Chapter 331

Chapter 331

CHAPTER 331

"Excuse me?" Melody's tone was akin to a coiled Ekans waiting to strike out from the underbrush. "Did I understand that correctly?"

I grimaced, barely stifling a groan as my fingers curled into my bedsheets. Outside the window, Jubilife stretched before me, the sunlight flickering onto its building in the distance, while Mimi dozed peacefully on the windowsill, completely unaware. I hadn't stayed long after working out all of the details with Maylene and I's relationship. Instead, we'd taken the collective decision to send me on my way with the help of one of the usual Kadabra, who was pissed he'd needed to wake up for this. With the emotional highs of last night, we could have gone too fast and made a mistake. After having a long talk with my dad about potentially dating Maylene—who he only knew as the girl I'd cheated on Cecilia with and a Gym Leader—things were a little tense around the house, but he promised that he'd try to look past this if I never made such a mistake again.

Regardless, I'd called Melody the morning after to tell her about everything, and I had not slept for even a minute. "Cecilia broke up with me... because I cheated on her with Maylene," I hesitantly said again in between yawns. It still didn't feel real. Like I was going to wake up from this any second now. "And we're going to go public soon, if possible?"

There was a long sigh at the end of the line, followed by an almost silent curse. "This explains so much; I was going to call you in a few hours."

"Huh?"

"Check your messages," she ordered dryly. I'd rarely seen her like this; she reminded me of my father. Cold, focused anger, with the need to explain exactly where I'd gone wrong.

My laptop was still charging on my desk, so I moved over, pushing the notebook I'd planned to study stars on away. There was already an alert when I flipped it open—a message from Chase chewing me out and calling me every insult under the sun for hurting his best friend so badly. He had ended it with 'don't ever show your shitface to her or talk to me again, jackass.'

I hadn't replied, instead taking in the pain and diffusing it with the help of my Pokemon, who had kept me company deep into the night. They were mostly all asleep in their balls, save for Mimi and—my eyes flickered upward—Buddy, who was, as usual, a pool of water shoved in a nook of my ceiling.

There was nothing else from the others, but I'd been kicked from the group chat without warning as predicted earlier in the morning. I took the phone away from my ear and whistled to Jellicent until he slid into my sleeve and became slightly warm. The heat would help with the courage needed to get through this conversation, but it'd also be good to keep him hidden like a knife in the dark should someone try to kill me—

Oh.

Right, that was done and over with. People weren't after me anymore.

"There," she said.

Right. Messages from Melody. Blinking the tiredness from my eyes, I clicked on her name and saw three new pictures other than the one of me shambling through Veilstone with ripped tights. The first had been clearly taken in Canalave, and was one of Cecilia curled up in a ball as Slowking levitated her back to the Pokemon Center within a barrier. The second was on us talking on the bridge before leaving to fly on Princess slightly over an hour earlier. The third was a little tougher to tell. I squinted and zoomed in until I figured out it was a blurry picture of me on Princess in the sky.

"The third one is you flying away from Canalave," she pointedly explained. I waited to see if there would be any more coming, like me and Cecilia screaming at each other, or me breaking the law by taking off outside of a designated platform, but there was nothing else. "It's easy enough to piece together now. People are already speculating online that something broke the two of you up—I just never thought it would have been cheating!" she yelled. "What compelled you to do this?"

"I dunno. I shouldn't have, I know." My foot started to tap on the ground. This conversation never got easier no matter how many times I had it. Good. "Th—the relationship was just in a horrible place. It had been for a long time, but we were so private that none of you knew. And before you say I should have told you, Cecilia and I also... didn't really know."

"Look, I don't know Cecilia; I understand you two have been through a lot this year, but this... okay, it wouldn't be catastrophic if it came out, but it sure would be horrible. Another grievance the company would have with you to add to the pile."

A lump formed in my throat. "Am I gonna be demoted? Fired?" Maybe I hadn't paid enough. Maybe the world would keep coming to collect for what I'd done, equalizing the weight of my sins and paying it back in hurt.

My liaison sighed—I could almost picture her cradling her forehead at the coming headache. "Not yet, but you're toeing the line, Grace. I can't keep protecting you forever, you understand?" I nodded as if she could see me. In truth, I hadn't been what Poketch needed for a long while. "With Cynthia breathing down the board's neck, they understood not to rock the boat, but that protection is largely gone. That means you're going to be put to work."

"What does that mean in detail?" I asked.

"Since you came out of Coronet, you haven't been doing much of anything for the company," Melody said. "And I know that you were coping; you've been through a lot, but the board doesn't see you as a living, breathing person. They see you as a money printing machine who's run out of ink, and you don't keep a broken printer, Grace, especially not anywhere where everyone can see it. You replace it with a new one and either throw it out or put it in the attic, away from any eyes."

I chewed on the inside of my mouth and felt Jellicent wrap around my arm, telling me to keep my head on my shoulders. All wasn't lost; there remained an opportunity to hold onto my position. While I didn't really like Poketch as a company, at least I liked my co-workers. Even Aubri, to some extent! And I wanted my name to be sung far and wide to audiences that would remain unreachable without the company to push me to those heights, or at least right now.

And if—

If I lost Poketch, I would have nothing left. I needed structure in my life.

"Now, I don't want that to happen to you no matter what I might think—far from it." That surprised me. Genuinely, it took a moment for the statement to sink in, and I stopped myself from scoffing. I honestly thought she'd... yell at me for cheating? She didn't really care for any moral quandaries. "Not only do I genuinely like you even if you're tough to work with, whatever happens to you reflects on me and my position."

"So what are we going to do?" I asked, my voice small.

"Do you have a calendar?" When I answered yes, she continued. "You are going to work your ass off."

"Okay."

"Before saying okay, let me lay it all out for you so all of our cards are on the table. You're supposed to be one of the main faces of the company, but what have you done, really, to warrant that?" Besides Craig pushing me to the board... not much besides growing quickly as a trainer. "Exactly," she said, taking my silence as an answer. "You don't go out in public to meet fans, you don't battle in public, you don't do tournaments, you don't do interviews, you don't post on your socials beyond the bare minimum and your account reads like corporate spiel—" That was their fault! They were the ones who shackled me and controlled whatever I wanted to say! "—people know the idea of you and how you fight, but no one really knows you besides a few people inside the company. So tell me, why should we invest more in you when you're barely giving anything back, especially ahead of the Conference?" Melody paused for a second. "That's what the board is starting to think, at least."

"I get it," I acknowledged with a long exhale.

"We're going to thrust you into the public limelight in a way you haven't been... ever, really, even if we count that Veilstone interview with Mallory." There was a hint of displeasure at that name I shared with Melody. "To start with, your merch is officially releasing next week. June 13th. We're going to set you up at a public booth where you can meet your fans at one of the venues we own—they've been selling Craig merch like cookies there." Arceus, I did not need the remember that the business I worked with was exploiting their figurehead's death for profit. "You'll meet your fans, interact with them, take pictures, and probably sign a bunch of stuff. It would be nice if your Pokemon could as well."

The idea of so many eyes on me was uncomfortable, not because I was shy any longer—Poketch had been pretty good at beating that out of me—but because I hated the fact that they might be able to see the evil in me, and my interaction with that kid in Twinleaf didn't bode well with my public speaking capabilities should any unpredictable questions be asked. Part of me wanted to negotiate a better deal with Melody, but it was far too late for that. There were no more favors for me to trade in; this was where the rubber had to meet the road. Either I put up and showed I was worth something, or I'd be pushed out of the limelight.

