Pokémon Broken Things

[Persephone]

Ground 9.3: Beneath the Armor
Lyra

September 8, 2020

There’s a weight pressing into your stomach when you wake. Too small to be any of your pokémon. Could be Madeline. She usually stays on Cuicatl’s side of the tent, though.

You reach out a hand to feel it. Hard. Square.

Great.

This again.

You open your eyes and glare at the morning sun. It’s too early for this.

You look at the journal perched on your chest. Pick it up and skim through. Looks right. All the correct ciphers. You remember writing the recent entries. Nothing amiss.

You open up the tent’s rain fly and rummage around in the waterproof compartment of your backpack.

Cuicatl grumbles her way awake at the noise and you don’t feel guilty. Her pokémon caused this. She can deal with it.

Sure enough, there’s an identical copy of your notebook in its correct place. You idly wonder what the difference will be this time as you pull it inside and open it up.

The handwriting is different. The text appears to be the same between both. Naturally, they could both be forgeries with the content altered and the handwriting serving as a distraction. It’s not like you can consult a backup at the moment.

Even if you could, that would be even easier for a metagross to tamper with.

You idly write a sentence from your early Galarian lessons about a clever fox and a lazy dog. It’s closest to the handwriting in the journal you found inside the tent. The two journals are good mirrors of each other. Minor water damage on the same sections. The writing gets messier and neater in the same entries.

The different styles aren’t necessarily better or worse than each other. The one from the tent has lighter strokes and a bit more fluidity. The backpack journal’s is blockier and a little more legible. You snap both shut and set them down.

“I’m going out to yell at your metagross,” you tell Cuicatl.

“Wha she do?”

“Left another journal.”

“What the fuck is her problem,” she grumbles, Unovan accent coming in.

Danielle stumbles outside a minute or so after you. The metagross is nowhere to be seen.

“Leo, where’s Noci?”

The golisopod clicks something out with his mandibles. It’s still fascinating to you that Cuicatl can get something intelligible out of that, even with her reduced abilities.

“Off flying,” Danielle says drily. “How convenient.”

You aren’t necessarily upset Danielle is fronting now. She’s probably more emotionally invested than Cuicatl is. The problem is that the metagross doesn’t respect either of you. The only person she even pretends to answer to is Cuicatl.

She wouldn’t wait fifteen minutes to return if Cuicatl had been the one demanding it.

When she does land her movements are smooth and unhurried. Cuepiltia flutters off from her back and lands on Danielle’s shoulder.

He screeches loudly enough it hurts a few feet away.

“Everything’s fine at camp, kid,” Danielle says. It’s gentler than you would be right now. “Can we work on a quieter way to ask later today?”

That earns a softer squeak before the bird flies down to the ground. The metagross pauses a few inches off the surface and a few feet in front of you.

Danielle reads her the riot act. The steel-type doesn’t even blink one of her eye screens in response. Those stay locked onto you as she repeatedly denies everything.

At first, it’s just one-word denials. “Lies.” “Slander.” “Delusions.” Then she starts denying that she’s ever heard of journals, heard of books, even heard of you, before seamlessly switching to asserting that she knows you well enough to know you faked it for attention, if there really are multiple journals at all.

You wonder if this is about winding Danielle up as much as it is about making you feel deeply uncomfortable.

Her left screen winks.

Fine. You’ll handle this yourself.

“What’s the point?” you ask. “It’s a lot less impactful the second time. Almost feels stale.”

[Would it be more interesting if there were content changes? I would never wish to bore you.]

“Don’t bother.” She already has changed the content before. She just knows what you did and didn’t tell Cuicatl the last time and wants to either punish your ‘mistake’ or force you to reveal it.

The door to Kekoa’s tent unzips and he steps out.

“Noci being an ass again?”

[I am neither an equine nor a buttocks. Please expand your vocabulary if you wish to be taken seriously.]

Danielle slouches a little. Finally.

“You mess with her mind?” Cuicatl asks.

[Negation.]

“Ever messed with her mind?”

[Negation.]

“Then why are you doing this?”

[Amusement.]

“I told you to stop last time.”

[Negation. Danielle Lee gave that order. Danielle Lee does not possess administrative privileges.]

“Stop with the journals. Stop upsetting Lyra. Don’t touch her mind. Or Kekoa’s. Or mine or your teammates’ without my permission.”

You feel a detached mental poke on the edge of your awareness. “She’s touching me.” You do your best not to whine like a primary schooler. It doesn’t quite work.

[Surface level communication was established.]

Cuicatl glares at her pokémon. Her glares have gotten better since she got Danielle’s memories of how to do it. The metagross at least moves her eye screens towards her trainer.

“Communication only. Nothing deeper.”

[Orders received. Requesting leave to perform additional aerial reconnaissance.]

“Go.”

She rockets off.

Cuicatl presses one hand to her forehead and wraps the other arm around herself. “I’m sorry she did that.”

You know she is. You also know there’s not much she can or will do to protect you. There isn’t a good way to discipline the thing and everyone knows it. Orders can be “misinterpreted,” “accidentally deleted,” or just ignored. Noci doesn’t need to eat so she can’t be punished or rewarded that way. Even if you could kill her or drive her away, you’d be left exposed to the American military or whatever mercenaries Gracidea hire to avenge their CEO and his wife. The metagross solves slightly more problems than she causes and it is absolutely infuriating.

