I Will Touch the Skies – A Pokemon Fanfiction

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CHAPTER 327 - THE CEREMONY

"We should have gone on foot," my dad complained.

Even for Jubilife, the amount of cars on the road was extreme. We'd moved three blocks in the last thirty minutes because of the sheer amount of people who were going to Craig's ceremony. The event was set to take place in and around Poketch Headquarters because they were paying for most of the event at a time when the government had to pinch every penny. Luckily since I was a sponsee and I knew a lot of people, I'd be able to access and move throughout the actual building, which was open only to a select few.

Ugh. That kind of sounded elitist, didn't it?

"You can always pay for parking, and we can walk the rest of the way," I suggested.

He scanned the surroundings and shook his head. "Nope. No parking spaces anywhere, we'll have to wait until we get to Poketch." As an employee, he had a special parking spot reserved for him below ground. It would just take a while to get here.

"Good thing we left so early, then," I said.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him smile. "Only after I told you to finish getting ready for the millionth time."

"I didn't take any longer than yesterday! Now you're just being annoying on purpose."

I was wearing the exact same black knee-length dress, though I'd styled my hair in waves instead of straight like yesterday. My finger felt strangely naked without my ring, but I'd never worn much jewelry anyway save for Mimi. Not like I could wear a couple's ring without being in a couple, even if it hurt. Speaking of them, Mimi was sitting on the car's dashboard and was enthralled by how the car moved and responded to dad's steering wheel.

"I'm just joshin' ya," he said.

"I know. Sorry."

Dad glanced my way with a worried look. "Come on, no need to apologize."

He was also going to be at the ceremony, and as an employee, he would also be allowed inside. I was glad he was going to be there; I had learned yesterday that even if he couldn't understand or know what I'd been through, he was a soothing presence for me. As it turned out, I had been mostly wrong. So long as he didn't press me on anything, he was essential in returning to a sense of normalcy. I'd missed these times. Back when I used to be a normal kid.

I leaned against the car window and sighed. Sweat permeated through my palms. It was difficult not to be nervous about this event, especially when such a difficult conversation was coming up. The nightmare I'd gotten last night about me making Maylene run away crying certainly didn't help. Hopefully, I'd get through to her clearly and without causing some kind of disaster.

"You look anxious, kiddo," he noticed, looking at me. "What's wrong?"

It took me a few seconds to find an excuse. "Well, I knew him, you know? Craig…"

"Don't lie to your dad, now," he said in a tone dripping with concern. "You—" he stopped when someone suddenly merged into his lane without any turn signals. "Legendaries, you won't get there any faster," dad complained. I watched him as his eyes narrowed, likely passing silent judgment on the driver of the oversized Unovan car. He was probably thinking about how someone who drove one of those huge Unovan cars must have been an asshole. It wouldn't be the first time. "Anyway," he resumed, his tone softening as he glanced at me again, "you don't have to tell me if you're not ready, Grace. I'm just worried about you."

"It's fine," I sighed. "I guess I'm meeting a friend."

"Isn't that a good thing? Who is it, one of your co-workers?" he asked. "That Bobby kid who undermined you?"

"No, no, it has nothing to do with Poketch." My head turned even further away from him in embarrassment. "It's a Gym Leader. Maylene Suzuki."

"You're… friends?" Dad had seen our Gym Battle, and while he hadn't said anything of its brutality, he knew how strange the concept that we'd ever get along was. "That's surprising." He nudged the side of my arm. "Look at you, making more friends in high places."

"Focus on the road," I groaned. "Anyway, we're going to have a really tough conversation, and it's going to suck. That's it."

"Ah. Well, I hope it goes well between you two. Want me to be there?"

"Absolutely not!" While I appreciated him not digging to figure out what was going to be said, I couldn't help but snap, already imagining that misunderstanding waiting to happen. "I'll handle it, you just go do your thing. Whatever that is!"

Dad laughed. "I wasn't going to actually listen in, just be close in case it went wrong."

He had told me that he'd be with some of his co-workers. Some men and women I only knew by name, but who had apparently been cheering for me during the Circuit. I'd been a big hit in their department because I was his kid, and he was pretty well-liked. It was mildly embarrassing to imagine him touting my every win like I was the second coming of Cynthia, but dad had long prided himself as my biggest fan.

It took us another hour to get to Poketch. On our way to the parking garage, we slowly drove next to the building, which meant I saw how it had all been set up. The outside was full of people swarming in, giving their tickets to get past both League and private Poketch security. I even saw some men in Kanto-Johto uniforms. Unlike the dull orange— almost brown— Sinnoh had adopted, theirs was a mess of greens and khakis. Tickets to the ceremony were not free (the country had to make its money back somehow), but it was cheap enough to have thousands of people swarming in. With the amount of people coming in, I was certain they were sold out.

Around the Poketch Building had usually been an empty stretch of concrete pathways framed by minimalist vegetation that guided visitors through the space in a way that was reminiscent of Veilstone. While that hadn't changed much save for a little bit more greenery around the edges to appear more presentable, more benches and chairs than I could count had been added around the space, all facing toward a podium adorned with the Sinnohan flag gleaming in the sun. Maylene had told me that was where the Gym Leaders, Elite Four, and Champion would sit. It'd be my first time seeing Cynthia again, and I sincerely hoped she was doing alright. She probably was, given that the country hadn't collapsed in on itself. Behind the podium was a huge projector screen on which I assumed they would show pictures or videos of Craig. We could hear the anthem softly playing through the slightly-opened windows of the car.

"They went all patriotic for this one," dad said with a touch of sarcasm. "Kind of funny, considering you've got people from Kanto-Johto here."

That statement made me raise an eyebrow. Dad usually wasn't one to get political, or at least not with me. I knew the basis of his beliefs, though. Mostly, he despised dictatorships or authoritarianism of any kind, which was why the presence of the Indigoan army in the streets of the city he was born in made him so uneasy.

"I know how it looks, but it's a good thing. Without them, we'd be in a much worse spot. They gave us money, Teleporters, medicine, hospital beds—"

He cut me off. "I know, I know." A sigh escaped him, heavy enough for me to notice his chest visibly sink. "I just fear for the future."

That was something I couldn't fault him for. Even Jasmine had told me that they hadn't done this only out of the kindness of their hearts. While she was here, she'd most likely be too busy to see me. She'd told me that while she'd wanted to speak due to becoming good friends with Craig this year, the League had refused her request. The optics were already bad; they wouldn't make it worse with having a foreign speaker at an event meant for Sinnohans and to celebrate a Sinnohan life. Personally, I didn't care, but that was how the world worked. Jasmine wasn't too bitter about it.

I was just starting to take note of the food and drinks they were offering when the car eased into a tunnel and descended into the parking area. Dad noted how even this place was unusually full as he neatly guided the car to its spot. Before I got out, I decided to text Maylene and the rest of my friends about my arrival. Save for Cecilia, who was gone; Maeve, who hadn't bothered to come; and Chase, who'd said he didn't want to watch the government waste so much money on a party for rich people, they were all here. Even Denzel. I'd made note of a few other acquaintances I knew who would be here by scouring the net, such as Professor Rowan, Dawn, Lucas, and Barry. Hell, some famous people I didn't even know were here, too. Buck— Flint's younger brother— had interrupted his work on the Battle Frontier to get here. One of Sinnoh's most mysterious figures and few aura users, Riley Ansson, was somewhere here as well. The same man Beast had tried to kill and been beaten back by on the Iron Islands. If you were anybody at all, this ceremony was the place to be.

I wasn't sure I was going to see much of my friends, considering they weren't allowed inside. While I was going to go out there when Cynthia and the other important people gave their speeches, there was no way I'd go out there in this massive crowd. I needed the relative quiet to focus. Last night, I had rehearsed the way the conversation with Maylene would go so many times it was still ringing in my head. I had backups too. So long as the conversation didn't derail too much…

"Getting out?" Dad loomed over the car with his hand on the hood.

"Y—yeah." I scooped Mimi up in my arms, and the steel type decided to turn into a looser choker resting on my collarbone. "You all set up?" I whispered. When they vibrated, we finally got going toward the elevators.

Even if the underground was relatively free of people, there were plenty here, either taking refuge from the hordes outside or inside Poketch Headquarters or just making their way up just like we were. Once we got to the elevators (and they took years to get here), I noticed that they'd put a plaque on the wall saying they had blocked basically every single floor unless you were high up in the company. Melody had brought a keycard to our apartment the other day to access the private elevators that would bring me up. For now, though, we stopped at the ground floor.

Even in here, with only employees and close associates, there was a sea of people. Thankfully, it was far easier to navigate, and there were plenty of areas with fewer people around all over this floor.

"I wonder if there's going to be overflow issues," dad pondered. "Are you gonna be alright?"

He'd grabbed my hand out of habit. Even now, he still had his old instincts of not letting me get too far away from him in crowds. When he noticed, he let go with an apologetic nod.

"I'm gonna be okay; I'll just go upstairs." My eyes kept glancing left and right, as if I'd be accosted by Maylene any second now, but I already knew where she'd be. Backstage, waiting for the speeches to begin. After that, we were supposed to meet right around here. "What about you? Gonna get lost?" I teased, trying to cheer myself up.

