Thanks for the reviews, y'all! I answered most of you on Discord, so I won't repeat my comments here, but I really appreciate it. In any case, this chapter was long overdue since I had problems with the editing process and other projects just got in the way. I really hope the wait was worth it for all of you. If anything seems amiss, though, please let me know.
Chapter 8 - Map to the Stars
“I came from the wild,” Bronze started. “Well, we lived around one of the cities, I don’t remember which. We’d usually go at night, scrounging whatever food we found from rubbish bins and litter. So, we knew a little about humans. They wore clothes. Some of them travelled with other Pokemon. We didn’t know they were called trainers, though. The only thing that mattered was that we stayed out of those routes.”
Isobel listened on, turning to face Bronze as he talked.
“I was the runt of the pack, though, so I’d usually get the last pick of the scraps we found. I didn’t particularly feel welcome there either. So, I went into one of the routes and wandered around until I found a trainer that would take me in. And, well, he was my old trainer, Trevor.” He grunted. “Isobel knows the rest, but to sum it up to you, I don’t have many kind words to say about him.”
Mum sighed, bunching up closer to Bronze, and Isobel did too. He still lay there with his back against the grassy floor.
“I mean, he was nice, to a point. He still took care of me, fed me, groomed me, even when he complained about it, and when he was in a good mood, he would give me treats and stroke my ears.”
Isobel grit her teeth. “That’s the bare minimum any trainer should do, and I’m not just sayin’ that because mine was nice and all.”
“I know…” Bronze changed positions and sat in a loaf formation. “I was about to say, he was just so bitter about what happened to him, getting cut off by his father, that he just…” Bronze whimpered, lowering his ears. “I don’t really understand that much.”
“What else is there to get, really?” Isobel crossed her arms. “He was salty about his own lot in life — he shouldn’t have taken that out on you, or that Raboot.”
“Oh, no, him and that Raboot really got along.” Bronze blew a raspberry. “Like trainer, like Pokemon, I suppose.”
Isobel glanced at Mum, who took a great interest in Bronze’s story from the way she stared at him, but she seemed to be percolating her thoughts. Bronze sat back up on his haunches, staring at the horizon.
“Since you took me in, well…” He looked down. “I kept thinking, what if I made a mistake leaving Trevor?”
“Are you kiddin—” Isobel stood up to her knees—“that guy treated you like dirt! Of course, leavin’ him was the best thing you could’ve done!”
“I know, I know.” Bronze raised his head. “But even back then, being with a trainer, I felt like I had a purpose fighting for him.” He was on the verge of tears again. “Now, I have no idea what I want to do or where I want to go or if anyone will want to take me in or what I want to live for or—”
“Bronze,” Mum said, leaning in to hug him. “I’m sorry to hear about all of that. Whoever that human is, he was a fool for not supporting you. You have much more worth than he does.”
Bronze breathed in and out, trying not to cry. Isobel shifted closer to him, offering a helping hand in case he needed it.
“Isobel sounds like she’s helped you a lot since then. So you have someone that cares for you.” Mum glanced at her and smiled before fixing her attention on Bronze again. “I want to reassure you, the pack isn’t malicious. They are nice around me. They just need time taking in a new member of the pack, as you might as well.”
Bronze closed his eyes, leaning into Mum more as she stroked his coat. She probably spent a lot more time with these Thievul than Isobel did with Bronze. A part of her entertained the idea of Mum taking Bronze in herself, but she didn’t want to impose.
“Thank you, Terra.” He sighed, shifting away from her embrace. “I’ll be fine.”
Mum let go, and a period of silence followed. They needed that stillness, especially when they were surrounded by all the birds, the swaying trees, and all the nature around them. Isobel felt like she was in a different world where time stopped, except for the gradually dwindling sunset.
“Sorry, Isobel,” Bronze said at last, “I don’t want to seem ungrateful after everything you’ve done for me.”