"Uh. I don't have a signature." I grabbed one of my pens and twiddled with it. "Well, correction. I do," I'd signed a bunch of stuff from the few fans I'd actually interacted with, which had mostly been in Sunyshore when I'd been at my happiest. Helping Erin and her club... gosh, that had been fun, "it's just that it's not proper. Like—Craig's signature's really nice, smooth, and professional and stuff. I just write my name weird."

Her fingers snapped. "Perfect! That's something for you to work on—a nice-looking, recognizable signature is important marketing. Can you come to HQ today?"

"Yeah." I'd definitely need to sleep the rest of the day.

"Great."

"So... that's it, right?" I scribbled down June 13th on my calendar, making it in red with a bunch of horrible circles to remind myself of how it was going to be a shit day.

Melody snorted. "Are you kidding me? I said you'd be working your ass off; this is just the start!" She typed something on her keyboard and hummed. "You haven't given an interview since Veilstone—you're going to give a few more ahead of your eighth Gym Badge. Tell battling-focused channels how you're feeling on your rematch with Byron, et cetera, et cetera. They eat that stuff up; Craig used to give these all the time before he got all paranoid. Speaking of! You'll be challenging Byron at most a week after his Gym opens. That should be... from June 20th to 27th—"

"Wait, what?!"

"I told you, Grace. The Board's putting their foot down," she gently rebuked.

"But what if—what if I'm not ready?" I sputtered. "I've been working on this awesome move and we've been making slow progress, but—"

"It's a hard deadline. They actually wanted it to be the day of reopening because that sells better, but I gave you a week of breathing room. And when else were you going to do it, anyway? The Conference is on July 5th! You don't have time to be meandering; it'll be full throttle from here on out."

"I guess I'll try my best..."

"Use the opportunity to train in public and give out advice to those who need it, why don't you? Well, obviously keep whatever new stuff you have ready hidden." Most of that stuff was for killing things, Arceus damn it! Not that they couldn't be adapted for battle, but still. "We don't want Byron to get the jump on you. Ideally, the board wants this to be a dominant win. 4-6 is—"

"4-6?! Are they fucking insane?!" I screamed, making Mimi glare at me in annoyance on the windowsill. "That's just like... impossible!"

"I said ideally. It's not a hard line; a win is a win, but it would make them look at you far more favorably." A long, drawn-out groan escaped me no matter how much I'd wanted to keep it in. "Keep your chin up, Grace," Melody said. "We're kicking things into high gear, but you'll have to work just as hard in Unova to get our feet off the ground there. Can you swing by the Poketch Building at 12:30? We'll take a lunch there and talk about your worries before we work on your signature with the team. It'll be the same people that helped you prep for your interview—I know you prefer to work with familiar people."

I had known that eventually, I would have to get back into the swing of things, but this was more than I'd ever, ever done. And it was all at once! It was far too late in the year to have any build-up to it. I felt the confines of my bed calling me, but I shook my head and dug my nails into my palm. Maybe if I worked, then I'd forget to be depressed about losing all of my friends.

That was not... exactly a healthy state of mind.

But we all had to start somewhere.

"Now, this leads us to the final topic I wanted to approach today on the phone—we're going to need to send a team of lawyers to your friends to talk about signing an NDA—"

I balked, shooting up from my desk as adrenaline immediately diffused through my veins. "What?!"

"Grace, obviously we're not going to hope they don't say anything. Don't fret the details, the company will handle it. We can do monetary compensation to sweeten the deal, along with favors or vacations or whatever the hell they're gonna throw at 'em. I don't speak much legalese."

"Me—Mel, you can't!"

"What do you mean I can't? It's out of my hands; I literally have no power over this. And this is to protect you and your reputation. Someone who maims and battles like a brute? Very marketable. A cheater? People hate that because things stop being that cool thing you see on TV and things suddenly become real." I started packing my laptop into my backpack— "And before you think about confronting someone high up in the company, stop. It'll just make a scene." I froze.

Damn it, damn it, damn it! Not only would they hate me, but they might think I had something to do with this! I knew them well enough to know that none of them would sign that NDA, no matter how much money they threw at them. Hell, half of them were filthy rich already! I'd already hurt Cecilia enough; she didn't need to go through the pain of confronting that we were over by getting bullied by some legal team...

"Sorry, Grace. It's just the way things have to be."

"Melody, you doing this literally makes it more likely they leak everything!" I exclaimed, thinking of Chase. A bunch of men and women in suits pressuring him to do something he didn't want? He was going to blow up! "Let me—what if I speak to them, at least before they send the lawyers, so they don't get ambushed?"

"Hm, I might be able to sell that," she muttered under her breath. "Tell them about how abrasive Chase Karlson and Pauline King can be and how it'd be better to prime them for those negotiations... yeah, I'll see. By the time you get here, I should have an answer for you."

I released a tight breath. "Thank the Legendaries. Okay."

"You gotta move fast."

"I will!"

Contacting any of them directly was out of the question... though maybe Emilia or Louis were doable. Emilia especially knew a lot about law—she and Pauline had been the ones to coach me when that first company had tried to sponsor me by flashing big numbers in Eterna City. It'd be better and safer to go through Denzel first, given that I didn't want to step on any toes, but...

But the problem was that he hadn't actually messaged me yet.

Managing to keep my nerves calm throughout this morning was one thing, but if he dropped me too?

I—I wanted to call Maylene, I—

Another soothing sound from Buddy who slipped out of my sleeve. Our eyes met, mine meeting his red glow, and I bit my lip.

Not now. Not unless I was literally on the verge of lying on my bed and doing nothing all day.

He'd contact me eventually. For now, I needed to get ready to head out and start working.

—

Everything was so uncomfortable.

Skin that was hers and yet wasn't. Muscles she could move, but felt sluggish like they belonged to someone else. Eyes she could see through but were like looking through a screen. Cecilia had learned to cope with her new body after death, but the fact that her future would be one without Grace was difficult to reconcile, especially now that the rage from their confrontation had... not abated, but only been somewhat tempered. The ache for Grace was ever-present, a dull pulse beneath her thoughts she couldn't shake, a knot she couldn't untie. Yesterday, the anger had burned so fiercely she feared it might consume her entirely, but today, it simmered beneath the surface, waiting. It wasn't gone—it would never be gone—but it had quieted, leaving behind a sort of hollowness in her, however ironic that may be.

She still remained shallow, and without anger to fill that empty space, what was she?

Nothing yet.

Yet what could Cecilia do but put one foot in front of the other, pressing ahead until she learned to go from a waddle to a confident stride where she would never stumble? A fist clenched, just to snap herself out of her thoughts, and she opened the door in front of her.

A door closed behind her, both real and metaphorical; a dozen more had opened. She'd been freed, but freedom—true liberation—was so much more terrifying than she thought it'd be. She had believed herself free since she'd escaped from her father's physical clutches, but she had just moved on to a bigger cage.

Inside Cecilia's Center room were all of her friends.

Chase stewed in anger in his wheelchair, teeth clenched and hands wrapped tightly around the armrests. His knuckles were white, the tension in his body making the chair creak ever so slightly under the force of his grip.

Denzel looked... guilty, his eyes finding the floor to be the best of companions. His arms were crossed, and he was recoiled in on himself, shoulders pulled, as if the weight of his own consciousness had forced him to retreat inward. As soon as he noticed Cecilia, he shot her an apologetic look for reasons he had already told her. Denzel had known something fishy was going on, but hadn't said anything because of how happy Grace looked. It would have been enough to make Cecilia lash out had she not vented everything out the day before. Besides... it wasn't as if she hadn't wished for Grace to be content as well once everything had been said and done.