Of course, you could just leave. It might be what the metagross wants. Your parents have even offered. Just…

“It’s fine,” you tell Cuicatl, even though it isn’t. She knows and doesn’t need more reasons to beat herself up. “I will let you know if it happens again.”

“You’re…” she trails off, unsure how to finish it. “Taking this better than last time?”

“Yes.”

You inhale, hold, and release. No, you’re not happy. There’s something deep inside you that wants to bolt to the hills. Another part that wants to vomit. You indulged them both last time and it accomplished nothing. You knew this could happen again. Know she can make changes without giving you a clue about it. Had time to make your peace with living in your worst nightmare.

At least you deserve it.

“I’ll be fine. Loses its impact the second time around.”

*​

There’s a very large mudsdale resting in the manor’s stables.

You’ve already reintroduced yourself to the lady of the house and put your bag in the guest room you will be staying in. It’s nice to have one last brush with civilization before delving into whatever the new Poni Island has to offer.

They really just left the place to the pokémon. You can’t even imagine what that would look like.

Jishin, your mudsdale, is doing the dance of head movements, sniffs, and grunts he does with every other mudsdale he meets. There’s no recognition or excitement in his movements. If anything, he seems a bit nervous. The mudsdale here isn’t his mother, then. You’ve been trying to track down every mudsdale around the places you travel. He still hasn’t found where his mother ended up after some trainer captured her. You’re starting to doubt you ever will. It’s not like you’ve been trying to fail your end of the bargain – maybe it was impossible all along – but it feels bad that there’s one, concrete thing you could do for someone who trusts you and you can’t pull it off.

The home’s door opens and someone steps out. Not from your group. You were talking with Cuicatl one night about footsteps and you’ve been trying to pick up on the differences. Cuicatl’s easy with her cane and the usual presence of at least one pokémon. Kekoa almost always stomps around. Genesis was a bit harder. She takes very measured steps. Easy to pick out when it was just you and Cuicatl. Harder in public.

New person has steadier steps. Sounds like heavier boots. Ah, well. You don’t have to rely on this trick to tell who you’re dealing with.

You turn around and the kahuna looks back at you. Huh. First time properly meeting her. She was out the last time you stayed here. Only traded a sentence or two with her at the Battle Tree. You had other things to worry more than scheduling your grand trial.

Truth be told, you figured she’d be way too busy putting out fires to be at home while you were here.

Hapu’s just a hair taller than Cuicatl. A little younger than you, but not by much. Guess she’s doomed to be naturally short as well. Her skin is dark and far too rough and weathered for her age. Her overalls have faded mud and grass stains all along them. Most of her hair is forced back into a messy ponytail. The rest hangs out to the side in a way that’s probably more accidental than intentional.

It's very practical. Tells you that she’s used to living too far away from people to care what they think.

“Well, hello. I thought you might be away,” you greet her.

She nods in response before walking over to the larger mudsdale. Must be her own. “I’m just in for a little rest. I’ll be off to Melemele tomorrow.”

Not particularly polite, either. She doesn’t even pretend to pay attention to you as she pulls out a brush for her massive horse.

“Ah. We stayed there for a little while at the start of this mess. It doesn’t sound like it’s gotten better.”

“No,” she says. “The island’s dying. We just have to save who we can.”

That’s a very pessimistic view for someone so her age. Is she really going to be responsible for that… situation? It’s not even her own island. It’s not her fault. What would she even know about famine relief and calming people who have been told they’re about to be wiped off the face of the earth for someone else’s actions? Why is fixing this her responsibility?

She’s too young.

“I know your friend wants to battle me,” Hapu says. “That… fellow from VStar, too.”

“I understand. Have you scheduled the battle?”

“No. She must go the grand trial site first.”

You had hoped she would drop that formality under the circumstances. “Might be a little difficult getting a ref and medic out to Exeggutor Island.”

She grimaces. “No. I am accepting her challenge at the end of Poni Gauntlet.”

What? She’s making you go all the way out to the end of Poni? And it sounds like she wants you to go through the park, too, rather than flying through it or scaling the canyon walls by the trial site. That would be dangerous and unnecessary in the best of circumstances. The only reason to do it would be to actively fuck someone over.

“May I ask why you’re mad at Cuicatl?”

“I’m not.” Her lip twitches. “I’m mad at Acerola. The Navy brat. Everyone playing politics while people starve. Dragging me into their games.” She pulls the brush away from her mudsdale and steps back. “You beat the dragon and fairy trials. You have the right to challenge me.”

You wanted to, before all this. It’s hard to justify with everything going on. Hapu stares at you while you think before getting bored and barreling on.

“Do you want to?”

“I do, just—”

“Why did you want to?”

That gives you pause. Why would she care? Is she really trying to persuade you to do this now? “Well, first, I wanted to test my own strength. That’s the point of the challenge, isn’t it?”

“Sure. Will I be fighting you at the Battle Tree, then? Better time than ever to test your strength”

“I’m not sure it would be worth your time given the circumstances.”

She rolls her eyes and starts to walk away. “I’m a Kahuna. I take challenges. It’s my job.” Hapu turns around just before the door. “We told the people to get off of Poni. It’s not safe. I’ve seen it. If you’re not still on your own journey, why did you come all the way out here?”

She shuts the door on you before you can even begin to answer.

What a peculiar girl.

*​

Mirai has calmed down enough that your evening walks can be relaxing for her again. The poor absol was panicking for weeks on end as disasters struck around you. Poni must feel safer. She’s back to sniffing at every new plant she finds and experimentally grazing the ones she thinks are safe.