“That’s a lotta nonsense, Bronze.” Isobel took a deep breath and let it out. “I get it, y’know. Sometimes, I wish I went back to the way things were myself, when I was still besties with Gloria.” She hummed. “I mean, we still are somewhat close, but it’s not the same anymore.”
“Actually,” Mum said, turning to Isobel, “I’m curious to know what you two were like. She sounded like a fine trainer.”
“Yeah, and that’s why I’m so…” Isobel grumbled. It was on the tip of her tongue, but it was tied into knots. “Argh, sorry.”
“It’s alright. Just take your time.”
“Yeah, okay.” She crossed her legs. “It’s a long story, after all.”
With that, Isobel explained her career from the start of Gloria’s traineeship, all the way to the last gym battle. Mum expressed a fondness for tales of her battle, like Dad did, but she didn’t seem disappointed to hear why Isobel left.
“So, if I understand, once she mentioned her plans to become a gym leader, that was it for you?”
“I mean, yeah.” Isobel leaned back and stared at the sky. She barely saw the full moon up there, though the light from it was dim. “Pokemon hafta commit to that sorta thing all the time, since there’s all this added pressure of bein’ in the limelight and gettin’ in gym battles all the time, settin’ an example and such.” She raised a hand, clutching the moon with her fist. “I could see all my life’s plans bein’ sealed, just like that, y’know…”
She sighed. Truthfully, Isobel was pleased for Gloria and the rest of the team. She particularly hoped that Eddy and Emi were doing fine. Even as she recalled it to Mum, though, her stomach churned.
“I hope ya understand, anyway.”
“Of course.” Mum idly grabbed a clump of grass, kneading it in her palm. “Really, I don’t know what Dad was so upset about.”
“Well, I’m actually the one who got upset.” She clutched her arms. “He was nice and all, I just, I don’t get it. Well, I don’t think he got me. I wish he could’ve seen it from my eyes, but it sounds like everything was all sunshine and rainbows for him, while I’m stuck feelin’ like this.”
There it was, that dead air again. The birds chirped in the distance. The leaves rustled around them. Paws pounded in the distance, probably Kuro again. Isobel was about to get up when Mum gripped her hand.
“I know how you feel. I only stuck around for as long as I wanted to, and my trainer understood that from the beginning. That ended up being a long time until I quietly left on my own.”
“How did you put up with it all?”
Mum looked to her side, listening out for any signs of that Pangoro. “My urge to fight was stronger than my urge to leave. It’s a part of me, just like eating or sleeping is. And training my body was my goal to begin with.”
Isobel placed another hand over Mum’s. “I don’t get doin’ it for its own sake, at least, not now.”
“I know you were adamant to prove yourself and train yourself the hardest.”
“Yeah, I moved past that, I was just one stubborn Machop back then.” Isobel rubbed the back of her head. “But I mean, what’s the point in the long run when every fight is just for your trainer’s sake?”
There was a pause. Mum looked as if she was choosing her words carefully, silently mouthing them to herself.
“I never thought of it that way,” Mum confessed. She relaxed her grip and stood up, dusting the dirt off of her bloomers.
“We aren’t just born with these muscles — we have to train them every day, and it takes a lot out of us. We wake up, spend all day sweating and toiling out in the open, and go to sleep to continue the cycle. Sometimes, we wake up, wishing to get rid of this everlasting ache. But we learn so much about our own strengths and weaknesses that way, as well as what does and doesn’t work for us when we try to better ourselves. Your mind sharpens just as much as your body. That’s what training and exercise is for me, a chance to grow.”
Right, right. Isobel knew that on a gut level, but hearing it said aloud made much more sense to her. The same could’ve applied to her reasoning behind helping other Pokemon — training them was as much of an opportunity for them to find meaning in their lives as it was fulfilling hers.
“Didn’t you wanna stay there? Not with a trainer, just on your own, though I guess there wasn’t really a PokeJobs thing out there.”
