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SnapDragon

Frog on a mission
Pronouns
He/Him
ayo I'm vwheelin' ova here!

hi :0 I read the prologue and the first two chappies for a big boy wheel spin, so here we go.

Pro-logue
People keep saying malamar is alright, but I knew he was evil this whole time.

It's always difficult trying to introduce pokemon in a way that isn't awkward. I made the grave mistake of having my protag bonk his head and forgor all pokemon so I get it. I understand struggling to get a weird creature across in third person. This is all to say that my first impression of the prologue is that you do eveything possible to make sure I know this character is a malamar--and, to be fair, succeed--and then the initial namedrop is not very graceful lol. I don't think you need that aside at all.

Aside from that, I almost wish this section were a bit more mysterious. You're shockingly frank with details I otherwise wouldn't know outside narration--malamar sucking at getting the orb to work and the kinda-but-not-really tiptoeing around the power therein without outright saying it, for example. We start off very casually for what I'm assuming are going to be the big bads of the fic and unfortunately it does take a little away from the menace of the finale. Mostly, I can't tell how seriously I'm supposed to take these guys. They're not really comedic, but have a level of camp that's somewhat goofy even in PMD. It's a framing issue, maybe. Leaning one way or another might help.

Enough with the negatives, I do love the disney villain camp. I don't usually dabble in outright villains and PMD fic has a tendency to either try for more even villains or just wait too damn long to start showing their hands so it's nice to relive my disney youth and watch a bunch of evil nerds cackle about their schemes. they're even discussing backup plans like normal people totally do. Overall, I am excited to see what you do with Larkspur at some point in the future. You may end up shooting yourself in the foot showing so much of him so early, depending on when we see him again, but idk that yet.

The setup is a classic. Although I'm actually surprised how few villains are involved in the human transmigration in PMD. At least in my memory, I don't recall many. It's a good way to involve the protag in the central conflict immediately. Can't avoid it if you are the conflict. It also implies a level of proactivity to the villains that is usually what makes a good villain shine. Plus, we get to imagine the inevitable confrontation. Very juicy.

Overall, the prologue is very efficient and to the point. Not to say it's too fast and, frankly, I prefer prologues this way especially since fantasy novels ruined them for me. There's a little bit of clunkiness here and there but it's manageable and counterbalanced by an otherwise engaging scenario.

Bird POV

thank god. I though this might not be a good fic but then I saw it had a murkrow and my fears were abated.

Your prose is good. You've got something easy to read but with an eye for small detail that give description life. I especially like the little things you bring up surrounding your characters. I have an immediate sense of the type of people they are and things they like and it's all revealed in a way that highlights Dahlia's guild-forwardness through her POV.

If I had a complaint, some of the more expository description from the prologue is also here and it takes away a little bit. as a specific example, Holly's introduction suffers a little bit from you staring the paragraph calling her strong and dependable and then going into details supporting that. It's the wrong order of operations imo. I'm not sure you need 'strong dependable leader' in the first place given how strong the following description is, but at the very least stick it at the end somewhere. It's something to keep an eye out for in general. A lot of your description and action is great and strong enough to not need elaboration, but it occasionally gets a little narrative tag calling it out that deflates the moment.

I will say that it's barely been a chapter and I'm already starting to get a sense of the world. Your writing is very immediate, by my initial evaluation. By the time you mention a character's name you've also really nailed somethign concrete to remember them by. It's a good process and may actually have me rebembering names for once.

omg it's a first person fic, you scoundrel. I've been tricked.

Wotter POV

I don't actually have problems switching perspectives. Its a fun thing and first person is tragically lacking in the fanfic community because we're all cowards afraid to confront our own demons.

But here we are with our human boy being birthed into this world.

I don't know if I have that much to say about this. I've read so many PMD fics back in the day that a lot of this is going through the motions and I find myself with fewer questions than I'd like. Not really your fault, I'm just ancient and decrepit.

I will take note of pokemon existing for your human characters though. We should take a tally of which writers go which way one of these days. Aso taking note that you use ferals. Interesting.

Bro is not having a good day even for the average PMD protagonist. Anxious boy doesn't even have an immediate grasp of his element and gets caught in the middle of an outlaw hunt before he can accidentaly reveal that he's a human. I like that he's a little more cautious with that information, at least, though I have a sneaking suspicion that he will not be sticking around this team for long.

Aloso everyone seems to fucking hate him lmao. Even Dahlia's kindness does not seem motivated by any actual feeling. Then Pink and Holly are immediately ehausted at the idea that they have to do work lol.

And Dahlia has the gall to tell me they're actually nice smh.

For a first chapter, this is about what I expected. I'm afraid I don't have a whole lot to say about it beyond that it's a solid entry in the PMD first chapters club. You characters are the real strength overall atm, it's a little too early to try and make predictions on the plot and the world is mostly promise atm before we get to town. That said, I'm excited to see where this goes. Personally, I'm actually a fan of first person despite never writing it.

Chapter 2

"What do you guys do besides kidnap pokemon?"

Nice one Oswald. That'll get em.

He's a bit of a wreck, isn't he? I can't say I'm surprised but my dude is not handling this well. Though in his defence, Dahlia doesn't seem to know what amnesia means if she expects him to know anything.

I'm a little torn on the ensuing exposition. I get that Oswald needs to know it, and if this were an original novel I'd maybe be a bit more tolerant of the exposition dump. But this is PMD fanfiction and most of this stuff I already know and most readers would already know. Some of it is usefull--thinking specifically of the difference between teams that explore or hunt bounties and etc... and there's some specifics around leadership that are interesting, but it's a lot of information that I either already know or would maybe like to see spread out a little more where it's more relevant.

God I love amnesia. Cowards won't admit it, but having an immediate bit of thrust for these kinds of isekai characters is very nice when we could otherwise be wandering around aimlessly. I like that Oswald acknowledges his goals here, too. It's something that should be integral to this sort of setup and yet gets occasionally forgotten as the ride gets started. Amnesiac characters feel fairly hollow without imo. Or otherwise indifferent to their own plight which is usually a dull read. Of course, the difficulty then becomes making your boy interesting with no backstory or relationships or place in this world which is a huge pain in its own right. I'm not expecting anything immediately so I will have to wait to see what Oswald becomes. Besides wotter.

Something I've noticed is that some of the issues I had with your third-person prose have gone or at least waned. I haven't noticed much clunky exposition yet, but then it's also difficult to be so explainy when everything is filtered through one person's eyes. Benefits of first person, I suppose.

Bro Oswald kinda funny tbh. "Thinking about my mortality" that's a classic. plus the kidnapping quip earlier, is this guy some kinda comedian or what? If only he weren't so anxious I bet he could put together a killer tight five.

Illiterate protagonist is very based. One of my favourite approaches to PMD protags is to fuck them up real good and take away their ability to read. It's funny every time and I'm so happy to see it.

A castle is interesting. Oswald got to it first wondering if this place had royalty, but I will echo the question. This place doesn't seem... medieval. idk log cabins are kind like that but also not really. I'm basing this mostly on the way everybody's talking and acting. Unless I'm missing obivous clues, which has me believing theres some kinda lore around why the guild is setup in a castle. Could be a remnant of human civilisation, I suppose. Or maybe they just like rocks idk. A castle does tend to be a very cool setting for anythign, so I'm not complaining about a guild being run out of it.

That gallade statue might be important. probably not though, I've never know an important gallade, nobody likes them.

Same with this quilava. don't know why he's here, bet he's not important at all.

Anyway, it's finally romance fiction lol. what a meet cute. I don't know why they didn't kiss immediately, thats a missed oportunity right there. especially when we'll never see that quilava again. oh well.

It is very funny that this happens in the middle of Oswald's self guided tour, then he just goes right back to it. You certainly aren't wasting any time. Though it's a little strange that bro just falls out of Oswald's mind right after the most awkward and obvioulsy gay meeting of all time. He has absolutely no clue.

I relly like the design of the castle. It's just as extravagant as I wanted it to be in my mind, with more than enough carpets to collapse atop your lover on. And not a hint of dissaray makes me think this isn't an ancient human settlement after all and just something someone decided to build sometime.

As Oswald makes his way to anemone with Lilac who seems suspiciously nice given everyone else hates Oswald, I will throw in my two cents that I do not trust anyone who has a throne room. The illustration accompanying anemone's introduction makes her seem very ominous. Imagine having a wall length portrait of god installed behind your throne. Shit's crazy. Also mind reading is automatic bad vibes. It might actually be good that Oswald forgot about his meet cute so quickly.

I'm not sure I trust her explanation, either. This is all too easy. Sure, you have a throne room and no guards because you just can't turn off your mind reading powers. Uh-huh.

Ancient humans confirmed. Maybe we did build the castle, after all. Please just tell me and put me out of my misery.

Oswald being silenced on his humanity is another interesting PMD trope. It's always fun to see how writers approach stuff like this--the reasoning for it. Usually there's lore implications, but I'm all about the drama so I approve of this decision either way. Especially knowing it never lasts long and Anemone does not seem like the overly forgiving type lol.

The tone of this is very interesting so far. For a PMD fic, this feels remarkeably cold. Oswald has, thus far, bounced between a bunch of characters that don't really want or like him and all the expected guides and mentors and partners have either not cared about or ignored him. Even anemone is fairly dismissive. He seems like just an extension of her job. Lilac is the most open character so far and I do not know if she's really like that or just putting up a front. Especially given her species--I've read those dex entries, I remember the vibe check pokemon memes, and Oswald is a vibe check and a half. This also extends to the the general thrust of PMD tropes. there's no triumphant moment of meeting the partner or vernturing through the first dungeon or being inducted into the guild. It's an interesting approach.

This is more of a neutral observation than a criticism. The real strength it has is that the defining moment of warmth so far is Oswald accidentally falling on a quilava who I'm certain will never show up again. It's honestly kind of clever for a romance and makes the moment stand out that much more. Even in terms of description, that feel like the most comforting, reassuring moment compared to Oswald's general confusion and anxiety. I also tend to like PMD fics that stray a little from the 'everyone is friends model'. I just find there's a realm of relationships beyond that and the petty/world-defining rivalries that run through most PMD which can be fun to explore.

Anyway, I kinda feel bad stopping before the first day is done but I am getting busier than I expected and it's better to post something a little shorter than miss out entirely. I might end up eturning to this later on my own time if I have the energy.

I alluded to it before, but I'm a little resistant to PMD starting chapters having read so many and admittedly, that's where it dragged a little bit for me. But as an overall evaluation, I liked this. It takes a little bit to get going, but once we got to the castle I started getting more invested. And it's not like PMD tropes are being used for no reason--everything you need to set up is set up in the first two chapters, things are happening like I want them to and there's a real sense of motion to the writing that makes it pleasant to read even if I'm coasting a little bit.

Also, while I memed a bit earlier, thank god you spend more than two seconds setting up a romance. You are a brave soul introducing the obvious love interest and then telling the audience to wait a little bit but it's so refreshing to see an author demand some patience from the audience, especially in romance. The worst thing that can happen is the two characters having no chemistry and no time and being expected to believe in them but I trust you won't have this issue.

but I haven't read ahead yet, so maybe you willl. oooooh spooooky~

gud fuc. I had fun. Like I said, I may want to return on my own time just because I ended at an awkward place but I may or may not review so just trust me, babe ;)

Bonus thought:

I will say that I'm so fucking stupid. I did not get that everyone was named after flowers until the third time someone told Oswald his name was cringe and I was like wtf your name is Dahlia, nerd, why is he weird? And then I realised. Oops.
Thanks for the review! This is certainly a lot more than I expected, but it's always fun to see a new reader react to these first few chapters. I respond to a few key things:

When I first started the story way, way back in 2020 I wrote Larkspur to be deliberately campy mainly because I had no idea what the rest of the story would be like. And I ended up going back and forth on exactly what kind of character he'd be. A part of me wishes I could go back and commit to one idea of the character, but I think at this point I decided to roll with it.

Anyway, you're not the first one to comment on the tropy-ness of Flowerbeds. I started writing it before I realized that everyone started like this so the main thing that really differentiates it is how mean everyone is. Can you believe that they used to be even meaner?