He snorted. "Think you're slick, eh?" He hovered his hand up over my hair, as if to threaten he'd mess it up like yesterday, and I nearly jumped out of the way. With another laugh, he added, "see you later, kid. Remember, I'm just a phone call away if you need it."

I waved at him until he disappeared into the crowd, and now the reality of the situation was really setting in. Checking my phone again, Maylene had answered with a cute thumbs-up sticker of a Ducklett. Was she not nervous like I was? That answer didn't really give the vibe of someone who was anxious. Why did it even matter if she was or not? It wouldn't change anything, anyway. What I needed to say would remain the same.

Maybe micro analyzing texting patterns wasn't the right idea to get my mind off things.

After calming down with a few deep breaths, I made my way toward the next set of elevators deeper into the building. The floors had recently been cleaned and were so sleek you could see your reflection in the dark tiles. You had to go through another layer of security, whom you had to show your pass to. I fumbled around my purse, feeling around my Pokeballs for reassurance that they were still there before I pulled out the keycard. It was odd, not having them around my waist. Plus, dresses were nice, but this one having no pockets to shove my stuff into was really annoying.

Mel had told me there would be a lounge of some sort on the 21st floor of Jubilee Tower, so that's where I was headed. It took me a while to figure out what room HEC1229 was, it was nothing a few minutes of searching and asking around didn't fix. The room had been filled with snacks like chips, cookies and charcuterie, and with drinks including champagne. It felt weird to me that this entire thing felt more like a party than someplace to mourn; I hoped Craig's family wouldn't be too offended.

Across the room were plenty of sponsored trainers I only knew by name, or I'd seen their faces on the website. There were also people familiar to me, like Bobby, Ramon, and Sharon. Even Aubri was with them, which meant the sky must have been falling. Just like me, they were all dressed like this was a funeral. Dark colors without too much flashiness, save for a golden watch around Bobby's wrist. They'd all been close to Craig— closer than even me. Aubri, in particular, still seemed utterly destroyed by his death and was quiet, her usual stoic confidence vaporized from her face. Aside from the numerous scars and the missing fingers and eye, you'd think she was a different person.

They seemed to be engrossed in some deep conversation, or at least that was until Ramon noticed me grab a bottle of water and I was met with his toothy, juvenile grin.

"Grace!" He waved and beamed as if he was genuinely happy to see me. Wait, maybe he was. We were kind of friends, and it had been a while. "Come over here and sit with us!"

Right. Right. Socializing. Okay, Grace, you're a person. You're just a person just like them. You can do this.

"H—hi!"

My voice cracked.

—

For what felt like the thousandth time, Maylene peeked her head around the wall of the stage entrance and scanned the sea of people ahead of her. Even as a Gym Leader, she'd never fathomed being in front of so many. This was a big jump from a few self-contained press conferences and doing her job in front of a few hundred to a few thousand at best when the battle was really interesting. Even if she wasn't a designated speaker and all she'd have to do was stand or sit respectfully at appropriate times, it was still a little intimidating. Not that this was her main concern at the moment. Maylene's suit felt a little tight around the neck, and she couldn't help but loosen her collar every minute.

"Didn't you say she'd be inside?" Gardenia's voice rang out behind her and made her jump a little. All of her fellow Gym Leaders were backstage with her. The Elite Four and Cynthia would arrive later, though she'd been informed the latter was taking a thirty-minute power nap, at the moment. She was being worked to the bone. "You poking your head out like that kind of makes us look unprofessional. Today's all about image."

Maylene straightened her suit around her waist and fixed up her tie. "I can't help but look anyway."

"Even if she was out here, you wouldn't be able to find her in the crowd no matter how good your eyesight is, Maymay." Nia wrapped a hand around her shoulder and dragged her back in. "Now come on, have some patience. I said I'd help you, right?"

"Yeah…" she trailed off. "And I'd be able to find her aura, it's very distinct." That might have been the wrong way to put it. "Or I guess I just know what it feels like by heart now."

"Oooh, how romantic," Gardenia teased.

Maylene growled in a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. "Nia. Not so loud!" She was still the only Gym Leader who knew about Grace.

They were back in the waiting room with their colleagues now. It had been built up in the last few weeks as a luxurious retreat, adorned with plush seating, soft ambient lighting, and plenty of drinks and food. Even the ground below their feet was velvet carpet. Poketch must have splurged so much money on today that the League was going to owe them a huge favor. There were conversations happening all around, but they were all respectfully quiet. Even Wake. He was speaking to Fantina about the state of Hearthome and listening to her vent about retirement as she sipped on some champagne. While her Pokemon were hidden well from the naked eye and exuded no cold, Maylene easily parsed through her shadow and noticed the multiple ghosts hidden within.

Byron was sitting with Roark in silence. His usually wild hair was neatly combed, a stark contrast to his typically disheveled appearance. Even here, he had his trusted shovel with him leaning against his leg. He asked his son if he was doing alright, and Roark just nodded as he nervously adjusted his glasses.

Since Volkner's social battery had run out long ago, he was just lying down on one of the couches, not caring about his suit getting all wrinkled. Plus, today was a bit of a double-whammy for him. Not only had he been close friends with Craig, but he was also sulking about breaking up with Jasmine.

She'd come to talk to him earlier, and they had parted ways amicably. They'd both known this would happen eventually, but it had been earlier than he thought it'd be. Maylene remembered how he would look so pleased at plans they'd made to spend the majority of the summer together in a resort on the Battle Frontier, even going as far as saying he would skip the Conference after the first day to spend as much time with her as possible. Of course, that had been before Team Galactic had begun to ramp up, and far before the bombs.

Wake had told him about how there were plenty of fishes in the sea, that he'd find another girl sooner rather than later, but that hadn't helped Maylene's defeatist friend much. Still, she was sure he'd get over it within the next few weeks.

Gardenia took her seat next to a sullen and downtrodden Candice, gently rubbing her back. She pushed her best friend's head back on her shoulder and kissed her forehead, telling her everything was going to be okay. Ever since Maylene had realized she was in love with Grace, she'd looked at the two a little differently. Gardenia reminded her a little of herself, especially when it was obvious she'd restrained herself at multiple opportunities in the years she'd seen the two girls interact. It kind of looked like Gardenia was in love with her, but Maylene wasn't a hundred percent sure just yet.

The Gym Leader took a seat on the opposite side of Candice and looked up at her friend's face. She hadn't cried in days and had been doing really well, at least until today had come to remind her what she had lost. Craig had been her first crush, and while he hadn't reciprocated at all due to her age and having known her since she'd been just a little kid watching her grandmother's Gym Battles, Maylene would be the first to know one did not choose where the heart decided to take them. Candice's eyes were red and puffy. Every couple of minutes, she would start sobbing and struggle to take full breaths. Where she would usually be laughing, throwing out jokes, and being the heart of the room, here she was quiet, desperate to blend into the background and just get through this day.

Since Gardenia had 'operation help Candice grieve' under control for now, Maylene grabbed her phone again. There was no new text from Grace, of course. Maylene found herself getting greedier and greedier with her crush's attention, but things had been weird lately. She'd racked her mind the entire night, desperate to know what could have been the reason for the sudden distance between them, and gotten nightmares about Grace figuring out she was in love with her and reacting in all sorts of horrifying ways that were completely out of character, like calling her disgusting for falling in love with a taken girl.

They were stupid dreams, but they terrified her nonetheless.

Maylene contemplated sending another text, but decided to put the phone away for now. One hour remained until they had to go on stage. Then around an hour and a half of speeches, and finally, she'd be able to have this conversation. It wasn't like she hadn't liked Craig— who hadn't? What Grace was going to tell her had just consumed her mind to the point where she found it difficult to worry about anything else, at the moment.

Time was ticking agonizingly slowly, but eventually the Elite Four got here. Lucian first, with a long, confident stride and a polite greeting addressed to them all. Accompanying him was his one-eyed Alakazam, bitter and sour-faced as always. Maylene knew the psychic was coordinating security, but maybe he was on a break. Aaron followed soon after, his usual childlike wonder gone and having been replaced by a hardy look. His body was wracked by the occasional shiver. Flint seemed the same as usual, loud and boisterous to the point that Gardenia had to glare at him to quiet down. Maylene didn't know how one could have fought a literal God, seen Craig die, and remained in such high spirits, but that was probably just a Flint thing. Bertha, the last due to her aching bones, had always made Maylene somewhat nervous because of how strict she was. Her scarf, a memento from her father who had died in the war, clashed heavily with her dark frilly dress, but she never went anywhere without it.

Bertha wrinkled her nose. "Volkner, do us all a favor and get up." When he replied with a tired groan, she shook her head in disappointment and phrased it another way. "Don't you see how old I am? A frail woman such as I needs a place to sit."

"There's plenty of space to go around." Volkner's voice came out muffled due to the pillow. It was true that there were more couches all over the room, some of them even empty.

Unbothered, she adjusted her brown scarf and sat on his feet until he finally decided to sit up with an exaggerated howl of pain. "Goodness gracious, young people these days. And fix that hair, will you?"

"Does he need to, really?" Flint came up behind him and ruffled a hand through his hair. His friend didn't even have the energy to fight back. "It wouldn't be Volkner without a horrible bedhead."