Mum shook her head. “Even if I had that chance, I didn’t think I’d be happier providing for myself by exchanging paper. Here, everything is mine for the taking as long as I work for it. But over there, you have to sacrifice your own time for someone else’s goal, and it might not even be physically or mentally rewarding like gathering is.”
“Right?” Isobel let out an exasperated sigh. “A lot of folks I see that aren’t training look pretty dang miserable.”
“Exactly.”
“Though there are miserable trainers like mine,” Bronze said with a grin.
“Yes, that too. And humans have excessive desires, even trainers, as if your worth is measured by how much you have.” Mum gestured to the world around her: the painterly sky, the stillness of the woods, the grass brushing past her ankles. “All of this is enough for me.”
That pain grew inside Isobel again. Mum was much more articulate than Dad was, and she agreed with everything she said, even awakening thoughts she had never even realised before. Though, from the sounds of it, Isobel was everything she stood against.
“So, what are you up to now?” Mum asked.
Isobel put the rest of her thoughts aside and jumped straight into it, feeling more that ease than she did before. She talked about the PokeJobs programme, her ambitions to become a coach, and the process of leaving Gloria to strike out on her own. Mum burst into laughter when she heard Isobel’s story about getting scammed by that other trainer, and Isobel and Bronze found themselves laughing with her. A week wasn’t too soon, was it?
“Interesting,” Mum said, “Lob and Shy might have some coaching tips for you, of course. And have you started yet?”
Isobel shook her head, digging her fingers into a clump of mud. “I-I wanna, though.”
“You sound hesitant.”
“Y-you think so?” She rubbed her dusty hands together. It was either getting chilly as it was turning night, or Isobel was just taken aback. Probably both. “I mean, I just dunno if it’ll be successful, I dunno if people will wanna let a Machamp coach ‘em, I dunno if I’m actually a good coach—”
“Isobel,” Bronze said, sitting up on his haunches, “how do you think you won against that trainer if you weren’t?”
Crap. She didn’t have a good response for that. Bronze continued to eye her with concern. Mum turned back, facing away from Isobel.
“I thought you moved past this stage,” she said.
“Y-yeah.” Isobel took a deep breath. “But this is different.”
“How so? It’s in the same sort of business, except you’re on the other side of the battle.”
“Nah, I mean, I’m doin’ everything by myself here, not just followin’ a trainer around.” She sniffed. “And I can’t even do that right, not payin’ my bills on time and gettin’ slapped with fines and such. I mean, what am I even good for?”
Mum tightened her fists and sharply turned, her face creased up.
“Kit, I don’t want to hear you say that about yourself.”
That stunned Isobel into silence. Even Bronze was shocked, his jaw agape. Reading the room, he quietly slunk away from the two, sitting against a tree to not stand between them.
“You chose to go with a trainer, then you chose to go on your own, and they both have consequences. You could’ve visited all this time if you wanted — that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
For lack of any better words, Isobel nodded.
“Right. You alone made those choices. If staying here or with your trainer wasn’t right for you, then that’s fine. But if helping other Pokemon out is right for you, then go for it! What’s the worst that could happen?”
She couldn’t respond to that either. Eventually, Isobel shrugged, and Mum’s shoulders relaxed.
“You just don’t seem like you’re satisfied with yourself, not even back then, but you’ve achieved all of this from what I understand.” She raised her fist in the air, fake-punching at a far away cliff. “And no Machamp can lift a mountain without dropping a few boulders on the way.”
“I know, I know.” Isobel was as still as stone. “But aren’t adults supposed to have everything figured out?”
Mum blinked, and took Isobel by the hand, pulling her up. She expected her to say something, but they just wandered around more of the hilltops, seeing the different views of the forest ahead of them. Bronze followed, keeping himself close to Isobel. It continued like this for a while, and while Mum was still silent, the shuffling of her feet sounded different, walking at a slower, more deliberate pace.
