. But really, why on her own? Why had she considered revenge to be hers and hers alone? Why had she not given thought to what her Pokemon would think, or kept Maeve there to help? It was an interesting thought because Cecilia had never considered herself to be selfish. She'd rarely paused and tried to guess at what made her beyond needing to be different for her relationship with Grace to work out.

That relationship was still part of the reason she'd come here, after all, but it had transformed into this—not that she minded. What do you like, the ghost had asked, but maybe Cecilia could start with what she was like in the truest sense of that question. An echo in an abandoned room, a faint trace of what perhaps could have been, but she was also—

"Looking deep in thought, there."

She looked up at Chase, who approached her in his wheelchair. Even now, he still wore his old cap that neatly covered his short hair. His thick eyebrows were raised, as if he was pleased to see her. No, he was. They were best friends.

"Chase," she said with a smile. "I've been through a lot, lately."

He was getting better at navigating the world in his wheelchair. With a strong grip on the wheels, he turned and positioned his chair next to the bench as he spoke. "I can tell," he said. "But you look kind of different, too."

"How so?"

"Dunno. There's a fire in your eye that's usually not there; I like it." He grabbed his cap off his head and began to trace the ridge with his fingers almost affectionately. "So. How's your trip going?"

"It's been confusing; I'll keep it a secret, I need to go through this on my own." Cecilia leaned against her palm with a sigh. "That doesn't mean I can't ask for help, however."

He chuckled. "You'd do well to internalize that before you get back. Shoot."

"What do you think it means to be a person?"

The question lingered in the air, and Chase stared at the gray skies for a few seconds. "Getting all philosophical on me, aren't ya?" He rubbed the back of his head, then groaned. "I dunno. So long as you're breathing, eating, sleeping, and shittin', you're a person in my book, but I can tell that's not the answer you want."

"It's come to my attention that I'm largely empty. A hollow vessel, I've been called." Their eyes met, and she knew Chase wanted to chastise her in that moment for kicking herself down, so she preemptively continued. "I don't even feel bad about it. It is bad, yes, but this isn't to wallow in my own self-pity. I'm trying to figure out how to fill my soul."

"Hm." He idly cracked his knuckles, then each finger one by one. "Listen pal, can I be real for a sec?"

"Always."

"You're not hollow. Whoever told you that can go shove it." She couldn't help but smile at the fact that he had no idea that ghost would wipe the floor with the both of them. "You're just shallow sometimes, especially when you get in your own head about what you need to do to fix whatever needs to happen for you to be with Grace. And that's been eating at you ever since Coronet."

She'd been about to ask if there was any news with her but remembered that one, it didn't matter now, and two, he wouldn't know. He was borne of her memories. Anything he'd say would be fabricated on the spot.

"And look, you've just been through a lot this year. It's been tough."

"For all of us," she added.

He snorted. "True that. Fuckin' look at my dumb ass." He waved annoyingly at his legs. "But it's tough to ask someone to go through all of your bullshit and come out the other side whole. We all have ways to cope; I just thought you'd figure yourself out now that it was all over."

"Did you think I wouldn't come to you for advice?" she asked, finger tapping her cheek.

"Cece, I think that if the entire group came to me for advice, then all of their problems would disappear," he boasted and pointed at his chest with a thumb. "Anyway, continuing. You're not empty. If you were empty, you wouldn't have that quirk in your eye when talking my ear off about whatshisface who lost his election by three hundred votes in the year whogivesafuck—that enjoyment you get when you hear about people who sometimes get fucked over."

"Only those who deserve it," she specified. "That's an important addendum."

"Sure. Whatever. That night on the Iron Island? Our pact? It wouldn't have happened. You wouldn't have changed your ways with Scizor or tried too hard to fix things with him. You wouldn't have actually tried to change anything with your girl, even if it came so late." He sighed, shaking his head. "It's just that lately, your entire existence feels like one big apology. Like you're scared of actually being someone. And like, you can ease into it. It's not like I'd know how to just become whole immediately. But—you know, I don't want to tell you to just stop being depressed, but just stop being depressed. Run some fucking laps or something; scream at things. Get angry, be selfish, make fun of some fucking loser. I don't know. Just… do something. Anything."

Hm. Ease into it. Like stepping into a hot bath. "I think I get it now. Not all of it, but more than what I knew before. I… will not be making fun of anyone."

"Lame."

"Unless they deserve it," she added again. "And right now, I feel the need to tell you how moronic it is that your first piece of advice to me was to run some laps."

He scoffed, straightening his back against his wheelchair in outrage. "Bro, come on. You said the advice worked!"

"Not the running, you absolute dolt. That bit was useless for anyone who isn't you." She stood up from her bench and patted down her clothes behind her. "I'm leaving; thank you for the advice, as always."

"What else was I supposed to say? See a therapist?"

She blinked a few times. "Yes. Yes, I think I'll be doing that as well when I come back."

"Wha—you told me you didn't want—hey, don't just start walking away! God, I hate when you do this cryptic ass bullshit!"

"Let's go eat out or something." Legendaries, she wished she still had the money to eat out at the most expensive restaurants just for the spectacle of it all. "Hey. Call Louis and get him here."

He followed behind her, and then made sure to stay at her side. He hated following. "Sure thing, why?"

"We need his ID for alcohol—and you know, I also just want him here. It's been a while."

"I ain't drinking," he said.

"I know. You'll be the responsible friend tonight."



One night out was plenty; one vice could not be replaced with another. There was much work to do, even if getting drunk once in a while was fun. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten drunk—maybe in Eterna City, at one of the parties Emilia used to organize? Where Louis sneaked in alcohol into their hotel rooms and Pokemon Centers, and they would enjoy themselves deep into the night.

"Of course, the dream world can't help with hangovers." A groan left her mouth as she dragged herself out of bed. For a moment, she got scared at the unfamiliar ceiling before remembering this was the house Lehmhart, Slowking, and she had built. Part of her hoped to see her entire team when she crouched to fit under the short entrance, but only Talonflame, Slowking, Toxicroak, and Lehmhart were there.

She was lucky it was overcast again today, because the mere rays of the sun filtering through the clouds was enough to give her a headache so painful it was nearly impossible to open her eyes. She took refuge back into her 'house' and popped a painkiller from her bag into her mouth, sticking inside until the sun became tolerable again. Slowking let her know that Scizor had actually been with them this morning, but had been baited by Zolst with rumors of a strong ghost somewhere that they decided to go and find to battle.

Cecilia had no idea whether those rumors were artificially disseminated by her captor to make her life harder, or if the wild Pokemon had actually learned that information naturally through the ghosts stalking the island. She was honestly surprised she hadn't come across any, but they were most likely avoiding her so she couldn't get any information out of them.

"I've made some progress regarding myself, but I'm still stalling with them," she whispered to herself.

At least she'd made it back safe and sound thanks to Lehmhart. Memories of last night remained crisp and clear. Louis and Cecilia made for a terrifying drunk pair, given that his old self returned when he was under the influence, becoming horribly loud, boisterous, and most of all, obnoxious. Meanwhile, Cecilia somehow knew the exact words to hurt people as much as possible and found pleasure in it.

Needless to say, Chase had an awful night and was the subject of many terrible jokes.

Cecilia made a vow to try this again when she was out of this dream world for good; now, what would come next?

The village whose name she ought to learn by now.

Again, she went with Lehmhart safely tucked into his Pokeball, but this time, she came with Talonflame. Their stares were still judgmental, piercing glares picturing her as a horrible monster instead of a lost girl trying to find her way. It was early in the afternoon when she found Ari sitting by the beach, this time with his grandfather by his side. Did he come here to watch the horizon every day? Cecilia remembered desperately trying to find herself beyond that line. To see what other Champions saw.

He reminded her a little of herself. The yearning for freedom, to go out and escape the shackles of your family and home. His grandfather gently stroked his hair; the gentle sound of the waves crashed against the narrow beach.

She cleared her throat. "Good afternoon; may we sit here?"

Ari looked at her with a wide smile stretching from ear to ear, making it difficult to remember they technically hadn't met. He was just fascinated by outsiders.

The older man—clear-haired and with a bald spot atop his head—made a gruff sound. "Plenty of space to go around." He gestured at the entire beach. "Why here, stranger?"

"Your grandson got lost yesterday; it was my Talonflame that brought him back." The flying type squawked in agreement, flapping her wings excitedly. "I wanted to know how he was doing—he has a bit of an exploring streak, doesn't he?"

"I love exploring! I wanna go across the sea!" Ari yelled out until his grandpa quieted him down with a gentle click of his tongue.

He still wouldn't say anything to her, which was somewhat surprising considering he had calmed the crowd she'd brought upon herself last time. Perhaps he felt less inclined to be friendly when the entire village wasn't ganging up on her and she didn't look like her entire life was collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

"Is there something on my face?" She smiled, already knowing the answer. Slowking snorted and sneaked in a 'nice one' in her head. "I promise you; I mean no harm."

"You do look quite gnarly," he said. "It makes you look violent—like you get into terrible fights—and violent people are untrustworthy."

"I'm sorry, many mistakes I've made in the past have led me to this, but I ask you not judge a book by its cover." Cecilia sat on the beach with her legs stretched out before her, the sand cool beneath her palms as she traced absentminded patterns in the grains. "I'll leave if you really want me to, I'm just also here regarding another issue."

"Please, grandpa?" Ari made big eyes at him. "I want to ask her stuff about the mainland."

The old man hesitated. "It'd make Ari sad if you were to just leave."

"What's your name? Mine is Cecilia, and it feels like I was born a week ago."

He looked at her, all baffled. "Jaime."

They spoke about everything and anything. How tough life was for their village—Seabrook, it was called. A little unoriginal, but it did the trick. The way they struggled with brain drain and every teenager leaving for the mainland and how Jaime feared that it would eventually die like a dozen fishing villages before his. Sandgem was good to them in most ways, unlike Canalave and the Iron Islands, but they were still a rural village without much going for them. Sometimes, the large boats the city sent near the coast made Pokemon in the water collapse the pier out of anger, and they'd had to rebuild it time and again.