I like how you pointed out the love interest being a moment of warmth in the middle, though. I just intended it to be a cute thing, but I'm glad it served another purpose I didn't expect. That's always nice.

Glad you enjoyed it overall, your review was very fun to read:okgon:
 
Chapter 50 - Day 18, Part 3: Full Bloom

SnapDragon

Frog on a mission
Pronouns
He/Him
Chapter 50: Day 18, Part 3 - Full Bloom


I remembered something recently.


Actually, no…that's incorrect. I acknowledged something I've suppressed until now:


The possibility that I'm an amnesiac by choice.


Not my choice—my brain's choice. I still remember concepts, ideas, and maybe even some slang if I feel like degrading myself. However, my actual memories are locked away so tightly that even Anemone—a literal mind reader—can't access them.


I didn't do that—I wouldn't know how. But it had to have happened some way or another.


The easy answer is that something happened, and the reason as to why it happened to me is somewhere out there. But…what if it isn't? Or, rather, there is, it just isn't anything good. What if I don't want to know the answer, and my brain is making sure of that?


Being a human is one thing—forgetting why that even matters is another.


I can't shake the feeling that my goal shouldn't be to pursue my trauma, but to run from it. Past-Oswald, somehow or someway, had gone so far as to do me a favor, and I responded by ignoring his generosity.


Did I squander an opportunity to start over?


I have no idea. It sure seems like it at times. When I fall into a deep, dark pit of despair I wonder if I made the wrong choices. If, through my own efforts, I had doomed myself. But each time I return to that line of thinking, I realize that my first actual choice was to become friends with Fenn.


And if that's where I went wrong, starting over isn't an option. That choice of mine will never change, even if doing so means reversing the heat-death of the world itself.


It just sucks that it took me this long to make use of past-Oswald's generosity.


I can do better.




We chased each other through those castle gates, right into the streets. The second Fenn's paw slipped from mine—which was quick with how clammy my paw was—Fenn made it his goal to connect them once more. But he would have to work for it.


"Uh-uh, gotta catch me first!" I teased.


"H-hey!"


Even if I was clumsy on my two legs and he was cunning on his four, my recent training seemed to have paid off. I could outmaneuver that Quilava with a twist of my hip and a skipping dash past food stalls and corners of buildings. He kept up easily, but I was too slick for him.


"Oh? You wanna hold my hand?"


"I-I can!" Fenn declared. "A-and I will!"


We were giggling like school children during recess. Oleander was shouting at us to stay in sight, trying to keep up. We ignored him. The two of us kept this up through the streets and back alleys without any hint of slowing down.


I was having the time of my life.


I didn't think I would get this far. When I brought up the idea to Dahlia she gave me this look that undoubtedly said "Really? You honestly think that'll work?" I almost said no.


After all, it was stupid. I was stupid. Nothing about this plan of mine should have worked. A bouquet of flowers and a few kind words would never heal the wounds I inflicted. It was too straightforward of a resolution. I needed to do more.


But against all odds, it worked considerably better than whatever the hell I was trying to do before. Imagine that.


And seeing the sheer amount of joy on Fenn's face after every pounce for my tail, tears long since dried, made it all worth it.


We got all the way to the treeline leading to an uphill path before I came to a stop. I slowed down and rested my paws on my knees, hunched over and panting. Fenn was there by my side long before I had a chance to argue for unfairness.


He tapped me on the shoulder and said, "G-got you!" in a cheeky voice.


"Damn!" I chuckled, rubbing my shoulder. "Too slow."


Fenn graciously held out his paw for me to take. Both to bring me upright, and to declare himself the winner of this little game. He said in a light voice, "N-no, you're not. I could…b-barely keep up!"


I stood up straight and took his paw. "I'll say. You couldn't even catch my tail." As if to prove this, I twisted my torso to angle my back for him to see. Even after all this time, I couldn't properly control that thing, but that just meant Fenn would get to have more of a show, with how I bumped my hips. My tail barely did more than flop up and down, which was all I needed.


"Hmph!" Pouting, Fenn attempted to swipe at my tail with his paw, only to miss when I righted my posture just in time.


"Ha! Like I said," I teased, leaning in. "Too. Slow."


Fenn's pouting deepened. His puffed up cheeks, too, were a deeper shade of a red than they were a moment ago. "Next time…" he said.


I raised my eyebrows, smirking. "Oh yeah?"


"Y-yeah." And his cheeks puffed up more.


In response, I breathed in and puffed up my own cheeks.


I never took Fenn as one to be outdone, so of course his cheeks got even bigger in tandem.


But unfortunately for him, I had the biggest cheeks of them all. He should see how long I can hold my breath under water.


From an outside view, there was a Dewott and a Quilava staring daggers at each other in the woods as their cheeks ballooned to magnificent proportions. Something had to give…


Fenn shut his eyes- "Mmmmm- BWAH hahahaha!" -and couldn't keep it in any longer.


I followed suit, laughing out any excess air I had cooped up. "Hah…so silly," I said, leaning forward with how much I was laughing.


That only made the Quilava laugh harder. He was practically snorting. "Y-you're silly!"


"Me?" I retorted. "Silly? I don't think so."


Fenn playfully leaned into my shoulder and bumped me with his arm. "Y-yes, you are!"


"Says you, silly! Look who's talking!" I started moving again with my paw delicately gripping Fenn's. The laughing had petered out to small chuckles here and there, but it never stopped. "Come on," I said, "we're almost there."


Although he followed without question, the ensuing walk was made twice as long by Fenn having to stop just to let the giggles out every few steps. It was hard not to be infected by it.


I had a good feeling about this. There was going to be this big reveal of the flower fields and I would start by asking, "Have you been up here before?" And he would say, "Never. Not once." And he would stutter once or twice in there and it would be all cute, just like him.


Only problem: I still had my concerns. Sometime during the walk, about half way through, a disgusting pang of doubt surged up to grip at my throat. All of those happy feelings just vanished out of nowhere. I thought that I had been dreaming, and that at any moment Fenn would start drowning in a sea of black, nightmarish water, leaving me alone. I deserved that much, once.


In a sense, I still thought I did. These fun, joyful moments were not for me. I was selfish for thinking that I could ignore it all. It always came back, the pain, the sorrow. The intrusive thoughts, harsh as they were, had a point. I was deserving of a much worse fate.


So, with that in mind, I looked back for a moment, seeking confirmation of my mistake. Any second now, Fenn's own happiness would fade, and the world itself would melt to a gray paste with a horrid smell.


But no, he was fine. Those gentle red eyes gleamed like smoothed opal, while one ear twitched ever so subtly the moment he noticed me turn. A short blink of consideration followed, where he assessed the moment, perhaps wondering if he too was dreaming. And then he started giggling.


The world went soft. It smelled like fresh grass and pine needles.


They didn't last long, those baleful doubts. We both realized at the same instant that this was real. Here we were, holding paws, making a pilgrimage to somewhere special. A place where we could both be ourselves.


His lips swung about into a small smile, and I wondered if I was dreaming again. So, I squeezed his paw tighter and hoped this dream would never end.


I giggled, too. Pretty soon, we reached our destination.


Kebia Castle was a hill and a dirt path away, with orange-leaved trees like a sunset against the afternoon sky elevated in layers of speckled foliage surrounding it. Down below, cast and shadowed against the marbled stone and chiseled brick, the grass was darker. The buildings had embedded themselves in the dirt, making it their home. Roots dug deep, concocting a blossom of activity. But up here, heralding the mountains and chill winds, it all brimmed with brighter greens, fluffy whites, and lovable blues. It was quieter—less complicated. As if this Quilava and I had stepped into a completely different world.


"You know…" I leaned over and whispered into Fenn's ear as though it were a secret. "I'm nervous. We walked all of this way…and I'm nervous."


Fenn squeezed my paw in return. "W-were you not supposed to be?" he asked, genuinely curious.


"...Are you?"


He nodded.


"Well good," I breathed, a smirk arising easier than I expected, "I'm not alone, then."


To that, Fenn chuckled a little. "Y-yeah, you're not."


I pulled Fenn along, padding through the dirt on my tip-toes, each step light on my soles.


Dirt turned to grass as orange faded to an expansive blue. We crescendoed over a hill, following the path I retraced to the best of my ability. Of all the times for my memory to fail me, I was glad it remained loyal here. Otherwise it would have ruined the moment.


Because when we stepped over that hill…


"O-oh…wow," Fenn uttered his breath. I mirrored the sentiment with a contented sigh.


The smattering of mismatched dirt under our toes had become a distant thought. Pinks and whites, bright as the sun they reflected, swayed in joyous greeting. Flowers couldn't talk, of course, but I had a feeling they would cheer our names if they could.


I hadn't noticed it last time—probably because I was in such a panic—but looking now, there was a slight pink tint to the air of Fairy Fields. That blue sky, which I had seen as nothing but an extension of my own perceived reality, shimmered a late sunset purple in combination with the slight pink.


And then it didn't, as my eyes adjusted to the vista ahead of me, and a playful rosy scent tickled my nose. My whiskers tingled like a strung violin, but otherwise gave me peace. The world was in its natural state, just as it ever was.


"I never told you…where I got here from, huh?" I asked, my eyes lingering on the flowers.


I could see Fenn turn to me out of the corner of my eye somewhat abruptly, as if the question caught him off guard. He said, "You…did, actually. I-I thought…" then stopped himself.


Oh, I did? My tail fidgeted behind me. I guess I forgot.


"…Right, I mentioned some flower fields outside of Kebia," I noted. "Never specified which ones, though."


A beat, then Fenn said, "Th-th-there aren't any other…" before stopping himself again. I wouldn't be surprised if he was misremembering, too.


I looked at him and feigned some semblance of confidence. There was still a chance to salvage this—I had a hunch.


"Hold on. Remember, there are some flowers on the way to your place?" That was where the lavender came from, after all.


"Well…yeah," Fenn mumbled before gesturing to the flowers with the book he still had with him. "I-I just assumed you meant here, even if…I-I've never seen it. It's…" His eyes, wide with astonishment, sparkled in the sunlight. "...Very n-nice…"


If a bouquet didn't work, then a whole field of flowers certainly did.


"And now you can. Come on," I said, failing to hide the giddiness in my voice. "I want to show you the best part."


Into the flowers we went, with me taking the first step back into my proverbial birthplace. Fenn followed without a second thought.


Flower pedals nipped and tickled our fur as we waded through. The spaces of dirt in between were our stepping stones of a trickling garden stream. I could feel myself waver in the wind as we approached the cliff, green grass splitting a path for us and us alone. My heart pumped fast in my fingertips. Behind the curvature of the cliff and the virility of the foliage, the sight was only just now apparent.


I didn't need to tell Fenn to stop. Both he and I knew this was the place.


Directly ahead of us was the castle and the surrounding town in all of its glory. Just earlier today, I stood near the top of that castle, marveling at the sweeping plains and snaking roads of the surrounding land. Every excursion I had ever taken had been on full display, viewable from a single location—my whole life a near complete puzzle. And now I was here, viewing everything from the trees to the ramparts to the spires all at once.


Fenn's shoulders relaxed as he whispered, his voice airy, "Y-you…woke up here? I-in the middle of the field?"


"It's…somewhere around here," I said, motioning to a patch of grass ahead of us. I had just as good a view of the castle then as I did now.


It was a nice ambience, but it was also a reminder of my prison. In an hour's time, maybe less, I'd have to head back and return to my neat little box. How long had it been already? Five minutes? Ten minutes? Was Oleander just over the hill or directly behind us?


I didn't want to think about it.


I looked at Fenn. A second or two later, he looked at me.


In my mind's eye, I saw it. There were sandcastles meticulously constructed on a beach in space, built from buckets of time wasted and mistakes made. The sand was dry and firm like stone. The buckets were full. New additions were being made to the castles constantly, without fail or regard for time to rest. And then all of a sudden, a glistening, gigantic wave pushed seawater far into the shore, and those sandcastles melted into a mere lump. The buckets toppled and flowed out to sea, never to be seen again.


Sand erodes over a period of thousands of years, yet it clings to itself all the same. Sand is still sand, and enough sand makes a beach.


The start of something new.