“I’m not a life coach,” Mum finally said, letting go of Isobel’s hand as she continued leading the way. “I can’t say I know those human things you do. I can’t say I fully know what to do with my own strength for the sake of it, even after everything I’ve learned.”
“Then—“
Mum held a finger to Isobel’s lips. “There’s a lot I wish I could’ve done differently, and even I thought I wouldn’t keep feeling like a Machop at this point. That’s neither here nor there, though.” Her voice softened. “But I find peace here, hiking, talking and sparring with the wild Pokemon. It helps me think, and feel my best.”
“I sort of see what you mean,” Isobel said. “Though, I only started going for walks once Bronze came around.”
“Really?” Bronze chimed in. “Well, you do seem to be a bit of a slow hiker.”
“Thanks for the glowing praise,” Isobel said, sticking her tongue out.
“Now, you two,” Mum interjected, tapping Isobel’s shoulder. “But I would walk as often as you can in some sort of nature. Even I need some space from the dwelling sometimes.”
There was the Donphan in the room, or in this case, the Groudon looming over them. She wanted to ask if it had anything to do with Dad, but she kept it to herself.
“I guess. Sometimes, it helps, just spendin’ time on my own.”
“ExactIy. It just happens that I also make myself useful to the dwelling while I find that bit of peace and quiet.”
Isobel stopped walking, looking at the sky. It was getting darker and darker. She didn’t even know if she’d catch the train back home on time.
“Sorry, Mum,” Isobel said, “where’re you going with this?”
Mum turned, looking at the same view, and she pointed at a cluster of steel structures and chimneys far away.
“That place isn’t built for Pokemon like us. Or humans. Why do you think trainers spend so much time away from the city, and why do people in general risk their lives just hiking up wild areas and mountains?”
“To get away from it all?”
“Yes.” Mum wrapped her arm around Isobel, bringing her closer. “Everyone there is in such a hurry to prove themselves in their own ways, just like you are, and it sounds like torture. It might not be the cause of all of this strife, or I might be completely off. I haven’t known you for a while, Isobel.” She squeezed her side. “But if I can find my peace here, I hope you have some place you can find some respite, even for a little bit.”
“Like a vacation, or somethin’ else?” Isobel tugged at her pocket. “I need money for that, and to get money, I need ta—”
“You really do act like a human, don’t you?” Mum scoffed, relaxing her grip a little. “No, just a quiet place, away from the noise, away from people.” She snickered. “I hid in my Pokeball sometimes, that’s how much I couldn’t stand it while I tagged along with my trainer.”
Isobel snickered along with her too. Of course, it couldn’t hurt to get away from Circhester every once in a while. For a Pokemon who wanted to explore the region beyond Gloria’s guided tour, she really Pidgey-holed herself into one city for most of her freedom. Didn’t Admirari mention living in a cave? She wondered if she got some peace there.
It was getting dark. The moon loomed above them, brighter than the rest of the half-night sky. Twinkles barely popped out of the pale blue sky, slightly marred by the polluted orange light of the urban areas far away.
“Were you planning to stay here for long?” Mum asked.
Of course, that was partly why Isobel came to the dwelling, to find out if she could permanently stay there if she chose to, but she also just wanted to talk to her parents.
“Well, er, I didn’t think I’d be out this late.” She turned to Bronze. “Sorry, I didn’t plan on dragging you out here for so long either.”
“No, Isobel, I’m really glad I came.” He turned back, staring at the dark forest path. “It’s like Terra said, I never would’ve known if I didn’t take a risk.”
“That’s the spirit.” Mum patted Isobel’s back. “If you both need to stay for the night, you’re welcome to come back with me.” She rustled her bag. “This’ll all rot if I keep this out for too long.”
Mum started heading for the forest, leaving Isobel and Bronze behind. Or rather, she walked, expecting them to follow, only to turn around once she sensed they weren’t coming yet. Isobel had a lump in her heart. Bronze was halfway between the two, looking back and forth, at a loss for what to do. Sure, they weren’t going to stay on that hilltop, but at the same time, for Isobel, that meant going back to the dwelling to see Dad. And after that argument…
Mum stepped forward, tracing her steps back up the slope.