The nearest hospital was in Sandgem, an hour and a half away by boat, and the aging population felt this the most. There were no official schools—one person who'd taught on the mainland just did the same here to the best of her abilities and had to use old, outdated textbooks. Seabrook's entire livelihood depended on the sea, where they fished for Magikarp and other weak water types, but fishing was hard and dangerous work. Deaths were rare in the shallow waters, but injuries from a feisty water type were not uncommon.

One bad storm could wipe out their livelihoods in a single night. Their infrastructure was crumbling, with roads barely maintained and electricity prone to outages during the harsh coastal storms that rolled in more frequently than ever. Hurricanes from Hoenn rarely made it up to Sinnoh without losing a lot of their oomph, but just those winds were enough to send the town reeling. Cecilia knew that Hoenn had legions of Castforms to weaken or stop the worst of them, but go against nature for too long, and it would be sure to bounce back in uncontrollable ways. A lot of them, they let through.

These were very real, human problems with very real solutions. Cecilia had seen it at first in the Iron Islands, but she hadn't given it anywhere as much thought as Chase had. Back then, she'd been taken by thoughts of her Voice, Zolst's evolution, and her break with Grace.

"My Pokemon can help a lot with your issues—mostly Slowking and my Golurk," she said, not missing the wince in Jaime's eye.

"We've had a bit of an issue with ghosts these past few months. Little pranks here and there at first, but they've grown a lot more unrestrained these past two weeks." These were the exact words he'd told her before.

Oh. Right.

This was fake. Cecilia had nearly forgotten.

"They've ramped up, then?" she asked. "Do you not fear that something big might be coming?" She wished she'd been at the village when the entire attack had begun—if only she had more information, she'd be able to more accurately gauge the threat.

"Bah!" he scoffed. "Even then, what can we do? Abandon our homes?" He ignored a happy 'yes' from his grandson. "If it gets too bad, I'll send a missive to Sandgem. Usually, they respond within the day, though we've rarely had problems with the wildlife requiring their assistance. We have a good relationship with the Pokemon not in the sea."

"I'm a trainer with eight badges," she said, earning a little gasp from Ari and a balk from his grandfather. Was it that surprising, given her Pokemon? Just like in the Iron Islands, it didn't look like they had a frame of reference. "I can offer you help, either to negotiate with these ghosts or fight them back should they do something violent." Cecilia knew they wouldn't kill anyone, but the act of scaring them away from their hometown was rather violent. Violence as a concept came in many more forms than just physical harm. "And if that doesn't work," like she knew it wouldn't, "I can at least help in the evacuation efforts."

He shook his head, then turned it toward the pier. "I've lived here half my life; this will pass like everything else." Then, he snorted. "Nothing can be as bad as that really bad storm ten years back. Came from Hoenn, but flooded us all to hell."

Cecilia had been too young to remember, but Hoenn was still scarred by the event. That storm that flooded so much of their land, accompanied by earthquakes all over the region that led to tsunamis and eruptions. Hundreds of thousands had died. The region's current isolation was proof that they still bore the scars of that event. She just hadn't known Indigo and Sinnoh had felt it as well on a smaller scale.

"At least let me help around town. I won't be in your hair all the time, but I can offer to reinforce your pier with barriers that should last a few weeks after I leave." They'd be weak, made to last longer, but it'd be enough for the vast majority of what lurked underwater. Cecilia caught the want in Jaime's eye at that idea. "I can help pave new paths, repair things—and I suppose I can also just help you as I am now."

"What does that mean?"

"Do things with my own two hands and learn what it's like, for a change," she said.

Again, he frowned at her, probably confused at the words she was using. "I'd be a fool to refuse." He sighed and gave her his hand.

She shook it.

The week went by in a blur.

Cecilia threw herself into the rhythm of Seabrook, her Pokemon by her side. In the mornings, she'd help not only repair but expand the old, worn pier, hands raw from hauling planks and hammering nails. Lehmhart lifted heavy beams into place with effortless strength, his once despised presence slowly growing more welcome—he was even allowed to play music while he worked. With her nimble hands, Toxicroak helped secure the smaller, more intricate pieces, working with a precision that surprised even the seasoned carpenters. Maybe they were extremely skilled, maybe not—it wasn't like Cecilia had any experience working with carpenters before now.

While she refused to take part in the act of fishing itself because it'd make Lehmhart sad, she tried her hand at learning to mend old frayed nets. Slowking would sit beside her, his fine psychic control making the work easier as he guided the threads through the stubborn fibers. By the end of the week, she wasn't great at it, but she could at least do it.

She and Lehmhart used materials from the old ruined town—which had apparently been abandoned forty or so years ago—to turn some of the dirt paths into paved ones. Scizor and Toxicroak sparred together to entertain, and there were even betting pools about who would win. Cecilia had the pleasure to learn that most of these people barely knew anything about Pokemon Battles, or they wouldn't keep betting on Toxicroak because she was closer to them than Scizor was.

The Unovan became a steady presence in the village. Not one they could fully trust, but one they had at least grown accustomed to. Jaime even let her take Ari on a day trip to Sandgem, where the boy met Chase, and the two spent the day playing together. To her surprise, she discovered a quiet joy in making children smile, and with Ari, it came effortlessly as she told him about the whole wide world beyond Seabrook.

She tried her best to reconnect with Zolst and Scizor, but only the latter made a full effort to see her progress. The dragon, while happy that she was standing up for herself and doing things, still gave her the cold shoulder when she asked about anything further than talking, but at least she got his presence instead of him running off to blow his frustration on things.

She learned about them and their stories. About Danna's leaky faucet, how it dripped incessantly through the night, keeping her awake with the constant reminder that there was no one left in town who could fix it quickly. About Wren's creaky front porch, which groaned under the slightest weight, threatening to collapse each time he stepped outside. About Marcy's bad vision due to her breaking her glasses a month ago and Sandgem only giving her an appointment in four. Cecilia rediscovered ideologies, cliques, drama that spanned generations, the pain of old lovers taken by the mainland—and when she once again asked herself what was it all for, and what purposes did this trial serve, her mind went to all of this.

Humanity. She had not forgotten that she was human, but forgotten the small gestures that made people. The dozen aches in their bones, the favorite meal they could only eat once a month, the way their faces softened at the scent of something familiar. The quiet, unspoken connections between neighbors—a nod of understanding, a shared glance of relief, a hand reaching out to steady someone on uneven ground.

Mercies so small in passing, and yet they were and remained everything.

And on the dawn of the seventh day,

Ghosts started appearing.

A slow trickle at first; then, by the evening, it became a veritable avalanche. Pots were knocked over, gutters destroyed, wooden chairs shattered, and the air grew thick with an unsettling chill. Shadows twisted unnaturally in the corners of every room, and the village was filled with the eerie sounds of disembodied whispers and echoing footsteps. Doors slammed shut on their own, windows rattled as if besieged by an unseen force, and the very walls seemed to groan under the weight of restless spirits.

It was harmless; Cecilia did not understand why it had sent the townsfolk in such an uneasy panic when their troupe leader hadn't even shown up quite yet. Or, correction: she knew that objectively, having items in your house come alive was scary; she just couldn't comprehend it. Their leader had, Cecilia knew, quite the taste for a grand entrance and theatrics in a way a Pokemon would take after their trainer.

She was knocking on Jaime's door, now. Three Wingull stood on the roof of his house, standing guard and firing Water Guns at any ghosts who showed occasionally showed themselves. By her count, there was an hour and some change left before the smoke started appearing, and that was if the ghost would go for the same trick. This time, she had gathered her entire team with her, all waiting in their Pokeballs save for Slowking.

The door nearly slammed into her when a giggling Misdreavus disappeared into the night faster than the Wingull could act. Cecilia yelled out for Jaime's name, but it was Ari who came by. She crouched until their eyes met, one hand sticking on his shoulder. "Where's your grandpa?"

He might have been the only one who wasn't scared in all of Seabrook. She had to snap her fingers in front of his face to get his attention away from a Gastly Slowking chased away behind her. "Uh… he said he was going by the church to pray the ghosts away with a bunch of other people."

Was that why they'd fled all at once last time? Cecilia pinched the bridge of her nose and allowed herself to get angry at this for a few seconds. The anger was benign, not the one she was used to. It was the same feeling she'd get when she forgot something really obvious and it was at the tip of her tongue, proving that she knew the answer, or when Grace left her room dirty for no good reason beyond laziness. Of course, that had been before she got hampered by all of the pressure and responsibilities saving the world would bring, and had forgotten how to get frustrated at her.

It had just been easier to take refuge in her arms and close her eyes.

It felt good to feel something so small, yet so raw all the same. "Praying won't work here," she said. "We have to get all of you out; something horrid is coming. Do you smell that?"

He sniffed the air a few times. "Ew. Yeah, it kind of smells like… I don't know what it smells like, but I hate it."

"It's going to get so much worse you're all going to throw up and it's probably going to stick in your throat and nostrils for days and affect the taste of food. You don't want that, don't you?"

Panic seized his eyes, and his body tensed. "No!"

She gave him her hand. "Then let's get everyone out of here."

He followed.

Until she'd spoken to these people, Cecilia hadn't known that there were enclaves like these islands—religious minorities who worshipped Lugia, the Guardian of the Sea. Seabrook's church was the largest building in town, and it was nestled on a cliff at the edge of the village, its weathered walls blending seamlessly with the rocky landscape. Their ways required it to be built as close to the ocean as possible; you could see how the stones were weathered by the waves that occasionally reached high enough to have battered them over the decades. The entrance was marked by a heavy, featureless wooden door. Clarence had never been a man of the Unovan Gods, the deities of Truth and Ideals, but all of the churches she'd been to had been grand and imposing, a testament of Man's service to their religion.

But this place was different.