"Alakazam can do it for him," Fantina said, her accent thick as she clasped both hands together around her glass. "Poor thing."

Fantina, I hold a great deal of respect for you; however, I must convey with complete sincerity that I would rather die a horrible, agonizing death, Alakazam said without an ounce of hesitation.

"Wow! Thanks, Alakazam," Volkner sarcastically whined. "Much appreciated!"

I didn't ask, he said.

"Well, what's this, his second-ever breakup?" Byron chimed in. He placed his chin on his shovel's handle and smiled. "Those always tough, when you're a young'un."

"Hmhm. You think you'll do better than your first, and you're dejected when they end early anyway." Flint nodded with a pensive look and a hand on his chin.

Bertha clicked her tongue. "That's just because you're a slob. I ought to get a cane one of these days to whip you up into a proper man."

The fire type specialist chuckled. "What's the saying again? If they can't handle me at my worst, they don't deserve me at my best," he said with a hand on his chin.

"Your 'best' is like putting an anchor around your would-be girlfriend's neck," Bertha said, unimpressed. "Back to the topic at hand. Volkner, no matter how dejected you are, this ceremony is about paying respects. There are news crews from foreign countries here, and the League's image will not suffer because little Volkner feels sad."

"I get it, I get it!" Volkner got up as he waved an annoyed hand. "I'll fix myself up." He shuffled toward the bathroom with a seemingly endless sigh. The room quieted down once he left, something Gardenia was endlessly grateful for.

Maylene was, too. All this talk about breakups was making her uncomfortable. For no reason at all. Once Lucian finished checking in with the event organizers on his phone— they were going to run out of a certain type of cheese— he made his way to Maylene and spared her an apologetic look.

"Maylene, my dear; I must warn you." He crouched and looked up at her, his purple hair glistening with every subtle movement. "Your father is here."

Byron's grip on his shovel tightened. "What's he want?"

They'd all heard about Oscar's behavior lately. While Maylene mostly vented to Grace or Cecilia, her support system was a wide net. Their opinions of him had lowered considerably since he had been back in Sinnoh. The older Gym Leaders had only known Oscar as their coworker. Tough, but fair, and most of all, reliable. They hadn't known Oscar the father. Even when she was seen with him, he never acted out or lashed out in public; he'd curated his image well.

"Officially, to pay his respects to Craig. He fought him numerous times and found him an excellent battling partner," Lucian explained. "I doubt you'll have to interact with him. As he is no longer a Gym Leader, he does not have access to this area. I do believe Poketch has given him a pass to their building, though."

Maylene shared a worried glance with Gardenia. With his aura, he'd be able to find her wherever she went.

"It's a pressure tactic," Roark said. "Just by being here, he ruins her day. He might have thought that she'd be a speaker and that he could make her mess up."

"Well, I better get going, then." Byron stood up and hoisted his shovel over his shoulder. Maylene looked at him like he was crazy. "What?" he asked. "I just want to talk to him, that's all."

"Don't get into a fight," Bertha warned without as much as a second glance.

Maylene wrung her hands together so strongly she would have broken any other human's. "You'd lose handily. I appreciate the sentiment, though."

"...I'd get at least one good hit in." Byron sat back down and scratched the back of his neck.

"You would need a hospital in seconds," Bertha said.

What could Maylene do now? It wasn't like they could force him out without creating a scene. A confrontation was probably coming, one she could avoid if she stayed holed up in here until she could go back to her Gym. Part of her thought she could call Grace over here instead, but would she bail at the sudden change of plan, or think it was a trap of some kind? She knew Grace was weird with the spots she liked to have important moments or conversations in. What if this was the last opportunity Maylene would get—

"Well, Maylene was planning on meeting a friend without all of us bothering her about it here," Gardenia made Maylene panic. For a moment, she thought the grass type specialist would reveal her crush. "It kind of throws a wrench into her plans."

"A friend?" Fantina smiled. You didn't have to let her continue to see that she was curious.

"J—just a friend, yeah. Nothing special." Maylene had stuttered and slurred a few of her words, which made Fantina even more curious. "I'll manage, somehow."

"I'll go with you." Candice's voice was so low that Maylene was pretty sure she was the only one who'd caught what she had said. "Your dad's a creep; I'll beat him up." A little louder, this time.

Nia nodded and ignored Bertha's japing. "I was going to say the same thing! The thing about abusers like Oscar is that they want to preserve their squeaky-clean image. As long as you're in public and you have people around you, it should be fine."

The conversation would have continued had Alakazam not cleared his throat. The Champion is up and will be arriving shortly, he said, idly staring at one of his spoons. Get ready.

—

"The day I met him, he showed me around the place. Told me it didn't matter if I had really common Pokémon and that we'd get far through hard work." Ramon's face was softened by a hint of nostalgia, his eyes distant as the memory had shaped him deeply. "I still can't believe he's gone. I'll miss him."

"Yeah…" I whispered.

"He was the model we followed to strive to be better." Bobby spoke of the dead in hushed tones, I had learned. It was no different for Craig. "Especially Aubri—"

"Shut it," she snapped. Even now, the rasp in her voice due to a lung injury was surprising. It certainly made her capture people's attention easier. "I'm not here because I want to be involved in these conversations."

"Then why are you here?" Ramon asked.

"Because… because I just enjoy listening. It makes it feel like he's still here."

The elevator dinged, and we all made our way toward the lobby. While they had talked my ear off, it had been fun to listen to old stories about Craig. Even years ago, he'd been dependable enough to have made a mark on so many trainers. Others I hadn't known had joined in upstairs to chime in with their own experiences with him. He'd touched so many lives it was difficult to fathom. That was the tale of a man whose story would resonate for generations, whispered among the lips of those who sought to embody his spirit or his perseverance. He'd be a beacon for all Sinnohan Trainers for decades to come.

I wanted my own life to leave a similar mark on the world. Alas, so far, I hadn't done a great job, and instead of going out there and making the world a better place, I was stuck in a prison of my own making, and I had thrown away the key.

Fingers constantly twitching around my waist at the lack of Pokeballs there, we exited the building and were met by thousands of people navigating the plaza. I was lucky my hearing aid was actually the right one, or it would have acted up the entire time. Attendants carrying drinks on plates, guests speaking among themselves, news crews darting between clusters of people— all contributed to the cacophony that filled the expansive space the company had set up.

Things weren't just rosy, though. Despite having my empathy under control, the need to consciously keep it at bay surged in my mind. Like having to keep a hand pressed on an old wound.

That sure is a sad way to put it. That was my gift to you! One that saved your hide multiple times! Don't you go calling it a wound!

Today of all days? Okay, maybe I didn't need to compare it to a wound, but the mild headache all these people brought me wasn't helping things. Luckily most of the attention was kept by Aubri's sombre, scarred visage and not me. Under any other circumstances, I would have been up to talking to reporters. Melody and my time with Poketch had given me a decent amount of media training; the issue was that it just wasn't a good day. Mesprit should have known this.

Oh, don't mind me, I'm just watching! Mesprit started to hum a little song that reverberated around my brain. Good luck today, Grace! It sure will be enter— err, I mean, I hope you manage to get through to that other human girl!

You know that just because you caught yourself doesn't mean I didn't understand what you were going to say, right? I thought back as I bit my lip. Whatever. Just stay quiet today, and you'll be able to harass me after. Things should only start improving from here.

Sure! The sarcasm was almost physical and nearly made me miss a step.

It was Bobby who caught me by the arm, his grip strong despite his thin stature. I ignored the urge to pull away, one so harsh I might have bruised my arm. "You okay, Grace?" Due to how loud everyone was, it was tough to parse out his words. "You've seemed off since we met."

I frowned. What was up with me? That wasn't how I usually reacted to touch— and it had nothing to do with intent, or the fact that Bobby was a guy. "I'm okay." I could only muster a whisper none of them heard. It wasn't at all a feeling of repulsion, but a want to keep him safe. As if he'd just touched something radioactive. When glancing at the palm of his hand, it seemed dark. Sullied.

"Maybe it's because you orchestrated a palace coup to fuck her over, fucking me in the process." Aubri shoved her hands deeply into the pockets of her jacket, and her lips pressed together.

"No, no, we already worked out all of that. It's just a mild headache," I said. To me, that had been a lifetime ago, but to Aubri, it was still a fresh event she was still bitter about.

"Let's get to our seats quickly, then," Ramon said.

While seats in the venue cost way more than your usual ticket, we'd gotten ours for free. They were organized in three rows, each one growing larger the further back you got from the stage. The first was free and reserved for Craig's family and friends. His parents were already there, as were Lauren and three older people I assumed were grandparents. Professor Rowan was also sitting there, so I assumed they must have known each other well. Craig's Pokemon were to the side— even the massive Gyarados, whose serpentine body stretched for dozens of feet. There were plenty of other people I didn't know, but the only one I knew by name was Sarah Newman, easily spotted due to her white hair and her getup. It was as if she'd just gotten out of bed and still wore whatever she'd slept with— comfortable shorts and a shirt bigger than she was.

"Yikes. She sticks out like a sore thumb," Ramon whispered.

She did. A dot of colors among respectful, dark clothes that made her stand out and garner a lot of attention. She was currently ignoring a pair of reporters I recognized from the Solaceon Tournament. It was funny how small the world was.