“Hey,” Mum called, barely visible in the darkness. “I have your back. If that meathead crosses a line, I’ll let him know.” She clapped her fist against her palm, piercing the silence of the woods. “Either way, I’ll try to make you two feel at home here.”
Right. Going forward was scary, especially in the dark like this. Then again, Isobel spent her whole life tumbling through the dark. There was so much else to unpack that she still didn’t know where to start. But if she had people that supported her, either Gloria, Bronze, or Mum, then that lightened the path, at least a little. So, she followed those two through the shadow-cloaked path.
If there was still any light left from the sky, the trees filtered it out. Isobel squinted to try and see better in the dark, but Bronze’s presence grounded her as he led the way, giving her an idea of where to set foot to avoid a nasty tumble. Eventually, Isobel’s eyes adjusted to the dark, and she could see the trees ahead of her. That, and more light streamed in from the plateau, so the incline would get less steep once she got past the clearing. When she reached that spot, however, she saw the same person she dreaded meeting again all this time.
“Dad?”
There he was, holding Isobel’s pair of sandals. Mum sternly glared at him while Bronze stood by Isobel’s legs. The other Thievul were nowhere to be seen, presumably resting in their dens.
“I have your back too,” Bronze whispered.
Isobel nodded, then took a deep breath. “What are you doing here?”
“Ah, uh…” Dad scratched that bald head of his, and opened his mouth multiple times to speak, but failed to produce any words. He just presented Isobel’s shoes. “You forgot these. I thought you might need ‘em.”
Isobel tapped her mud-crusted foot on the grass. “Yeah, uh, thanks. I’ve done fine so far, though.”
Dad hummed, and then, silence between the two of them.
“Look, I’m not good at this, I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, that makes two of us,” Isobel said, mimicking his head-scratching gesture.
“Yeah, I guess it does.” He turned to Mum, hand still on head. “How did the hunt go?”
“Alright, yes.” Mum stepped back to lean against a tree. “Alright, you two, I’m waiting.”
“But, er, c’mon, help me out here—”
“No. I think there’s something you should say to her first.”
“Alright, alright.” He sighed, approaching Isobel with open arms. She flinched, not knowing what would come next. The Morgrem within her stamped his feet. “So, sorry back there, um, Isobel? I really got tongue-tied there.”
“Okay.” Isobel took in a puff of air. He called her by her name this time. “I’m sorry too, for yellin’ at you.” She rubbed her arms. “That was, er, out of line.”
“Nah, nah, I know something’s goin’ through your head. It was just a shock, y’know?” He scratched his head again. “Yer all grown up and way different from when you were a Machop.”
“Yeah, I know.” Isobel shifted uncomfortably. “Well, you didn’t even let me explain what I’ve been doing all this time. That’s what hurt.” She frowned. “I... haven’t let you down, have I?”
“Of course not.” His eyes drooped, his lips curled, and his fists tightened. “You know I care about you, right? Even when you went on your own, I always thought about you. How you were getting on, if you were okay, you know. Just because Machop usually go on their adventures anyway doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”
Yet another gut punch. Of course, she knew, from all the magazines he had and that photo he hung up on the stone walls. When Isobel didn’t respond, Dad glanced at Mum with a sorrowful expression. He approached her and took her hand, squeezing it. In turn, Isobel knelt down to Bronze, patting his head for comfort, more for her sake than his. Dad whispered to Mum’s side, and she took him behind the tree to explain something. Isobel couldn’t see them and couldn’t make out what they were saying. When the two came back out and Dad approached Isobel again, he drew a palm over his face.
“What a doofus,” he said. “Look, sometimes I don’t think before I speak.”
“It’s okay,” Isobel replied. “Me neither. Like father, like daughter, I guess.”