There was no grandeur here, no sense of awe inspired by architecture or artistry. The stone church was humble. The inside was cool and dim, lit only by the soft glow of candlelight flickering against the stone walls. Despite the massive crowd, the space was small and lead to an altar at the church's center with a hole in the ceiling where rain would be allowed to fall. An almost misshapen carving of Lugia, with its raw, ragged edges and fraying lines, was etched into stone at the altar.

Dozens upon dozens of people, all packed like the Magikarp in the very nets they caught them with, knelt in quiet reverence around the altar with their hands in the air, so focused on their prayer only a few had noticed Cecilia walk in.

"Excuse me," she spoke, her voice snapping the rest of them out of their faithful stupor. So many eyes on her made Cecilia's hand around Ari's tighten. "It's not safe here. We should leave."

Jaime was the one who rose to meet her words, eyes full of ire and tension that coiled around him like a tightening spring. "I thought I was clear." He glanced down at his grandson, and frustration turned to something more. "Ari!" he yelled. "What are you doing here—it's dangerous!"

"If it's dangerous here, then I don't think it would be wise to stay." She was facing them all, but her voice carried far. Purpose could be found within where there had been nothing in it the last time she'd confronted this many people.

The boy flinched, clearly not used to the calm man screaming his lungs out at him. "I—Cecilia says it's not safe to stay in the village," he muttered.

Jaime's steps parted the crowd like water. "You do not get to tell me what my family should do!"

A question.

This world was fake; why help them? Cecilia doubted the ghost had even wanted her to do this, and she didn't think he would keep her trapped forever. This was a chance he was giving her, not torment or torture. No one in this church or village was real. They were imitations—good ones, given her Pokemon, but imitations nonetheless.

Because fake or not, she had learned to live with these people and heard their names, likes, dislikes, and pleas. Because she had learned that connections to people were most important, she did not want to get lost in the ghost's game and wait until the end of his test.

"Stop being so foolish!" she yelled. "Can't you see it's all getting worse—" the church shook as if an earthquake was rippling through the town. "You're blinding yourselves with faith because you think that if you leave, Seabrook will be abandoned like—"

"Let go of my grandson," he demanded.

She almost violently tapped her forehead with a finger. "Think about what you're doing here!"

"I've given it enough thought. You cityfolk don't know what it's like. To see your town grow decrepit and to just watch it happen." He scoffed, and Cecilia heard a hint of a Gastly's laugh behind the rattling church doors. "If we abandon this place, we have nothing left."

"What if Ari dies?" She knew no deaths would come, but she couldn't imagine being like this. To be willing to throw it all away thanks to faith and because of bitterness at change. To stare disaster right in the face and avert your eyes because it was more convenient to pretend nothing was happening—

Oh.

Well, that was a bit on the nose, now, wasn't it?

"He will not. Lugia will keep us safe."

She could see it now. The mirror, the metaphor, the allegory, the reflection. And by the Legendaries, she hated staring at herself. "Nothing I can say will change your mind," she realized. "Not until it backfires so much you can no longer bury your head in the sand, and the consequences can no longer be ignored."

"I think it'd be best if you left," he said, ignoring her.

Cecilia walked out that door, and she could see the haze starting to form. That was too soon; the ghost was speeding up his last act.

"We're facing the ghost," she said.

I know you said this isn't real, and you did prove it throughout this week, Slowking said. But it sure as hell feels real to me. I don't want to rain on your parade, but you did everything you could; we should leave. You've done enough, both to help these people and to pass whatever strange test you've been given.

"Not with physical violence," she sighed, pulling her shirt above her wrinkling nose. "With words."

Hm. That's not in the top five of worst ideas you've ever had, but it might as well be the sixth. You know what? I'll take it, though.

"No point putting in a barrier around the church; they'll start running pretty soon," she muttered.

One by one, her Pokemon popped out of their balls and followed her as she made her way toward where the ghost would be. Apologies had been needed, yes, along with an attempt to try, but the Unovan understood now that she had also needed a change of character. They'd seen her personality bleed away into nothing as she remained the same person who had killed herself and forced them to squeeze the trigger, yet had been told that things would be different now despite no change coming from her character. Rancid smoke entered her throat and nose, a smell so horrid she could taste it all over her tongue. Was it worse this time around, or was her mind playing tricks on her?

That was fine. She'd been through Azelf's mind, a maze of physical pain she had willed herself through for the good of the world, even if she had failed to get them to open the door to their little irritating heart. Arceus, she fucking despised that Pokemon, God of Willpower or not. Toxicroak lent a helping hand when her knees faltered and her skin started to sting, and then tried to absorb the fumes before they could reach her. Talonflame, Scizor, and Slowking abated the poison as best they could with wind or barriers. Lehmhart pushed her forward with a finger so gentle it might as well have been a caress, helping her up the hill.

Zolst…

Zolst just watched and followed. But the fact that he wasn't at Lehmhart's throat and was with them was kindness enough.

There, on that little hill, stood her captor, her teacher, her tormentor, and her key. Six eyes within the thick fog, converging toward her in unison, three beings' whispers caressing her ears with praise, either slightly mocking, mildly raging or with a brush of compassion. From three, a whole was made and became this. A shapeless horror that would have sent any other into a panic, but someone whom she somehow felt at home with.

"I remember a few months ago," she started. "I was asked what Willpower was."

"Were you?" he said, two parts curious and another furious. His voice was far more distorted than before. "I'm afraid I didn't have access to those memories."

Cecilia breathed out a laugh. Even now, she was still minutely a Shard and those memories were protected. "I didn't need to make the villagers evacuate, did I? There was no test—or there was. It was just whatever I wanted it to be. You made me think, and with that trial, I did something. And doing something is better than nothing, even if I failed at what I wanted."

He grinned, all narrow, poisonous teeth. "Good. You shall be let into the theatre one last time."

A lance of solid poison pierced Cecilia's head, exploded, and she died.


Cecilia gasps for air—she's back in the theatre, but alone this time. "You really need to stop killing me," she sighs, hands grabbing at her face to see if it was still there. "There's this visceral element to it. I feel the tip of the lance piercing my head before everything blacks out. You could have just dissolved the dream."

On top of the stage shine letters spelling out 'THIRD DEATH', flashing in every color. This time, she can take her time to appreciate it. Her eyes stay transfixed by the lights, taking every shade in until the ghost speaks.

"Come on, now. Where's your love for flair and elegance?" He starts hovering in the air. "After seeing your entire life, you can't tell me it doesn't tickle a particular part of your brain."

Cecilia snorts. "You're right. I think I want to try theatre one of these days." She relaxes and realizes she can stand and move around the room. Yet she doesn't do so, instead remaining firmly seated with her legs crossed. "Getting into the life of someone else and feel what they were written to feel, really getting into character; it sounds interesting."

"Sylvestia loved the theatre," he speaks as if she is long gone, and Cecilia realizes she is. "It's what made her stop being a tool after the war."

Sylvestia, Fantina's predecessor. These were—her three Gengar. There was no doubt about it. "Was she the one I reminded you of?"

"Yes." He opens his mouth again, but the rest is left unspoken. "But I'm afraid I am a selfish ghost; knowledge about that part of her life will remain forever mine and my former teammates." He spread out his gaseous hands and exclaimed, "rejoice, girl, for you have reached the final act of this play!"

"You did not do everything perfectly," he says as he drifts in the air toward her. The gas coalesces around the seat next to hers. Light shines down on the stage, and her life plays in the background, yet they continue to speak. "Many opportunities you didn't see were lost, both with your Pokemon and with the people of Seabrook. Learning moments that would have served you well for your goals."

Cecilia speaks up. "But it's the attempt that counts." Her fingers drum against the armrest as she watches her first kiss with Grace, deep in the guts of Coronet. "The rage against the dying of my inner light."

"The candle's only just been lit; it would only take a breeze for it to vanish again."

Her hands clench into a fist. "I know. Sixteen years worth of damage can't be undone in two weeks." It was going by so fast. Snowpoint, now, and her battle with Candice, where Zolst evolved into a Zweilous and got his first two names. "I think I know what must be done."

"Do you know, or do you know?" Cecilia felt the chill from the roiling ghost. "That phrasing you used—what must be done. It is passive in nature, as if you aren't sure you're going to do it."

Cecilia stays silent for a long while.

The reunion with her friends in Eterna. Louis' departure. Grace's capture of Turtonator in Coronet. Her teaching Pauline to be a better battler. Her time in Hearthome, where she decided to capture Lehmhart. Meeting Grace's father—

One line sticks out to her.

"When I asked you to tell me about yourself," he specified. "You couldn't say anything, like there was a lack of identity there. That dancing answer felt like a cop-out too, although I'm sure there was some truth to it. I'm rather straightforward, so I'll tell you that overdependence on one person is never a good thing, dating or not."

"I owe her a talk," Cecilia says. "Maybe a few, even. Just to see where we stand."

"You still hope you can make things work, don't you?" the three Gengar turned one mind said with a hint of disapproval. "Don't you get it? My thesis—"

"I know it!" she snaps. "I know that you think that Grace has been the cause of everything, but that's not entirely true! My life isn't a play; you can't just put her at the center of everything and wrap it all with one neat little bow. I love her, and this year was just the worst, and I've made so many mistakes of my own that worsened both me and her and me and her and me and her in this endless fucking cycle, and I just want to try to start over from zero. With boundaries and communication and effort." The Unovan takes a deep breath as she watches Abel confront her in Hearthome. "But it might be too late." Tears well up in her eyes.

"Poor thing. You want to wear your heart on your sleeve, don't you?" Cold shadows wrap around her shoulders. "So young, so emotional deep down; it pains me to see kin like this."

Cecilia wipes the corner of her eyes with her fingers. "There's no harm in hoping for the best, is there?" She wants to unlearn that expecting the worst at all times; she wants to believe that Grace waited. "Disappointment will come either way; you can either pretend it doesn't bother you or cry about it."