Fenn tilted his head at me. "W-what? You're…staring at me a-a lot."


Oh whoops.


I chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry. It's hard not to."


He scoffed, the tips of his ears turning red. "Um…" Fenn's gaze drifted away towards the leaves on the wind, to the grass at his feet, before resting on his paw in mine. His grip only tightened, yet his ears had since fallen flat against his head, making him look smaller than he really was. He said, "H-hey, did you take Cosmo to daycare this morning?"


I blinked. So much was on my mind today and Cosmo was probably one of the last. I was pretty sure I dropped him off. Otherwise I would have been freaking out.


"Of course," I said. Cool as an ice cube.


Fenn's ears flicked upwards about half-way. "O-okay, good…just wanted t-to make sure. It's…i-it's been on my mind…"


I almost asked, is that all that's on your mind? But I didn't, and I wished that I did. At some point I'd have to slow down with the flirting and actually acknowledge what we were here for.


I knew that no matter what I said here, Anemone's glare would pierce through my skull and crush me into a fine powder the next time we talked. That was not going to change. It was Fenn who would, in one way or another. Simply noticing a slight change in his demeanor was enough to make my heart sink into my stomach. I would need to be careful.


"Mhm," I mumbled. Unconsciously I scratched at a scalchop on my hip, carving out new grooves for my fingers. Little flakes trickled onto my claws. The rough texture made goosebumps rise from under my fur. "So…"


"S-so…"


"Do you want to sit down?" I asked.


Fenn opened his mouth to speak, only to stop before any words left him. Mainly because I thought quickly and interrupted him.


"It's not that hard- the ground, I mean! I can confirm that." The grin I gave him must have looked so forced. Even if I did mean it, the blush rising from my cheeks to my neck strangled me under my fur.


Fenn's mouth briefly remained open as if the words were still in transit to his vocal cords. His eyes glanced away for a smidgen of a second. Then after he processed my words, he spoke.


"...Sure."


So we did.


He sat beside me, taking extra care to not crush any flowers beneath him. He went so far as to move some out of the way with his paw. Which was something I didn't even consider until I was sat beside him. I glanced down to find a collage of pink and white sticking out from under my legs. I ignored it, despite my blush definitely strangling me by that point.


"See?" I said, a small stammer accompanying my voice. "Not hard at all."


Fenn chuckled so abruptly that he squeaked. "Heh…I-I guess so."


Now…


My tail splayed out behind me, paws on my knees, I breathed in slowly. More of that playful rosiness tickled my nostrils. I felt a pinch, only to witness my fur being tugged at and the slightest bit of skin turning white as my claws dug into the skin. I took another deep breath, calming myself.


All I could hear was the wind dancing with everything in sight. It flirted with the grass, courted the flowers, and kissed the trees with its gentle caress. Everything was in perfect harmony. The moment was right.


I looked over to find Fenn tracing his finger over the cover of his book, silent and uneasy. Tiny embers sizzled on his forehead—igniting and dying over and over again like twinkling stars. There was a thoughtfulness to his expression, like there were conversation topics tingling on the tip of his tongue.


After a bit more silence between us, I decided that I would have to start us off. I said, "Hey Fenn-"


"I-I was thinking-"


We both spoke at the same time. We both flinched.


"O-oh, I'm sorry-"


"No, it's fine. You can-"


"No! Y-you should-"


We stared at each other, our eyes wide. Our troubled breathing accompanied the wind swaying the flowers. I didn't know where to look, Fenn had a hard time keeping still. Back to where we started.


Earlier, this kind of silence was just a byproduct of the tension. Now, though, it veered off in the complete opposite direction: straight to awkwardness.


Against my better judgment, I thought of Anemone again. If she were here, she would just use her mind reading, like always. That sounded really useful right about now. Above all else, I wanted to take Fenn's thoughts and pour them straight into my own head, just so I'd know where to take this conversation.


But maybe not knowing wasn't such a bad thing. Anemone lived in a room at the top of a castle, unhappy and alone. And she didn't matter right now.


No more thinking. It was time to talk. Which meant…


I guess I could…ease him into it…?


"Well," I said indignantly, crossing my arms, "one of us has to go first."


Fenn placed his book aside. With a sheepish smile, he said, "U-um…you can go. Y-y-you started talking first…after all."


He sounded hesitant. Or maybe that was just him stuttering slightly more than usual. Or maybe I was just hearing things. Or maybe-


…Didn't I just say that not knowing isn't a bad thing?


I unfolded my arms, leaving them limp in my lap. My tiny, Dewott fangs nipped at my lip, threatening to pierce skin. Hoarsely, I said: "Alright, do you remember when we first met?"


Fenn looked to the side briefly. "Y-you mean when you bumped into me in the town square?"


"Ye- no, not that one. After that."


"The…cafeteria?"


I nodded. "Yeah, that. I offered to get you food and we talked."


"I-it was more like you…insisted on it…" Fenn mumbled.


Unfortunately. That was one more thing I would have done differently if I could. "I was kinda desperate," I admitted. "Anemone told me that I'd have to form a team in a day or she'd do it for me."


"Oh yeah…" Fenn's flame vents sparked. "Th-that was so unfair!"


Knowing what I do now, it was surprisingly generous of her. But that didn't change the fact that it made Fenn and I's first proper meeting a complete mess. I would have preferred not to coerce my future partner to like me through favors, thanks.


I shrugged. "It led to us meeting, right? Sorta."


Fenn smiled slightly at that. "It did. R-remember when you brought me Pecha berries even th-though you didn't mean to?"


"Ugh," I groaned, rubbing the bridge of my nose, "don't remind me."


"I-it worked out, though."
"I know! Probably would have worked out better for me if it didn't, though."


Fenn's giggling helped to ease the tension in my shoulders, if only a little bit. "I was confused a-at the time…but now I just find it funny. You acted so weird. B-but…where are you going with this, Oswald?" That question brought the tension right back.


Okay, here goes…


I grasped my scalchop fully, gripping the handle for dear life. With how fast my heart was beating, my body must have reacted as though I were in danger. In a sense, I was. Danger of a stress-induced heart attack.


I asked, "Don't you think it's also weird that I didn't know what a Pecha berry looks like?"


Fenn gave me an odd look. "O-Oswald, you said you have amnesia."


"I do."


Now Fenn just looked confused. "D-did that…change?"


I shook my head. "No, nothing's changed."


Before, I would have considered that a problem. Now, though, not really.


"I'm just saying," I continued, "I don't remember Pecha berries because I'm pretty sure I never knew about them at all."


Fenn blinked. "W-what?"


A fierce chill rolled down my spine. My wrist was starting to hurt.


"Actually, before that," I said, pointing at a canopy of trees in the distance, "do you remember heading into Figy Forest?"


Fenn looked over his shoulder, then looked back at me. His expression didn't look any less troubled. "W-well, yeah," he muttered. "I still don't know why my s-sister went in there, but…y-yeah."


"I don't either. Probably doesn't even matter. That's where I told you that I have amnesia, though, right?"


"A-after you almost died..."


"After I almost-" I shot him a playful glare. "Hey, it's not my fault you didn't warn me."


Fenn said impishly, "I-I didn't think it would be a problem. You're e-evolved, so…I assumed you could handle yourself."


Oh god, here comes the chill again.


This time I made an active effort to ignore it, hiding my discomfort with a smirk. "Well I can't because I never evolved," I said.


"...Y-yes, you did," Fenn retorted, eyes squinting at me as though I was crazy. "How else…h-how else is a Dewott supposed to be…made?"


I shrugged my shoulders flippantly. "I don't know. What do Pecha berries look like? How are Dewotts made? What the hell is a Mystery Dungeon? I don't know."


Any trace of a smile ran away from Fenn's face as he said, "...O-Oswald, what are you trying to say? I…I-I don't get it."


Okay…


This is it. I'm gonna tell him.



I took a long, deep breath. The extra air made my head spin—that or I was close to passing out already.


Now was the time. I was going to tell Fenn that I'm a human.


He might never look at me the same. Hell, he might even see me as some kind of freak.


But I had to do it. I promised myself I would. Fenn deserved to know everything.


Another deep breath…here goes. I opened my mouth to speak-


"Ow!"


I winced, grimacing harshly. Pain radiated within my mouth.


"O-oh!" Fenn exclaimed. "Are you okay?"


"Yeah…bit my tongue."


That was not a lie. I genuinely did bite my tongue trying to talk, and now I was genuinely rubbing the sore spot on my cheek. It was still hurting for moments after. Ugh.


"Oh…th-that's not good," Fenn mused.


To add on top of everything else, my whole body landed in a limbo between blisteringly hot and frighteningly cold. The pink mist in the air suddenly became apparent, filling my senses with stifling rosiness, throwing in a splitting headache for good measure.


All the while, a single phrase mashed away at my skull: You can still back out of this. You can still back out of this. You can still back out of this.


I wondered if that tongue-bite was a blessing. Was telling him all of this the smart thing to do? If I wasn't careful, could this be the final step towards the absolute destruction of our relationship? Anemone told me not to do this for a reason, after all.


Who knows? My initial assumption could be right: pokemon here really do hate humans. Could be run out of town, or even paraded with my fur shaved off, naked for the whole town to see.


What if Fenn spat in my face and called me a monster, an abomination, and worst of all a filthy liar? Just the thought of that…I couldn't bear it. I could barely breathe.


And what would Anemone do to me? Would she contort my already broken limbs into a box two sizes too small for my body and berate me every single day for the rest of my pitiful existence?


I didn't want to be a failure, I just wanted to tell Fenn the truth. Could I even be blamed for that?


I told myself on that balcony of Kebia Castle that I was going to end this. No more lies. No more secrets. No more depending on changes that wouldn't come.


I was a human, but I was also a pokemon. I was both. At the same time, I loved another pokemon. I loved Fenn.


"O-Oswald?" Fenn said quietly, worry seeping into his voice. "Are you okay?"


I opened my eyes and saw him. Even the way he looked at me now, his fur so smooth and shiny, his eyes so beautiful and bright. They tugged at my taut heartstrings. There was concern there, and curiosity. But also comfort, and safety. He was relaxed, despite the conversation. He wanted to be here with me.


And maybe he wouldn't love me back, I don't know. I hadn't considered the possibility until now. I had been so afraid of taking a step forward, but I was also afraid of taking two steps back. If I never told Fenn the truth, though, I'd never move at all.


Was I being too emotional? Too irrational? Maybe.


But I made my choice: he needed to know. I had to trust him.


"I'm fine," I responded after a moment. "I'm…fine."


Breathe in…


Breathe out.


The words fell out of my mouth and out of my grasp.


"Fenn, I'm…uh…was…a human."


Fenn stared at me blankly. "...W-what?"


"I'm human," I repeated. I'm human. I'm human. I'm human.


A weight had been lifted from my shoulders, only for that weight to be replaced. Finally, I said it. But also…shit, I said it.


Fwoosh! Fenn's flame vents ignited. Many feelings crossed his face at once right then. At first he was confused, then bewildered, possibly angry, before averaging back around to being dumbfounded. He blinked some more, every bit of anger slowly leaving him. Along with it went his flames—dying out to a mere smolder.


He said, much quieter this time, "...Oh. S-so this is a joke."


Based on how hard my heart was pounding against my chest, I was operating on a stimulus akin to adrenaline. Nothing about this felt real. I gave my response before I understood what Fenn was even saying. "Yeah, I'm…what?"


Of all things, Fenn laughed. He laughed hard. "I-I get it now!" he beamed. "You're softening me up f-for the reveal! Ah…I-I feel so stupid for not…c-catching on sooner."


I was so taken aback that I had no idea how to respond. Yes, I knew it would be hard to believe. Fenn was probably conditioned to me making things up, too. But this time…I wasn't joking.


This was a mistake.


Every bit of pent up energy was sucked right out of my body, leaving me deflated, my whiskers like wet noodles. All I could do was frown.


Fenn slowly came to notice it. His full-on laughter turned into soft chuckles before dying out entirely.


Now neither of us were laughing. And Fenn's flame vents were puffing out into sporadic infernos atop his head. His eyes were as wide as the sun.


"O-Oswald…" he said, "i-it is a joke…right?"