The two chuckled, which lightened the mood a little. At least those two found one thing in common.
“One thing I still don’t get though — your trainer. She didn’t harm you or anythin’, but—“
“I just explained that.” Mum scolded. “Don’t make me repeat myself here.”
“Yeah, I know, I know, it’s just that my journey was like hers and yours too, and I didn’t feel that way.” He looked down at his feet. “I just wish I could feel your pain.”
Isobel hummed.“Yeah, and yours too.”
She wasn’t used to being missed like this. Again, Gloria obviously missed her when she struck out on her own, but she wasn’t a parent. Now, she seriously regretted what she said to Dad. Of course, all he wanted was what Isobel thought was best for her own wellbeing. Why was it so hard to talk sometimes, even in her own language?
That was when something clicked for her All this time, she abandoned the fighter’s language and let her words do the talking. But that still wasn’t enough to express how she felt, or what she went through — it was a gut sensation. Mum understood, but to the average fighter, these thoughts were only abstractions. Tricks of the mind.
And don’t forget about why I’m here. You’re itchin’ for somethin’, aren’t ya?
Yeah, she was. Time to kill two Pidgey with one stone.
“Dad,” Isobel said, getting into a battle stance, “let’s fight.”
“Wait, wait, hold on.” He backed away, splaying all four hands. “I know you’re mad at me, but—“
“No, it’s not like that. It’s as you said, fighting’s in our blood, right? We don’t have to be angry to do it — we do it to let off some steam and unwind, don’t we?”
“Right…” He scratched his head. “Er, sorry, I still don’t get it.”
“C’mon.” Isobel inched closer to him. “That’s how we bond as fighters. We exchange moves. We tell each other things just through bumping our fists. We even do it to say hello, don’t we?”
To punctuate this, she threw a weak punch at Dad’s shoulder opposite hers, and he did the same with a smile.
“So you… you don’t need to fight, you want it? With your old mon?
“Yup, with you, you old fart.”
“H-hey—“ he laughed it off, brushing her fist off his torso—“I said old mon, but I’m not that old…”
“Well, it’s been, what, many years, right?” Mum chimed in.
“Yeah, but—“ he rapidly shook his head. “Never mind. So, Isobel, you really wanna do this?”
“Positive. If it means I get to show you what I mean by all the stuff I said, then I’ll do it. And besides—“ she winked—“it’ll be fun. I bet I can kick your
ass.”
“Not before I kick yours.” Dad playfully pushed her away, entering a stance of his own. “So, right here?”
The crater seemed too open, like the league arenas, which made it more of a spectator sport. The forest clearing was their own private playground — it was not only filled with obstacles for them to take advantage of, it also hid their feelings as they displayed them so openly with each other, as naked as Machamp could be.
Isobel knew she was in for a tussle. So, for the first time in another mon’s company in a while, she shed her clothes, her shirt, her shorts, everything save for her pants. She took a deep breath and clutched her bare chest. It still felt weird. Her pecs were as chiselled as a man’s, yet she had the mind of a woman. Women had to hide that area, and for her, it was an artificial guideline, an unspoken rule she picked up from humans. But to Machamp, whether male or female, it made no difference. It was just another part of the body, like her face or her hands, no more, no less.
Before the fight began, Bronze and Mum left together. Isobel heard in passing that Mum would give her catches to the cooks, and that she would show Bronze to the Machop in the dwelling, since they would’ve enjoyed his company. Isobel hoped that furball would have a good time there.
Dad planted his feet firmly into the soft ground and gestured for Isobel to make the first move. So she sprinted towards him, winding up with a direct hook to the face. That was how she felt. He took a step back, recoiling from the blow, and recovered to deliver a swiping kick to Isobel’s feet. He felt confused and tripped up.
She dodged out of the way. Another hook to the chest, then the pelvis. She felt out of place. He went for a tripping sweep again. He still didn’t understand. Then she jumped and delivered a chop to the head with the side of her palm. She felt out of place in this world.