Veilstone. Her first loss to Lauren. Cecilia sees how intensely Grace studies Maylene—further than any other Gym Leader she's ever done, down to her micro-movements, and tells her about it as advice. Cecilia remembers being so displeased with that both during the fight, and to a lesser extent after. Such interest paired with such dislike—or was it dislike? Cecilia can't tell; she realizes that she's become horrible at reading Grace when she isn't depressed.

"It is your life, not mine," he acknowledges. "But you already know deep down. That is why you nearly broke up with her."

She ignores him and keeps watching, making sure to take everything in. And by the Legendaries, her past self is so happy until Sunyshore that she barely recognizes herself. It speeds by in a flash like it's trying to make a statement about her life. The play goes faster, ever faster, until she dies on Coronet to Perish Song and the first thing she sees—

"Three times your savior after three of your deaths," Gengar says. "So it is, and so it will be, that you've been conditioned to never function without her."

"I know."

"You think you know," he pauses, and six eyes go in front of her as the play freezes in time, "but you do not know it entirely. She revived you once, twice, but not thrice. You might breathe and your heart might beat, but you're still dead."

"And let me guess," she chuckled, "you're the one reviving me this time?"

He cackled, growled, and sighed at the same time. "No. You're saving yourself. One small step, followed by another, and another, until you build enough momentum to stand on your own two legs. Let me ask you this, Cecilia. What have you learned the last two weeks?"

"I learned that I hate how sand feels in my shoes. I learned how to make a Magikarp edible." She wrinkles her nose at that one. "I learned how to repair a pier and use my hands for manual labor. I learned that I hate manual labor. I learned how to watch the ocean and enjoy myself in the little quirks in the waves. I began to focus on the nuances of shapes, shades, and textures, and eventually, I made peace with the fact that I'd never or rarely see color ever again—even if—even if it's going to be difficult. I learned about shipping supply lines and small town economies. I learned about…" she continues to list everything she learned in Seabrook, each experience that made her just a little more human each time. There's something new stirring within her—a hunger, a need to experience everything she's missed in hopes of leaving no stone unturned.

"Then there is nothing left to be said."

"Then there is nothing left to be said," she echoes. "And I think I did a damn good job, all things considered. You gave me barely anything."

Gengar chuckled, three distinct laughs that she couldn't help but grin at. "Do me a favor. When you see that dangerous breeze, tell her Elekid that we miss him, but that just like I won't be seeing you again, I won't be seeing him. Get Cynthia off my back so she stops looking for me."

She blinks, feeling mildly confused. "If that is your choice, I will. But why?"

"Because I help once and never again. I will not be showing up in the real world to attack Seabrook; you must take your experience gained here and use them in new circumstances." The amalgamation of Gengar stares at her with satisfaction. "I hope you grow into a fulfilled person, Cecilia. Do not tell anyone of the details of this dream."

The play ends.

"Go forth and be born into this world for the third time and hopefully the last."

The curtains close.


Cecilia woke up to the sound of rain pattering Slowking's barrier above her, and she felt like she'd slept for twenty-four hours straight. Her muscles felt sluggish and taut, her throat felt the driest it had ever been, and she was absolutely famished.

Her entire team was staring at her and looked to have been in the middle of a heated debate while she slept. Scizor patted her on the head with a claw while Toxicroak jumped onto her sleeping bag. Lehmhart let out a celebratory song and the ground below him shook with his excitement. Talonflame rubbed her head on her trainer's neck with a gentle coo, and while Zolst acted like he didn't care, he'd been floating there in worry.

Slowking looked at her with an expression that can only be called sheer relief. Oh, thank God! You're up late, he noticed. I was going to wake you up, but every time I was about to try I felt this primal fear within me, like I was about to die. I pushed through anyway, but you wouldn't wake. That might be why you're a little wet.

She looked at her shirt, which was completely soaked, and shivered. "That's okay; I love all of you." Their eyes widened at those words. "I've just been through the longest and strangest of dreams."

Good things, I hope? Slowking said. Something's different about you.

"Only the best." She did her best to give her attention to every Pokemon with pets or kind words, and even a kiss on Talonflame's forehead. "Things will be different from now on—I think we should stay around here a week before we go back. Oh, and Slowking?"

Yes, my lady?

The clouds above her thinned as the skies cleared, and the rain gradually slowed to a stop. The scene felt like an old film—the grays of the sky lightening as the clouds parted. The landscape, once blurred by the downpour, now stood sharp and clear, a quiet moment of peace. There was a certain beauty in the simplicity of the contrast, like a fresh page turning in her life.

Or curtains opening once more.

For the third time, Cecilia asked herself what was it all for?

To learn to be true to herself.

"I think I never liked dancing," she laughed.

A/N: Okay. Before my power scalers start going insane, here is a little rundown so I can get ahead of these and just in case there are questions.

Are the three Gengar domain holders? No, not every powerful Pokemon holds a Domain. They are normal Pokemon.

Why are they combined into one being when Honey said he was raised by three? They can meld their minds and bodies together and separate at will, it just takes a while. Usually a few days.

How did they create such a realistic, wide dream? They belonged to a Gym Leader once soldier (Interlude - Fantina) who specialized in illusions. Long story short, they were hanging out on the route before Cecilia ever got there because Grace asked Cynthia if she could find them. They're good enough at infiltration to hide from a Slowking while they spent days looking through her memories. When they were ready, they put Cecilia under an advanced form of super-advanced Hypnosis. Like Fantina herself, Sylvestia was the most powerful of the Gym Leaders and was what I'd call Elite Four level when she died; her Pokemon have had decades to grow since then. They also have a troupe of around 150-200 ghosts following them around these days for entertainment (the number varies a lot) to help them support that illusion without it collapsing in on itself. People in Seabrook are real, though Gengar might have taken some creative liberties with a lot of their personalities. It does take a lot out of the Gengar, even if it doesn't show in the dream because, well, it's a dream where they appear at their strongest.


Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap, menirx, Pierre-Luc J., Alex A., Bridie, Christopher M
 
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Interlude - Through Their Eyes New
INTERLUDE - THROUGH THEIR EYES

"So I just gotta grab your wrist for ten minutes?" Chase asked, finding it difficult not to stare at Grace like she was a moron. "That's it? Nothing else?"

His friend kept shifting uncomfortably like she'd been condemned to the death penalty, and the glances she kept giving her mother, who stood there cross armed, didn't help. It was Chase's first time seeing one of Grace's parents, and they looked so similar you could have thought they'd been cloned. Yeah, Samantha Pastel was about an inch taller, had blue eyes instead of green, and had more freckles, but other than that, she was like what Chase figured Grace would look like in her forties. Honestly, he was surprised she'd come all the way to Canalave for this, all the way to his Pokemon Center room. He was glad that he hadn't been the one to get to Twinleaf, of all places.

He hadn't even bothered to ask why Grace's mother was here. His friend had made sure to tell him not to ask a million times, nearly beating it into his skull. He rolled forward in his chair and outstretched his arm.

"No need to look like I'm about to torture you," he said.

"Just grab it."

Sheesh, she was annoyed today. Well, he wasn't going to ask any questions; he had a bunch of shit to do because Cecilia wanted to meet him and Louis in Sandgem in around a week, and if he was going to spend parts of a day not hard at work, then he was going to make up for it in the the days before. Of course, Cece had told him not to tell Grace, and that she was going to text her to talk things out right afterward.

Things were progressing along quite well with his team, even if they'd had to pivot entirely on the type of moves they used to train. The delay had really helped buy him the time he needed. The Conference was supposed to begin on the fifth of July, now, and already, Roark had been the second to reopen his Gym. More would follow soon enough—hopefully Byron soon.

Chase grabbed Grace's arm, and she immediately shut her eyes, making a weird ass sound that made him want to call her a weirdo. She reopened them a few seconds later with the most disappointed look Chase had ever seen from her. Her lips went flat, and she let out a little 'huh'.

Chase raised an eyebrow. "What's that mean?"

"Nothing. I'm just surprised." She twisted her wrist in his hold a little and hummed again.

"Why are you so fuckin' sweaty?" he asked, ignoring the displeased look in Samantha's eyes when he swore. So what? Get over it, lady. "Is it working? Are you tainting me?"

"Yeah… it's a lot less than I thought, though." She stared intently at his hand with widened eyes. She was seeing something there, so at least Chase knew she wasn't full of shit. "See, mom? I told you it was working, and you made a big deal out of nothing!"

"Then why not do this with your therapist instead of unqualified people?" Samantha foot tapped irritatingly against the ground.

Why was he catching strays? He hadn't asked for any of this.

"Because it works better with her!" Her wrist shook violently in Chase's grasp. "Can you finally stop? I showed you proof, but now you're just moving the goal posts!"

"I'm just worried you might be making a mistake." She shook her head. "I do believe you more now, but this reaction is a lot more different than you had with Maylene." Samantha sighed. "I just want you to be happy."

"Look, it's a new experience for me too. All of this." She stared down at Chase's hand and let out a little laugh. "When Cecilia comes back, we'll—we'll talk. It's all I wanted, but she left, and—and it crushed me. I'm getting better, aren't I? Compared to before?"

"You are."

"I just wish you believed in me—" Grace cut herself off. "Sorry, that sounded kind of guilt trippy. I'm trying to get better with that."

Her mother's eyes softened, and the argument stopped. Arceus help him. Ten minutes was a fucking eternity to hear. That name did activate a few alarms in his head, because—well, no, she wasn't the cause of the break, but she sure as hell had added onto the pile of reasons for it.

He'd tell Cecilia about it when she came back.



Three days later.

Denzel's back went through phases now. Sometimes, especially during the early mornings right after he woke up, it hurt so much that it felt like the end of the world, making it impossible to focus on anything else. He literally just had to sit there and endure it. Luckily, the pain was more manageable at other times of the day, and there was no denying that he was getting better. He had walked for the first time a week ago and could manage to move around without a wheelchair when it wasn't morning, even if he was slow about it. His condition was improving, and because of that, his parents had given him a little room to breathe.