There’s a theory that absol evolved their danger sense to avoid being poisoned by plants. You think the idea has some merit; Mirai can be very particular with what she will and won’t eat. The ones she skips are usually toxic. That can’t just be instinct as the species evolved on a separate continent and have never really lived on Poni Island before. However, you would stop short of saying that absol evolved precognition to avoid dangerous plants; they were more likely to encounter avalanches than foreign fauna on their isolated mountaintops. Decent memory and communal information sharing are easier to develop than precognition and solve the plant problem just as well.

“Hapu thinks I should challenge her to a grand trial,” you muse aloud. The absol glances up to look at you before going back to grazing on some tall grasses. You can never tell how much she understands without a translator. Probably more than you understand from her. “Asked why I’m here. On Poni, specifically, but I suppose it could also be in Alola in general. I could have left. We talked about this.”

Your parents offered to take you when they went back to Japan. Widespread evacuation is still infeasible as neither side is willing to budge. The people who can afford dragonite flights or long-range teleporters have all quietly slipped out. Sure, a few stayed behind and counted on their security details to keep them safe. Put on a good show about how they aren’t scared. Then Noci tore through the Gage compound like a child smashing a sandcastle. The rest of the faux aristocrats holed up in their little castles all got out within the day.

There were good reasons to leave. Alola is a war zone. So far it hasn’t been too rough, but that will change eventually. You’ve studied native plants enough to know how to find things that are safe to eat (and didn’t even need future sight magic to do it). There’s enough meat on Coco’s prey that she doesn’t even notice the humans taking a cut. Water can be filtered and boiled. Cuicatl has a near monopoly on force wherever she goes. There just isn’t much that can get past a tyrantrum and a metagross, let alone the rest of your combined teams.

Even with those protections, you’re still on borrowed time. You will run out of clean filters eventually. Alola’s ecosystems did not evolve to handle a tyrantrum preying there full-time on top of all of the poaching everyone else is doing. Ula’Ula barely even had megafauna beyond a few feral tauros and gogoat. Cuicatl had extinguished almost all of them by the time you moved on. The ecosystem was already teetering on the edge after months of darkness. Clothing, cookware, medicine, pokémon care supplies, and almost everything else in your packs (including the packs themselves) can’t easily be replaced if it’s used up or broken beyond repair.

Is this what it felt like in the last days of Rapa Nui? A once thriving island destroyed because man had to claim everything.

The president has also threatened to kill every man, woman, and child on these islands if no one assassinates Acerola for him. Even if someone does, everyone’s lives would still be in the hands of the kind of person who can threaten to do that to his own people.

You’ve been almost enjoying yourself the past few weeks, despite all the drama with Danielle, Cuicatl, Genesis, Kekoa, Sitrus, and the goddamn metagross. This feels familiar enough to the Alola you studied before your journey to be comfortable while still being unfamiliar enough to be truly worth documenting. The problem with walking a well-trodden path is that you can’t really find things worth saying that someone else hasn’t already said. Now? You took to filling up a second journal with just observations on the world’s reactions to Necrozma. Entries became less and less frequent the further you got away from that crisis. Now you’re back to a dozen little notes a day. This could be actually important information for someone and you didn’t have to go to the bottom of Mammoth Cave to find it!

This is what you wanted to do with your life before, well, everything. Go out and explore. Then things got out of hand. But the last time you were on Poni, Gen tore into you. Told you that you couldn’t escape from the world’s problems because you’re part of the problem yourself.

Hearing her say that… it did make you think.

You just wanted to be safe. There were people who would hurt you, physically, mentally, or emotionally, if you gave them half a reason. You would not give them that reason. If you had to learn to play their game, so be it.

Cuicatl had the potential to be strong in the ways that you weren’t. Your plans to save Genesis began to rely on her using her strength in ways that would save your best friend but ruin her own life when the inevitable consequences came. You were fine with that sacrifice. You thought it was yours to make.

It didn’t even matter in the end. You had warning and you still couldn’t stop what happened. Cuicatl stepped up. That’s the only reason anything was salvaged. Yet Cuicatl probably would have even if you hadn’t done anything to convince her. In the end you couldn’t even save Gen from retreating back into her worst impulses and drifting away. Never did get the romance of your dreams.

You’re not even sure you want it anymore. Not with her. You always thought her ability to cling to her innocence and keep her morals despite everything the world through at her was charming. She was something solid to cling to in a world of shifting sands. Now? She needs to grow up a little. The same drive that led Cuicatl to risk her life to save Gen led her to make a deal with Acerola to keep her surrogate daughter. She can’t date someone because they’re violently protective of the people close to them and then explode on them when they violently protect the people close to them. You aren’t condoning what happened to the Gages, but you aren’t shedding any tears, either.

Gen may never accept that no one, even herself, will ever rise to her standards for morality. Trying to meet them almost led to her death in all the ways that matter. It led her to be borderline abusive to her girlfriend. If that was you, well, you probably would have sat back and thought you deserved it as well. Maybe Cuicatl would have tried to help. She probably wouldn’t have. Girl doesn’t understand what healthy boundaries look like.

You’re not sure you do, either. Both of the other girls called you out for the imorin. And this all started because you thought just one kiss would bring Gen to her senses and make everything better. Or maybe you just wanted it and took it, consequences be damned. All these years trying to stay safe from the monsters of the world and you let one take up shop inside your very soul.

You find a tree stump with a very clean-cut top. Looks sanded, too. Clearly a makeshift bench. You sit down there to think for a moment longer.