Louis was next to him, and they'd evidently been speaking in hushed tones before Cecilia had come back. Her old fiancé gave her a tight nod that was a little forced—he was uncomfortable with this entire situation. What Grace had done... it shattered the view he'd had of her. Odd and violent, yes, but he'd found her to be dependable, sweet, and someone who would never betray the people closest to her. Alas, even Grace had her limits to the pain she could take.

Pauline was uncharacteristically quiet and had been the entire day since Cecilia had broken the news. She'd expected the redhead to blow up much like Chase had. While she'd remained unquestionably angry, it was deep within her and masked by a thousand questions running through her mind at all times.

She'd considered inviting Mira in, but the girl was busy these days with her uncle and Lauren. She'd sent a few messages in support, but Cecilia was under no illusion that she wanted any involvement in this when she was on the path to a relatively fun and healthy life. Maeve had never been that close to Cecilia, and she wanted to amputate herself from the group anyway.

Emilia had come to hug her, something Cecilia eagerly returned. The embrace was warm, grounding in a way she hadn't realized she needed. She clung to Emilia a little tighter, as if trying to draw strength and warmth from the contact, her fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt.

"Cleared your head?" she asked.

"As best as I could," the reply smoothly came.

Her friends had let themselves into her room for some sort of emergency meeting on the topic of what to do about Grace, and things had gotten so heated that Cecilia had decided to leave for a walk. There had been many unsavory questions by her fellow trainers in and around the Pokemon Center, but a glare from her sent most who approached her the message, and they'd mostly left her alone after that.

Most of the shouting had been between Chase, Denzel, and Emilia. Chase had wanted the entire group to never speak to Grace ever again, like dropping her off the face of the earth, and considered any non-obligated contact to be a betrayal of some sort.

Emilia felt the emotional weight of Cecilia's anger and could somewhat relate even though she'd only been through a fraction of the pain. She'd said that she would support her no matter what and do whatever Cecilia needed of her to make the transition to her independent, single life as smooth as possible. Single. The mere thought of it felt odd, like Cecilia was missing half of herself, but Arceus knew she needed it.

Denzel wanted them to clear their heads and reevaluate things when the anger and shock subsided. He posited that they'd all been through too much to let this admittedly horrible event cut Grace off forever.

Cecilia thought it to be nonsense. She never wanted to see that girl ever again; it would be too painful, akin to running her heart through a meatgrinder just to make him feel better about the fact that their group wasn't as tight as it used to be when the world was ending. Denzel was many things, but he was no agent of great change. Cecilia was, however... not against them talking to her or remaining friends with her, even if the idea left a bad taste in her mouth.

Chase scratched the back of his head. "Sorry, Cece. I got a little heated, I—" he winced. "I didn't know it'd affect you like that. I forgot people don't just... get as angry as I do. I mean, she—she tried justifying that shit by using me." He lifted up his wrist and slapped it. Practice, Grace had called it. "Fuck her."

"You're fine—" she crushed the words worming their way out of her mouth. Voice your discontent; cease being subservient. "No, you aren't fine. I told you to stop focusing on throwing out insults and fighting with anyone who disagreed with you when the focus of this meeting was for us to communicate about what we were each going to do. The next time, please listen."

He sighed out a small "yeah," accompanied by a nod.

"Now that we've stopped fighting and that I thought about how to proceed for a while," Cecilia began, "I've decided to afford all of you the freedom of choice. I will be honest and say it would hurt me terribly to see you talk to Grace as if nothing had happened—as if she hadn't extinguished the embers that perhaps could have been reignited." Though that was a little unfair of her. If Grace had wanted to break up with her—fine. Cecilia just wished she'd waited. "But I won't force my feelings on any of you. You each have your own hearts, your own judgments to make."

Cecilia cast a heavy gaze across the room, waiting for each person to make their decision.

Chase was first. "I'm with ya all the way." He'd clearly wanted to say more but restrained himself for her. Good.

"I still have to think about it," Louis said. "I'll—I'll have to let you know when I come to a decision. I just can't fathom... Legendaries."

"She was hurting," Denzel tried. "Hurt people hurt more people." Chase just about piped up, but Denzel pressed, "you of all people should know that, Chase."

"Wouldn't hurt the person I care about the most. It'd be like me stabbing Ri in the back! The people I hurt were strangers I didn't give a fuck about because I was an asshole to everyone I met. And I still am an ass. Just be fuckin' honest, Denzel. The girl's your best friend, so you want to forgive her for fucking up. Whatever." Despite brushing it off, it was easy to tell that Chase clearly wasn't 'whatever' about this.

Cecilia glanced at Emi. "Like I said, I'll take it slow and try to hurt you as least as possible," she said, pushing a strand of her auburn hair away from her eyes. "Right now, that's staying in your corner—not that I'm eager to speak to Grace either. I just... you know, I also figured she had a thing with Maylene; I just never thought she'd go that far. This is also on me, not just Denzel." He gave her an appreciative nod. There was a short stretch of silence until she cleared her throat. "But if we're being honest, I'm of the opinion that this is a good thing in the long term. You two breaking up."

"Huh?" Chase sharply questioned.

"I think they both need to be single for a while—but if I'm only getting half of that, them not being together is going to help them." Emilia smiled at Cecilia. "It hurts right now, and it will for a long time, but you'll find your own path like I did, I promise you. Er, no offense meant, Pauline."

"None taken. We spoke about this," she said.

"Speaking of. What about you, Pauline?" Cecilia asked. "You've been quiet." Pauline had shrunk more and more the further Emilia had gotten into her point of view despite her words.

She let out a little groan as if she was a cornered animal waiting to be snatched. "I dunno. I mean I—I saw directly how fucked she was when you left, Cece. She couldn't even get out of bed. She was just decaying."

Cecilia felt a pang of guilt that grew and grew until she barely kept it at bay with deep breaths. That was part of why she'd left the door to Maylene open. Because she knew how Grace got when the world hurt her.

And Legendaries, she'd hurt her a whole lot.

"I can't feel myself to feel too resentful. And I really tried, y'know?" Pauline said. "I was angry when I learned the news, and I'm still angry, but every time, I picture her just... lethargic on her hotel bed, her room dark and damp. And I think—she needed someone there, and if that someone was Maylene, well, it fucking sucks for you, and it doesn't make your pain worth any less, but it's what she found to survive."

"Grace is like a lightning bolt," Emilia added with a nod. "She needs a conductor to connect with, something or someone to channel her energy, or she'll just fizzle out. None of us offered that because—"

Well.

None of them wanted to say it, but Grace was just... a lot of work—Cecilia was as well, she knew, but that wasn't the point—even if they all loved her deep down. Either they'd been too busy with their own lives or dealing with their own trauma, but none of them really had the time or the will to put facets of their lives on hold to keep her centered except for Maylene. Cecilia ignored the furious jealousy bubbling inches beneath her skin, ten times that of the worst she'd felt when she'd been friendly with the fighting type Gym Leader and seeing the two of them interact right beside her.

Cecilia would get over it eventually. She had to. The love she had for Grace was like a deep, unshakable root that had grown this past year. It was a love that had weathered storms, one she thought was unbreakable and would last forever. And yet, that same love was tangled up with a fierce enmity and disgust, a bitter sting that came from the betrayal of Grace's infidelity. She'd left the argument somewhat satisfied, if not hurt, but it felt like there was still so much left to be discussed. So much to yell at her about, and to be yelled at for.