They didn't know Grace was going to arrive any minute now. They hadn't seen each other since Justin's funeral, and while they texted a lot—she seemed much happier now than before—they hadn't met in person at all. He had to admit, he missed her. It was odd to spend so little time with her after traveling together for so long, but he got over it by taking it as training for what would happen when she flew to Unova.

Okay, it wasn't that bad. There was no time zone difference, and she was one Teleport away, but he was allowed to be a little dramatic.

Denzel heard footsteps beyond his door, along with two voices. One, he recognized easily. The other—

He didn't have time to think about it. There was a soft knock on the door as Grace called out her name, and he yelled at her to come in. Denzel instinctively felt the need to straighten his back when Maylene Suzuki followed behind her and instantly killed the shitty joke he'd prepared telling Grace that he thought she'd forgotten about him. The two of them were all laughs and giggles as they entered his hospital room—Arceus, it felt weird to see a Gym Leader in casual clothing and outside of their Gym. The closest example Denzel could think of was when you ran into your teacher outside of school, which in Twinleaf had somehow happened less than you would think.

"Nice to meet you—I guess?" Denzel tried. It was his first time actually seeing her in a casual setting. "I'm Denzel Williams. Uh, thinking back, our battle was pretty fun. If you remember it."

"Ew. You're so stiff," Grace complained, wrinkling. "Don't talk to her about work. Relax, okay? She's not going to eat you; she's just a person."

Maylene dragged two chairs close to his bed. "I've heard a lot of cool things about you! I did kind of forgot our battle, though." She inclined her head a little at Grace, who thanked her for the chair. She then sat on hers—backwards, leaning against the backrest. There was this weird thing they both did with their knees, slowly letting them drift toward each other until they swiftly took them away. "I hope that's okay? I go through hundreds and hundreds; it gets a little difficult to remember."

"Oh yeah, that's totally fine; I didn't actually expect you to remember." Denzel had spoken to enough new people that he knew to brush off any awkwardness if he was offered a lifeline. "What does bring you here, actually?"

"The dork and I were hanging out." She nudged her head sideways. Dork? Maylene was a lot less formal than Denzel thought given what he'd heard—wait, why in the world was Grace looking at her like that? "She told me she doublebooked and forgot that she'd planned to go see you, so here I am."

"I didn't doublebook," Grace whined. "I just thought you'd be available at night. You know, like the other days you work?"

"You'll have to forgive me, Grace," Maylene said, tone dripping with playful sarcasm. "I sometimes take my breaks early so I can see you during the day because I like it when the sun shines on your face. It just brightens my day."

"That's not why—" she bit her lip and blushed. "I'll let you win this time, you knave."

"This time? I win every time. I should honestly get a prize for the amount of times I've rolled you," she boasted with an air of smugness around her.

What. The fuck?

Okay, yes, he had said he believed that Grace liked Maylene from what he'd heard about her, but he hadn't expected it to be this blatant. He felt so out of place here and in business that had nothing to do with him that he felt like he had been the one invading their privacy, and they were the ones in his room! The two kept bantering a little bit until Grace apparently remembered he existed and that maybe she shouldn't make fuck eyes at Maylene or flirt when he was literally right there.

"See how fun she is?" Never mind, she didn't have a clue. "That's why I wanted to introduce you! Plus, she told me that it'd be nice to meet one of my friends, at least."

"Erm. Have you—have you told Cece about this?" Denzel had to assume they were dating and that she'd broken up with Cecilia before she left, or something that wouldn't make this horrible. "About you two, I mean."

"Oh, she knows we're hanging out," Grace said. "And I plan to tell her the details when she comes back. I—I know how it might look, but there's nothing going on." The words sounded almost rehearsed.

Could he have misjudged—no, there was just no way. "And Cecilia knows?" he asked again.

"I mean, she's out in the wilderness down south who knows where; I can't keep her updated on every little action I take despite wanting to." Grace bit the inside of her mouth, and her hand tensed on top of her shorts. That had come out a little bitter. "I hope she's doing well; I just wish we could have talked, you know? Or that she would talk to me. But I was toxic to her, and you can't go back in the past. No matter what state she comes back in, I have to tell her. Hiding our friendship would be wrong."

He knew she'd struggled to come to terms with Cece leaving. She'd ranted about it in their texts in those early days, but those had largely stopped after Craig's ceremony. There was a heavy silence that made Denzel want to crawl out of his skin. These were the bane of his existence. Not only did Grace look a little regretful, Maylene's expression, while hard to read, couldn't be described as positive, either.

"Sorry for killing the vibes," Denzel said with a slight, apologetic smile. "So, what's up with you, Grace? Anything I missed?"

He could have pressed for more information about the nature of this weird entangled relationship, but he couldn't.

Not when he couldn't recall seeing Grace this happy in months.

So long as Cece and she spoke, it'd be okay.



Two days later.

"Alright, are you ready?" Maylene asked. She was all smiles and could barely contain her excitement. "You didn't peek, right?"

"What? Me? I would never go against the sanctity of surprises." Candice wrapped an arm around Maylene's shoulder and looked right at Gardenia. "I wouldn't say the same about her; she can be devious, as you know."

"Very devious," Maylene added.

Gardenia rolled her eyes, noting to herself that Maylene gotten a lot more combative lately. Maylene had always been this way, especially with Candice, but she'd rarely goof off like this with Gardenia, especially when she was about to present her brand new battlefield. Gardenia knew how much she'd been thinking about reworking her field, and back in the day she would have been incredibly nervous about her and Candice's opinions. She used to always seek validation from her seniors because of how unsure she was of her own capabilities as a Gym Leader. It was just nice to see her confident and happier, especially after Coronet.

Maylene wormed herself away from Candice's hold—Gardenia somewhat wished her best friend would do that with her as well—and placed her full palm on the double doors leading to her side of the battlefield. "Here goes."

They swung open with some oomph, and Candice sprinted over like a little kid, arms swinging wildly at her side. She hadn't really needed to run because they could already see spires of stone rising high in the air.

The heart of the battlefield resembled a small, ancient city of stone, with narrow alleyways, towering stone pillars, and uneven, cobblestone streets that crisscrossed in tight patterns. The walls were high and imposing, constructed from large weathered gray stones, and they created a labyrinthine effect, limiting visibility and movement for both trainers and Pokemon alike. The ground was uneven, with cracks and small boulders scattered throughout, making it difficult for Pokemon to gain any significant speed or maneuverability. If there were a common theme here Gardenia would describe this with, it was dense and oppressive.

Maylene's fighting types were generally Pokemon who you really didn't want to get close to, or you would just lose nine times out of ten. This was going to make any speedsters who weren't fliers or incredibly agile have to work for their buck to keep away from Maymay's Pokemon who would maneuver easier within the dense towers. Sure, you could destroy them, but that was a lot of dense stone to go through unless you brought some serious firepower, and she'd be able to counter you really well while you were doing so. Most of Maylene's Pokemon knew at least a few rock type moves to counter flying types, so using the shattered stone to their advantage would be easy.

Gardenia allowed herself to digest the sight and figured that this would make Maylene a really tough early Gym to tackle, and one that would get more manageable the later you battled her thanks to having more tools at your disposal to deal with the sheer advantage she'd have on the field. She wouldn't be a walk in the park either, but it would be relatively easier to fight her later on.

"So you made your choice, huh?" Gardenia noted amidst a million compliments from Candice. Months ago, shortly after Maylene's breakdown after her Gym Battle with Grace, Gardenia had called her to ask her to decide what kind of Gym Leader she wanted to be.

There were plenty of options beyond the simple slider between 'easy' or 'tough.' A Gym was a spectrum with plenty of attributes to define it, be it its Leader, arena, Gym Trainers, et cetera, et cetera—and other regions with more complicated processes to actually battle Gym Leaders were even more in-depth. Gosh, Gardenia wished she could turn her Gym into a hedge maze full of puzzles, riddles, and ambushes. She hoped Sinnoh would adopt the Unovan model would be adopted in Sinnoh within her tenure.

"I want to have a reputation." Maylene nodded along. "I mean, it's like you said, right? It's all about consistency. I want to be a consistent pain in the butt and force people to adapt to me," she declared with determination in her voice and a clenched fist.

"Oh, she's in fire!" Candice joked. "On a serious note, though, I really like it! It's probably the most unique Gym design after Wake; I might rework mine before the next Circuit too, whenever I have time. What are the costs like?"

"I've run it for three battles so far as a test run; it's not as bad as you'd think," Maylene said with a hint of embarrassment. Gardenia remembered her talking about some money issues, but she'd never gone into much detail. "You don't have to rebuild it the same every time—in fact, it's better to have variation. Roark's already said he'll lend me some rock types so I don't have to train up some of my own to fix this up, and I caught some a few weeks back down south when I went to look for more fighting types. They were very nice about wanting to work with me for a few months."

Candice's mouth fell open. "What?! That hard-ass lent you something for free?" She crossed her arms and stewed in place for a few seconds. "All I got was that fossil for my birthday…"

"Candice, that was an extremely generous gift," Gardenia sighed, still admiring the towers. "An Amaura costs a lot, and they're only found in Kalos and northern Paldea—"

"I know, I know!" she groaned. "I just wanted to complain about him for fun! This is inspiring, Maymay!" Gardenia noticed Maylene frowning a little at the nickname. "I think we've all been resting on our laurels for too long; we got too comfortable in keeping the way our boring predecessors did it! Except grandma; she was awesome."

"Sofia was pretty great…" Gardenia mumbled. Eterna's old Gym Leader had been exceedingly strict to a fault, but that had been because she'd seen potential in her. She needed to call her one of these days so they could catch up.

Candice shrugged. "Meh. She hated me." They had been co-workers for a year, since Candice had ascended to her position earlier than Gardenia.

"That's probably because you're so unserious," Nia shot back with a wry smile. "I like that about you."

"Look at you, being all flirty. What's with that?" Candice tilted her head.