“What are we doing here?” you ask the absol. Or maybe no one. You don’t expect her to understand. Certainly don’t expect her to answer.

You know why you’re here. It doesn’t have anything to do with the observations. You would probably have left the moment the bomb threat was issued if it weren’t for Cuicatl. The girl can’t leave. The ghosts are insistent on that. She’s so strong in ways you never could be, and you aren’t just referring to her team. She still needs saved from herself sometimes. You certainly don’t trust Noci to look after her wellbeing. Still aren’t sure what Danielle even is, much less if she’s a part of the problem or a solution to it. Kekoa is helping (somehow), but he’s not exactly prime emotional support material.

If you leave, there won’t be anyone left that you trust to take care of her. It’s easy to imagine the broad strokes of what would happen next, but she’d likely surprise you with the details.

Maybe you’re being coerced into doing this. You’ve thought yourself in circles about it until you got a headache. In the end, it doesn’t matter. The action flows naturally from your values. Even if you aren’t…

You’ve been ignoring Mirai, haven’t you?

“Hapu wanted to know if I cared about being strong. The kind of strength you get from the island challenge. I did. I’m just not sure how much it matters anymore, you know? How are we supposed to compete with people like Cuicatl and Jabari? We’re not champion material. We’ll never be entirely safe, whatever badges we win.”

You look up and see your starter giving you an almost murderous look. What? Did you do something wrong? You don’t think you committed a faux pas. Absol don’t have the same kind of rules as the fairies and dragons. It’s times like this where you’re very jealous of Cuicatl. She would find a way to speak the dark-type’s language—she’s done it before.

“What has you upset?” you ask, even knowing that it’s probably pointless.

Mirai steps forwards and digs into your purse. It takes her a while, but she finds your trainer passport and pulls it out. After setting it on the ground she flips the pages with delicate movements of her hoof to get to the fourth page. The two smaller boxes at the top are both checked. The grand trial is blank.

“Yes, I know we haven’t. That’s what Hapu is talking about.”

She insistently taps the empty box with her hoof.

“I know, it just… it feels pointless after everything.”

Absol taps it again.

“…are you saying you want to do this?”

She nods. Huh. Guess she understand a lot more than you thought. The idea of her wanting this feels odd. You never bought too much into pokémon liberation. Still thought that the pokémon couldn’t really enjoy battling. It’s just an unpleasant thing they have to do in exchange for food. No different than humans shutting up and smiling behind a cash register all day. Then again, the island challenge might just be a game for Mirai. She’s never been seriously hurt. Contributes well in most fights. She is your starter and was bred for the purpose. Perhaps it’s her journey as much as yours and she would like to see it finished.

It really is a shame that Cuicatl and Noci can’t translate for her. You would like to have a more substantive conversation. For now, this will have to do.

“Alright. I’ll see how the rest of the team feels about it.”

She withdraws her paw from the passport. Guess that’s good enough for her.

*​

September 9, 2020

Danielle is busy training her own team for the fights ahead. You don’t trust Noci at all.

That leaves your newest available translator. You were worried the floette would try and drive an extortionary bargain. It turns out that she’s just happy to meet a human who wants to talk to their pokémon. Went on about how some had to be forced through life-debt bargains and still made a fuss about it. Kekoa glowered beside her but didn’t say anything.

You rarely saw him use Cuicatl to translate for him while you were traveling together. Maybe once or twice before a battle. Despite everything, Armoranth may have been good for him. You still aren’t eager to see him end up in her debt again. You would hate to see what Cuicatl would do next time. (Again, you can guess the broad strokes, but not the details.)

“Lovely weather, isn’t it?” Armoranth asks.

It’s a little warm for your tastes. There was a little rain last night, but this is still the tail end of the dry season. The clouds have already come and gone. You have a clear view out to the cracked remains of Poni’s old volcano. You don’t want to talk for long about you, however. That is how she’d find a way to get you. “It’s fine. I’m just curious if you need more rain for your flower.”

You’re pretty damn sure from your reading that the flower is dead. Perhaps even frozen in time. It’s just a prop like an alakazam’s spoons. You’re also pretty sure she wouldn’t like being called out on it.

“Oh, a little would be nice. I miss Kalos sometimes. The sun and rain were more balanced and snow was mercifully infrequent. Tropical deluges are worse than a mild winter.”

You thought she was born here. Cuicatl was tasked with catching her in Melemele Meadow. You’re also pretty sure she’s not going to proffer any information without a price. This is probably just a little sample to lure you in.

“I can see why you would think that.”

She rolls her eyes. “Before we get started, I have a proposal.”

That sounds dangerously close to a bargain. You give her an appraising stare. She looks perfectly innocent. That just puts you more on guard. Mirai tenses beside you. She can’t hear the flower’s telepathy, but she can pick up little changes in your body. Knows that something might be about to go down. Good girl. Jishin can hear but must not realize the threat this tiny little flower poses. He’s perfectly relaxed.

“Well?”

She twirls the flower around in her hands. Still the perfect little ingenue. You can almost imagine how Kekoa got himself snared. “I have become aware of your aversion to the stronger telepaths of the world. I am pleased to say that I could offer you immunity.”

Who leaked that information? Kekoa? Probably Kekoa. You doubt he expected you to meet. It was still a major infosec breach to a presumably hostile entity. You pull yourself together and resolve to chew him out later. “At what price?”

She giggles. Giggles. “Nothing much. I hear you fancy yourself a puppet master. A little fairy in the making. I think this is splendid and want to give you a little challenge to hone your skills.”