Oh well. It was too late now.

That love had to disappear eventually, right? It was just too early.

Arceus... how could she feel both love and resentment? And the fact that she still loved, still wanted what was good for her. She hated that her heart refused to let go, that it clung to the idea of Grace despite the betrayal, despite the pain. And the more she realized how much she still cared, the angrier she became. It felt like a betrayal of herself, like she was weak for not being able to simply cut her out and move on. And Cecilia knew she just needed time to process everything, that she should allow herself to grieve and give herself time, but she was just—

So angry.

"We have our verdicts," Cecilia said before faking a smile. "Thank you all for coming here today; I'm glad to still have all of you in my life." That depressive, self-deprecating part of her had thought that maybe they would abandon her as well, but it was just foolish conjecture from her inner self who wanted to push her to always remain miserable. "Chase, shall we go train and prepare you for Byron—"

"Grace messaged me," Denzel interrupted. Cecilia had noticed him looking at his phone, but had made nothing of it until now. "She wants to meet me? Like, ASAP?" He gave Cecilia a look.

The Unovan shrugged, trying to act as if it didn't bother her. "Do as you will, Denzel."

"Can I come with?" Pauline asked.

He nodded. "If you're sure."

—

By His grace, stop fidgeting! You're making me nervous because I'm in your head all the time! Mesprit whined in my head. Ugh, your name shouldn't even be Grace. You humans should have stayed in your lane.

"If you're nervous, just cut that off," I grumbled. "It's not like you're the literal embodiment of emotion or anything."

Where's the fun in that? I want to feel everything at once at all times! You're just unbalancing things! they whined. Keep playing with the Ingot and entertain me until your fleshy friends get here.

"Haven't you been entertained enough in the last few weeks?" I quipped, feet tapping anxiously against the floor.

Oh, you've been a riot! Mesprit giggled. I hope you feel better soon, though!

I brought Mimi up to my eyes and squished them like dough, stretching and prodding until they let out a chime-like giggle. The meeting room I'd been directed to was sleek and impersonal, designed for business, not comfort. The long glass table at the center gleamed under the cold, bright lights, reflecting the chrome accents of the minimalist chairs arranged around it. The walls were lined with dark wood paneling, interrupted only by a large screen and a single abstract painting that I didn't really understand. Originally, I'd wanted to meet my friends in public or maybe in an available Center room, but Poketch had voiced their displeasure immediately and shoved me into one of their offices in Canalave instead.

Admittedly, it was safer this way. Away from the curious eyes and cameras of the public seeing us interacting now that the rumors about Cecilia and I breaking up were going wild online. It was even trending on Chatter, though thankfully nowhere near the number one position. The trainer community was swirling with endless speculation about how often Maylene had been seen in Jubilife and me in Veilstone as well, though that was a lot more hushed and kept to confined circles. I'd grown better at browsing Chatter since Maylene had shown me how on multiple occasions.

The things that specific subgroup was saying about me... well, it was mostly true, if not greatly exaggerated, but I didn't care. What a minority of them were saying about Cecilia or Maylene? Super fans of mine putting all the blame on them for my relationship collapsing—you know nothing about us or any of what we've been through! I wanted to yell, yet I couldn't. Because I was a public figure.

I really needed to make that alt, didn't I?

We should browse this website more often, Mesprit commented as I scrolled through my phone with Mimi on my head. I enjoy seeing what people have to say—oh, wait, scroll back up! Arceus, I could feel their excitement buzzing about my head. 'That Cecilia bitch didn't deserve our Grace anyway knife emoji, knife emoji, knife emoji—wow! The human mind is so interesting!

It didn't have any likes or any replies—again, these were just a few people my mind couldn't help but focus on. The username was Tyler Galloway with a bunch of numbers at the end. I put my phone on sleep mode before a mistake could be made.

Aw. I wish I had my own cellular device!

"I wish you wouldn't harass me about looking at the worst minds the internet has to offer." Sometimes, it was cute. Others, well... it was annoying, especially when I was still so emotionally raw from my breakup.

Hmph! I'm being nice because you're my friend!

There was a slight upward quirk in my lip. "I know; you can tell when you're going too far anyway. Honestly, talking to you is helping keep my mind off things—"

There were footsteps in the corridor behind the door, then voices growing closer and closer. My breath hitched in my throat as I scrambled to stand up and put my phone back in my pocket. Mimi followed suit, jumping in the opening for whatever reason when I'd told them they didn't need to hide anymore. It must have been a habit. I'd planned out what to say and how to say it, but plans I made tended to go off the rails quickly. Sometimes, that was welcome, like my talk with Maylene in the ceremony leading to us somehow getting together...

My train of thought stopped for a moment. It still made me feel guilty to be happy about it.

There was no time to dwell on those feelings. The door to the meeting room swung open, and two women in sharp suits ushered Denzel and Pauline inside. Their nervous energy mirrored my own—fidgeting hands, uneasy glances. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing us in. Suddenly, we were alone.

"Um," Denzel started as he grabbed a chair; he was nearly inaudible, "we should probably sit?" He was the first to do so, making so not to put himself against the backrest.

I plopped myself back down on mine, ignoring a giggle from Mesprit about how nervous I was when the stakes were so low. Maybe on the scale of what we'd faced before, they were, but to me, these friendships mattered. I'd tried to ignore the fact that they were collapsing just like I'd ignored the world ending that day with Cecilia at the lake, but now that they were right in front of me, it took everything I had not to prostrate myself at their feet and beg for forgiveness. There was a certain... space in between us. On the one hand, it was physical, with Denzel and Pauline sitting on one side of the table and me on the other; on the other hand, it was emotional. I'd hurt them so much that everything felt distant now, from the way they looked at me to how their eyes darted around the room. It was like they were looking at a stranger.

And that stranger was me.

"Ah—shit, no need to cry, I—" Pauline stammered. She circled the table and placed a hand on my shoulder while Denzel clenched his forehead.

"It's just so difficult..." I sobbed. "I'm sorry fo—for fucking up."

I cried for... probably a good five minutes. I was just tired, really. Part of me was happy that I was even surviving this day, but deep down I just didn't believe that was allowed under any other circumstances. When Denzel gathered his thoughts and joined in to hug me, I was well enough to speak again. I would have returned it had his back not been delicate; the progress he was making with walking again was astonishing, even if he was still slow.

"I know I have to right to ask, but how is she?" I made pleading eyes at my... I didn't know what they were, now.

"She's doing okay. Chase knows the most," Denzel said. "Obviously, she wants nothing to do with you anymore. At—at least for now," he added, slightly hopefully.

"I already know," I said. For now? That was enough to nearly make me laugh. He was as optimistic as always. "And the others?"

"Shellshocked?" Pauline guessed. "That's a good word for it. I mean, we never really thought you guys would... break up this way. We always thought you were the kind of couple who'd stay friends even if you separated—"

"Pauline," Denzel said through his teeth. "Not the best moment to say that stuff?"

She looked at him apologetically and raised her hands. "Ah. Sorry."

It was true. If I'd waited, if we'd split amicably, then this would have felt so much better.

Unfortunately, in life, there were no takebacks.

Not without Godly intervention, anyway, Mesprit so helpfully commented. It's out of my purview; don't get mad at me. Take it up with Celebi!