Hm?

Hm?

Hm?


"It's far from the first time I compliment you," she said, as calm as she usually was. Deep inside the recesses of her brain, she was having a massive crisis. Candice had never, ever picked up on any signs. "Do you want me to be flirty?" There, simple and easy to back out of. Nia was giving her the opportunity to take this further should she want to.

Candice elbowed Maylene in the arm and nudged her head toward Gardenia. "Heh. She's shitting bricks right now."

"Can you two just date already?" Maylene sighed. "I'm tired of this."

Why in the world would she—Gardenia had never felt such betrayal! For one, she had no idea if Maylene knew how delicate the situation was in Craig's death and the literal years of slow build-up and planning. Two, people didn't just say that out of the blue. What if you ruined things between the two people you were trying to get together?

"That's a pretty good idea." Candice had her hand pensively on her chin, nodding along. "We should go ice fishing and make out in an igloo or something."

"Are—are you serious, Candice?" Nia stuttered.

"Oh, don't worry, we'd release the water types afterward; it's just a secret hobby of mine." It wasn't secret at all. Gardenia had already documented all of Candice's hobbies and color-coded them from the ones she'd be willing to try to the ones she wasn't okay with. Ice fishing was in the orange category, which meant 'only if she really wants to,' which were next to red for 'never do this,' and yellow for 'maybe, depending on my mood.' "Well, it'd probably have to wait; I'm a busy Bidoof these days, as you know. So, Maymay, you've got to tell me about what inspired you to build this sick battlefield. I want to squeeze your brain juices so I can change mine too."

Maylene scratched the back of her head. "It was actually kind of Grace. Well, she didn't actually give me the idea; I've just been thinking about our fight a lot lately and liked the idea of obstructing vision for both the trainer and the Pokemon to see how they'd adapt…"

Gardenia let the explanation fade into the background as she froze in place and tried to make sense of the enigma that was Candice. Even after years of knowing each other, she'd never wholly figured her out, which was part of why she was so into her. Gardenia had been planning to confess for weeks. First, she'd ask her to 'hang out' on something that would actually be a date when they had time off work in Eterna City. First, a drink out at a bar to loosen her nerves up a little, followed by an hour or two at a manga café so they could read some sappy romance thing Candice was into—not because she actually supported the main couple, but because she really liked some side character who Gardenia knew had very little screen time. Then a stroll outside the city to collect some flowers for her personal garden, a round of bowling, and so on and so forth so they each got to do something they were familiar with and liked in turns while the other could partake in the other girl's hobby. They would have spent the entire day together until the sunset, where they'd stroll through the Eterna City Gardens, and when the sun hit the flowers just right in the central plaza, Gardenia would have confessed—

"Nia? You look on edge," Candice so helpfully noticed. "Did me asking you out dazzle you that much?" She pushed herself into a spin before planting a foot on the ground and making a 'V' sign with her fingers in front of her eyes and a shining smile. Gardenia couldn't help but laugh. "There you go; that's better."

It would have been so perfect.

But maybe this could be fine too.

"So, are we girlfriends now?" Nia asked.

"Sure! Not like there's much that'll change. I guess I have more excuses to hang out at your Gym and leave your closet in shambles."

"Congrats, you two. Now you can stop circling each other, and you can actually enjoy yourselves." Maylene said with a hint of sadness. "Anyway, I better show you two this sick new spreadsheet system I came up with to track the Gym's Pokemon—" her phone rang in her pocket. She picked it up, stared at it for a split-second with the screen angled a little away from them, and any sign of negativity disappeared off her face as if it had never been there. She was obviously trying to contain a grin. "Oh—I gotta pick this up, girls, sorry!"

She hurried back through the double doors so fast that she moved more like a superhuman than a fifteen-year-old girl. Gardenia heard her say, 'How's my favorite dork doing today?' before the door closed behind her.

"Wha—did we miss something?" Candice whispered, slowly walking close to Gardenia. The grass type specialist had to take a conscious breath to stop herself from taking a step back. She was so hyper-aware of her… girlfriend now that it was tough to stick too close.

Honestly, it really hadn't sunk in yet. All of that build-up for… this?

"I think we might have?" Nia said, her tone rising near the end. "Her voice is completely different on the phone. Loud and a little higher. There's also, like, genuine joy. Joy, joy, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah. Do you think that's Grace? It must be, right?" Candice squinted at the door as if that would help her see through it. "Should we listen in?"

"Absolutely not."

"Aw."

"We should ask her about it when she comes back instead."

Candice grinned, flashing her very nice teeth. Her canines were so sharp. "You're the best, Nia!" She dashed in and hugged her, making Gardenia freeze in place for a moment before her hands wrapped around her… girlfriend's body. "That feels nice," Candice quietly said. "It's a little different now, actually."

"We should talk more about this. A relationship is complicated… we'll have to disclose it to Cynth and the League, but I'm sure she'll approve. In terms of public perception, it'd be better to hide it until Snowpoint's port is fixed, at least. It'll be important to remain unbiased in decisions having to do with our cities because there could be conflict of interest issues; we might have to recuse ourselves from decision-making entirely to our City Councils when making decisions that have to do with each other's cities—" she stopped for a moment, expecting a joke of some kind, but Candice was actually nodding along and giving Gardenia her full attention. It was reassuring, in a way. "Are you going to remember all of this?"

"I have a really good memory, so yeah."

Gardenia could attest to that. "We should take it slow for now. Breaching the boundary between best friends and girlfriends is dangerous; we should take it one step at a time. Instead of your making out in an igloo idea that would obviously lead to something else, why don't we do this date I had planned for us in like three weeks?" Okay, the truth was, even if Gardenia believed what she was saying, she also didn't want all of that planning to go to waste. "You'll love it. Promise."

"Hm… fine, but if I don't, you owe me something."

"You're just gonna say that you didn't like it anyway—" a laugh from Maylene through the door interrupted her. "We should probably wait to talk about this."

"Agreed." They let go of each other. "She never laughs like that with us."

"Well, she's obviously in love; we know this," Gardenia said. "I just didn't know they were on a 'my favorite dork' basis. That's pretty insane."

"She must have found a way to break up with Cecilia Obel, right?" Candice asked, and when Gardenia just stared at her with a defeated, resigned look, she grimaced. "Legendaries, they're so fucking messy."

"I think we might not know the half of it."

It took another minute for Maylene to come back out, and Candice whispered that it was as if someone had looked up 'happiness' online and put it in the images section. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed with natural warmth, and a wide smile stretched across her face—but that specific kind of smile you made when your cheeks hurt from laughing too much.

"Had some fun in there?" Candice asked, wriggling her eyebrows.

"What?" Maylene asked. Genuinely asked. "Stop being so weird; it was just a phone call."

"With?" Gardenia pressed.

Maylene shuffled uncomfortably, hands flat at her sides. She clearly didn't like where these questions were going. "Grace. Why?"

Candice shrugged. "It just sounded awfully chummy."

"Wha—did you spy on me?!" There was a genuine glint of panic in her eyes, along with anger.

"No!" Nia yelled. "You started to talk before you closed the door."

"What did I say?"

Candice spoke up again. "Your face lit up like the night sky when she called; you called her your favorite dork, and she was seemingly fine with that. It looks like you're more than so-called friends."

"We're not. I wish we were, but we're not, and we never will be." A fist clenched at her side, nails digging into her palm. "I thought I told you to stop talking about that stuff." One didn't have to be Gardenia to tell Maylene was feeling so uncomfortable she wanted to jump out of her skin.

Gardenia sighed. "Maymay, look—if she likes you back, you can just… wait until Cecilia comes back. Stop all of this for a while. Then Grace can talk to her and decide what she really wants."

"You're the ones who egged me on! I was ready to give up!" Maylene yelled, her voice carrying further due to her ire. That was partly true, but honestly, Gardenia never expected a taken girl to be willing to go so far. She thought Grace would just ignore Maylene for the most part, and there was no way to know Cecilia Obel would just disappear into the wilderness and go no contact. "You two don't—you wouldn't understand!"

It was easy to forget that Maymay was a teen sometimes. The situation might be complicated, but there was no way it was as convoluted as she made it sound.

"We just don't want you to make a mistake," Gardenia said as gently as she could. "And you're right. I apologize for keeping you on this path."

Maylene shook her head almost violently. "I can't. She needs me. I've been helping her with her issues, and she's been getting so much healthier. I just—she's not ready yet. It would crush her."

Gardenia searched deep in Maylene's eyes and saw a partial truth. Her friend wanted this, too, no matter how much she denied it. The Gym Leader walked up to Maylene and clutched her shoulders tightly. "This girl isn't leading you on while her girlfriend is away, is she? Because if she is, I'll have some words—"

"She isn't! God, you're being so weird!" Maylene shook her hands off. "You better not be weird when she goes to your Gym!"

"I won't be." She wouldn't be weird, but she would have questions.

"We're going to tell Cecilia when she comes back, so we're good on that front. And we aren't actually doing anything physical like… kissing, okay? We just hang out and talk on the phone sometimes; it's not a big deal. I talk to her less than I do to both of you!" Maylene groaned. "I'm seeing her again tomorrow so she can show me how she practices the piano. She has an important test coming up."

Gardenia was honestly really proud of Candice for not making a joke about Grace serenading her with music. Instead, they shared a look of acknowledgment at how horrible this was all going to be when it inevitably blew up. They weren't her guardians, just friends. All they could do was give advice and hope she'd take them up on it.



One day later.

It was interesting, Maylene thought, to see Grace so focused on something as banal as piano. The Gym Leader tried to search her memories for another moment she'd seen her so profoundly focused, but the only ones that ever came up were the unpleasant ones. One of these instances was the first time they ever met face to face during her Gym Battle. Maylene didn't really remember what she'd thought of Grace at first—before the fight even began, and she'd been walking up on that platform. Memories of before she'd gotten a hold on schedule, job, and life in general were a little blurry.