The second row of seats was ours, and would be filled with Poketch sponsees and high-ranking employees. This was where the company's founder— Remington McMillan— would sit along with the rest of the board, including his son Landis. One of them, whose name had slipped my mind, was being pushed in a wheelchair toward his seat, and he looked utterly lost. This was one of the esteemed board members? He looked practically senile!

Either way, this was where we'd be sitting. Bobby and I were pretty far up there due to how important we were. He looked in his element here, far more comfortable than I was. Next to me was Craig's liaison, whose name I only knew thanks to Melody. Jonathan Pierremont. He looked to be in his fifties and had followed Craig along his entire career within the company. Needless to say, the death had hit him hard. Unfortunately, while dad was an engineer for Poketch with a decent amount of responsibility, his seat would be in a third row.

Which was basically for everybody else.

Chairs had been set up on the stage where Cynthia, the Elite Four and the Gym Leaders would sit while people spoke of Craig. I was pretty sure the only person who was going to speak in that group besides Cynthia was Volkner.

Five minutes to the first speech by Cynthia. My phone dinged, which wasn't unusual. My friends were talking to each other through our group chat and had sent numerous messages since we'd arrived—

Maylene - just a heads up my father is here somewhere. If you see him dont threaten to kill him. he wants attention

Maylene - to make a scene and be seen as the victim to better his position and make people who would defend me look bad

Seriously? Did that piece of shit have no limits or what? I knew he wouldn't learn his lesson after only being pushed out of the gym, but didn't he have another kid on the way? A pregnant wife to take care of instead of playing these meaningless games? If he wanted to be a leader so bad, someone people looked up to again, he could start by volunteering to help Snowpointers get back on their feet. Someone with Pokemon of his level and with aura would be a great help to rebuild the city's port.

Obviously, Oscar wanted none of that. Because he was a pathetic narcissist who deserved to die from mysterious circumstances.

You - I wouldn't threaten to kill him.

Maylene - YES U WOUDL U DINGUS

You - Maybe just a tiny bit.

You - Are you going to be okay? Do you need help?

Maylene - its fine just stay put. he wont start anything with you so close to the ceremony starting. and after that well be together anyuway. Candice and Nia r bringing me inside.

You - Okay. Be safe.

By the time we were done texting, an organizer hastily walked onto the stage. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Protector of the frontier, Commander-in-Chief of the armed forces; the first Champion of the Sinnohan Republic, Cynthia Collins, along with her Elite Four and Gym Leaders," he announced in a respectful tone. He couldn't sound too excited.

The nascent applause disappeared the moment Cynthia showed herself. The Champion's steps rang true; she commanded absolute silence over the crowd. There was not even a single word spoken. Cynthia walked in long strides, her familiar black coat billowing behind her in the wind. Following her first was Togekiss— she didn't go anywhere without him anymore— then the Elite Four in pairs of two in their order of perceived strength. Lucian and Flint first, then Bertha and Aaron. Finally, the Gym Leaders by their seniority— how long they had held the position. That meant Fantina was first and Maylene last—

Anxiety seized me to the very core of my being when I saw her. She was wearing a black suit, its lines crisp and sharp. It clung to her shoulders and was tight around her waistline. Somehow I hadn't expected her to wear one of those, but then again, she didn't really like feminine clothing. It looked quite good on her.

She scanned the crowd, and somehow she found me in an instant. Our eyes locked for a moment before she loosened her collar, and then she looked forward and filed into the final chair left for her.

Only Cynthia remained standing on the podium. She moved the microphone attached to it up and began to speak. "Citizens of Sinnoh." I was struck by how clear and confident her voice was, nothing like how it had been when she'd left the Distortion World. She began by thanking both Poketch and Kanto-Johto for having made this event possible, followed, of course, by her own League employees. Knowing dad, he probably would have grumbled at the ordering there.

"Of course, we gather here today to celebrate Craig Goodwill's life. It is so important for us to all remember that without him in Coronet to stop Team Galactic's nefarious plans, devastation would have befallen our beloved country." Almost as if on cue, the row of flags on back of the stage all glistened and flapped in the wind. Was Togekiss the one doing all of that stuff? To be honest, I'd nearly forgotten the fairy was on stage, and that was probably the case for everyone here. "I will not mince words with you all, this year has been a tough one for all involved. Your rights were sacrificed, the economy is still reeling, and over twelve thousand people died in the largest scale terrorist attack Sinnoh had ever known since the Great War."

She paused, eyes gleaming with determination, hands gripping the side of her lectern. "Sinnoh reels, but it remains standing. We remain standing. It is perseverance that defined much of Craig's life, much like it encompasses Sinnoh. A land marked by its harsh, unyielding terrain, where the biting cold winds sweep across the landscape, and little of our land is arable. Like everyone else, he began at the age of fifteen…"

Cynthia went into much of Craig's life, focusing on the greatest moments and qualities. Negotiating with a known herd of aggressive Hippowdon off-route to capture his own, charming them over many days. His prowess at bringing people together and networking, his incredible victory over Candice's grandmother and his viral clip that followed, his negotiating skills that always had both parties winning something…

Nearly all of it was new to me, but she basked his life in love and reverence possibly never before given to anyone other than another Champion. I met eyes with Maylene a few times during the speech, and each and every time, it felt like my soul was trying to jump out of my skin. I used to be able to have her look at me or talk to me and be fine. It was fine. But ever since I'd realized she liked me, things hadn't been the same. Beyond the obvious reasons of 'it wasn't like that with her' and 'today was going to be a super difficult conversation,' I just hated this constant anxiety wrapping around me like an Ekans.

"And I want to extend my deepest gratitude to Benjamin and Lilianna Goodwill for raising a man of such unwavering moral fiber," Cynthia said, gesturing at the two parents. "I am sorry for your loss, I truly am. Your son was a great man, and Sinnoh will find itself lacking without him." She turned back toward the audience. "Thank you."

Thunderous applause and whistling erupted, mostly from behind us in the third row. While his family did clap, it was more of a polite applause than anything, from what I could see if I craned my neck. It was a hell of a speech, but it was tainted by the context in which it was given. Draped in the flag, fundraising, and most of all, the fact that it was obviously being used as a common loss to unite the country in a time of crisis.

But what could you do?

Next came Craig's family. Both of his parents went onto the stage, followed closely by Lauren and her grandparents. His father looked a lot like him. Chubbier and older, but the same. It took me a while to understand that Lilianna wouldn't speak. Couldn't speak. Her breaths were a quivering mess, and she looked like she was about to burst into tears. Lauren looked dejected and slightly angry. Her face occasionally twitched, her jaw was clenched, and her eyes had narrowed into a mild glare directed at the crowd, piercing enough for even me to feel guilty.

Benjamin's approach was a more somber speech. One of loss and how he'd miss the little moments with his son. The way he heard him work in his room every time he passed through that hallway, a constant in their lives, as if Craig had vowed to snatch his destiny into his own hands and molded it into his own. How it had eroded at his mental health like waves worn down a cliff. The weeks where nothing had gone right, the days where he argued with Roxie, the sheer toll that being great had brought upon his body and mind.

How he learned sign language for hours on end as a child just in case Lauren was mute to the point that his grades started to slip— just for her to speak her first words at the age of three and a half anyway. The way he always refused to swear around children, and how he loved imparting knowledge to them. The nights as a young child when he'd kept his father and mother up, forcing them to watch footage of the battles he found interesting. He got mad whenever it looked like they weren't paying attention. How he dreamed of fighting and besting every Champion and how giddy he'd been watching footage of the Galarian Champion's battles because he was certain that a few more years would see him become the greatest the world had ever seen in competitive battling.

It went on. And on. And on. The little things that made a person whole, each note driving the stake further into our hearts. While Cynthia asked Sinnoh to remember Craig the symbol, his family was asking the country to remember Craig the person.

And damn it.

That got me. That really got me.

I wiped my eyes with my arm and sniffled. It was never fair. This one didn't get as much applause, but it was the most effective on Craig's fellow trainers. I was pretty sure the majority of them had burst into tears, Bobby included. Not just a few tears, either. He was ugly crying, sobbing into his hands at the devastating loss.

I wasn't sure his death had actually hit a lot of trainers that knew him. Until this very moment.

—

Maylene had never seen Candice cry this hard. She thought her friend might have needed to be taken off the stage, at least until her nails sank into her thighs through the fabric of her pants, and she gently closed her eyes. The pace of her breaths took a slow, deliberate rhythm as if she was trying to steady herself, to pull back from the edge of overwhelming emotion. By the time Craig's family had stepped off the stage, Candice had brought herself back from the brink.

Both Gardenia and Volkner checked in on her, being the ones sitting on both her flanks. The latter was going to speak soon, right after another one of Craig's friends went through.

"I'm fine. I'm gonna be okay," Candice said. Without a microphone to carry their voices further, they could speak freely as long as they kept it down and they didn't do it while someone was giving their own eulogy. "Eugh. That would have been a good cry to let all of the feelings out."

"Can't look bad in front of the crowd," Volkner said with a familiar sigh.

"These things are hard on your heart," the ice type Gym Leader said. "Grandma used to say that."