"...It's not," I muttered, my shoulders lowering as if to make myself smaller. "I'm serious."


Fenn stared at me, the fur on his body haggard as it bristled. One of his paws pressed into the ground as he leaned back, possibly priming himself to rise. Only, he never did. Fenn remained rigid and alert, and moved very little.


His normally tender voice was strained. "Is…i-is that…what you couldn't tell me?" It sounded like he was in complete disbelief. Not just over my words, but his own as well.


"...Yeah." I looked down at my knees, away from his gaze.


"Th-the…a-at the beach…?"


I nodded somberly. "I'm from somewhere else. I don't know…where. It's not Pamtre or…whatever this world is called. Just…somewhere that isn't here."


"H-how?"


I shrugged my shoulders up high. "I don't know."


"..." Fenn didn't move.


And neither did I. My claws had gone limp. My tail was flat behind me. My back was aching. I knew I should have corrected all of this—sit up straight, wet my dry lips. But I lacked the motivation to do any of that.


What else was there to say? Either he believed me or he didn't.


But there, I did it. It was done and I wasn't about to take it back. I told the truth and now I wouldn't have to think about it for every minute of my waking life.


I tried to breathe in, only to breathe out faster than I anticipated. And then I did it again. And again. I looked down at my paws.


…Am I shaking? Why am I shaking?


My paws were trembling like crazy. It was getting worse for every second of silence. I suddenly became conscious of a ringing in my ears, a heat so overwhelming that it was baking me alive, and a tension that was slowly killing me.


All the while, Fenn looked to be split in two: a flame stoked and extinguished. I could practically see the Klinks turning in his head. He was processing it slowly, carefully. Either that or it was an absolute whirlwind in his mind. His friend just unveiled that he was a being from out of this world—I didn't blame him. Comprehending it was just one step.


Although, I couldn't shake the feeling that he was debating on whether or not to run or report me. That had to be the case.


I clenched my fists and gritted my chattering teeth. Oh god, was that it? Did he hate me for lying to him? Did he hate humans? Did he hate me? Did he-


"U-um…do…do you really talk through your fingertips?"


…I don't know what I was expecting but it wasn't that.


Fenn was in fact looking at me—his full focus independent of the rampaging storm of thoughts. The alarm in his eyes had shifted. It was as though the fear morphed from being directed at me and more towards something behind me. If we were in a public place, I might have turned around.


I answered, hesitantly, "No…? We- humans talk through their mouths."


"All of them?"


"...Yeah."


"O-oh."


Fenn scratched at his raised shoulder awkwardly.


I waited for Fenn to say more, but nothing came. Gradually, the ringing in my ears gave way to the whipping winds of the fields. My fur cooled, freezing the tension in the air. It remained frozen as though this revelation had gone on a sudden break.


I had to ask, "Where did you hear that?"


"A book…" Fenn muttered.


"A book?" I repeated, incredulous.


He sputtered, frustration springing to life just like his flame vents. "W-well how am I supposed to know? I-I-I've never even met a human…"


Just as quickly, the frustration was gone. His ears lowered, as did his posture. Fenn said, "...Until n-now."


My ears perked up. Did I hear that right? Immediately, that frozen tension fell to the dirt like a rock, completely inert. "So…you believe me?" I asked hopefully.


Fenn looked away. "I-it makes a lot of sense. In retrospect."


That earned a smile out of me. Phew! I chuckled nervously. "I made it pretty obvious, didn't I? Not…that I ever intended to. It just sort of happened."


But Fenn, who didn't pick up on the irony, was just as troubled as he was before. He uttered, gripping his arm tightly, "O-Oswald, you lied to me."


And there went the smile.


Oh…oh no. No no no no…! I tried to explain, but the words came out all jumbled: "Fenn, no I…I mean, I did, but…look I…it's not that simple."


"Why?" Fenn asked. It wasn't clear to me what he was referring to. "Th-the story you gave me, Anemone, Colbur Village, th-that bar we went to…" He shook his head ashamedly. "I-I just…ignored it. I know y-y-you had your reasons…"
I tried to speak. "Fenn, I…" But quickly thereafter, I sincerely wished I had bitten my own tongue off. I didn't know what to say. My heart was close to giving out.


I knew this would happen. Maybe he didn't care about the whole human thing, but the lie- the lie! He put his whole trust in me, even pushing his own concerns aside. And this is how I repaid him…


How can I ever earn back his trust?


Fenn's eyes shot wide open. He growled through furious, gritted teeth, "S-so…so stupid! I'm an idiot! I-I'm a stupid idiot!"


Wait, no!


"Fenn, stop!" I begged. "You're not an idiot; all of this on me!" There was a pervasive wariness to my voice that caught me off guard. The last thing I wanted was for Fenn to sink into his own pit of despair. I might not regain his trust, but I didn't care. I wanted him to be happy.


Seeing Fenn's eyes grow misty and wet hurt more than any stab wound or psychic abuse I had ever endured. I caused this, and it made me sick.


Fenn staggered out, his ears fallen limp against his head, "I-it's…it's all wrong. Every time…e-e-every time I have to figure it out on my own…"


"Fenn…"


He looked at me. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. "I'm tired, Oswald…" Fenn whimpered. "J-just…tell me. Why?"


Why?


I don't know why I obsessed over my past as a human when I wasn't one anymore. It made no sense to me. When we were in Micle half a week ago I briefly came to the conclusion that if anyone outside of the castle would know anything about my experiences—not my predicament—they would be amongst the crowd of human-revering pokemon as far away from the castle as possible. They were as close as I could get to the wider world at large.


But no. I didn't ask them about any of my experiences because that wasn't what I was there for. I was following someone who had put my face on a bullseye and threw darts at me, trying to pin me down. I wasn't thinking for myself—I was letting someone else think for me. Someone who treated me like a pawn, and frankly, hated my guts.


And now look where it left me. Did I even want to learn the truth? Or was I just trying to find excuses for my cowardice?


I didn't know. But I did know, at that very moment, that I wanted to tell Fenn everything.


I was Oswald. And I had decided that Oswald was not a coward.


I said, "The truth is…most, if not all of what I said about my past was true. But I…left out some details."


"W-what do you mean?" Fenn asked weakly, stifling an even harsher stutter.


"After we got back from the beach you told me that you thought I was joking there, too." I wiggled my hands exaggeratedly and spoke like an alien. "I came from another world! Ooooh!"


I groaned, letting my arms drop. "But the thing is, I don't blame you for thinking that. Because like, I wasn't being entirely genuine? If anything I was just saying something to make myself feel better. I'd come up with a half-lie and then I could feel better about every full-lie I've ever made. It's full-proof!"


My voice cracked.


I said, "And it's fucking terrible, I know. And I'm sorry. I should've just told you everything from the beginning."


I didn't know what to make of Fenn's expression: his eyes unblinking while his lips fell ajar, as his neck arched back and away from me. Stiff and stunned. Regardless, he didn't say anything in response. I had to finish what I started.


"Here's the truth…I couldn't tell you everything because I was afraid that I'd get killed. I've already had my life and limbs threatened by the queen and her lackeys. But that wasn't supposed to be a problem because Anemone was going to figure it all out for me."


I shook my head. My exasperation turned to fuming anger. "But it turns out that wasn't on her agenda anyway! She despises me and just wants me to suffer. Every step I take makes it worse-" I flicked my wrist back towards the direction we arrived in, "-and now I have to plead with my nanny for time outside." I let my arm fall back to my side.


"O-Oswald-"


"I'm not done!" I snapped, slamming my fist into the dirt. "It's so fucking unfair! Everyone acts like they know what's best for me when they don't know anything about what I'm going through! Except they do! They all know! But they just ignore it because it's more convenient for them! And to top it all off-" I looked at Fenn, his visage hard to make out through my own tears, "-I can't even tell you because they don't want me to. I don't get to say who knows. I just have to follow along."


I sniffled. "But I don't want to anymore. I'm Oswald. I get to make my own choices. Me! Not them!"


I could barely hold it in anymore. Shaking turned to dry heaves turned to outright sobbing. Every bit of pent up misery poured out of me, painting the flowers with salty tears. Through my heavy breathing, I was able to squeeze out just a bit more: "So there…that's why I lied. I'm…sorry…"


I lost it right then—the capability to keep it in. I hugged myself, digging my claws into my arms, trying to keep my body from convulsing, and failing. If my revelation on the balcony of Kebia Castle was acceptance, this was the grief that came with it.


I closed my eyes to block it all out, but the pain wouldn't subside. Something broke. A part of me just died. Not the pokemon part or even the human part. My pride, composure, and self-respect were utterly shredded. All that was left was weakness. Pitiful, awful weakness.


This was what it took to fully break me. Anemone could never do this; she didn't know me, this went deeper than just my thoughts.


Fenn cared for me. And I cared for him. But what did it matter if I was just a pathetic freak who bottled it all up until the world was a kaleidoscope of my own misdeeds?


At least he knew now. At least he could hate me for a reason. No one else could control that for me.


I just wished it didn't hurt so much…


"...fo…gi…ou"


What was that? Fenn?


I looked up at the Quilava. Through my tears, I saw his face. He was crying, too, the fur on his cheeks stained wet. But why?


I said, "What?"


Graciously, he repeated himself. "I-I…I forgive you."


Saying that something inside me was mended implied that I returned to a previous state. In this instance, it was more accurate to say that something else broke instead. A darker, thicker thing. That was how we as living beings worked, when you get down to it: we break down, reshape, then do it all over again.


Those three words loosened my claws from my arms, almost halting my sobs entirely. I stared, astonished.


"You…you do?" I asked, my voice barely louder than a whisper.


Fenn nodded. "I-I'm really sorry…Oswald. I was just…r-reminded of something else when you…told me the t-truth that I…I-I-I…" He shut his eyes to stifle sobs of his own. It looked like it would overtake him.


But Fenn was stronger than that. I knew he could do it.


When he opened his eyes, there was a brief moment where I wondered if the pokemon I was talking to was still Fenn. Hatred flared like a wildfire as Fenn glared at nothing, like he was thinking of something deeply personal.


Fenn—the real Fenn, the one I knew—returned when his gaze was leveled at me. There was no hatred there—not anymore. He said, "I-I've been…unfair to you. I worried s-so much about what you wouldn't tell me…w-when I have my own secrets, too."


That wasn't fair. "Fenn…"


I tried to say something, tell him that he didn't have to do this, but he cut me off quickly, vehemently.


"L-let me speak," Fenn sniffled. "I know I…suck at it, b-but I need to."


My paws were numb by the time they fell back into my lap. I so desperately wanted to lay down to let my body rest, let the beating of my heart slow. I wanted to lay down with him. But that would come after. Fenn wanted to speak sitting up, so I would let him.


He said, "I-I'm…I'm a…no…" Fenn sighed. "N-no, I…I made a mistake. I-I-I said I was f-fine when I'm not."


"...I did that, too," I uttered quietly. Smaller lies, but still lies.


Fenn looked at me in understanding. "I-I know you did. I forgive you for that, t-too." He turned his gaze back to the vista ahead of him, swallowing hard. "B-but this is different. I went home, t-tried to talk to my dad…a-and I couldn't do it, Oswald. I-I just couldn't…"


Oh no…


I suspected that was the case. As much as I wanted to believe that he was okay, something was clearly eating at him.


I didn't press him on it. Just like he never pressed me on my obvious lies.


Fenn said, "I told y-you-" he choked up, taking a second to catch himself, "-I-I told you that I was f-fine. I didn't…want to burden you, and I-I told myself that I needed time to think…"


"Me too," I spoke up hoarsely. "I thought a lot. But I came back to you in the end, though."


His eyes trailing back to mine as if tethered by a thread, Fenn nodded. "I-it hurt, being away for so long…"


My voice was hardly but a whistle in the wind. "...I thought about you every minute of the day, Fenn. You're all I care about."


Every blink was a new tear. Fenn weeped, "O-Oswald, I…y-you're not a bad pokemon, Oswald. E-even if…Even if you…y-you are a human…that's okay."


Pokemon…he called me a pokemon…


I sniffled. "I want- I want to do right by you, Fenn. No more lies, no more…no more. No more."