Then, there were the days and nights where they climbed Coronet together with the fate of the world uncertain, and anything in front of Grace barring them from that goal became an obstacle to be eliminated, and her eyes became sharp with an air of resignation about them. Like this was just what needed to be done. Some nights, the young girl still found it difficult to imagine those days had been real. That it had been her climbing that coffin. She wasn't sure she would have been able to do it as she was today. Coming back from saving the world and seeing a fraction of these beings' power had a way of making you more scared of things, and she actually was doing well in her life, now. Relatively speaking.

Maylene shook her head and shut her eyes at the queasy feeling thinking of Coronet still gave her. Even now, staring in the mountain's direction made her nauseous. It was just so large, so all-encompassing, so impossible to understand—

"Maylene? You okay?" Grace's fingers hovered uncertainly above her electric piano which was actually called keyboard for some dumb reason. The focus on her face melted away—her brows raised a smidge, and her mouth evened out because she stopped biting her tongue or bottom lip. All that remained was worry.

Maylene tried to give her the best smile she could manage, but she knew it wouldn't fool her, so she just gave up halfway anyway. Her mouth just ended up making a weird lip twitch. "Yeah. I'm just thinking about…" Maylene didn't want to sour the mood, nor did she want Grace to recall these memories either, but then her 'friend' would get angry at her. Maylene knew Grace already must have had five retorts ready for when she tried to brush it off. "I was thinking about Coronet."

"Wanna talk about it?" Grace put away her piano for now. They were alone in Maylene's room, so she was just sitting on the mat-covered floor. Well, Maylene was actually lying on her stomach, legs dangling in the air and leaning against her palm as she watched Grace practice piano for some test at her next class. The Gym Leader found it weird, given that she couldn't focus unless she was alone without much noise, but she wouldn't say no to the girl she had a crush on offering to play music for her.

Oh, and she'd come in the cutest fucking overalls. Pale blue denim over a baggy white shirt. They were just normal clothes, but she was so, so adorable in them! Maylene wanted to poke her puffy little flushed cheeks and pamper her so badly…

"You look like, way happier than thirty seconds ago," Grace noted. "What's going on inside your head?" Before Maylene could answer, the blonde groaned. "Ugh, shut up."

"Mesprit again?" Maylene asked.

"Another unneeded comment, yes. They like stirring the pot," she said with a drawn-out sigh. Maylene had noticed that she'd spoken to Mesprit more frequently these days. "Anyway, talk to me, Maymay."

Her heart squeezed at that nickname. Grace didn't use it often—six times, including that night at her house; Maylene had counted—but she managed to utilize it in the best moments to get something out of her. "You're good, you know that?" Maylene sat up.

"The best," she smugly said as the Gym Leader sat next to her. "At least when I'm not trying to learn this partition by heart."

"Partition? What's that mean?"

"Oh, it's like—the score or music sheet." She tapped on the thin piece of paper on her lap, which had been sitting under the piano. "My teacher calls it partition because she's obsessed with Kalosian music terms. I guess it slipped into my language." Her eyes widened slightly, and she gently pushed Maylene's shoulder—Maylene had started wearing clothes with sleeves for this. "Hey! Don't try to avoid the topic!"

"I wasn't!" Maylene yelled. "I swear!"

Two piercing green eyes squinted at her. "I'll believe you," Grace huffed before her shoulder touched Maylene's. And stayed there. "Therapy not going okay? How's your new guy? That guy with the fake-sounding name."

"Doctor Jack Jones isn't that bad!"

"I'm not saying it's bad or making fun of him; I'd never make fun of a name. I'm just saying that it sounded fake when you told me."

Maylene snorted before pausing, fingers tapping her leg. Grace's hand trembled and moved less than an inch toward hers but stayed put like always. "I mean, it's going," Maylene said. "I talk a lot most days, and he always gives me things to think about before our next session; it's very helpful. It's just tough to… put everything behind me. I get reminded of Coronet by the most random stuff; you wouldn't believe it."

"Oh, no, I believe you," Grace said with a saddened look. There was a short quiet where Maylene could only hear herself breathing. Things were just so… comfortable with her. "Want to lay on my lap?"

"...sure." Her voice was so small at times like these. "Only for a little while, though. I don't want to disturb your studying."

Grace made a little pout. "That didn't sound very enthusiastic."

"Oh, my bad." Sarcasm dripped out of Maylene's tone, and she cleared her throat in the most exaggerated manner possible with a fist in front of her mouth. "May I have the privilege of lying my head on my lady's lap?" she asked in the most terrible of Galarian accents.

"What in the world was that?" Grace laughed—and Maylene loved to hear that sound. It was part of the reason why she tried to be so silly with her. "Do that again?"

Maylene took a deep breath, bracing herself before she placed her head on Grace's thighs. She could feel their warmth even through her clothes, a gentle sensation that made her heartbeat slow and made Maylene want to close her eyes and drift off to sleep.

"Only if you ask nicely," Maylene said.

"Maylene, can you please—actually, wait." The blonde grabbed her phone from a pocket, tapped her code, and clumsily hovered the camera over Maylene's face. "Could you please do that silly accent again? Please?"

Well, there was no way she could say no to those eyes, and this was harmless. "What if I did this and sang along to your piano thing?" It was difficult not to cringe at her own awful accent, but luckily no Galarians were nearby to take offense. "Oh, God, this is awful, innit?" The 'innit' made Grace break into laughter again, and Maylene felt her face flush. "I'm done!" she hastily declared in her normal voice.

"I was just starting to get immersed. I could almost imagine the streets of Motostoke—the smell, the sights, the sound of humming machinery—" she giggled. "It was really horrid, but in the best way."

"You're taking after me too much; your banter's getting better." Maylene was smiling so hard her mouth hurt. "One day, my little Grace will be all trained and ready to go toe-to-toe with the best in the nation."

Grace blushed—Maylene could see it so clearly. Grace's golden hair fell down toward her face, framing her flushed cheeks like a delicate curtain. The strands caught the light, glinting softly as they swayed with every subtle movement. "I'm already learning from the best." Her hand absentmindedly ran through Maylene's hair for a few seconds before her digits froze. There wasn't even any panic, just a subtle acknowledgment that they'd gone too far, followed by a needing stare, and finally, the removal of her hand. "Sorry."

Maylene swallowed. That had felt so good. "It's okay."

Things were a little awkward after that. How could Maylene stay on her lap after a breach of protocol? There were more and more of these every time they hung out; it was impossible to avoid. Here was the thing: Maylene was in love with Grace, and by now, she was pretty certain that she at least had a thing for her, too. There was just no way she would be doing all of this without feeling at least a spark. There had just been so many signals sent her way, and a lot of the time, it was Grace who went further than needed.

And it hurt to think about. Because there was just no way it was going to go anywhere. And she'd resigned to this since she realized her feelings—maybe even since further than that. Cecilia was going to come home, and sooner rather than later, according to what Grace had heard from Chase Karlson, and that would be that.

"Feeling down again?" Grace asked. "My lap's still available."

Maylene's jaw clenched. She could be so unknowingly cruel sometimes, and none of it was only her fault. "I'm fine." She lay back on her stomach. "Do your piano thing, you're—" so cute when you focus, "you better get a better grade than Jess. I don't want her to show you up again; I'll be rooting for you."

There was a little disappointed look on her face, and Maylene allowed herself to see if it would pass or devolve into catastrophizing. To her relief, Grace recovered rather quickly and grabbed her electric keyboard. She was steadily improving these days, even if Maylene still struggled to make her take therapy seriously.

Grace took a deep, consistent breath, and the focus came again. It was odd to see her stare down a piano like she wanted to murder it twice over. Fingers completely still; eyes narrow, intense, and barely blinking; her entire body seemed coiled, like a predator ready to strike. And it was so weird, because she wasn't even getting ready for an important battle or anything. She was just practicing the damn piano for a test worth ten percent of her grade!

Yet, her heart throbbed. A weird part of Maylene wanted Grace to look at her like that.

Then, she struck. Each note she landed was like a command, firm yet flowing, as if she were drawing the music out from the piano. Maylene mostly just listened, but she snuck in a video that she'd look at later. Her camera roll had started to be half Grace, half other things. She was just really photogenic, and Maylene liked to take silly pictures of people living in the moment without any time for them to try to adjust their faces with fake smiles or other expressions. Sometimes, she'd change her background to whatever picture of Grace she'd taken at the time. Right now, it was her running on a treadmill, her ponytail flowing behind her and sweat glistening on her skin.

Ah, that day had been so much fun, even if it was hard to focus because Grace had been looking down at her tummy half the time. Maylene didn't mind, though. She'd known that was the reaction her outfit would bring this time around, and she could have refused to wear it. Grace had worn something pretty revealing too—

The Gym Leader was snapped out of her thoughts by a groan and the end of the music.

"Fuck." Grace sighed, and her fingers tensed. "Arceus, I had it." She stared down the partition like it had hurt her personally.

"Did you mess up?" Maylene asked. "I couldn't tell."

"Yeah, I mistimed a note. I'll go again."

She went again, and again, and again, but she kept getting stuck at that same spot to the point where she was starting to get seriously frustrated with herself.

"You want to take a break?" Maylene asked.

Grace nodded. "My fingers are kind of tired. I wish I had Jess', she can just practice all day. Must be all that Alolan food her dad makes her."

"Hey, I'd never get tired either." Maylene wriggled her fingers in the air, and Grace averted her eyes for whatever reason. "I do wonder, though, why do you stop when you make one mistake? The last forty minutes I've seen you practice here, you've never made it past that spot. How close is it to the end?"

"I just—I have to get it right. It's about halfway."

Arceus, that was a long song. The class must have been an intense one. "But you run the risk of getting a lot less practice than needed."

Grace paused, wanting to fight back, but then she relented with a sigh and sagging shoulders. "I guess it's true that I haven't really done any work on the second half. And if I mess up during the actual test, I'll just have to continue."

"See?"