Maylene had gotten teary-eyed, but her childhood had trained her to keep those in, or it'd make Oscar angrier. Of course, sometimes the dam had to break, and it just didn't work. That was what had happened at her Gym when she'd tried to take all of the work for herself. Recalling the memory made her glance at Grace again, and Maylene found her crying. Her entire body tensed, and alarm bells rang in her head— like she was going into fight or flight mode. She felt a hand on her arm, and the buzzing in her ears slowly faded into the background.

Gardenia looked at her with a gentle smile. "Relax, the next speech is starting."

Maylene's eyes flickered to the lectern, where she saw Sarah Newman lean against the polished wood, her grip relaxed and hand scratching the back of her head as if she didn't know what to say—

—

"Um. I didn't really come here with a speech in mind, or anything," Sarah Newman said, her voice nearly void of emotion. While I knew about her, this was the first time I'd heard her speak. A small commotion stirred through the crowd as people stared at each other as if this was a bit of some sort. "I'm not really good at these."

Why would you go up there and not know what to say? Just having her up there was giving me mild second-hand embarrassment. Especially when I knew from Melody that she'd demanded to be put on the speaking schedule.

"Do you know her?" I asked as I leaned toward Bobby.

"Not really. She has her own friends, but I never knew her as anything more than Craig's old flame," he whispered. "She wasn't really involved in the Poketch orbit."

Sarah Newman tapped her finger against the wooden podium. "My name's Sarah Newman. I'm Craig's best friend and rival." She took a breath, slowly finding her footing. "Craig and I, we watched a lot of battles together, and we battled too, of course. That's when we were the closest. Pokemon Training and battling was our common ground."

Another round of murmurs, this time probably from people asking themselves why she was introducing herself or stating the obvious. But there was something special in that, or at least I thought so.

"When we were kids, we used to fight over who'd be the Champion and who would be our second in command in the Elite Four." Sarah looked behind her; at Flint, Bertha, Lucian, Aaron, and Cynthia. "We didn't have plans or anything, you know? But, uh, we were children. It was just throwing a bunch of stuff that sounded good at the wall."

There was a pause, like she had lost her train of thought. All of a sudden, she changed the topic. "Craig— Craig was the kind of guy whose mere presence could just breathe new life into you. Having him at your side just made you more confident. You know, if you were anxious, or you were scared, he'd always be there to smile at you and give you a hand. I think there's something beautiful about that." Sarah shook her head with a snort. "It's silly. He'd always say to just see things through no matter what. That by the end it wouldn't seem as bad, and what you learned from failing more than made up for how shit you'd feel for a few days." There was a slight gasp in the crowd at the swear. This was televised. "Of course, more often than not, he didn't apply that to himself. It took him a while to learn, but the words— he, uh, he truly meant the words. I think. I know."

She pulled at a strand of her hair in front of her nearly-covered eyes. "He was outgoing. He was loud. And— and he could be really funny. Sometimes. And there was—there was something about him; he could walk into a room and immediately read the pulse of it, you know? He could just tune right in. He would know x, y, z, what they wanted and how to make them walk out of there happier than they were when they'd entered. He was just that magnetic." Sarah adjusted the microphone a little closer to her mouth. "He was my first true friend, I think. Pushed me to heights I would never have reached without that competition. Made me want to be a better person who helped people for the sake of helping them and to see them as more than little sock puppets I could punch to soak in more battling experience."

"And you know, I didn't— I don't really like how we drifted apart for so many years." Her bottom lip quivered. "All because of some fight. I could have texted him sooner, you know? I mean, I needed time to cool off, but then he blocked me, and things just got so complicated. And I had— I just— I don't know. It's like— okay, we fought. Who cares? I love you." A nervous laugh left her lips, and a few tears rolled down her cheek. "I love you," she repeated. "That's it, I guess. I'm done. Thanks for listening."

She released her Swanna, hopped on her back, and just… flew off.

I was one of the few who cried for that one.

—

An hour and a half of speeches had never felt so paradoxical— swift in passing, yet somehow drawn out. When Remington McMillan finally delivered his closing words, Maylene, the other Gym Leaders, and the Elite Four formed a solemn line behind Cynthia, hands clasped behind their backs. Cynthia stood at the front, the Elite Four following in her wake, and the eight Gym Leaders in a final row behind them. All, except Cynthia, bowed in unison, a gesture of gratitude to everyone who had come to honor Craig's memory.

Maylene's legs were numb from sitting for too long. She eyed the crowd leaving in front of her. Most of them would slowly filter out while a minority would stay behind and enjoy what Poketch had to offer them. Supposedly they were going to replay Craig's run of the Conference last year on the projector screen behind them for those who wanted to see. The Gym Leader couldn't see Grace anymore, but she felt her leave and reenter the building.

She'd be waiting.

Back in the waiting room, Cynthia gave them a short spiel about a job well done. Work never stopped for her, even in the wake of Galactic. She'd be going back to the Lily with the rest of her Elites to keep running things, but had given the Gym Leaders the rest of the day off.

Finally, Maylene could go see Grace to hear what she had to say. Both Candice and Gardenia walked at her side, keeping an eye out for her dad. Wherever he was, Oscar was either masking his aura or too far away for her to be able to distinguish him from the crowd.

"So what's this 'bout meeting a friend?" Candice asked, in slightly higher spirits. She was not back to her usual self yet, but this had been closure for her as it had been for many who had come. "Maymay, you look like someone's going to eat you whole. I've never seen you this nervous."

Gardenia shot Maylene a look as she adjusted her hair again, as if to ask if they should tell her. Maylene wasn't sure how to answer. She'd always considered both girls her best friends— people who she rarely hid things from. Unfortunately, Candice was a blabbermouth who couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

"You don't know her," Maylene lied.

"Ooooh, her?" She leaned forward, grinned, and wriggled her eyebrows. "If I don't, then what's the issue? Do you think yours truly will embarrass you?" She placed a hand on her chest in faux indignation. "Does she have a name?"

Okay, she was getting way too curious about this. Maylene could lie about the name and say the first thing that came to her mind, or she could spill the beans to satisfy her. "Gr—" Oh, God, she'd nearly actually said her name. "Hope? Hope." When Candice squinted at her, Maylene finally relented. "Fine, okay! It's Grace Pastel. Happy?"

"Come on, do you want me not to know so bad? I won't tell anyone about your crush, gosh!"

Still focused on the thinning crowd, Gardenia helpfully chimed in. "She's telling the truth, Candice."

"Oh." Her eyes widened, and she gasped. "Wait, what? Excuse me?! Did I miss something— I missed something big, didn't I? Doesn't she have a girlfriend already? Oh man, this is so dramatic!" She clutched her hands to her chest, a look of disbelief and excitement spreading across her face.

"I've been helping her deal with it in my own time," Gardenia explained. "You were… well, dealing with your own issues. Sorry."

"I get it. At least I'm caught up now— wait, how did this happen? Spill the tea!"

Somehow, Candice didn't have to reconcile the fact that the last time she'd regularly spoken with Grace had been to plan her apology to Maylene. Apparently, the last text message they'd shared was Grace sending her condolences about Craig, but communication had been spare post-Coronet, with Grace dealing with all of her issues and Candice having to deal with the massive crisis in Snowpoint. Sure, she'd known that they had ascended Coronet together, but she'd still believed that had been the end of their relationship. Somehow, Candice didn't care at all that it turned her understanding of Maylene's rapport with Grace upside down.

"What can I say, I'm a hopeless romantic," Candice said before barking out a loud laugh. Maylene wanted to shush her, but seeing her friend have such a good time after a tough day was too good to pass up. Her happiness was infectious. "So? What's the plan; come on, fill me in, gals!"

"There's no plan," Maylene said. "Pretty sure I'm about to get rejected prematurely. Not that I was going to even confess." Nothing good could come out of the coming conversation, that was for sure.

They'd almost made it inside the building, now. No signs of Oscar. "Aw, shucks. I thought you two had a date or something."

"Why would we have a date when she has a girlfriend?" Maylene asked.

Candice opened her mouth, but exhaled as she lost her retort. "Fair point. Well, that's a bummer, but you should try to remain optimistic! Maybe things won't be catastrophic!"

"Let's— manage her expectations here," Gardenia cut in.

"Ahhh, Nia. Always the pragmatist to rein me in and ruin my fun. Wait, we should be, like, the devil and angel on her shoulders giving her love advice."

Nia couldn't help but smile and look at her fondly. "Your advice would just be to confess immediately."

"N—no. My advice would be to lock all three girls into a room and not let them out until something happened," Candice said. Maylene felt her face grow warm. "Not that. Come on, I wasn't actually making an innuendo, okay, don't yell at me!"

"I wasn't going to yell…"

"What's this?" her friend poked her in the arm. "Maymay no longer gets mad at those? Nia, this is a transformation of the highest order! I'm liking this new gay Maylene already."

The teasing was relentless, and Gardenia enjoyed it too. Or maybe she just enjoyed whatever came out of Candice's silly mouth. Maylene was pretty sure she was in love, now that she'd gotten a better look at the two. Was that why Nia had felt so compelled to help her, even when it got in the way of work? They'd known each other since they were fifteen, and they were both nineteen now. Maylene hoped she would know Grace just as long; just being by her side and here to support her was enough for her.