Fenn opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The tears had become a waterfall.


There were still things to say. So, so many.


I remembered I had arms at that moment. Warmth and soft fur, too. I let them speak for me.


I leaned into Fenn and pulled him into a deep hug. My chin rested on his shoulder, and his chin rested on mine. Our tears soaked through our fur and down into the dirt.


When we embraced, it started like any of our other hugs. Fur against fur, comforting warmth, and a tenderness that far surpassed any other gesture, like hand holding. Though with this hug, I could feel myself sinking, melting into him. Becoming one. Completely free. There was no inclination to move away at any set time. His arms tracing my shoulders, my back, my arms—like a soft blanket wrapping me up in the morning. We didn't have to get up right away. We could rest.


I held him tight, my fingers playing little rhythmic tunes on the back of his neck. Under the scarf, feeling that frazzled, tousled patch of fur underneath. I followed the path it left, riding the ridges of his collar bone, down to his chest. My paw laid flat as I searched for a thump, thump, thump…letting out a shaky sigh when it quickened to the touch.


My mind was racing, overloaded to the absolute brim with joy—beautiful, agonizing joy. Was this what it felt like to be free? To be honest? It made me feel…whole.


Why didn't I open up sooner? I felt so fantastic. I wanted to hang onto this feeling forever, hold it in my hands and cherish it like a treasured photograph. Something to keep me motivated whenever I was down, and to remind me of the pokemon who made it all possible: Fenn.


With so many thoughts surging at paces I could hardly follow, my body acted on its own, pursuing its great desire. Slowly, I pulled back.


We were apart, but we were still inches from each other's faces. Tears had yet to dry. My paw was still resting on his chest. There was a stifling tension between us, our breaths mingling.


Was it so wrong to love a pokemon? Sure, they looked different, had different abilities and customs. Yet...they were still like us humans. Meat still tasted like meat, after all. Fenn and I could feel the same emotions. Fear, joy, anger, silliness, despair, relief…


I knew that for certain when I gazed upon this Quilava.


His soft fur was gilded in sunlight, making a glowing zigzag around his tufts. A shadow eclipsed half of his body, and through that shade I could see his eyes—a pair of ruby-colored embers.


My body, once again, pursued its greatest desire. The words came to me, as clear as the sunrise. I spoke.


"I love you."


Fenn's eyes widened. His ears rose just a little bit, yearning to hear me better. "Y-you…you do?" he whispered.


"Yes," I whispered back. "I love you, Fenn."


The thumping of his heart quickened. At the same time, his paw moved, perhaps searching for his own arm. But he found mine instead, resting his paw on my wrist and squeezing. The last tear fell louder than the rest.


"Y-y-you…you…mean that?" he asked. Bewildered as he was, there was longing in his voice. A higher pitch.


My confirmation couldn't have come quicker if I tried. I moved my paw from his chest to his fingers, locking his digits with mine.


I said, my voice breaking, "I've wanted to tell you for so long. But I…I didn't know if you could ever love a…human like me back."


A couple stray sparks spritzed out of Fenn's forehead and landed between us, tickling our paws. "O-Oswald…"


For once in my life I had something to cling on to: hope. Fenn loved me, too, and I wanted to believe that was true. Yet the raging whirlpool of thoughts within my mind fought valiantly against this hope, pushing my insecurity to the top.


"You don't…have to love me back, Fenn," I admitted. "You're just…amazing. You've done so much for me, and you're so strong and cute and…" I sighed deeply, looking down. "I just wanted you to know that. Since we're being honest and all…"


Maybe I should've just admitted my feelings and left it at that. This wasn't about me, anyway. I was happy enough to hug him close one last time.


I just…is it so wrong to put myself first for once? I wondered internally.


"Oswald?" said Fenn.


Maybe it was cowardly of me to avert my gaze. If I was going to tell him how I felt, I should do it while looking him in the eye. I lifted my head up right then, if only to abide by his request. I could make it up to him.


But what I saw made my heart soar.


Fenn was smiling kindly. His flame vents were billowing small infernos, almost imperceptible in this light. He said, "P-please don't say that. You're…making me blush…"


I told him, because he deserved to hear it: "I mean it. Any pokemon would be lucky to have you as their partner."


"O-Oswald!" he blurted out, his tone surprisingly playful. "Stop it!"


I was confused. "Stop what?"


"S-stop…stop saying that like it's not possible!"


"...What do you mean?"


Normally, I wasn't too bad at picking these things up. But that whirlwind had yet to pass. I was so focused on myself—again—that I forgot to consider the best possible scenario.


Fenn said, "What I-I mean…is…I-I-I love you, too."


I blinked, my whiskers going stiff. My heart beat faster, an unsteady rhythm. Either the wind stopped or my entire world froze in place. One way or another, it was as though an entire beach's worth of sand castles were washed away, leaving only a barren canvas remaining.


"Really?"


Fenn's own confirmation mirrored mine. His smile reached his eyes. "H-how could I not? You're so…f-funny, a-and I think you're really handsome. U-um…" His blush was barely noticeable under his fur.


Which- to be fair, my cheeks were also as red as cherries. Mostly out of pure shock because…wow.


Wow.


Holy shit.


A sudden noise played out from behind, startling me. Quickly, I glanced over my shoulder. I immediately realized that what made that sound was my own tail, batting at the dirt in a staggered pattern completely against my will.


"...Since when?" I asked.


Fenn shrugged. "I-I don't know…a while, heh."


But how?


I thought back to when we first met, how we started so distant and shy around each other. That changed so quickly, didn't it? Our walls never truly fell, but they definitely softened and cracked. At some point after that, the way I looked at this Quilava was altered. I started climbing that wall without thinking, pining to see what was on the other side.


It should have occurred to me that Fenn was climbing that wall, too. I should have torn it down for him.


I couldn't help but laugh. I'm such an idiot, I thought.


"Are you…?" I started hesitantly. "But what about me being a human?"


Fenn's flames grew, fighting that shadow on his face and coming out victorious. "Y-you look like a pokemon t-to me," he said. "As long as y-you're still Oswald…"


I balked. I was reminded of when we visited that beach. After such a bad day, the two of us confided in each other as we watched the waves. The bubbles sparkled in the setting sun, the ocean yawned on the horizon. Fenn had asked me a question: what kind of pokemon did I like?


I had said that it made no difference to me. But that wasn't true. It did make a difference. Fenn just happened to check all of those boxes anyway. I would love him if he was a Slakoth, or a Klefki, or a Magneton. Anything—I didn't care.


Why wouldn't Fenn extend the same generosity to me? Because I wasn't worth it?


Hell, maybe I still wasn't. But who cares? This was what I wanted.


And I wanted to let him know that I wanted it.


"I am," I said. "I'll always be Oswald." I rose to my feet, my paw still grasping Fenn's. "And as Oswald…I want to ask you something."


While Fenn might not have been hesitant to stand with me, his flames were snuffed out, leaving him in the state I knew him best for. He wasn't outwardly worried or nervous, but he was a bit fidgety, as though he wanted to desperately ask something of me, too. He ended up muttering, "A-anything. Go ahead."


I looked around myself for a moment, scanning the ground at my feet, looking for flowers. It had to be perfect—which was difficult without any lavender on hand. I dropped them all either. Would he like pink or white more? Pink was closer to purple, I supposed.


Should I even worry about presentation at this point? I thought. I don't want to screw this up…


There. A decent pink flower behind me. I took a step back and reached down to pluck it between my fingertips. It was fine, probably the most adequate shade of pink in the whole field. Washed out, a bit old. Soon to be dead now that I plucked it. Maybe I could pick another one.


Was I overthinking this? Oh god, what if I misread the situation entirely? We loved each other, sure, but did that mean he was ready to start something serious?


Fenn was standing across from me, waiting patiently for me to speak, his ears perked and ready to listen. When I met his gaze, he smiled.


My heart leaped like a Lopunny. It was the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. Even his fire couldn't match the brightness of it.


I wanted this. He had to have wanted it, too. I just had to make sure.


Here we go. I took a deep breath and said, "So, Fenn-"


"W-wait!" Fenn cut me off, holding up both paws.


I jumped. "What- what is it?"


He whined, moving his right arm to his side to grip it with the other, "I-I wanted to do it…" A bright blush was starting to form under his fur.


I guess that answered that question. All of my trepidation was replaced with raw anticipation. My heart was still pumping, but now out of endearment instead of fear. "Aw, Fenn," I chuckled, holding out the flower. "Okay…if you want."


"Um…" Fenn started rubbing his arm. "N-no, I changed my mind. You do it."


"Oh. Nervous?"


"Mhm."


"Me too. But…" I cleared my throat. "No worries. Alright…"


Flower in hand, I held it out and offered it to Fenn as a gift. I looked him in the eyes, only to avert my gaze immediately. My cheeks started burning the instant I saw that incandescent sparkle. The stellar shimmer reserved for pure luxury.


I felt like a lovestruck teenager with no concept of restraint or emotional clarity. My other paw, the one not holding the flower, reached behind my head without any input from me. My neck was itching, my arms were itching…everything was itching.


"Fenn," I said, slowly extending the flower forward, "will you…



bog smaller smaller.png


"...be my boyfriend?"


I turned my head just in time to see Fenn's smile growing, tears starting to form in the corner of his eyes. He nodded his head. Once. Twice. Many, many times. None of which was enough to stop himself from dashing forward and throwing his arms around me.


"Oof!" I uttered in reaction. I was nearly thrown to the ground with the force of his hug. I dropped the flower; I didn't need it anymore. I wrapped my arms around the Quilava tightly, pushing my cheek into his, my whiskers playfully poking at his chin.


"Yes!" he whispered. "Y-yes! Oswald!"


I nuzzled him, my Dewott instincts seemingly winning over in the end. I wanted to feel his fur against mine. Breathe him in. Smell like him. "Oh Fenn…" I uttered. "I'm so happy…"


Our fingers danced on each other's backs as we rocked in place. I savored the warmth of his flame vents under my chin, my nose in his fur.


And then it began to click. Our rocking slowed.


From there, we searched deeper, closer. Dug into each other. His cheek on my ear, finding its tidy spot around the cloth and gentle skin—a churning and a crackling coursing through a tingling tingling neck. Every part of him was hot, only leading to me hugging tighter. Both he and I shuddered with the soft touch that naturally turned to teasing pinches that came with a young lover's first embrace.


He found my waist, down and down to the thicker fur at my hip. There were no words aside from our longing-filled breaths punctuated by contented sighs, but I could feel how impatient he was starting to become.


I, likewise, couldn't bear to wait. Our barriers were gone, the tender underbelly of our relationship ready to be unearthed at a moment's notice. I continued by gliding down his chest, circling back around to his waist. I gave him a cheeky squeeze, after which I quickly earned the squeak and giggle I was hoping for. My heart fluttered with my own silly chuckles. And then I had a thought.


I had always wondered what touching those flame vents would be like. Would it hurt from the sheer heat? What would it feel like?


I got my answer when Fenn kneaded his cheek against mine, my whiskers flowing with the smooth fur on his face. And through it all, I caught a hint of texture previously absent. A light scratch and coarseness, but not rough like sandpaper. It was like a peach fuzz—freshly shaven but somehow also similar to a sponge lathered with warm water. Instinctively, I breathed out in long, low bursts.


I never wanted to let go. The only thing that brought me back, filling my mind with yearning unlike any I had ever experienced, was the desire to see what I was so lovingly hugging.


I pulled back steadily and gently, but even that was not enough to stop the surprised and disappointed whimper from escaping the Quilava. I held his arms low down by his elbows and lingered, close as could possibly be.


"O-Oswald…" he pouted. And I melted. Fenn's ears were drooped, painted sunset red against the backdrop of fluffy white clouds. More red peeked out from the fur on his cheeks. It leaked out onto his short snout, filling out his face with delicate cherry flush ripe enough to smolder his cream colored fur. His eyes, too, were a wondrous ruby red. Wet and sparkling as if polished. So close and smooth that I could see my own eyes reflected back at me.


Words failed me. I wanted to stare for hours and absorb the gooey globs of velvet between us and spread it out across fields of roses and petunias. Water them with our loving embrace. Fenn, I would whisper to the flowers, I love you. I love you. I love you.