Cele-who? Blegh, whatever. Probably some other deity whose mere presence could kill me. I sniffled a few times and wiped my tears with my sleeve.

"So I would have explained more in my text, but they were adamant to keep it as ambiguous as possible," I hesitated before continuing, shooting them an anxious look.

Pauline nodded and crossed her arms as she walked back to her seat. "They had us sign some sworn-to-secrecy nonsense before going in here," the redhead spoke before sitting. "We did it because we trust you, even after everything."

"She still gave it an extensive look. We were down there for like an hour and a half. "Denzel patted me on the back and smiled. "And look, things are gonna be awkward—hell, they're awkward right now, right?"

I let out a sad laugh. "I feel like my flesh is trying to crawl out of my skin, like my body's rejecting itself. "

"That's a nice way to put it." He said, squeezing my shoulder. "But I still want to be your friend, Grace. And even after you leave, I want to keep in touch despite the fact that it's going to be weird for a while."

"The sun makes you feel like you can't win, but not because you accept defeat, but because you're simply overwhelmed by what you're looking at," I said, my mind drifting to Cynthia's Garchomp, the way her mere presence seemed to tilt the battle in her favor. "It's crushing, unstoppable—too far beyond anything we can grasp. The sun's so powerful that people around the world built religions around it and worshipped it like it was a God." I thought back to the story Cecilia had told me about that old Unovan myth of a Volcarona acting as a civilization's sun after a supervolcanic eruption had blanketed the world in ashes for years. "And maybe they were right."

I glanced at Sunshine, his shell shimmering faintly, absorbing the comparison. "When you face something like that, something so immense, it feels like it could crush you or burn you out without effort, and yet you can't help but look. To gaze into the only light in the abyss in a desperate need to understand." I paused, watching him. "That's what you can be. Not just fire or heat, but something that makes your opponents realize they never stood a chance—like looking at a Pokemon and knowing you're already beaten."

I'd gotten carried away there; one had to pace their expectations, but it was exciting, wasn't it? We'd been working on this since I'd stumbled upon Marley in this very spot, and it was finally coming together in a coherent idea. I had a lot of concepts for this technique—like how it actually got extremely cold in space when shielded from the sun's rays, and how different types of stars acted and appeared, but the first goal was to get our baseline in order.

"Now, concepts are well in good, but we actually have to make it work through technique. That means practicing with dragon TE in hopes that you can force Pokemon to step away from shelter and look at your grandeur, attracting them like moths swarming to a flame, all while refining the way you move fire and heat around. And light. It's already been a lot of work, but it'll be tougher from now on. It's way more technical than what you usually do, but are you up for it, big guy?"

I stared up at him, and he grinned, tail slapping excitedly against his shell. I patted him affectionately on the arm. We'd already trained a decent bit for this, but now that there was a clear path, I expected progress to speed up. Shell Smash, which he had finally learned, would be instrumental.

"One day, I'll be able to utter the words You Are A Star in battle, and not just you are a star." My throat felt a little hot at those words. "Speaking of concepts, I wanted to talk about stories next—"

Both Sweetie and Princess clamored, asking what would they be if I came up with a move like this for them.

My nails scratched the top of my head. "Well, let's see. It'd be, like, the essence of who you were. Sunshine basks in attention and adoration at his strength, and he wants to own an entire mountain. Plus, there's also his name. Befitting of a star, I'd say. Princess... maybe 'You Are A Knife'—no, that's too restrictive," I muttered, shaking my head. A knife was something specific, something limited. It was a tool meant for close, singular action—a precise strike in the dark, hidden until the moment it was used, meant to stab someone in the back when they least expect it. "A blade. A blade's broader, more dangerous in its ambiguity. It could be anything—a sword, a razor, a scythe. Even a needle."

I turned toward my favorite rock type, who made puppy eyes at me. "For you... well, a huntress, maybe? I'll give it some thought." She whined, and I comforted her by promising her good meat tonight for dinner. Raw and bloody, just like she liked. "Anyway, as I was saying, I want to use stories in battles."

Buddy's eyes dimmed; he told me that it would make me—

"Predictable after a while, yes, especially if I always pick the same type of story," I said. It was true, however, that this type of thinking would lead me to think in terms of threes, turning points and building every attack around crescendos, and saving the biggest moves like You Are A Star for those narrative pivots. All of that might become a detriment—but fuck it. "Worst-case scenario I'll have to remember to pull away from that thread if needed and to transition into normal battling. Hell, we could even use that to trick people. I just think that... y'know, it just makes the world so much brighter; it makes everything make so much sense." I looked up at the lazy clouds drifting across the sky, and my fingers dug into the grass. "Do you know what my favorite Gym Battle of the entire year was?"

They all answered Gardenia in unison. Even Cass, who was a newcomer.

I snorted, my head thrown back a little. "That would be my second favorite. No, the one where I had the most fun by far was my fight against Wake, because it was a story. I was the heel—the antagonist to Wake's Hero. And I won," I said with a hungry smile. "What I would give to recapture this... energy when battling," I mused, eyes distant. "It wasn't just about winning. It was the thrill, the narrative. Every move felt like part of a bigger story, like we were characters in something grander than just a fight. I miss that. The stakes, the tension, the way we felt like moving pieces of on a board."

I shot Sunshine another look.

"And guess what. You're going to be the protagonist of the next fight."

Passion wasn't reignited with a snap of a finger. It never was that simple.

But the last few weeks, I'd—

There were sparks.

—

"So you've never been at an arcade before? Never?"

Maylene made her 'are you stupid' eyes at me, and a short, flabbergasted breath left her throat. "Grace, you know my childhood. I literally had no time for any of this."

Ah. That was fair enough. "Sorry," I said. But it was a playful sorry, not a catastrophizing sorry, and she could tell the difference. "It should be easy enough to kick your ass, then."

The flame of competitiveness was lit in her gaze. "Hearing you whine about losing in an hour is going to be so sweet."

Maylene crouched next to the coin machine and inserted a few Pokedollar bills in it after flattening the paper. The arcade hummed with life, a blend of soft neon lights and the familiar chime of game machines. Rows of games flickered in every color, their screens drawing players into quick bursts of fun. The air smelled faintly of popcorn, and small groups huddled by the more popular games, tapping buttons and steering joysticks with quick fingers. There were even a few Pokemon here and there fooling around. Needless to say, Maylene's arrival here had sparked a lot of stares and people walking up to us, but it was actually less than I'd thought.

We still didn't have any labels, but I was close to taking that leap. Denzel and Pauline had managed to get everyone, except Chase, to sign an NDA, and surprisingly, there weren't many hard feelings. It was hard for things to get any more tense than they already were—though with some of them, the distance between us was just as difficult. Rich people like Emilia, Louis and Pauline dealt with these happenstances all the time, and the others, well—

It was like I was ever going to be friends with Chase or Cecilia again.

An uncomfortable shiver, followed by something crawling all over my skin. My fingers dug into the tough hem of my jeans as Maylene pulled a crap ton of tickets from the machine. I pulled on the remaining strands of warmth from the hug we'd shared when I'd come to her Gym, taking solace and refuge with how safe I'd felt with her arms around me.

By the time she turned back in my direction, I was almost back to normal, but her eyes flickered to my hand with a piercing gaze, noticing it just as it left the comforting pressure that always came with squeezing my clothes.

Maylene reached out, her hand hovering for a heartbeat before finally closing around mine. A gentle warmth traveled up my arm, and despite how public this was, I couldn't help but smile at her. The colorful lights danced across her features, softening them in the glow. She'd gone out on our date with a low key T-shirt and shorts, but if I squinted, sometimes I could see the outline of her stomach through the fabric, and it made the inside of my mouth dry.