At last, they were face to face with the wide glass doors of the entrance. Maylene could feel Grace's presence thrumming inside like a bonfire.

"Are you sure I don't look stupid?" Maylene desperately asked.

"What, no! You look dapper!" Gardenia clapped her back and pushed her forward. "Go ahead, Maymay. You can do this! And remember, if your dad somehow finds you, just ignore him and call us. We'll come inside a few minutes after you and keep an eye out."

"We'll be rooting for you!" Candice said. "Turn up the charm! Wink at her and speak with a sultry voice—" she yelped when Gardenia pinched the side of her arm. "Ow, ow, ow. Okay, don't do that! Be yourself!"

Security let her in without a fuss thanks to her ranking as a Gym Leader. Breathe in, breathe out. Okay. Maylene felt nervous, but strangely, now that the moment had come, she felt a lot calmer than she'd been stewing up on that stage with only ideas of what could happen to keep her company. As planned, Grace had been waiting at their designated meeting spot— a sort of waiting area inside of the Poketch building with a bunch of couches and magazines years out of date. 'Cynthia's Democratic Reforms: What You Need To Know' and 'New Economic Boom: How Free Trade Brought Riches To Sinnoh' were on top of the pile.

Grace wasn't sitting. She was so focused on her own thoughts that she hadn't seen Maylene coming. The short necklace she'd been wearing earlier was no longer there, meaning she had recalled Meltan. Her leg was repeatedly bouncing beneath her dress. It was a simple dark dress that flowed down to her tibia, right above where her burn scars ended. The fabric swayed slightly with each restless movement. Her hair was different; it cascaded down her back in curls instead of being straight, and—

Was she wearing lip gloss?

She was. Her teeth were firmly clamped down on her glittering bottom lip. Maylene froze for a few seconds, hypnotized by the sheen that caught the bright lights in the ceiling. Don't just watch her like a weirdo. Say something. But Maylene wanted a moment to take it all in, just in case this was the last time they'd see each other. To sear the image into her brain so she could recall it every time she closed her eyes.

No. She had to speak up.

"Uh—"

"Gah!" Grace jumped, causing a few faces to turn her way. With a hand halfway into her black purse, she sighed in relief. "S—sorry. I wasn't expecting you to get here so fast. I—I thought you'd have Gym Leader stuff to deal with or something."

Maylene noticed that Grace struggled to look her in the eye when it was usually the opposite. Was it okay to act how she usually did? Should she be serious? Candice had said to be herself… "Sorry for sneaking up on you. Are you alright? I saw you cry earlier, so I was worried."

"Oh, I'm fine. I just— some of the speeches got to me, I guess. I'll miss Craig and the weight he had on this world. It was a very nice shape," she quietly spoke.

Maylene didn't really know what the whole deal with shapes was. She knew what it generally meant, but it was a cute way to phrase it and was shaped by Grace's view of the world.

"Nothing about Oscar?" Grace asked. She clenched her burned arm and squeezed.

"No. I think he's actually laying off, at least for now. So I doubt we'll be interrupted," Maylene said.

For a moment, Maylene thought she was going to start speaking about her texts, and she braced herself with a wince. "So. A suit, huh?"

"Oh, this old thing?" She let out a nervous laugh, and her heart skipped a beat. "Yeah. Never been comfortable in dresses; I know it's weird—"

"It's not, it fits you really well; you should wear what you like."

A warm feeling fluttered up her stomach. Maylene hesitated for a moment, then blurted out, "your lips look nice too. I mean you look nice too." No answer. She quickly cleared her throat to get through the awkward silence. "I like the hair. Your hair's nice. Uh. Sorry."

"Oh. Right, the gloss." It was as if pressure stopped choking her when she found out why Maylene had commented on her lips. "I was wearing some yesterday too, so… it's not special or anything. I figured I'd come in the same outfit." Grace looked at herself, then pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. "Uh, we should get going."

"Where?"

"This isn't a great spot to talk. Too many people," Grace said. "Let's go upstairs; I'm pretty sure they'll let you through. There are some employees and trainers up there now that the speeches are done, but we can find an empty room somewhere. I wish we could do it at your Gym, though…" she finished with a murmur.

Maylene followed her in a silence so thick she found it difficult to take full breaths. Grace wasn't looking at her. Not even when they were in the elevator, or when Maylene called out to her to tell her about Candice doing okay in an attempt to make small talk before they'd have to start the big conversation. She wanted to delay, to ask her to spend a little time with her with no strings attached, to tell her that actually, everything was fine and she didn't need any clarification if that meant she would never be close to Grace again. They struggled for a bit to find a place they could use. Grace tried some kind of private room for sponsored trainers, but there were people there talking already.

And so, they found themselves not in the cushy executive rooms Maylene had expected from Poketch, but in a bathroom near the ends of Jubilee Tower made for high-ranking people in the company. She released her Electivire and Togekiss, instructed them to not let anyone in, and then closed the door.

There would be no delaying. That was the sentiment that sank into Maylene's mind as Grace turned toward her, eyes fixated on the floor. She remained right next to the door, clinging to it as if she'd need an escape route.

Maylene hoped she was ready to take whatever came next.

—

It was so quiet.

It was a certain kind of quiet. Not the one where you literally couldn't hear anything— I could, even though I was deaf in one ear. It was a quiet that ate away at you and wanted to forcefully drag the words out of your mouth. There was the quiet, constant dripping of a leaky faucet in one of the sinks. The faint hum of the air conditioning whispered through the air, one that grew louder and louder as if to demand retribution for my lack of honesty. My ear rang deafeningly loudly as I let go of the door handle. The bright, white lights shone over Maylene, but I didn't see her. Couldn't see her. For the past ten minutes, all I'd seen was the lower half of her body.

"There's—" the words died in my throat. Stick to the plan no matter how painful it is. "There's something I have to tell you before we begin. First, I'm sorry for avoiding you this past week while keeping you in the dark. It was wrong of me, and I should have been better." The apology came easy after the first bump in the road.

"You already apologized," Maylene said. "It's okay."

Why was she speaking to me like that? Why was she never angry at me? Not even her body had reacted negatively beyond the subtle, nervous movement of her fingers. "I still felt the need to say it in person. Texting it is a coward's way of doing things, and that's what I was for a week. A coward." I saw her shuffle her feet. Dark men's shoes that looked a little too big for her. "Anyway, I guess I should start at the beginning."

I waited to see if she had a question. There were none, so I followed my mental flowchart.

"There's this thing about me. It's hard to explain— no, it's easy to explain, but it's difficult to say." Damn it, I was already tripping up over my words. "I think that the fact I never experienced any true friendships or love before this year began, combined with everything that happened with all the danger and the death, it makes me get attached to people very easily. To an unhealthy degree. To the point where not having them in my life can drain me of all of my energy and can be physically painful."

Again, no reaction. Was she waiting until I was finished entirely? That was the best-case scenario due to having so few deviations.

"Last week was when I realized how bad it actually was. And, uh, Cecilia kind of figured it would be best for us to take a break." Maylene tensed up at that, and I nearly looked up at her before reining myself in.

"A break?" she asked. "Was— was it my—"

"No!" My fists clenched as I yelled. My voice echoed on the walls and mirrors of the bathroom. "No. It wasn't because of you. The decision was Cecilia's, and at the time I thought my world was ending, but I see now that it was the right decision. So— so I've been taking it one day at a time. Healing. The first two days were the hardest, but my friends pulled me out of that dark place. I'll be talking to a therapist in a few days to fix myself, and doing things away from them. So I can learn what it's like to be normal."

Maylene's hands gripped the side of her pants. "What does that mean for us?"

"I don't think we should see each other that regularly until I am fixed," I hesitantly declared. Every word felt like someone was pulling nails off my fingers.

"But— how long will that take?" she asked, desperation leaking through her voice. "You're leaving in a few months! I—I can help you, Grace. I can teach you what it's like—"

"No. You can't." The taste of metal spread through my mouth. "Maylene, I don't think you understand. I'm a mess, okay? I'm broken. You've been doing so well lately with your Gym, and I would just drag you down. Chip away at you like some kind of disease. Slow at first, but then you'd blink and realize how I fucked up your life. You'd be even worse than most, really, because you're special to me. It's like if I have you, I'd need to have all of you. All the time. I wouldn't be able to slam the brakes. I can't live without having someone, and it'll feel like any time not spent with you might be wasted, or maybe I still feel like I only have a set amount of time before the world ends, or both, or… or…" I finished, nearly out of breath. I had nearly veered off-course; distractions weren't something I could afford. Sweat dripped down my forehead and onto the pristine floor.

"Why won't you look at me?" she asked. Why did she ask that? That wasn't— what was the relevance in that? "You're not even talking to me. You're just… it's like you're reading off a list." She knew me too well. "Let me help you, Grace."

"No. It wouldn't be fair to you; you would be a replacement for Cecilia." My mouth tasted like ashes. That was a lie. "I can't do that to you."

Maylene started to walk forward—

I took as many steps back as I could until I hit the door behind me. I watched her black shoes take long strides until she was so close to me that our feet nearly touched. Maylene grabbed me by the hand— or tried until I pulled again.

"D—don't," I whimpered. "I'll taint you."