You almost say ‘yes’ to indicate ‘go on.’ Catch yourself in time. Thank ash and water. “What would this challenge be?”

“Just the tiny little loss of the ability to tell outright lies.” She must sense your hesitation because she blasts ahead. “You can still tell truths with the intent to deceive! Being unable to lie can make that even easier as no one reads much into our words.”

“Only a fool ignores a fairy’s wording.”

“Well, yes.” She waves a hand dismissively. “You are no fairy, though. You do not have a preceding reputation for trickery.”

It’s tempting. You imagine you could get very good at working around the limitation within a few weeks. The problem is that you do not trust the deal to be delivered as portrayed. Armoranth just lost her bound human and must be looking for another. She is also simply a floette. Most of her kind can barely even use telepathy, much less grant an immunity to it. Even if she could, she would doubtlessly stretch the limit as far as she could justify. You’ve seen how even “benevolent” mind manipulation turned out for Cuicatl. It would just be another little vulnerability in your mind. Trading one gash in the armor for another.

“I will decline.”

“May I have your reasons for doing so?”

“No.”

Her face falls. Was she really expecting that to work? She must be far too used to dealing with Kekoa.

“Now, then, I believe you were going to offer your services as a translator for free.”

She twirls her flower and forces her mouth into a smile that doesn’t reach the eyes. “Yes, I did so agree. Now send out your team. I have things to do myself, you know?”

You whistle. Musei’s maybe two kilometers out at the nearest river. You have no doubt he’ll hear it all the same. In the meantime, you send out the three pokémon you have been keeping in their pokéballs for the time being.

Rigan-ryū flops out onto the ground. The pyukumuku tepidly extends her stomach before abruptly withdrawing it from the dry air. She much prefers her lure ball to being outside this far inland. Having daily access to the ocean, even the cold ocean outside Castleton, was a nice break for her. The same goes for Ankā, the much larger dhelmise. He’s doing a little better, though. It takes a while for him to get cranky in dry air.

Subarashī lazily stretches out and flicks her tongue at you. Then she eyes up the rest of her teammates. She’s been pressing boundaries lately. Testing you, yes, but especially your teammates. If she must be your subordinate, she would at least like to be the leader of the pokémon. The others have been ignoring her or, worse, outright disagreeing. It puts you in a rough spot. Offering social advice and showing her the limits of imorin do keep her loyal to you. At some point, though, that advice must yield results. She will either end up usurping most of your authority as the team’s leader or she will see no more use for you at all and try to drug you into submission. It’s a very delicate balance. One that you have increasingly little time to maintain while she starts to really press.

Musei arrives about a couple minutes after your call. He lands and lets out a cry that you feel in every bone of your body. Subsonic, mercifully. Coco’s been helping him be loud in a way that doesn’t get you kicked out of every city you enter.

Armoranth winces. What’s her hearing range, anyway? You had assumed it was roughly human. In hindsight, that is a very silly assumption given her radically divergent physiology and lineage. You doubt she would be amenable to testing without getting something substantial in return. Perhaps you could structure the test in a way that she wouldn’t understand?

It would certainly be an interesting first publication. “An Examination of the Auditory Processing of an Uncooperative Floette; L. Miura.”

“If that is everyone, may we begin?” Armoranth asks. She does sound more irritated than before. A good data point. It’s also something you should focus on later.

You do your best to pitch the final grand trial. Sure, you’re still pretty ambivalent, but it seems important to your starter. It helps that you’re also slowly coming around. Whatever the reasoning, you would like the rest of the team onboard. There’s one trick that she probably would not have thought of, though. The fourth grand trial is the end of the island challenge now. Sure, you could challenge the Elite Four, but you were a little hesitant to do that before. Doing so now would be a political act that would undermine Cuicatl and draw a lot of attention to yourself you would rather not have. This is the end.

Hopefully that motivates your team to treat it even more seriously than they otherwise would. It also effectively kills any resistance to a sort-of-unnecessary grand trial. What’s the point in fighting this when the end is so near? Because the end of the island challenge has another meaning. It’s when a trainer’s challenge team gets pared down.

You’ve always been clear about that. You repeat it once more to have both matters in the open, one far more important to the team than the other. And then you have to wait and see the responses.

Jishin wants to stay for his own weird religious reasons as much as anything. Armoranth gives you a nasty look and you try to convey in a glance that he was like this when you found him. Not his fault that the domesticated breeds have begun to see service to their creators as their guiding purpose.

“Speak for yourself,” Subarashī says in a serious of languid hisses. Even Armoranth’s translation flows more beautifully than Jishin’s. Which is probably imorin. You bite the side of your cheek and do your best to remember that she’s just an overgrown salamander and not the most beautiful pokémon to ever live. This isn’t even a high dose. She’s just testing her limits. “I am here to learn about the world and to return home strong enough to claim my harem. I will battle for the honor bestowed upon me. Then it is high time that I either return or…”

She trails off long enough for Armoranth’s translation to catch up.

“…or begin my harem here.”

“It’s been a pleasure to meet you,” you say over the untranslated outrage of Jishin, Ankā, and Musei. Mirai would probably be angry, too, if the absol could hear the telepathic translation. “I hope you have a good life after this.”

You’re very glad that she’s leaving. The off ramp you’ve been very clearly leaving open was mostly for her. You’ve barely used her perfume in the last few months. If you do need it, you have enough stored to last you… hopefully forever. It’s hard not to feel scummy with it on after getting chewed out over it last time.