Thanks to Poketch's correspondents, both Cecilia and I had announced that we'd broken up yesterday. While our posts hadn't gone as far as to refer it as 'amicable,' we'd both said our lives had been heading in different directions and that this was for the best. The truth of it was she just wanted to be done with me and to never think about me again, which meant revealing this would be better for her sooner rather than later. Either way, while Maylene and I being out together so fast might bring questions, Poketch had avoided the worst of the allegations and none of the cheating rumors had gone mainstream.

And I hadn't complained at all even if they were working me to the bone. It was narrow-minded, it was selfish, and maybe short-sighed, but I'd asked Melody about it and gotten a mild approval beforehand.

Once she made sure I was okay, Maylene asked, "what game first? Not that it matters, anyway."

"There's this fighting game I used to play with Emilia." I scanned the arcade with a quick look as she let go of my hand before it could breach the contract and become Unnecessary Contact. "But I don't want you to claim I'm cheating because I already knew the controls or whatever, so we should find something else for now."

"I would never say that." I shot her a look. "Okay, maybe I would say that."

I leaned against her for a second and laughed. "You would. Now let's go and look; we only have an hour. Arceus, I can't wait until the Conference."

"Excited to have me all to yourself?"

I ignored the warmth invading my face. "I wouldn't put it like that. But I am excited to spend a little more time with you and slowly ramp up as I get better—oh! Wait, this is PokeKart!" I made a mad dash toward the two gaming machines, which were surprisingly available. "My dad had one of the older ones on a console we used to own! How did I miss it the last time I was here?"

"Might be a new one," Maylene glanced at the side of the machine, turning slightly away, though I could tell seeing me excited was making her happy. She tapped the side of it with her knuckles, the back of her hand sliding against the colorful plastic design. "I've never heard of this before. Do you want to play? I wouldn't actually mind."

"You bet! Prepare to be dominated."

She inserted the tickets into the machines, and a colorful splash art of a bunch of different baby Pokemon appeared on the screen, accompanied by an announcer who was way too loud and way too into this. We quickly selected the two player mode, and I tried to guess which character Maylene would go for. Riolu would be too obvious—

"I wish I knew what character was the best," she complained.

"Maylene, I've never met someone as tryhard as you. You've never played the game; just go for whatever Pokemon you like. Even I don't know."

Her picking of Magby was accompanied by a smug hum on my part, exactly as I'd predicted. The fire type had been stylized to look focused, and had fire that flew out of their mouth and ears whenever they got hit by an item. Since she hadn't picked Riolu, I selected Cleffa instead of Togepi, and the race began in earnest once we selected Jubilife City as the map.

Maylene was doing a lot better than expected—it would have been cute to have her complain about what button did what, but she was in the middle of the pack, so to speak, for the entire race until the end. I snagged second place due to getting hit by an NPC's Thundershock on the final lap.

"Let's play another?" Maylene immediately said.

"I don't know... what if I wanted to play another game—"

She begged at me with her usual eyes, soft and tender; they reminded me of how she'd been when I'd kissed her for the first time, and my body tensed. There was no way I could say no to that.

So we played again. And again. And again, until I realized that Maylene was learning a lot faster than I thought she would. It got to the point that I had to lean in and fake that I'd kiss her to get my fifth win, but that kicked her competitiveness into high gear, and she zoomed past me the next race, making sure to wait at the finish line and hit me with a few Embers before she reversed and ended the race.

She pumped a fist and celebrated. "Hell yes! I fucking dusted you! You suck!"

I could have told her that she'd only won once out of six times, but...

I liked seeing her boast. The silence couldn't last for long, or she'd realize what was happening and she'd get all shy on me. "I mean, I won more games in total. That favor's still going to be mine; one little win doesn't matter."

Maylene looked down at her phone. "We probably have time for a few quick games to give me a chance to equalize things. I'll go to the bathroom first." She looked at me with expectant eyes.

"Let me come with," I said. Not like I wasn't going to anyway.

The bathroom was small but clean, with tiled walls reflecting the soft hum of overhead lights. A faint scent of artificial sweetener hung in the air, and the sinks gleamed, polished and spotless. The floor, a pale gray, was slightly damp from earlier visitors and a little dirty in the corners. It was quiet, save for the soft echo of footsteps against the tiles and one occupant reapplying her makeup in front of the mirror.

"I'll wait for you out here." I noticed that Maylene was acting somewhat strange; she stuck next to me instead of actually going to the bathroom. I'd just been about to ask her what was wrong when the other lady left the room—

She pulled me into the nearest stall, and our lips met in a brief, clumsy kiss. My eyes fluttered shut as I sank into her, but she quickly pulled away, a sly smirk playing on her lips.

"That's one," she said, her voice teasing, with eyes gleaming with triumph. "For how you baited me during that game. I would have won if... uh..."

Focus. Focus. I couldn't just pounce on her, not when we were taking things slow. She was so focused on the rules that she'd even made sure not to go above the Appropriate Kissing Time. Her faux-confidence had been replaced by a mildly threatened look.

"This stall is kind of small, isn't it?" Maylene said with a nervous laugh. "I—I don't actually need to go, I just wanted to surprise you. Uh, let's get out of here."

"Let's," I agreed. Before I take the other two that are owed right now.

Maylene could learn fast, but I still ended besting her in the amount of games I won, meaning that I'd gained a singular favor from her. It was while we were walking back to her Gym—we'd forgone Teleporting when possible just to spend more time together—that I brought up the topic I'd been dreading.

"So, uh, about our deal. Let me cook for you?" I'd wanted to do so for so long, but with her strict diet, it was difficult to find an opening. "You owe me. I'll make sure it's something you like to eat."

Maylene wanted to fight me on it, but it had almost been involuntary. Like a reflex she'd been trained to do and say instead of a genuine reaction. "Sure."

"You don't sound that enthused."

"I guess I'm just not used to it?" she said with a hand scratching the back of her neck. "I'm happy you asked; I know you've wanted to do it for a long time. And, uh, I'm ready. Probably."

"Cool! What's your favorite food?"

"I guess I'd have to say... tofu stir-fry with quinoa and steamed veggies—uh, with ginger soy sauce."

Okay, that was literally unlike anything I'd made before, but I was determined to make it work.

"The next time we meet, I'm making it for you," I declared as I linked my arm in hers.

It wouldn't be for long, but we were allowed to enjoy the contact, at the very least.

"What about yours?"

I blinked up at her. "Hm? Fries from Arlyle's—"

"I'm making you eat the tofu with me."

—

How did one meet new people?

No, seriously. How?

Was it as simple as going outside and accosting whatever stranger caught your eye? If that were the case, Cecilia would have a lot of difficulties making this a reality. Oh, people didn't flee her. Most weren't even scared of her. The issue was that she unsettled. Talking to her, looking into her eyes and scarred face, combined with how she towered over most like a silent vigil, nearly always put people on the back foot. She made them uncomfortable, and any conversation she tried to strike would be smothered before it could even get off the ground. The consequences for her death were not nearly confined to the people she cared about, but to strangers as well. Emilia had helpfully offered to come with her so she didn't have to jump into the deep end of the pool so quickly, and Cecilia had agreed, but only should she fail horribly today.