"Then taint me," Maylene declared, fingers interlacing with mine. She crouched, and her face entered my field of vision. There was not a trace of anger, disappointment, or disgust on her. "I know this is selfish of me to say, but I won't give up on you, Grace. Not until you love yourself."

Not until I loved myself.

Was that possible? Maylene seemed to ardently believe it.

Seeing her like this, as bright as a star, an angel reaching down to pull me from the murky depths of my own mind, I couldn't help but wonder why. It might have seemed absurd at first— I knew why. She was in love with me. But that was only a fraction of the truth of it all, a piece of a larger picture. The real answer lay in something deeper, something that could be summed up in three simple words. The essence of who she was; the shape she took as she interacted with the world; the way she made others feel.

She was Good.

Goodness in her wasn't just a matter of kindness or morality; it was an intrinsic part of her being, woven into the very fabric of her soul and packed into something beautiful. It was the way she looked at you, not just seeing, but desperate to understand so she could help. The tenderness in her voice when I deserved nothing but scorn. And I tried, oh, I tried to do it like her, yet I only found myself struggling against myself. Where killing and wounding came easy, mindfulness was an uphill battle, a war within myself that I couldn't seem to win. She made it look effortless, as if compassion was as natural as breathing.

Maylene was better than me. The truth was, every chance to interact with her was a stroke of luck I did not deserve. I nearly ruined her once and would ruin her if we kept this going. Yet she had forgiven me in full and was still waiting for my answer with that precious innocent smile of hers, like a Lillipup looking up at me. She had done it all expecting nothing in return. Yes, she wanted to spend time with me, but no matter what happened, I would still be leaving. We stood upon a bridge half-collapsed, unable to support both of our weights, but she still wanted to remain here and hold me. She refused to give up on me because she genuinely believed in me, even if she would join me in the crumbling of the flimsy foundation I stood on in the hope of repairing it.

She was a Hero. My Hero. Anointing me in this ceremony with the belief that I could be just as Good as she was.

"It'll be difficult," I muttered. A feeble attempt, when I knew the answer anyway. "I'm a high-maintenance person."

"I know," she said. "But you can't just isolate yourself from everyone you know and think that things will go better. It's— it's like addicts, right?" she stood up and placed a finger under my chin to get me to look up at her. Her other hand still held onto mine. "You can't just quit cold turkey, okay? Or the majority of people can't anyway. You'll either relapse really hard or just be unable to do anything. There has to be an… off-ramp."

"But I'll hurt you."

"You won't. And if you do, I can take it. I'm a big girl, okay?" she said. "Let's start with the obvious. What's with this tainting stuff?"

"Did you ask me to taint you without understanding what I was saying?"

She blushed. "M—maybe. How was I even supposed to get it? Only you say stuff like that."

"That's… fair."

Even now, I could see it. Shadows writhing on her hands where she touched me. They were fading now, just as they had with Bobby, but… I hadn't gotten those when my dad ruffled my hair or accidentally held my hand. "I don't know. It's new." I explained as best as I understood the phenomenon, which wasn't much. "It's probably nothing. Just a weird vision I'll talk to my therapist about. Maybe I'll sleep it off, and it'll be gone tomorrow."

"It's not nothing. You only say that because it's tough to talk about, and you want to brush it off. If you can see it, it's a lot more literal than I thought, though," Maylene said. "Do you see it now?" Her hand touched my upper arm, thumb gently caressing the side of my shoulder.

"Yeah. I—I don't like it. I think it's actually just because getting close to people scares me, now. Like I'll drag them down with me."

"Are you scared right now?"

The subtle pressure of her fingers rested against my naked shoulder, warm and light. "I'm terrified," I exhaled. "Like you're in danger. Like a horrible fate is going to befall you."

"Okay. Then how does practice sound?"

"Practice?"

"Yeah, like what we're doing now. Light touching, and then we can slowly ramp up. To whatever." What did 'whatever' even mean in this context? A hug? When I nodded, she continued. "And for your co-dependency issues, if I'm the closest to what it would be like with Cecilia, you can also practice on me, okay? We can…" Maylene thought for a few moments; I could see the gears turning in the head. "We can keep you on a schedule and stuff. Keep your life nice and orderly so you don't rely on me too much, but you're not dropped off the deep end, either." Realization hit her, and she quickly added, "You can do that with your other friends, too, it doesn't have to just be me! Same for the touching!"

What would Cecilia say? It wasn't like I could send her a message and ask her; she was already gone. I could justify it however I wanted— that I'd do this with my other friends, that it was to fix myself and the way I thought— at the end of the day, Maylene still liked me, and I was interacting with her. Not that she'd asked me not to, but there was a difference between helping her with her dad and being friends with her and whatever this was going to be. Touching was okay, but hugging for however long? No.

Still, I continued, hoping to bring this up later. "I think that might work," I said, struggling not to shake her hand off me. How strange, to crave her touch yet want to rid myself of it at the same time. "Plus, you live really far." She could always Teleport, but not being in the same house all the time would help.

"See, now you're starting to get into it!" she cheered. "This, combined with therapy? You should be back on your feet in no time! Since it's the week-end, we can start all of this stuff on Monday. I'll ask Nia to help me with the scheduling stuff—"

I winced and interrupted her. "Please, no. I know it sounds weird, but I don't think you should tell her. I just don't want her to think ill of me."

"Fine, but if it doesn't work out, I'm still asking her," Maylene said. "I'll deal with the scheduling myself— just the moments I can see you or not, of course; I'm not about to micromanage you, that'd make it worse. It'll have to be around my work hours, but Veilstone's doing okay enough now for me to take more time off. We're only doing, like, ten battles a day right now."

"Thank you, Maylene." Already, I felt a little lighter, like I was seeing light at the end of a very dark tunnel. There were still many steps required to make it there, but at least it was visible when it hadn't been since Cecilia left me.

"I said I'd help, didn't I?"

"Mhm. So, what's this practice going to be like?" I glanced at her hand. Not the one touching my shoulder— she'd since removed it and started typing at a Notes app on her phone— but the one holding onto my very sweaty hand. "Is there a time limit?"

"I mean, I haven't thought about that yet," Maylene said. "You're doing pretty well."

"It's still unpleasant. We should set out the rules of this first." I wrangled my hand out of hers and stilled my trembling fingers. It still felt warm. "This is therapeutic first and foremost."

"Right, right. It is."

"How about… ten minutes?" I threw a random number up in the air. It had to be long because we wouldn't see each other every day. "Every time we meet. We can set up an alarm, and everything. We don't want me to go into touch debt."

She giggled. "Touch debt? What the hell is even that?"

"Something I just made up for the purposes of this process!" I said, slightly frustrated.

"Okay, you dork."

I was beginning to like it when she called me that, at least according to the smile creeping up my lips and my mild anger instantly evaporating. "I just want strict guidelines; it's important to not lose sight of the goal here," I sighed. "When you said 'ramping up,' I assume you meant… like, nothing like hugging." Two lies in one day; she was really making me act out of habit.

"Oh. I just meant touching with two hands or pressing a little harder. Or more surface area," she said. Of course, she had meant that. I could breathe easy, now. "We can try hugs, too, whenever you're ready. Not for ten minutes, though, that'd be too long. Maybe thirty seconds."

"N—no. That's too far."

She nodded. "Yeah. That's fair."

Okay, thank the Legendaries, I managed that.

After painstakingly making a list of rules that we both wrote on our phones and double-checking every single line, I had her sign it like a contract. Verbal pacts were the backbone of the fae, and I'd be foolish not to cement this further. By the end, I was feeling a whole lot better. It was impossible to know how long this good mood would last, but I felt more ready to face the world and fix my issues than I'd been since Cecilia left— hell, Maylene had even gotten me somewhat pumped to get a therapist again.

"Thanks again for the help, Maylene." When we talked now, I could face her. How could I not, when she had seen me for who I was time and time again; the deepest recesses of what made me? She had witnessed my naked soul and given it another chance. There was no need to feel ashamed. "I feel so refreshed."

"Me too, believe it or not." She glanced down at her phone. "You know, it's been ten minutes, but I didn't actually touch you that long. We should start today."

I hesitated. "You know what, sure. Might as well get it over with. Set the alarm. We'll go for six minutes."

"Okay. Uh, here I go?"

Her hand hovered in the air for a moment, the warmth of her palm lingering just above my skin. I could sense her hesitation, the way her fingers wavered before finally descending toward my neck. The sensation was at first jarring, almost violently unpleasant. The shock of it coursed through me, sharp and unwelcome, like watching her push it down a path lined with razor blades. Once I witnessed that it did not hurt her, the sensation slowly subsided. My body felt warm, like I had some kind of fever, and it was difficult to sit still. Occasionally, her thumb would graze my cheek, and I would find it difficult not to make any noise.

Her hand slid up my face—

"Maylene— not the face. Not now." It had instantly become intolerable. I could see it through when it was just a finger under my chin, but it was too much, too soon.

Immediately, she took her hand off me like she was touching a hot stove. "S—sorry. I got carried away." Her face was red, and she was nearly out of breath. Her eyes were magnetic; I knew that was the gaze of someone who loved me.

She loved me; I was using her to get better, and she knew it.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"No, it's me. This is our first session, I should have taken it slow. Here, let me—" the alarm rang out from her phone, an uncomfortable blare that ripped us away from our little bubble. "Already? I—I guess it's over, then."