The rest of the team eventually calms down when it’s clear that the salazzle will not be sticking around. None of them ever seemed fond of her. And that was after teaching the poison-type how to win people over.

A soft gargling begins. It’s barely even audible. Rigan-ryū rarely talks, especially on land. She wants to go after the grand trial. Isn’t mad since this is what he agreed to. She’s just reached the end of that agreement and wants to find a mate for herself.

You thank her for staying with you for so long.

She doesn’t bother to answer. Never cared for social niceties.

Musei begins to rumble. Armoranth insists on translating it at a deafening volume that drowns out all other thoughts. She is definitely annoyed. “FIGHTING IS FUN. I ENJOY IT. WHO ARE WE FIGHTING THIS TIME? IS IT THE EARTH SHAKERS YOU WERE TELLING US ABOUT BEFORE? THAT WILL BE VERY FUN. I WILL JUST FLY ABOVE ALL OF THEIR ATTACKS AND LAUNCH THINGS AT THEM. CAN I LEARN TO LAUNCH MORE THINGS? I LIKED THE LAST TM. I WOULD LIKE ANOTHER. OH, AND I WILL STAY AS LONG AS YOU STAY NEAR BERRIES AND FISH AND KEEP SCRATCHING MY NECK. I LIKE BEING SCRATCHED ON THE NECK. CAN WE DO IT AGAIN NOW?”

“Um, soon.” You try to blink the spots out of your eyes. Why are those even there? Is that a result of the maximum volume telepathy? You shoot a nasty look at Armoranth. She has her flower held behind her like the perfect picture of innocence. “I don’t know when I’ll find a TM. That’s a yes on the berries and fish. And neck scratches. Come here.”

He screeches at a high enough pitch that you can feel the air shake against your skin before lumbering forward on all fours. Armoranth mercifully does not translate.

You run a hand through the scruff around the noivern’s neck. It’s very soft. This is a bribe you are more than willing to give as long as he stays reasonably quiet. The dull, resonant purring he makes is even kind of cute. It’s a little weird that you can see the seaweeds around Ankā’s anchor shaking from it. Not that the dhelmise seems to care at all.

The rest of your team have spread out a little due to all of the yelling. Unfortunately, most of them can still hear some of Musei’s screaming. There isn’t really a pitch that avoids all of your audible ranges. The exceptions are Rigan-ryū, who hasn’t even bothered to try and move, and Ankā, who you’re pretty sure doesn’t hear in the same way an animal does.

Ankā speaks up last. “I am still discovering new things here. I will fight. Then I will stay. I do not know for how long.”

He’s unlocked some memories from before as he’s spent more time around humans. He may have been human once. Or perhaps he simply traveled with one. Perhaps both. There’s precious little research on dhelmise. It seems at least plausible that they could be collectives of ghosts, or perhaps they absorb some of the souls of those that pass on nearby. It’s been a fascinating little section in your notebook. He seems just as interested to learn as you.

With all the others spoken for, you turn to Mirai. “Well?”

She takes a step closer to you and nuzzles your leg. Guess she’s staying after the trial. That’s good. You’ve come to really like her. Maybe not in the same way Cuicatl likes her team, but it still feels genuine for what it is.

Maybe you should try and learn to speak… whatever her language is. At least work out more of a sign language or symbol board. You’d probably want it in her place.

The team meeting wraps shortly after. No one objected to the fight. The island challenge means different things to them, but it does hold meaning for them all. It’s a contract for Rigan-ryū, an exchange of time for training and protection from the real predators. A path towards conquest for Subarashī. A quest for missing family for Jishin, with elements of a pilgrimage mixed in. For Ankā it’s a path towards purposeful action and self-understanding. Mirai and Musei seem to find it entertaining.

And you…

You know you’re not the strongest. Will never be. You’re not the hero being asked to save Alola. You’re not a hero at all. So much of your life has just been learning to play stronger powers off of each other while taking what they’re willing to give. At some point you forgot how to be yourself.

It would be nice to pretend, if only for a day, that you’re powerful in your own right. That you could be the hero of someone’s story, even if it’s only your own.

It’s nice to have dreams.

*​

You pull out the first set of journals that Noci left you, at least one fake. The handwriting was the same in this one. Almost everything was. There were just a few little alterations. Most were just adjectives. Cuicatl’s outfit was “cute” instead of “vivid,” her pouting was “adorable” instead of “pathetic.” There are a few lines added or lost. More detail describing her laugh. Less on an argument you had.

There aren’t many entries at all that are heavily altered, and never substantively. She was singing the evening after Kekoa came back. He chewed her out about some dumb rule and said she was ruining his relaxation. In one notebook you mostly record the argument and your speculation on how Kekoa’s return would alter your group dynamics. The other mostly describes the song and how Cuicatl had looked in the dim light. (She’s always looked best at dawn and dusk.) The argument gets just a passing mention.

Reading all of it again, it sounds like how you used to describe Genesis. Just a useless lesbian with a crush. Those are the entries you remember writing. There are even a few moments that you remember but didn’t record that support it. You remember a moment on the trail where Cuicatl bent over to get a rock out of her shoe. You realized that she really had put on some weight since you’d confronted her on Akala. In a very good way.