This could have been solved if she'd been personable. If her voice had been soft and high, if she'd been able to dazzle people with a smile and keep them wrapped around her finger with words that she would have been able to spin for hours. Unfortunately, that wasn't her. She was threatening; her motions were awkward and forced, like a puppet; she loomed over strangers like she was about to snatch their soul and take it to the Dusk herself.

That was only the first step. The main problem was—

She stared blankly at a slightly trembling, dark-haired girl and a chubby Bidoof cradled in her arms. Perhaps it was brown hair.

—she did not have much to talk about to people she barely knew, and so, she had no social acumen.

"Woah! You look weird!"

Cecilia had stopped by a public food court in the middle of one of Canalave's many plazas to recuperate and rethink her strategy. What she hadn't expected was for this girl to indiscriminately approach and holler at her.

"Can I take a pic? You're Cecilia Obel, right? People are always talking about you online because of how striking you look," the girl continued, squeezing her Bidoof. Was that anxiety? Cecilia stopped herself from grinning with teeth and leaning forward to scare her further. These ghostly instincts would be the death of her. "I—I mean, only if you're cool with it." The teenager took a step back. "Uh, I'm—sorry?"

Oh.

Cecilia had not spoken in quite a while; she had forgotten.

"Feel free to take one," she commented like a passing gust of wind. She stayed quiet—

Wait.

Was this not a prime opportunity to gather knowledge in socializing with strangers? Why stay quiet, when this person could be the start of an upswing? It wasn't just enough to plan, research, and have pages upon pages of notes on her laptop. She was tired of floundering here like a Magikarp on dry land. Cecilia needed to get better at speaking to people if she wanted to be a politician.

"Let's start over." Cecilia gave the girl the best smile she could, but not too wide. She'd come to find that she wasn't great at those when they were forced. "What's your name?"

She relaxed a little, and her Bidoof heaved in her arms, glad it could finally take a full breath. "Rose," she said. "Um, sorry for calling you weird. I guess my brain forgot you weren't just a girl on TV or on a screen."

"What a nice name. Very fitting." She'd always liked shorter and simpler names, even if she did not have one. "You're forgiven, Rose," Cecilia said.

The girl blinked a few times before snapping out of her stupor, and placed her Bidoof on the ground. She asked for a selfie, but her arm was too short, so Cecilia snatched her phone from her hand and took it in her stead, squeezing the girl against her. It felt odd to have... well, was she a fan? Maybe Rose thought of her as a cryptid of some sort. A creature she could look at behind iron bars and point at for her amusement. It was up to Cecilia to prove that this was not all she was.

"T—thanks," Rose stammered. "I guess I'll go, sorry for bothering you—"

"I have a few questions, if you have time?" the Unovan said, finding the will to actually sound like more than a woman resigned to her fate. Rose looked up at her, finding it difficult to stay focused on her eyes. More fear, then. "What do they say about me? Online?" Cecilia had never been one to ego search like Denzel did every week or so. Sure, she didn't really care—not for what the people of Sinnoh said about her, anyway—but it was practice for conversing.

"Oh. I mean, they're saying a lot; it'd take like an hour to get through all of it."

"We are in a food court, Rose," she noted. "Have you eaten lunch?"

"N—no?" Even the girl's Bidoof stomped a foot on the ground, its fur bristling.

"I know this is forward since we don't know one another, but why don't we go out and eat something?" Cecilia stopped her head from tilting too much; her hair brushed across her cheeks. "Then you can tell me all about it. If you're free, of course."

Rose looked at her, mildly star-struck and blushing until Bidoof headbutted her in the ankle. Why was she reacting this way? "I—I—are you asking me out?" She was besides herself, eyes darting, face flush, skin moistening with a slight amount of sweat.

Cecilia's face fell. What a bother.

She sighed, limbs going limp at her side. "Never mind. Have a nice day."

One quick turn by pushing her heel off the ground and Cecilia was gone. It took another thirty minutes for her to actually start meeting people, this time trainers who knew she was friends with Denzel. Cecilia knew they were probably using her to try to meet their favorite content creator, but a start was a start, and seeing as they were experienced trainers, her scars and affliction did not scare them as much, even if she remained unsettling. Nevertheless, Cecilia couldn't help but think back to Rose as she leaned against a restaurant table. A thought slithered its way past her skull and into her mind, insidious and just so lethal.

Maybe if she'd been fair-haired, she could have imagined her to be blonde.

—

She couldn't spend all day sharpening her dull social skills on the whetstone of unfamiliar faces, no matter how tempting it was. There was an important online meeting looming in just ten minutes, and she needed to prepare. Now back in her Pokémon Center room, she sat at a desk that had shrunk over the past year, or rather, one that she had outgrown. Slowking hummed softly beside her, a steady presence amidst the creeping anxiety she refused to acknowledge.

"Would you stop that?" she asked, a little brusque.

Oh. My bad. He placed his hands behind his back. Still nervous, then?

Grace would have been able to tell immediately, but Grace wasn't here anymore. Cecilia's teeth clenched. How dare she take up this much space in her mind after what she'd done to her? She slammed her laptop screen down with a frustrated grunt and began pacing about the room—a quest in futility to attempt to forget.

No. It wasn't Grace's fault, it was hers. In the words of Emilia, she'd been far too attached, and it would take a long time to get her ex-girlfriend to only take a reasonable of space in her train of thought.

If you want to take your mind off things, we can talk about that new battling style you were cooking up, the psychic slid in. He moved out of the way when she continued pacing. Cecilia? My Lady?

The Unovan stopped by the window and blinked, looking at the streetlights of Canalave starting to turn on as the evening crept in and the sun began to set. "I'm sorry." Her hands pressed down on her face, going from her forehead, down to her nose and mouth. "You're right. Let's keep brainstorming this."

She sat back at her desk, opening a slew of other tabs with her old Gym Battles to look at. Since she had little time, they all played in fast-forward. "Boring, boring, boring, boring, boring, boring, okay—" it took until her seventh and eighth Gym Badge that she finally found something worth looking at. When she'd started weaving together strategies of her own instead of relying on overwhelming strength—that type of thinking had caused her first loss against Wake. "These are interesting," she pondered, tapping a finger against her desk.

Against Byron, she'd used Zolst and Slowking to create a circular ravine filled with water from which the psychic could wreak havoc behind his multiple layers of barriers. Against Wake, she'd carefully calculated her and his switches, Disabling the veritable storm the water type master had summoned with Slowking and cutting off the rain like she'd turned off a tap. Through this, she'd managed to evaporate his makeshift sea with Talonflame and had scraped together a win.

"Interesting," she repeated. "But are they me?"

Isn't the point of this that you can be whoever you want to be because you're starting from a metaphorical zero? Slowking questioned, a pondering hand prodding at his colorful ruff. If you want it to be you...

"No, no, it needs to click." Cecilia didn't want to just limp along into something that would ultimately not work for her, especially when she wanted to put up a decent showing at the Conference. Focusing on battling away from Grace would surely clear her head. "Come to think of it... what about plays?"

Plays?

"Plays," she repeated. "Like dividing battles into acts." There was a subtle squeeze in her chest. "Broadly speaking, it would mean that each stage of the fight would be a different setting, a performance to entertain. But also something with flair, like how Fantina fights when she has fun. I'll have to watch her high level fights."

Sure... that plays, I think, Slowking muttered within her mind.

Cecilia squinted at him and smirked. "Five out of ten." Maybe she needed to add dad jokes into her Raison d'Être diary, where she kept track of the new things she liked and disliked.

I'll take it. I need to get back into the swing of things, or my Chilly Reception won't be as good.