"Yeah." I could still feel her hand where she'd touched me. "We'll resume in… what is it, three business days?"

"Yup. Seven pm, I'll send a Kadabra to Teleport you to my Gym. We have more than one now, so you won't be bothering us."

It'd be a short stay— only an hour and a half, and we would alternate who came to who each time. The purpose of it was to teach me that having people to depend on was okay, but not always to the point where I'd be emotionally and physically stunted without them. As dad had said, going to another extreme wouldn't work. I had agreed, but now it was time to put it into practice.

Maylene and I left the bathroom and thanked Princess and Honey for keeping watch. When I saw them in front of the door, they were playing rock paper scissors— Princess somehow had gotten a bit of dirt to use as a tool to shape and play the game. At first, I thought she'd damaged the building somewhere, but she told me that she'd grabbed it from a flower pot down the hall, her face full of indignation. It was when I'd been about to recall her that Maylene's eyes turned from satisfied to alert, narrowing as she squinted at something down the hall.

Oscar, trudging down the empty corridor with his familiar swagger. Had he used his standing to get up here? Sensing ill intent, Princess' rock turned into scissors dusted by glamour to render them sharper than hardened dirt could ever get. Honey understood a few seconds later and stood a few feet in front of us, causing Oscar to innocently raise his hands as Maylene quietly used the electric type's body to hide and wrote 'I GOT THIS' in all caps below all of the notes she'd taken.

My hand ran through my daughter's fur. "Princess, no violence," I whispered to her. Her scissors dissolved, the dirt collapsing on the ground without form. A feint. I knew she'd be able to reform them within half a second if need be.

"I come with no ill intent," Oscar announced. "No need for threats."

"You being here makes me ill, so I don't know about that," Maylene said, not looking at him.

He faltered for a moment, body tensing. He hadn't been expecting that retort, had he? Just those words— his daughter standing up to him— were enough to put him off-balance. "I just came here to talk. And to apologize."

His mouth was saying these things, but his body showed that he didn't mean it. There was no regret etched on his face, just a cold, indifferent stare that betrayed nothing. As if this was just a process for him that he needed to get through to get another chance to influence Maylene. The fact that Oscar only showed feelings whenever Maylene stood up to him spoke volumes.

"My behavior as of late hasn't been great. The truth was, when I saw Sinnoh in such disrepair, I felt an urge to take back the reins—"

"I know what you're doing," Maylene said, now facing him. "So stop."

He raised an eyebrow. "Pardon me?"

"Cecilia taught me this thing called the cycle of abuse," she said. The word 'abuse' made her dad scoff.

"You think this is abuse? Wanting to speak to my daughter?" His tone rose, spreading through the hall. "My father would beat me black and blue every time we trained; you should consider yourself lucky that—"

Maylene spoke over him, aura carrying her voice. "How every time there is an incident that puts the victim out of the abuser's clutches, and they realize they won't crawl back to them with their head hung low, they swallow their pride and apologize. Promise it'll never happen again. And for a while, they stick to it. Things are better for a few weeks, and you think things will go better, but eventually, they do it all again."

Oscar's face was wrought with disbelief. He could hardly believe it. "Now you're just putting words in my mouth." Was that all he could muster? Had he expected things to go his way so much that he could barely come up with anything else?

"Maybe you don't do it consciously. I don't know. I hope so," Maylene said. "But at the end of the day, you're still doing it. I'm done with you, Oscar. And so is the Gym. Do me a favor, and please raise your new kid better. Please."

That was it. Maylene didn't wait to hear his answer, not that he had any. She asked me to follow, and I did, walking past her flabbergasted father, who had nothing to say for himself but to mutter how she'd changed and was like a different person. I recalled my Pokemon once we reached the elevators, and Maylene leaned against the wall. Her legs and hands were shaking.

"Ahhhh, I thought I was going to pass out," she lamented.

"But— what was that?" I asked. "You did it. You told him everything you wanted to say!"

She smiled, clasping her hands together so they wouldn't shake. I'd felt a need to grab them in her place, but hadn't. Not outside of our ten minutes. "I did, didn't I?" Maylene let out a long, drawn-out exhale. "Legendaries, today's been tough for my heart. I thought I was gonna have a panic attack."

"I'm so proud of you. I— he's going to take a while to recover from that one."

"I had to put my money where my mouth was, right? If I'm going to help you, then I should be able to deal with my own problems," she said. "But I only managed this after Cecilia helped me. That's an important lesson."

"What's this? You're acting like a teacher." I found my tone to be more teasing than I thought it'd be.

The Gym Leader put her hand on her hips, looking all pompous. "Well, I'm like your guru, aren't I? I've got to lead by example."

Arceus, she was so silly.

When the elevator doors opened, we found the lobby far emptier than it had been when we'd gone up. We'd spent what, an hour in that bathroom? To complete what had happened and wrap it up in a neat little bow, I brought Maylene to the exact spot she'd picked me up at to scratch the invisible itch.

"So…" she drew out the word.

I was leaning against the same wall. "So. I guess this is it for today."

"Yeah." She kicked her feet, putting her hands behind her back. "Or. How about you come and meet Nia again— actually, I'll bring her. Just her." Maylene shivered, for some reason.

Meeting Gardenia? My favorite Gym Leader who I wanted to emulate and whose battles I had watched more times than I could count? I couldn't help but burst out smiling at the idea; goosebumps ran up and down my arm and neck. Already, I was nervous at being a mess in front of her. The last time, I'd only spoken a few words with her and barely had time to interact, but now? It'd be a proper meeting. Did she even remember our battle? Legendaries, I hoped not. I'd fought it so badly and made a million mistakes. But at the same time… I hoped that she did! What if we talked about it together?

No, no, I was getting ahead of myself. I couldn't go over my assigned time with Maylene…

Well, if Gardenia was going to be here, it was probably fine if I sent dad a message about waiting a little longer. He didn't know about any of this.

—

The time it took for Maylene to go get Gardenia had been enough for me to start getting second thoughts. What if she thought I was weird? All she knew about me was that I'd killed a bunch of people and watched a man get tortured. Plus, given that she knew I'd been in Coronet doing something, she probably thought I'd killed more. And she would be correct. What these thoughts brought was a different kind of nervousness. Not the one I'd gotten before talking to Maylene, the familiar pit in my stomach, the gnawing, twisting tread, and the relentless thoughts that things were going to go in the worst possible direction.

Instead, my heart raced in a way that was almost painful, a rapid thudding that echoed in my ears. My palms were slick with sweat, and I found myself shifting nervously, unable to keep still. Every possible outcome of the encounter flashed through my mind. What if I stuttered, what if I said something stupid, what if Gardenia didn't like me? This anxiety was closer to excitement, akin to what I used to feel before fighting in Gym Battles.

I could see them making their way toward me, chatting about something. Like every Gym Leader, her clothes were dark and muted. A simple skirt that flowed down below her knees, nearly touching the ground, and some kind of top that was nearly a whisper against her skin, thin and see-through on the sleeves. Her heels made her look taller than she already was.

"...things are going good. Anyway, Nia, here's Grace," Maylene finished a sentence.

Oh God. Already?!

"H—hello. Nice to meet you." Was that fine? It was fine right?

Gardenia smiled. "We already met, remember? Inside Maymay's Gym."

"Nia, she means that this is like, a proper meeting," Maylene huffed. "Stop being so matter-of-fact about things!"

"Sorry, sorry," Gardenia chuckled. "You can relax, I'm not going to eat you, okay? Here, why don't we sit." She gestured at the array of couches next to us.

We each took a seat, Gardenia sitting in front of both of us with an analytical stare that made me feel like I was being disassembled. Was she looking for something? Trying to figure me out? After three seconds or so, she leaned back and crossed her legs.

"First, I want to thank you for keeping Maylene safe in Coronet, Grace," Gardenia said. "I know that she lost her team in there."

"Oh, she saved me more than I saved her. Obviously, I can't go into much detail, but I wouldn't be here without her." There was no stutter this time, so I was making progress. I couldn't shake the feeling that I sounded weird, though. "There was a mutual give and take."

She paused for a second. "You helped her with her dad, too, while we were all too busy to be there when she needed it."

"Thank you, but that was mostly Cecilia."

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't know how to take a compliment, do you?" Gardenia noticed. It wasn't an aggressive statement, just a thoughtful observation. Her tone was even warm.

"Nia! You said you'd be nice, gosh!" Maylene yelled. She hadn't noticed.

"Say, why don't you swing by my Gym sometime," Gardenia asked. I thought I'd been hearing things, and I was stuck looking at her like some dumb kid. "No? Maylene's told me about your struggle to return to normal life, and I know I'm your favorite Gym Leader. We could share a few words about battling, tactics, and the like. Plus, I can tell you all about my journey, too."

"Y—yes!" I practically screamed. "Of course I— yes!"

Gardenia continued speaking about how she'd used Volkner and Roark to lose Candice— why had they not wanted her to be here?— and I soaked it all in. I'd honestly believed that my door with Gardenia had closed forever, that it would only remain open in Virtuous' timeline, but here I was, talking to her.

Well, mostly listening and enjoying myself.

When the day had begun, I thought I'd be going back home in tears.

---