"Fenn…" I whispered back. But despite having the words on the tip of my tongue, they would not leave me. They whispered out through my fingers, my tail, my whiskers: I love you. I love you. I love you.


It was as though I forgot how to do anything but stare and marvel at the Quilava with a furnace around my heart. My mouth hung open limply, uselessly. What were words for, if not to express the most intimate of emotions?


His mouth hung open, as well. I could only imagine what words he would let fly if they had wings. From the additional whines rising from his throat, I could tell he wanted more. Needed more. More of me.


I adored the way his lips quivered when he was nervous, and how his fangs ever so slightly poked out from view. Maybe it was the pokemon in me desiring to bite and mark, but I wanted to taste the tender meat of his lips, feel the slight poke of fangs against my tongue.


His paws rose to my arms, rubbing them like he would his own, as if comforting me. Or, rather, he might have been encouraging me. My own paws remained at his sides as I found purchase there. A home.


I wanted him. So badly. More than either the human or the pokemon in me understood.


I couldn't stop myself if I tried. Eyes half-lidded, I leaned in. He seemed surprised at first, with eyes widened from their latent compassion. But that ended quickly once he fully understood what I wanted. What we both wanted.


He leaned into me himself as his paws rode the ridges of my thin arms, caressing them, eventually finding my shoulders. From there, his lips met mine without any issue.


It was a quick peck at first. Dipping our toes in the water, testing the heat. His lips found the base of my lower lip and I found the small spot between his nose and mouth. We both pulled back a couple inches for a reset and second attempt. This time was closer, with a breathy nip of mine finding a small bit of fur to take with me on the way out, leaving it pointed and wet.


Our third attempt was the closest. We had awkwardly shaped faces for a kiss like this—his longer even with his short snout. He turned his face a few degrees, though, locking lips with me. Like a long lost puzzle piece clicking into place.


FennOswaldKissEFX.png


Surprisingly, he was quite good at it. His lips curled in delight, opening and closing in tandem with mine, a steady back-and-forth. He tasted sweet, and a bit smokey. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about what it would be like to kiss him before. Sometimes, when his stuttering would get especially bad, and when I was feeling particularly bold, I considered shutting him up. No more extra effort to talk. Just let our lips tell the tale.


I was the one to pull back first, despite how much I never wanted it to end. But even water types like me needed to come up for air eventually. Besides, I had something to ask him, after all of that.


Fenn's breath was hot against my nose, his tongue still poking out. His pleading eyes angled up at me as if to ask "why did you stop?"


I chuckled, panting ever so slightly. I was curious. "Have you been practicing?" I wondered.


Fenn's eyes grew to twice their size. How was it possible for him to get even more red in the face? Sufficiently flustered, Fenn buried his face in my chest. He uttered, his voice muffled, "M-maybe…"


Cute.


I pulled him into me, resting my chin on his forehead. "So, what now?" I pondered, sighing.


Fenn turned his head, letting his mouth go free. "I-I don't know," he said. There was a dreamy quality to his tone that made him sound like he was barely awake.


"Heh…me neither."


I was okay with that. For once, I liked being uncertain. It was exciting.


And Fenn was the reason why. If it meant we could do it together, I had no worries.


"S-so, um…" Fenn murmured.


"Hm?"


"There was…one other th-thing I couldn't tell my dad…"


"What's that?"


"…I like males?"


I laughed. "Really now? I could've told you that."


He laughed back, burying his face in my chest again. "I-I'm glad I can be with you, Oswald. I love you."


"I love you, too, Fenn."




Confession - by Bograbbit
Kiss - by Timelocke
Author's Note - 9/28/2024

50 chapters. How's that for a "slow burn?"

I want to thank everyone that not only waited patiently for this chapter, but stuck with this story for this long. I know it took a while and it seemed like it wasn't going to get better at points, but I'm glad I was able to get here without much hassle. This has been a moment I've been waiting for for...years now. It's surreal finally getting here.

I had to make some major adjustments to this chapter mainly because I was so worried that I wouldn't be able to pull it off. And while I don't think it's perfect, I wanted to make sure I hit the beats I needed to just right, and keep things a little indulgent despite all of that. I'm sure some of you can appreciate it.

And hey, if you stuck around for this long, stick around for the rest. There's still plenty left to this story. It's just that now, our two leads can tackle it together. I'm very excited for that.

A huge thanks to my betas: Bonehead, Dust_Scout, and Timelocke. And of course, thank you. For everything. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Have a good one.
 
Chapter 51 - Day 19, Part 1: Take My Hand

SnapDragon

Frog on a mission
Pronouns
He/Him
Chapter 51: Day 19, Part 1 - Take My Hand

I was committed to this.

Even if it drew attention to us, and even if there was a chance we would get some looks, I was committed to this.

I would hold his paw in public and enjoy it.

"B-but…" Fenn stammered, his face turning red under his cream colored fur. "Oswald, w-we don't have to."

"But you always wanted to," I retorted gently, making it a point to keep our fingers linked together. "That's what you told me."

He looked away, one foot still hanging back in our room. "I-I know…" he muttered.

I tried not to frown, but he was making it hard for me. I knew he wasn't trying to. That last second realization that yes, we would have to try if we wanted to make this worth it, was hitting me, too. Like an apple dropping on my head before the whole tree collapses. But daunting as it was, I was well past the point of caring about what people thought of me.

…Okay, that was a lie. I glanced down the hall just to see if anyone was observing us even then, considering it was still possible to make up an excuse. When we would get down to the first floor and walk hand-in-hand amongst the crowd, though…

I softened my expression, rubbing my thumb over the back of his paw. "Hey," I said, "it'll be okay. I'm here."

He looked at me then, and what a beautiful thing he was. His lip was quivering. His eyes shimmered like diamonds. That was the best part, wasn't it? Being able to turn my gaze and see the person I cared about the most right next to me? We were boyfriends now—a couple. Along with that label came all of the comfort and safety we could want—nothing could tear us apart now. I mean, just yesterday we could barely talk to each other.

It was a juvenile thing, how my pulse quickened when I was by him, close to him. I thought I could control myself better than that.

Or maybe I was still getting used to the new me.

Fenn said, "I-I'm just worried." It showed on his face and the smoldering of his flame vents.

"I know. I'm uh…" I scratched the back of my head with my free paw, smiling awkwardly. "I'm not sure how this will go either."

Fenn looked away again, his ears drooping like low hanging leaves. "They might…c-call us names…"

They could. I could think of a few off the top of my head they could shout at us. That alone would ruin our day, confine us to lonely corners of the castle.

But I had to keep reminding myself: none of it would come close to Anemone's promises. She was going to be pissed the next time I saw her—which could be anytime—and nothing could change that.

So who cares? I had nothing to be afraid of. Especially not a bunch of homophobes.

"They can say whatever the hell they want," I stated. "It won't change a thing. I'll still love you and I won't let go. So, Fenn?"

His eyes trailed up, expectant, as though he knew what I was going to ask. That didn't seem to bother him. Or me, for that matter.

I threw him for a loop anyway, because why not? "I think my stomach is starting to revolt." My scraggly whiskers rose with my smile. "Let's go get something to eat before it unionizes."

"Unionizes…? I-is that another human thing?"

I shrugged. "I guess? Probably." And it felt good to say something like that. Nothing about the answer I gave was substantial, yet Fenn's eyes lit up anyway. Both of us liked this new me, I thought.

The second we left the room, Fenn clung not just to my paw but my whole arm as well. He huddled up close to me, to which I jerked in surprise, my shoulder bag being the only thing to keep us from conjoining.

"You're being awfully clingy," I teased.

"…S-sorry," Fenn mumbled. Being this close, I could see how subtly he bit his lip and how the insides of his ears glowed ever so subtly with red heat. "It's u-uh…cold."

That sounds like an excuse, I thought. Maybe in the future when I'd be a grumpy old man I'd stake some value in my personal space. But ever since yesterday the two of us had been looking for reasons to throw ourselves into a cuddle pile at every given opportunity. Deep down I thought Fenn wanted to make up for lost time. Meanwhile, I just couldn't help myself. Two perfectly good reasons to give that Quilava another hug.

I kissed him on the forehead, right between his flame vents. "You're the fire type, not me."

I pulled back just in time to evade a spurt of embers, the tiny bits of orange popping up to paw at my whiskers. He nuzzled his head under my chin once it settled. His warmth coursed through my chest, making my heart skip a beat.

"A-and you're a stinky water type," Fenn cheekily reminded me back.

"At least I can take baths, smelly."

He pouted up at me. It was a smug pout, like he was getting exactly what he wanted but was acting unsatisfied just because. "Y-you kissed a smelly Quilava, then," he said.

I chuckled low in my throat, moving my face closer to his. "Want me to do it again?"

Fenn craned his neck up until our noses were inches apart. The answer was written along the dreamy reflection in his eyes. He made an indulgent, crooning noise, somewhere between a purr and a coo. Along with it came an uttering of the word, "P-please…"

Who was I to deny such a simple request? I slid my paw up his back, finding purchase at the nape of his neck. His paw—the one that wasn't furiously gripping my own—ran over the fur on my chest, stopping at the opposite shoulder. We interlocked our lips and played a little game of tug-of-war. Pressing into each other here, nibbling a little there, all while giggling like playful puppies.

Something I had gradually come to notice over the past day was that, when it came to physical affection, Fenn tended to become a bit forceful—moreso than before. Gripping me, digging his short claws into my fur as if trying to lovingly open me up like a present, often taking more than I could give without another breath. I supposed it made sense even if it did throw me off; all of that time keeping quiet had to be balanced somehow.

I won't lie…it emasculated me a bit to know he could absolutely overpower me. But I wasn't going to act like that was a dealbreaker or anything.

One of us had to peel off the other, which ended up being me. I dragged that Quilava along despite his displeasure, but at least that displeasure was linked to his lingering desire to kiss me more, not his anxiety.

Other than that, It was unfortunately business as usual as we headed down to the first floor. Fenn and I reconciled as part of the most harrowing evening of either of our lives, but the rest of the castle was milling about as if nothing happened. Selfish as it was, I couldn't help but bristle at that fact, in part because that meant the hallways were awash with unwelcome, prying eyes. Although, Fenn explained earlier that it was actually the weekend, and a large portion of the castle was out in town and in general spending time off-work.

For some reason I was just as peeved at how he knew what day it was in the first place. Being out of the loop annoyed me, too.

A lot of things were annoying me, as it turned out. I could feel the hot flush of red prickling my cheeks as I dragged Fenn along, him treating me like a walking barrier. Every time the fur on his hip brushed against mine, I felt him shudder. There were pokemon looking at us, with their eyes darting from up to down then back up again. Some, albeit not many, affixed their faces with one of three expressions: concern, confusion, or if I was really lucky—disgust. I imagined what they sounded like if they dared to talk.

"What do you think you're doing?" I could practically hear a passing Ledian say. "Don't you know that's unnatural?"

"Unnatural?" I imagined myself saying. "Yeah, I know a thing or two about being unnatural. What's it to you?"

There were maybe three or four instances where that could have occurred. I was so bothered by the possibility that I almost wished it would have. Maybe then my annoyance could have been justified.

And yet, nothing of the sort happened. If the passing pokemon didn't ignore us—most of them did—they gave us a friendly, unobtrusive smile instead.

I watched one pokemon as they passed me in particular—a Stantler with absurdly gangly horns and deep purple bags under their eyes. They glanced at me for a split second, smiled just a little, then continued on their way. Their gait told me that they had places to be, but no desire to be there.

Nothing more, nothing less. I felt like a jackass for thinking that, of all pokemon, that Stantler would give Fenn and I a hard time. I couldn't do worse to them than what they were doing to themselves.

Regardless, we made it about halfway down the hall, right near the courtyard…and nothing had happened.

"Almost there…just keep going," I muttered into Fenn's ear.

He jolted, puny puffs of black smoke exiting his vents like a sneeze. His grip on my paw tightened. His snout was still angled towards the ground. "W-we shouldn't have done this…"

I could barely hear him over the sounds of chattering guild pokemon. Really, it was the tenseness in his neck that tipped me off—the rigidness of his back combined with the sharpness of his whisper. It almost sounded like a threat when he spoke, better fit for a cornered animal.