"Think about it; picture it. Lehmhart has music, and I'm pretty sure we can figure out a way to make it stick when he's gone. Like you and your barriers. Talonflame can help with lighting if needed—" was she going too far with this? Was it even viable? Cecilia let out a little laugh; she sure as hell wanted to try, failure be damned. Her worries about performing well had now fallen off the wayside, leaving only a desire to rediscover herself. "I want to tell something through the fight. A statement of some sort, something that reflects me so I can build myself up into something more. With each fight, I'd grow. Stitch myself back together until I become a full person, and then more than that."

She wanted to be larger than life. She wanted all the air to be sucked out of a room when she walked into it as Cynthia could do, and not just because of how she looked and she unsettled others, but because she wielded soft power. Because she was an accomplished politician. Because people had heard of her feats. Because she swam against the current and shaped the world instead of getting swept by it. Because she mattered.

Arceus, you're quite excited about this, aren't you? Slowking noticed. Oh well. I'm not sure if we can make it work, but we can try. What would you be in this? The main character?

Cecilia snorted and said, "oh, darling." She leaned back into her chair, slightly short of breath. "I'd be the Narrator."

The two of them kept workshopping this idea until the clock struck 6:55 pm—nearly 9 am in Unovan Time, and tabbed back into her online meeting program. Professor Juniper had sent her a link via email to join in to 'break the ice' ahead of her arrival in Unova so they'd be able to get along. There wouldn't be many, but it would help her make a decent first impression.

Hopefully.

There were three names when Cecilia joined in. Professor Juniper was already here, of course, with her signature bright smile and upbeat energy. Her light brown hair—Cecilia remembered from the pictures she had seen before dying—was swept up into a voluminous style, almost like a wave frozen mid-motion. She wore bold earrings that contrasted against her pale skin and a loose lab coat over her casual wear. Cecilia knew she had a reputation for being somewhat of a relaxed professor.

Though relaxed did not mean this job would be easy. She was estranged from the wider community, but she was still among the best in the country.

Cecilia had only heard of the two other names, but she was seeing them now for the first time. First was Cheren Harmont. His dark hair, neatly styled and slicked back except for a small, rebellious tuft at the top, framed a face marked by sharp glasses and a keen, focused expression that morphed into a befuddled look when he noticed Cecilia. Second was Bianca Barnett, whose short light hair peeked out from under a beret-like hat. She'd evidently been smiling until Cecilia had joined the meet, after which her bright eyes widened, and she promptly yelled out a rodent-like squeak and nearly fell off her chair.

"Ah, Cecilia! You made it!" Juniper cheered, clasping her hands together. "And ten to five minutes in advance, unlike a certain someone," the professor's expression hardened.

Cheren cleared his throat. "Hilbert stayed up late yesterday because of some wild Pokemon drama—"

"Oh, by His Truth, please tell me he isn't making them participate in tournaments again; the lab's reputation will take a hit if he gets arrested by the Rangers for creating a commotion ag—you know what, we're getting distracted. Cheren, Bianca, this is Cecilia. Your fourth and final colleague of the year."

"Um. It's nice to meet you." Legendaries that had come out stiff. "The Professor's told me a lot about you."

Cheren raised an eyebrow. "Professor?"

The older woman let out a nervous laugh. "Just a little here and there, Cheren, no need to get your knickers in a twist."

"Are you sure that this is a good thing to say in front of your probable new employee, Professor Juniper?"

"My God, you're such a spoilsport." Her eyes glanced to the side. "What about you, Bianca? You've been quiet."

"It's true. Usually, you'd be talking her ear off and asking about how life is in Sinnoh," Cheren noted with a bit of a smirk. "I'm surprised you even made it, considering your awful sense of time."

"I—I'm just surprised, that's all. I didn't expect her to... Legendaries, I'm sorry. I've never seen something like that! Is that okay to say?"

Cecilia nodded. "I am aware of how I look. I don't mind; treat me as you would just another person."

"I can't believe I'm talking to Mark Obel's sister..." Cheren muttered with a glimmer in his eyes, and Cecilia winced. "It's so difficult to get information on your Sinnohan battles; I'm looking forward to seeing how strong you are when you get here! I've never spoken to anyone with eight badges before. It's not like they have any reason to stop in Nuvema, much less pay attention to me until I prove myself powerful enough."

There was a bit of an awkward silence—the last thing Cecilia wanted was to be compared to her brother.

Juniper clapped her hands. "Anyway! These two—or three, I suppose, are getting their starter Pokemon in a few days! They'll get the rest of summer to bond so they hit the ground running when the Circuit begins. Any advice you'd like to give them?"

Cheren looked at her eagerly like this was the only thing he'd ever wanted, eyes clearly expecting the best advice he'd ever gotten, while Bianca awkwardly shifted in her chair. That was such a broad question with a million answers. Grace would be so much better at this than she was—

"I actually passed my Trainer Certification exam with a 97." Cheren preened like an Unfeazant. "I would have aced it had grammatical mistakes not docked off points."

Cecilia hid her surprise well, but couldn't help but be impressed. Even her brother had only gotten a 92 after years of readying himself for the exam with the best tutors Unova had to offer. Results above 90 were exceedingly rare and were considered excellent. Acing it was basically out of the question.

"I barely passed..." Bianca muttered before perking up. That must have meant a 50 or right above that. "What about you, Cecilia—uh, Ms. Obel? Did you have to take Certification Exams in Sinnoh?"

"No," Cecilia simply said. "They don't have any of those. And please," she lamented, "just Cecilia is fine." She was glad she wouldn't have to go through that hassle even when she came back. There were shortcuts in place for proven trainers like she was.

Both soon-to-be trainers looked at her with abject horror. "So you can just—go out and be a trainer? They let anyone do that?" Cheren asked. The distress in his tone was palpable. "What if there's something you don't know about?" Cheren questioned, leaning forward in his chair. "Aren't some Sinnohan routes dangerous?"

"Oh, there are mandatory lessons for you to take in school," she explained, remembering what Grace had told her. "If you still lack knowledge, you can look it up or ask a fellow trainer for advice," Cecilia said. "Or you screw up, and the Rangers yell at you. Or you or your Pokemon get critically injured. Or you die. They take a bit of a trial-by-fire approach, though it's nowhere as bad as Indigo..."

There was another stretch of awkward silence—Cheren even laughed until he realized she hadn't been joking. Luckily, the third and final participant's arrival saved her from would-be disaster.

The boy's bed hair was one of the most horrifying ones Cecilia had ever seen; there were wild tufts of dark hair all over the place without any direction, and his webcam had the worst quality of the four, making him jitter with lag and blurry.

"Sorry, I'm late! You guys wouldn't believe the way my tournament ended last night—a little Patrat won against a Herdier—the reigning Champion of the last six tournies! She was so scrappy! She got a bunch of Orans as her prize, and I soaked up a bunch of experience just watching them fight. Plus, everyone had so much fun. I couldn't play trainer this time, or it would have been unfair." It was only then that Cecilia realized he'd organized a tournament for wild Pokemon to participate in for a prize. "Maybe I'll ask her next time—"

"Maybe you should introduce yourself?" Juniper suggested.

Something about his eyes made her frown; even through her screen and his pixelated video feed, they burned bright.

It was the flame of ambition.

"Oh, right. The name's Hilbert," he said in between a wide, long yawn. Another grunt from the Professor made him add, "uh, Hilbert Cassidy."

There was still drool on his chin.