"It just feels wrong if things don't go perfectly, but I guess I should treat this like a battle. Things are going to go south eventually. No plan survives contact with the enemy." She nodded along to herself as if what she'd posited wasn't ludicrous. That was part of what made her so loveable.

"You're such a dummy," Maylene softly spoke.

Grace beamed like a little Lillipup at the name. "I'd really like to get full marks, though. Ms. Arden said the top five scorers by the end of the course can get referrals to her contacts and stuff, and she knows people in Unova."

"Damn. Kalos and Unova? She's pretty well-connected." Not that Maylene knew anything about the world of classical music, anyway. "Why don't I try and play you a little serenade while you cool off?"

"Maylene, you're going to play something really bad."

"Psht. Me? No way." She waved a hand dismissively. "Pass it to me."

She was horrible. Her playing was an abomination that had no right to be called music. In fact, it was so bad that Grace didn't even have it in her to shit-talk her. The weird part was that logically, her dexterity meant that she should have been good at piano, but it didn't matter when she had no idea what she was doing.

At least it made her laugh; that was always fun. Seeing Grace happier and better equipped to face her eighth Gym, the Conference, and Unova every day was worth everything in the world.

Eventually, their hour and a half came to a close. Maylene struggled to imagine the next time they were going to meet up. It would be at her Gym again, but this time, they were finally going to practice for fifteen minutes. Fifteen. That was such a long time, yet ten was too and it felt like it went by in a flash every time. It had been so long since the last time they practiced, and Grace had been really unsatisfied by the two times she'd done it with Chase. They had planned to watch some other movie, this time recommended by Grace, but Maylene wasn't sure they'd be able to wait until the end of their assigned time together this time.

There was just nothing to say about it, she'd told Maylene. It's just unpleasant, and it feels transactional. It's so weird with him, but I love it with you. It's special. Her mother staring at her so judgingly didn't help, along with the questions that followed.

Needless to say, Maylene was incredibly nervous, especially when there was one special request she wanted to make. She'd wanted to send it over text originally, but that would have felt… wrong. It needed to be face-to-face. So with Grace ready to leave her bedroom with her piano safely inside its case and strapped around her shoulder, Maylene garnered every bit of courage she could scrape within herself and called out.

"Grace, I have something to ask." She fiddled with her fingers, and her eyes constantly alternated between her feet and Grace. "And it's going to sound weird."

Grace blinked at her, all innocently. "I'm pretty sure nothing you could do or ask would weird me out."

"No, this is really weird. Like, I'm weirded out at myself just thinking about it."

"Now I'm curious," she said, leaning slightly in.

Maylene couldn't help but look at her lips. They were so plump—gah, focus! "Okay." She took a deep breath and continued. "So I've already said I've forgiven you for our Gym Battle, but you still struggle with that notion, right? Like you still feel like you have to atone even after all this time. And even after we've gotten so close."

Grace deflated. "Hmhm," was all she could muster.

"I feel like—like you need closure of some kind. And to be honest, I've thought about it a lot, and I think this might be the only way for you." For weeks, Maylene had wracked her mind trying to figure out a way to make Grace reach peace, and it had taken knowing her to figure out that the key to that lay in symbolism. "I think that—that it'd be good to talk about that day in more detail and what our thoughts about it are. And what we were thinking before, during, and after that day as best as we can remember." Maylene's voice turned into a near-inaudable whisper. "And maybe we should both wear what we were wearing that day, too. You know, so it's proper—"

"Wha—" the words died in Grace's throat.

"It's super weird right?" Maylene quickly said, accompanied by a nervous laugh. "I'm sorry, forget I ever brought it up—"

"No!" Grace yelled. "No, I—I was surprised, that's all. To be honest, I think it's a really good idea." Her foot kicked air, and she began looking away as well. "I don't really remember what I was wearing, to be honest. I've done my best not to think about it. Like, I thought about what it did to you, how horrible that was, and how I needed to apologize, but I wanted to avoid the actual battle as much as possible. I can look at the video—"

Words spilled out of Maylene's mouth immediately. "You were wearing that dark pleated skirt you have with those thick winter tights and a gray cotton sweater that was a little too big for you. You had your old white sneakers on because I'm pretty sure those are your most comfortable shoes, your hair was down like today, and you had your Poketch Watch on your right wrist."

"O—oh. You remember it." She slapped her forehead. "Wait, of course, it had such an effect on you. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. And I'll just be wearing my Gym Leader outfit." Words came easy now that Grace had agreed. "Oh, I guess it might be too hot outside; you can change when you get here. In the showers downstairs, or whatever."

"That sounds good." She gave herself a few seconds to think, eyes looking at the ceiling. "Yep, that sounds good," she repeated. "Emi has a decent amount of those clothes, but I should be able to get them from her easily."

Maylene raised an eyebrow. "She has your clothes?"

"Hmhm. We used to move around a lot while she was pretty stationary, so she kind of carried all of our clothes for a decent bit. Mostly, I just forgot to ask her for them back. I could have put them all at my dad's and my mom's by now."

"Ohhh," Maylene said, long and drawn out. "Yeah, I guess traveling with a million clothes is tough. You don't really think about this stuff when you don't participate in the Circuit."

"Now, who's the dummy?"

Maylene reached out to smooth the wrinkles from Grace's overalls she'd gotten while sitting, making her freeze up like a Deerling. "Don't try to turn that nickname back on me; I know you enjoy it way too much." She finished fixing up Grace's outfit and played with a strand of her hair. "You looked really good today, by the way."

"Wh—whu—" She was obviously too tongue-tied to say anything. "Thanks you."

Maylene chuckled. "Thanks you? Come on, try again."

"I—I mean thank you." Grace audibly gulped, and Maylene could tell she was looking at her lips. "See you next time?"

She let go of her hair and smiled. "Yep. Kadabra should be waiting for you outside." They had gotten good at letting the psychics know when and where Grace would need to be Teleported ahead of time.

Maylene guided Grace out of her bedroom and through her living quarters. For a moment, she thought about escorting her all the way out, but Grace knew her way around by now, and lingering too long might overextend their assigned time together. Maylene knew Grace enough to know that it was important to still be punctual and not be sloppy, or she would see it as a sign to start depending on her further. She needed people to keep her centered because she had no self-control. Or at least far less self-control than Maylene did.

"Um. Can I hug you?"

Case in point. She turned toward Maylene with that pleading look in her eyes, as if a refusal would utterly crush her. The 'yes' nearly flew out of Maylene's mouth like it would have been a prayer finally answered, but she bit her tongue, and her foot began to bounce on the floor.

"It'd kind of be a breach of contract, but like, if I'm the one hugging you over your clothes, our skin won't touch." Her pleading look turned almost rapacious, as if she wanted to jump Maylene's bones. "I just want to feel you. Because it's been so long since we've hugged, and I kind of miss it." They hadn't since Grace and Cecilia had come to her Gym to help her out with Oscar. "And you know, it'd be good for you too—"

"That's probably a bad idea," Maylene interrupted her, because she knew Grace would end up cornering her with words. Her restraint was already fraying as is. "I'd like to, don't get me wrong," she added as Grace's face fell. "I just think that—" Maylene really didn't want to say it out loud. "You get it, right?"

"I get it," she sighed, clearly disappointed. "Don't work too late?"

"No promises."

"You've got to take care of yourself," Grace said. "You're lucky I can't check in on you outside of our texting hours."

"You'd just use it as an excuse to chat," Maylene teased. "The last time, you just used it to complain about Ramon being annoying at that lunch." Grace had gone with Ramon a few days ago to train, since she'd been looking for a training partner and that Marley girl was giving her the slip. She had gotten pretty trashed, but she didn't really mind.

"Well, yeah! He doesn't know when to turn off his sarcasm setting! It was just getting mildly annoying when he kept shit-talking my Turtonator and making him angry for getting destroyed by his Delibird. You're way better at banter than he is."

"Grace, I could call you anything, and you'd probably like it." Maylene smirked when a retort didn't immediately come to shut her down.

"Not everything. Just most things," she finally said. Just then, she leaned in a little, her body spry and full of expectation. She wanted to be called something mean.

"You could at least hide how eager you are."

"Just say it."

Maylene snorted. "You're so such a weirdo."

"Hmhm." Grace closed her eyes, taking the words in.

"And you're my favorite idiot."

"Am I?"

She was so close now. Their knuckles and fingers grazed against each other, each point of contact lit aflame by the unspoken tension that crackled between them. Maylene contained the urge to cup her face and do something else, because while she was certain it would lead to what she wanted in the moment, it'd blow up in both of their faces. She couldn't do it.

So she played it off with a joke. "I'm actually serious—like sometimes, I wonder how you got this far."

It had the desired effect, drawing a little laugh and making Grace aware of how close she was so she would take a step back.

"Oh, and also, I would totally not use checking in on you at work as an excuse," she countered in that sweet voice she used when she wanted something. "I'd just check in on you occasionally, like once or twice throughout the day. It was just an idea, though; I wasn't actually serious."

"Uhuh. I believe you," Maylene lied. "You better get going; we don't want Kadabra to be angry."

"See you next time?" Grace asked, almost a question that Maylene thought was meant to ask, are you okay with this? Can we keep going?

She was, and they could. "See you next time."

Maylene fondly rubbed her fingers where she'd been touched. She wanted to cry, to call out her name and tell her everything she felt.

It'd probably be the last time they would see each other like this.

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Oh yea this is definitely a healthy thing Grace and Maylene have going on between them, and NEITHER of them are in denial. Definitely a stable and healthy way to build a DEFINITELY NOT ROMANTIC friendship. Uh-huh.

First, a drink out at a bar to loosen her nerves up a little, followed by an hour or two at a manga café so they could read some sappy romance thing Candice was into—not because she actually supported the main couple, but because she really liked some side character who Gardenia knew had very little screen time.

How fucking meta Candice. If anyone we've seen so far can 4th wall break ala Deadpool, it would be Candice & the whole Regigigas thing.
 

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