It’s not impossible to believe you formed a crush on her. To start, she’s adorable. Her harsh edges have softened up a little and her body’s been making up for the time she was too busy herself starving to grow. Still short. Still thin. Just a little more natural-looking. Her hair’s also a very rich shade of jade green that makes her look distinct. Both journals agree on that. And even if her moral compass is starkly opposed to Gen’s, she still has the same instinct to ignore what the world ones and pursue the path she thinks is right. And it does something to your stomach to think about her morals being aligned to the people she likes. Aligned to you in some way.

You’d never considered that a girl being willing to fight the entire world for you might be kind of hot.

There are also very good reasons to believe that you would not have naturally formed a crush on her. She is very, very different physically from the other girl you know for certain you were infatuated with. Gen’s tall for a girl and is beautiful in a far more conventional way. She has a proper moral code with bright lines she will not cross. Cuicatl has, at most, a list of priorities. She is incredibly desensitized to acts of violence, great and small, and allows her pet to keep a long leash even after they killed dozens of people, split her mind in half, and exploited your greatest trauma for a laugh.

Or for her own purposes. You still aren’t sure to what end. If she didn’t alter your mind, giving you the fake journal could have been aimed to drive you away by making you afraid or draw you closer by making you put a name to the feelings you were ignoring. The former seems more likely. If she did drive you away, it would be even easier to wrap her claws around Cuicatl.

You want to believe that Noci didn’t change anything in your mind. Her past telepathy has been horribly unsubtle. If she had done anything, it would also mean that she was actively lying to Cuicatl. You have no proof that she has otherwise done that. Outright lies would mean that she was not really accountable to anyone.

That’s a little terrifying to consider.

If she did give you the crush, it would be to stabilize Cuicatl emotionally. And that makes no sense. Even if you ignore how her last relationship ended, the situation with Danielle makes any romance way too risky right now. You’re not even sure if Danielle likes you. She usually just keeps to herself or talks to Cuicatl’s team.

She strikes you as supremely confident and very, very alone. Her friends and family are a world away and her team is dead. She doesn’t even remember any of the people traveling with Cuicatl. Whenever you try to reach out, though, she politely but firmly holds her boundaries.

Oh, and also you all might day in a matter of weeks and she’s involved in a high-stakes political gambit against a trainer who dramatically outclasses her. So many reasons it would be incredibly stupid to pursue anything now.

You close the journal. This has been pointless. You’ve already thought yourself in circles.

It’s about dinner time. You can certainly smell something downstairs. Might as well go help. Accomplish something useful.

*​

Cuicatl at least has a real kitchen here with electricity and running water. There are some solar panels out back and apparently a geothermal water heating system. You hadn’t thought to ask about any of it the last time you were here. Now any semblance of normalcy is a luxury.

The home’s owner is nowhere to be seen. Cuicatl’s alone in the kitchen sipping soup from a spoon and frowning. She turns towards you when you walk in. “Can you try this?”

You walk over. She has a small bowl of the soup poured out for testing. For a moment you think about asking for her spoon and stealing an indirect kiss before clamping down on that thought hard. If you get sick out here that might be it. Maybe Sitrus will spare an egg. Maybe. As long as literally nothing else needs it. If it’s between your life and a random rattata, you’re not going to make it.

You take a slow, considerate sip from a clean spoon. It’s a little salty. Surprisingly mild for something she made. Good umami flavor for not having any meat in it. Not always a given for vegetable soup, especially after the apocalypse. You know at least one family at Cake Day admitted to just throwing some canned food into a pot of water and boiling it.

“It’s good,” you tell her.

“Enough spice?”

“A little mild. Not sure it needs it, though.”

She smiles and nods in agreement. “I think it’s almost done, then.”

“I’ll set the table.”

It’s probably for the best that she doesn’t. Besides, she’s already done more than her share of work. Thankfully she just shuffles out of the way without objection. Sometimes she fights to take on more responsibility than anyone should have.

“Danielle not cook?”

You grab four plates and move towards the table. Hapu left in the morning. A shame. You have no idea how she’s going to find food in the ruins of Hau’oli.

“She’d burn herself.”

You roll your eyes. Yes, she probably would. But… “You know I’ve seen your hands, right?” They’re coated in small little scabs, cuts, and burns.

She huffs. It’s more playful annoyance than anger. You’ve learned the difference. Her actual annoyance is louder. Her anger is very quiet. “I haven’t seriously burned myself in ages.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.” You do worry about her. Just don’t know how to thread the needle between sounding concerned and demeaning her capabilities. Best to back away.

Should you grab something other than spoons? You can’t see or smell any other dishes being made. Probably just spoons. No need to waste water cleaning dishes that won’t be used. You can make Kekoa get forks out if need be.

“You, um…” She trails off and you look up from the table to face her. She’s hunched over, hands clasped together. Is this going to be a serious talk? This is how she usually looks before telling you about something heinous from her past and making you want to murder someone from another world. “You really think I would be a good queen?”

Right. This. Again, a delicate balance between being honest and being unduly harsh. You would prefer her over Acerola if you had to choose, if only because you don’t see a world where people listen to the princess after this shitshow of a revolution. You also don’t want to see Cuicatl being forced to answer for someone else’s decisions.

Maybe you should rearrange the spoons incorrectly, and then fix your mistake. Buy yourself some time. Make it sound like you got forks as well.

You don’t think she would be a good queen in the traditional sense. She’s nowhere near cynical enough and her education seems practically nonexistent. You don’t think she knows that there is a proper way to place the cutlery. You don’t think she’d care if she did know. “Polite” society would eat her alive. See her as either beneath their notice or too feral to bother engaging with.