Dad backed away, knees meeting the ground. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Then they shot wide open. In a blink, he charged like a Bouffalant, pushing all of his force against Isobel’s body. The collision shook the branches around them. Despite the impact, Isobel resisted, pushing against him in an invisible tug of war. Why did she feel this way? She was trying to show that. In the struggle, there was that push and pull. Those wants and needs. Those haves and have nots.
Dad had the upper hand, sliding her across the muddy floor. What did she have over there that she didn’t over here? Isobel stood her ground, but failed to regain ground over Dad’s strength. Wow, he was tough. But she wasn’t going to win this through brute strength alone. Instead of fighting against him, she let go of his arms, making him topple forwards.
She made that choice herself. She needed those choices, to think outside the box, to swim against the current. Dad ran up to her, putting her back on her guard. He opened his arms, and Isobel responded by opening hers, expecting another power struggle.
Instead, Dad roundhoused her, straight in the solar plexus.
That kick knocked all the wind out of Isobel’s sails. She groaned, falling to her knees as she stared at Dad. He changed stances every few seconds, making his attack patterns unpredictable. Right. Choices were good, and in that moment, it served her well. But choices also had consequences, and with that, came responsibility. If it wasn’t for her lack of foresight, she could’ve avoided it. And now, Dad presented her with too many choices, too many possibilities, forcing her into indecision.
Her gut ached. And it ached like how his longing for her ached.
She couldn’t find a good way to counter him. She was running out of options. Dad wasn’t going to wait — he charged for her, winding up another attack. She had no time to think — any plans she made would just fall apart like chalk.
But where had plans gotten her before? She couldn’t predict how anything turned out in her life, from her departure from Gloria to her experience with Trevor. They both caused her a lot of pain. But without that, she wouldn’t have moved out on her own, and she wouldn’t have met Bronze. She couldn’t have seen those coming either. And that was all because she took the initiative to begin with.
Isobel decided not to fight against Dad’s attacks. All she could do was react to the changes, chances and opportunities that came her way. So she stood up and charged towards him too with a strike of her own. She was going to fight against it, for her right to exist as her own Pokemon.
The brawl lasted a while. Isobel dealt as many blows as she withstood, and through this, she grew to understand Dad more herself. He was a great fighter — perhaps she inherited his instincts. He was also ruthless, not giving Isobel any room for error. That was how she liked it, him not holding back. It made her feel responsible, even though it hurt.
The two were exhausted. Isobel panted, sweated, and ached all over, as Dad did as well. She took one step forward, as he did. She raised her fist, and he copied her move once more. They drew it back. They launched their punches. Their knuckles collided with each other’s cheeks, bringing with it a dull pain that sent their bodies tumbling downward. They fell alongside each other, but were still conscious, and their heads touched each other’s, both of them staring at the sky.
The unfiltered moonlight streamed in through the clearing, touching their faces. The sky was a speckled blanket. Even through her post-battle haze, Isobel recognised some of the constellations there. Ursaring Major. Litleo Minor. Sometimes, Gloria would get out her telescope at night and point out all of the different star formations, and she’d let Isobel see through it. What did it mean to her, aside from being pretty to look at?
It made Gloria feel small, but it also reassured her, since it gave her some way to know her place in the world, where she was at the moment, and that she wasn’t alone. Millions of people at that moment were probably gazing at the sky, just like her, and it was a shared experience, the chance to get to know another living being. Isobel didn’t know what she meant at the time, but now, she did. She was looking into space with Dad, seeing what he saw. She hoped he saw what she saw too.
She didn’t need words to express that, however. She felt it through her pounding heart, his heavy breaths. They both worked themselves to exhaustion. But through that, they experienced each other’s pains and wonders. Isobel wasn’t alone in this. And even if they saw the stars through different eyes, they were one and the same at the moment, his and her flesh and blood.
Isobel was a Machamp, through and through.