I was ashamed to admit that it made my whiskers twitch—another addition to my repertoire of slights against this day in particular. At that moment, I wanted to say "let's just go back." Because who cares? Why did we need to be open about this?

Well, that was the thing. Ever since yesterday I kept getting this nagging voice in the back of my head. A shrill, discordant figure that blared obscenities through the back of my eyes, reminding me over and over again:

'Wrong choice, buddy. You fucked up. Now you're screwed.'

And it tended to slide out when I was contemplating any action that involved turning around. Like right then, when a particularly nasty look on this one Medicham's face entered my vision. I just had to wonder, why not?

Because I'm Oswald, I thought. Which was the end of that thought process entirely. The discordant voice screeched and scuttled back to its damp cave like the roach it was. It would be back. I just had to be ready.

I took a deep breath and gave Fenn a reassuring smile. "It's fine, Fenn. No one cares."

Not reassuring enough, though, as Fenn's ears only drooped lower. His eyes scanned the passersby around him, lingering for moments too long. Most of the pokemon weren't even paying us any mind.

He said with a nervous titter to his voice, "I-I can't believe it. All of this…I-I wanted this…" That was when he started rubbing his arm. "It's…i-it's not what I imagined."

Even though he really wasn't talking to me, I responded: "You've been imagining for too long."

He looked at me for elaboration.

But instead of giving him that, I gingerly pulled his arm away, turned him about, and took both of his paws into mine. I plainly read the surprise through his suddenly raised ears.

I said, "You don't have to imagine anymore."

"B-b-but…it's not the same," Fenn fretted.

"Were you expecting it to be?"

The Quilava glanced away timidly. He didn't even shake his head.

"Is it really such a bad thing?" I asked, even if I felt like a dick afterwards. What a hypocrite I was, acting as though the imagination was just some silly thing. That voice was nagging at me again, telling me all about how my insistence on this was just going to make Fenn hate me, so I was in no place to talk.

"I don't know…" Fenn uttered. "A-a part of me wanted it to get easier."

"You still want that, right?" Because hell, so did I.

To my confusion, Fenn shook his head this time. "N-no…no, that's not right."

"What do you mean?"

Fenn slipped one of his paws from my grip and lifted it to rub his face. From his vents down to his chin in a slow slide. By the time it fell to his chest and remained there, Fenn sighed softly. He opened his eyes and smiled warmly at me.

"I-if…if it was easy," he said, "I-I wouldn't have you."

I just about kissed him right then and there, but the occasional pair of eyes shot our direction reminded me to keep it subtle. My shoulders fell, as a tension that had previously snuck in ran off. My whiskers rose joyfully.

"I love you, too, Fenn." I took his paw in mine and continued our journey. "Come on. Let's go get something to eat."

It would have been really nice if we could have ended it on that note. But clearly, the universe had other ideas in mind.

We didn't make it two steps before we heard shouts coming from the lobby just around the corner. A stillness entered the hallway, most around us collectively deciding to turn their gaze. Really, it was nothing new. These things happen sometimes—it was a big castle. We might have hesitated further, and maybe even ignored it.

But the second Fenn and I shared a glance, I knew. We recognized one of the voices.

The two of us rushed past the growing crowd of onlookers to the foyer, where an altercation was in the midst of brewing.

"How about, you take those rules of yours, crumple 'em up in a ball, and shove 'em up your-"

I flinched. There was only one mon I knew that had a voice that scratchy and vocabulary more vulgar than mine.

It was Finch, struggling from behind a bodyblock of two Gengar. The Krokorok didn't look or sound happy, based on how frequently he was snapping his jaws and pointing a digit in accusation.

And he just kept going.

"Where's that slimy dipshit Aster anyway, huh? I got some words for him if he thinks this is fair!"

Fenn uttered a quiet "oh no…" next to me.

As much as I wanted to question how Finch even knew about Aster to begin with, the guards weren't giving me—and subsequently him—much time to think about it. They shifted their bulky, wispy bodies every time Finch so much as tried to move an inch. His arms couldn't even poke through the gaps between.

"We were told not to let you in, vagrant," one of the Gengar, a particularly greasy sounding one, said. "Explicit orders from Anemone herself."

"Yeah, no shit!" Finch hissed. "How about you let me go talk to her so we can sort this out!"

Seeing Finch so furious, and noticing the ways his teeth audibly clacked together, his tail raising threateningly, made me feel all kinds of queasy. Knowing Anemone specifically didn't want him here told me that he was never supposed to be here in the first place. One slip up, that was all it took. Just a couple days with him here, and a few with him gone, led to this.

The other Gengar, the shadows dripping from his form like ooze, cackled menacingly. "Ain't gonna happen, bub. Hit the road, or we'll make ya hit it."

Finch growled low in his throat. Just then I noticed how backed into a corner he was, what with the front doors being directly behind him. They had him locked down before he even reached the reception desk.

Were they waiting for him?

"O-Oswald!" Fenn spoke up, his flame vents sparking in preparation to ignite. "We have to do something!"

I knew I should have, but…the nagging voice came back. It had a different effect this time. Less of a discordant screech and more of a sneering hiss.

'Naaaaah,' it said. 'You don't need him. What did he ever do for you anyway? Cuz from what I remember, he caused you lots of trouble.'

I tightened my fists at my sides. Against my better judgment, yeah, all of the frustration Finch caused me when we first met clawed its way to the front of my mind. There was a sick part of me that found some satisfaction in seeing him lose his cool. Who did he think he was thrusting himself into my business like he had any right to do that? This was always going to happen.

Besides, Fenn and I reconciled. What did I need Finch for?

I wasn't quite sure when it happened, but Finch and I met eyes as he struggled. He slowed, a plan forming on his snout.

"Ozzy!" he called out. "Over here!"

Not only was I being singled out now, the pokemon surrounding the hubbub began to shift their gaze toward me expectantly. I heard their hushed, gossiping voices, eliciting my shoulders to rise. Everyone wanted to see how I would react. The cackling in the back of my mind was growing louder and louder…but you know what else was bubbling up at the back of my mind?

I'm Oswald. I'm past that now. I'm starting over.

I stepped forward, Fenn not far behind. His flames were billowing like an active fireplace. "Hey!" I snapped, my fists tightening enough to dig into my palms. "Leave him alone!"

At first, the ghosts turned to me with a look that told me they were about to blow up in anger. They were the guards, this was their job, after all. But then they saw the Dewott who yelled at them and I swear their gray faces paled.

"This doesn't concern you, Dewott," the greasy Gengar growled. What caught me off guard was that he didn't seem all that confident in what he was saying anymore. His sharp fingers twiddled against his stomach.

I crossed my arms and challenged him with a look. "Doesn't concern me? That's my teammate, asshole. Anemone not convey that to you?"

"He's telling the truth!" Finch shouted. "Look!" The Krokorok held up his arm to show the dark purple scarf wrapped around his bicep. He slapped it a few times for good measure. I pulled at my own scarf to accentuate the point he was making.

Fenn's fire had intensified to the point where I could feel the heat radiating off of him a few steps away. "H-he's with us!" he asserted.

Both Gengar were quickly losing their composure. The one with his ooze dripping from his body visibly balked, making him sweat like he was melting.

Honestly, that was more satisfying than seeing Finch stumble. If it meant stepping on the queen's toes…

"N-now you listen here," the Gengar stammered, "we have direct orders-"

But Finch didn't even care about them at this point. He only had eyes for me. "Ozzy!" he said, his tail thumping loudly behind him. "I need to talk to you! Get over here!"

I was moving at autopilot at this point. I wasn't even scared at the repercussions of my actions because I didn't even think about it. My head was only filled with the prospect of somebody in this equation losing the altercation. Not once did I think it could possibly be me.

Not until a Dusknoir rose from the ground, blocking my path and bringing me to a halt.

"And where do you think you're going?" Oleander said. The tone of his voice was as slimy as ever, and that made the fur on the back of my neck stand on end.

Oh come on…

I glared up at him. "I'm not leaving, Oleander. Can I not talk to people now?"

His wide form floated down, halfway through the floor to better bore his eye into me. He talked low, direct. Every word had a purpose accentuated by sharp peaks.

"He seeks to give you unscrupulous ideas," he stated. "Surely you must know that this vagrant only accounts for himself."

Fenn sidled up next to me, his fur acting as a warm cushion to fall back on. While he didn't say anything, the paw he placed on the small of my back told me everything: I'm here for whatever you decide to do.

With confidence, I said, "And what if I don't know? What if I talk to him anyway?"

Oleander's singular eye narrowed. "That will not be happening."

I blinked. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, I somewhat expected Anemone and her cronies to have a problem with Finch, but not to the degree that I couldn't even talk to him. This was ridiculous.

"Fuck. Off. This was never your job, Oleander. You know that!"

"It is now," he retorted, floating back up to his full height, his hands behind his back. "Lady Anemone stated it to be so with utmost clarity."

Anemone, huh? I wondered internally. Wait a second…that's not-

I countered by asking him, "Is this what Calluna would want?"

Oleander froze. Got him.

"Knowing her, she wouldn't want to inconvenience me," I continued. "Does she even know about this?"

The Dusknoir hesitated, then said, "...That is none of your concern."

I spoke quickly, as though I'd lose my chance if I didn't. I held up my paws. "Just give me five minutes. That's it. Five minutes then you can do whatever you want."

Nothing about Oleander's demeanor changed, but I could see the way his ghostly form seemed to waver more than usual. His response came slow and deliberate. "...Enough. I see no reason to grant you that luxury."

Except for the fact that you might lose your job?

I wanted to tear my fur out one clump at a time. God, I couldn't believe that I put up with this for so long. Every single time I so much as expressed an interest in stepping outside the line I'd get pushed right back in. It was maddening!

While I wracked my brain for another counter argument, Fenn stepped forward. I had to shirk my gaze away so the brightness wouldn't hurt my eyes. Flecks of fire spilled out of his active flame vents, sizzling as they hit the floor. He was like a living blowtorch, and sounded like one, too. Either that was his fire or his throat growling—it didn't really matter. All three ghosts backpedaled at the sight of him.

"H-he said, five minutes," Fenn uttered resolutely.

Oleander said, "Quilava Fenrir, I regret to inform you that attacking other pokemon in the castle grounds is worthy of a suspension."

But that didn't phase Fenn. Which made my stomach drop, and I wasn't even the one being threatened. He quietly cleared his throat. I didn't hear a lick of a stutter when he spoke.

"You sound scared."

There was a hint of genuine trepidation behind the subtle backwards movement of the Dusknoir. The tremble of his antenna. And the subsequent stammer in his breathing.

There was a long, considerate pause. Then Oleander finally relented: "...Five minutes. No more, no less. I will be timing you."

It took me a moment to recover, what with my boyfriend sounding like a completely different person all of a sudden. I'd have to poke him about that later.

Anyway, I blinked and said, "Sure, whatever. Please go away."

Thankfully, he and the other ghosts phased through the floor to their word. Finch was left alone and out in the open, his arms still raised in defiance. He looked at me in wordless shock.

I hurriedly made for the Krokorok, but not before turning to Fenn as I passed him. "Nice job," I said, the words tumbling out of my mouth.

"Y-yeah, y-you too," he stuttered. He followed close behind me, and his flames slipped back into his head along with his confidence. The tips of his ears burned a bright, fiery red.

After that, Finch had a smirk on his snout by the time we reached him, his arms crossed. He chuckled, and now that I was closer I noticed the dully colored backpack he had on. When did he get that?

"I didn't know you had that much influence, Ozzy," he said.

I frowned. "You're pretty smug for someone who nearly got arrested."

The Krokorok looked off at something to the side. His tail swayed idly behind him, but his snout was snapped shut, not a hint of teeth glinting through. Unlike Fenn with his big, pointy ears Finch was always harder to read. I couldn't tell if he was happy to see me or annoyed that I had to step in. Even the tone of his voice was smooth.

"Yeah, well, been a long few days," Finch grumbled. "I bet they just didn't want me tracking any dirt in." He then nodded at Fenn next to me. "Nice to see you, hot stuff."