It’s interesting how well your strengths cover her weaknesses.

She has her strengths, yes. You could talk about those at length. But even then…

“I’m not sure you should,” you finally say. “And that’s not about you. I don’t think anyone our age should. The adults fucked everything up generations ago and now we have to solve their problems. It shouldn’t be like this. We should just be finishing our island challenges and worrying about going back to school or going pro or whatnot instead of all of this. It’s…” You sigh and shake your head. Something wet goes down your cheek. Odd. “You shouldn’t have to make that choice.”

She just laughs. All of that and she finds it funny? Is she not offended? Your words went off-course. You may have insulted her more than you had planned to.

“Lyra, nothing ever goes the way that it ‘should.’ We just have to figure out what to do with what we have. If you don’t think I would be good at this, I agree. I’m probably better as champion or something.”

You take a deep breath and wipe off your cheek. Still need to get cups. You pause when the cabin’s open. She’s just a few feet away and you really aren’t sure how to salvage this. “I know,” you finally say. “Trust me, I know. But you don’t deserve to be in this position. I want you to know that. You deserve better than this world’s given you.”

And so does Hapu.

Your brother.

Kekoa.

Genesis, wherever she is.

Even you.

Is Hapu just trying to help you feel normal by finishing the island challenge? Is she trying to feel normal herself.

Dinner is quiet. Neither you nor Cuicatl try to strike the conversation back up.

You spend it wondering about a better world where your biggest struggle was figuring out how to beat Hapu. A world where everyone in your group could be like every other irritating group of teenagers at your school whose greatest fear was turning in an assignment late or getting turned down by a boy. A world where little girls don’t need a suit of armor.

*​

You’re jolted from your thoughts by someone clearing their throat. You do not jump out of your chair a little. Certainly look very composed when you look at the old woman standing beside you, lit up in the setting sun.

“Goodness, you almost tipped the chair over.”

You try to play it off with a laugh.

“What had you so deep in thought? I noticed you were distracted throughout dinner.”

You bite your lip and look back out at the fields while you buy time. How deep do you want to get? She is a stranger. That gives you a degree of freedom as your words will likely not come back to haunt you. It also limits the amount of vulnerability it is socially acceptable to show.

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” you settle on. “And I don’t really know why I’m doing it.”

She laughs and slowly lowers herself into the rocking chair beside you. They’re wooden and clearly worn. Probably hand carved, too, given the number of old wooden trinkets around the home. It’s nice. “Honey, I’ve never been certain I’m on the right path. I don’t think anyone ever is. Best we can do is try our best today. If it doesn’t work out, we apologize and try something new tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes. Things are never simple enough to be summarized like that.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asks. “And, I suppose, why?”

Perhaps you should have expected that question.

“I’m worried about Cuicatl. Trying to protect her. Not physically. Can’t really help with that anymore. Just,” you wave your hand in an arc, “all the other stuff.” You know you’re broken. Irreparably so. Given enough time, you’ll probably hurt her, too. But the world is pulling her into its gnashing teeth and she isn’t prepared. You don’t want her to end up like you.

The old woman just hums in response. “And are you looking out for yourself, too?”

“Cuicatl would burn down the world if someone tried to hurt me.”

“And is she helping with ‘all the other stuff?’”

You sigh and pull your arms closer to your chest. It’s almost chilly tonight. You’re not sure where the cold snap came from or why. Might be as low as 15 centigrade, 60 American. When you were a child, you would have laughed at anyone who called that cold. Now you don’t even have a proper coat.

“She would,” you tell her. She would probably even be good at it. It certainly seems like she has a way with her team. “She’s just busy with her own problems.”

“And has she told you that?”

You glance over at her. She seems earnest. You’re pretty sure no one has told her about the split personality, the psychopathic robot, the guy with a salamence and tyranitar she has to beat, or learning that she’s from another world. She never even had time to mourn the pokémon who raised her. Are you really going to barge in and tell her that you’re worried you had a crush forced upon you after she had her mind broken in half? Tell her that you’re scared you ended up as the kind of monster you grew up fearing? That’s your own damn fault.

“I would ask. If not her, then Kekoa.”

You snort. Okay, maybe you should ask him. It would be hilarious. You can imagine him floundering while trying to talk about feelings without deflecting or running away.

“I’ll think about it.”

The woman slowly starts to stand. Finally.

“I hope you do. And if you’re worried you’re doing the wrong thing, you can always change it tomorrow. It takes bravery to admit you were wrong. Took me far too long to learn that.”

Absurd. You can’t just change overnight. It took years to make you this way and…

You don’t cry when the door closes. Your armor doesn’t crack at the thought of monstrously unfair the world can be. You learned that a long time ago. It wouldn’t catch up to you now. Not in a way that would affect you that much. You’re annoyed that the metagross keeps reminding you that even your mind is not your own, not outraged and violated and retraumatized. That would be selfish. You’re the only person keeping everything from collapsing. You don’t have time for silly crushes or recreational battling or an emotional breakdown.

That’s not who you are. You pull through when other people can’t. It’s what you sacrificed everything for. No one can hurt you beneath the armor. You aren’t opening the gash in that armor wide enough to let someone in. Then it’s not functional armor anymore.

You wish you could. You wish changing was as simple as she made it out to be. It just isn’t.

The orange hues fade to blue before darkness swallows it all.

Cuicatl asks where you’ve been when you return to the bedroom. You smile and lie.

Maybe someday you’ll open up.

Maybe tomorrow or the day after that.

But it’s too late today.