"H-hi…" Fenn muttered.

My expression didn't change. Though hearing Finch call Fenn that name made my cheeks burn more than I expected. "We don't have much time, Finch," I told him. "They're gonna come back. Do you have a plan?"

Finch chuckled at that, too. But this time it was sardonic, like he had a whole weekend's worth of irony piled up that was only just then released. He said, "I do. But look, Ozzy, I want answers as much as you do-"
"This doesn't sound like a plan." I was starting to itch. A whole minute had to have already passed.

Finch held up his claws defensively. "I'm working on it. I want answers, too. About a lot of things. But neither of us are going to get anywhere without the other's help."

"What are you getting at?"

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "There's a mine down south with information both of us need. I got us a ride."

"A mine?" I wondered.

He nodded. "Remember Turaco? This is where it leads."

"Turaco- oh." My eyes went wide. "That guy."
"Yeah. That guy. The Heliolisk with the stupid hat." Finch straightened his posture, looking down at me expectantly. "You want information? This is your best bet."

My best bet, huh…

It seemed so long ago when we visited that port town and I pestered that drug dealer for information. I could barely even remember what he told me; my attention was almost immediately split right afterwards. By what, I wouldn't know how to answer. Everything but that.

If what Finch was telling me was true, not that I had the time to consider the alternative, that lead I had was still tenable. I could finally learn about why I was here.

But circumstances had only changed since then.

I grimaced, scratching at a scalchop on my hip. "Small problem: I'm not allowed to leave," I said.

Finch's response was to point over his shoulder again. Gravel entered his voice, straight to the point. "The door's right here."

"Yeah, I see that," I said pointedly. "How far would we get?"

Fenn held up his paw, albeit shyly, to point out, "Th-that Dusknoir is looking after him. We…w-we had to plead with Calluna just to leave for an hour yesterday."

Finch let out a combination of a sigh and a growl—a deeply frustrated noise. "Great. That just makes it harder to drag you out of here."

I thought that Finch wasn't quite understanding what I was getting at, even if I, myself, wanted what he wanted, too. To be fair, though, I didn't think I knew what I wanted either.

Believe it or not, there was a lingering hope I clung to that some amount of good behavior would lessen the inevitable consequences of going behind Anemone's back. Maybe if I made the conscious decision not to do this, her psychic grip would only feel like a couple of sharp pins in my neck, instead of a hundred.

Just…the thought of her loud, booming commands ripping through my eardrums made me want to vomit. I knew I resigned myself to let it all go, but…

And I mean, do I really need this lead anymore? I thought. I'm Oswald. Does Oswald need to know for certain what his role in the world is? Is it really that important?

…How many minutes had passed? Shit. My fur was getting damp with sweat.

I shrugged clumsily. "I…don't know what to do," I admitted. "They're not going to let me…"

A whisper clipping at my ears: 'Pathetic. Just pathetic.'

Finch's dark eyes grew ever so slightly darker in the shadows. His claws suddenly had sharper points, or so it seemed. He snarled, "Don't you back down now, Ozzy. Not. Now."

I opened my mouth to speak, only to be shut up by Fenn leaning in and gripping my arm. I snapped my gaze towards him, catching sight of red, pleading eyes. Always pleading.

"O-Oswald," he said, "this is important to you…right? L-look, I don't know what you're thinking, but…I-I-I'll go with you. Anywhere. N-no matter what."

My throat locked up. "Fenn…" I breathed.

Finch, also, rested a claw on my shoulder. In complete contrast to before, he showed a soft selection of yellowed teeth. "Same for me," he grinned. "We'll figure it out."

It was brief, but I witnessed his eyes flashing between me, Fenn, then back to me again. After which he winked.

My cheeks grew hot.

I let out a sigh. You know, this wasn't even about me anymore, was it? After all, who cared in the end if it meant I did the opposite of what the queen wanted?

Although, there was one thing.

My eyes shot back to Fenn in a frantic rush. "...Wait, what about Cosmo?" I said, gripping the straps of my shoulder bag. "Isn't he back in the room?"

Flame vents bursting to life in an instant, Fenn seemed to have come to the same sudden realization. "O-oh!" he blurted out. "You're right! W-we can't just…leave him here. What if…"

"God…we can't…!" I uttered under my breath. My face fell.

We were running out of time. I'd have to make a choice after all. An actual choice.

What have I been doing this whole time? Cosmo…poor little guy—I had barely thought about him. So much was on my mind and I just jumped into my own little world and forgot about him and-

Wait.

I opened the flap of my bag.

Inside of the bag was the sleeping face of a certain Solosis, tiny snores causing the surface of his bubble to gently vibrate. I couldn't even bring myself to frown or groan. Wordlessly, I showed the contents of the bag to Fenn.

He looked inside—face still full of anguish—and, seeing Cosmo, new life was thrust into his previously drooping ears. But his fire still fumed in what I could only describe as a disappointed inferno.

"...Oh," was all he had to say.

I closed the bag. "I guess that solves that problem?" I smiled sheepishly. We really had no other choice but to take him with us.

Fenn rubbed his arm uncomfortably.

"So, that means you're coming with?" Finch asked hopefully, gripping the straps of his backpack.

I sighed. "Yeah…yeah, I think so."

A grin spread onto Finch's snout, but it didn't last long. Not after a familiar intonation rang the conclusive bell of our conversation.

"Time is up," Oleander boomed with an obnoxious reminder in a deep cadence.

I turned on him, momentarily taking note of the thoroughly invested crowd around us. I hadn't even noticed that they were still there, let alone that they had condensed and gotten closer. Still, I ignored them. Gossip was the least of my problems now.

"What are you going to do, Oleander?" I asked with a scowl.

The Dusknoir pointed behind me, and as he did those two Gengar phased up through the floor behind him. They were still, but not relaxed in the slightest. No doubt primed like springs to jump at any moment.

"That vagrant requires questioning," Oleander said. "If deemed fit, you may converse with him more another time."

Finch scoffed. "Behind bars? Fat chance."

Oleander leaned forward—towering over us. He didn't change much besides that, but his frame was all the more intimidating that way.

I fought to keep from stepping back. "This is unfair," I seethed.

"Such is the way of things."

I hate the way he said that. All wistful and shit. Bleh.

Flames raging, Fenn stepped in front of me, blocking me with one of his arms. "L-leave us alone!" he snarled. A surprisingly frightening sound coming from a meek voice like his.

To that, Oleander leaned back, making himself taller. He looked down at us—over us. I swore I could see a hint of satisfaction in his eye. "I will give you one chance," he warned. "Step. Away."

As if on cue, two more Gengar floated up through the floor behind him. They fanned out, blocking every route outside of the one leading to the entry doors of the foyer.

I winced. Our chances were getting worse by the second. And I was starting to have doubts.

I even took a step back.

"Fucking asshole…" Finch growled in my ear. I almost thought he was talking about me. I wished he was, because he was right. Didn't I put myself in this position? Didn't I put us in this position?

Clearly, I did something wrong somewhere. Someone who did everything right would have a plan to get out of this. I didn't have anything. I just gripped my scalchop…and hoped I could get a good hit in if they got close. The thought of having to resort to a fight made my knees wobble, though. Like I said, I had my doubts.

'Give up…GIVE UP!'

I was just about to. But then something caught my eye.

My gaze must have wandered while I considered my mortality. I saw the pokemon watching me, studying me, exploiting my fear. Some looked about as horrified as I was, their worried whispers like crackling bubbles in my ears. While others, with their eyes sharper than fangs, pined for a show. A real show. With violence and bloodshed.

They weren't who I was interested in. I noticed one of them in particular; it was hard not to. His navy blue cloak and prissy white ribbons betrayed his desire to remain hidden. He couldn't traverse the crowd and avoid my detection, oh no.

It all clicked into place. I conjured up a thought before I could stop the adrenaline from congealing in my knees.

"...Fine, you win. I'll let you-" Then I pointed a finger at the crowd, quickly shouting out, "HOLY SHIT, IS THAT NEO, THE FENCER?"

Oleander's eye went wide immediately. He swiftly forgot what he was doing and swung his entire body about. "What? Where?"

It all became chaos from there. Voices split the cacophony.

"Neo, the Fencer?"
"No way!"

"Where? Where? There's too many pokemon!"

"I want his autograph!"

Even one of the Gengar split off to go fanboy the cowering, covered Lucario.

Meanwhile: "No, NO!" Neo bellowed. "Leave me be! I just want breakfast!"

It made me smirk, despite everything. By my estimate, we had a few precious seconds. Oleander was downright enamored, at least.

"Time to go!" I blurted out. "Come on!"

Fenn and Finch were quick to trail behind me, the latter howling with laughter as we dashed for the door. "Nice going, Ozzy!"

Unfortunately, that also got Oleander's attention. He stormed after us a moment sooner than I would have liked.

"Stop right there!" he shouted gruffly, to an uncharacteristic degree. "You are not to leave!"

A chill ran down my spine. We made it to the door, but it was big and heavy. If we wanted to get out fast, all three of us would have to squeeze through. Hard to manage in an orderly fashion when there was a Dusknoir right on our tails.

"Shit…!" I uttered. The door was moving too slow, even with both Finch and I pushing for our damn lives. We were going to get caught.

Was this it? All of that for nothing?

Apparently, no. Fenn wasn't pushing. Instead, he spun on the ghost, reeled back, and prepared to exhale. Except, he didn't right away. He caught himself at the last moment, clasping his mouth shut. Then, with embers spewing from his nostrils—and I swore I heard it—he burped out a cloud of black smoke into Oleander's face.

"Gah!" Oleander screeched.

Fenn coughed, wisps of fire dancing like erupting lava from his forehead. "G-go!" he stammered.

With one more collective push, the three of us squeezed out onto the front lawn of the castle. We toppled over each other, landing in nothing but a hapless heap. In a daze, I glanced forward to freedom. It was black, furry, and bulky.

Oh.

I forgot about Crocus.

"Hey!" the large Pangoro snapped, glaring at the pile of mons at his feet. "What the-"

Finch gave him no time to think and yelled, "Run!"

My brain could barely shoot commands to my legs before Fenn had me upright and running, dashing around and under Crocus' legs. I stumbled, lagging behind if only by a hair. Which was just enough for Crocus to lunge and grip my calf on the way out.

"STOP!" The Pangoro's shout rang in my ears.

I screamed. "AH!" The two of us collapsed into the dirt as a daisy chain of flailing limbs, held together by the vice grip he had on me. It felt like my whole leg was caving in on itself from the pressure.

"NO- AGH!"

"Hold still!"

I panicked. My body started to shake uncontrollably.

Shitshitshitshitshitshit!

Fennpleasehe'sgonnakillmegoddon'tlethimpleasepleasepleasenonononoNO!


"NO!"

I shouted so loud that I thought my vocal cords burst. In a split second, my paw shot to my hip and slid across the grooves of my scalchop. My arm flowed like water in an arc, swinging up over my shoulder then back down with force.

My scalchop glittered beautifully in my paw. A bright white blade that wasn't there prior jutted from its tip. It came down like a wave-

-and cut Crocus' hand clean off.

Ba-thump.

His scream was guttural.

Mine was feral.

Blood splattered into the dirt.

Ba-thump.

I slid from the hand's limp grip.

Ba-thump.

Fenn had me up and running again.

Ba-thump.

The world was rushing by.

Ba-thump.

We ran.

Ba-thump.

Ba-thump.

Ba-thump.



Author's Note - 11/16/2024

And we're on to something new. Took a short break after the last chapter, needed some time to finish other things in the meantime. I'm hoping to get one more chapter out before the end of the year. In general, I got less done than I would have liked this year, but I reached an important milestone so...I'll call that a success.

Anyway, I didn't initially plan on ending this chapter the way I did. I mean, I sort of had this in mind, but it was less intense. Glad I went with this, though, because this on-the-spot choice made me reconsider how I wanted to approach a later arc. This far in and still making drastic changes. That's just how writing goes sometimes. Keeps things fresh.

Bonehead, Timelocke, and Dust_Scout did a great job beta reading this one. And you (yes, you) did a wonderful job reading it.

Have a good one.
 
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