Cresselia's moon hung low over the street, casting eerie light onto the children who skittered around on skates and bicycles, plastic Pumpkaboo buckets and ornate fake purple Master Balls trailing behind them. A pint-sized Cynthia blew past a small jeep, and a tiny N Harmonia with a thumb in his mouth cried as he passed the tallest kids on the block.
"You know, an inordinate number of trick-or-treaters on this street are dressed up as the trainers of legend," the tall boy remarked, adjusting his red cap. "I bet all the history professors at the University of Lavender live on this street?"
The darker girl beside him giggled, rifling through her bag. "It's not like we can talk. I mean, is a teeny weeny N or Cynthia or Red any different from the Heroes of Kalos?"
"We're too old for this," the blonde girl chided, shaking her head.
"We don't look our age, though." The darker girl tugged at her pink shirt.
"We're tall enough we look too old to trick or treat," The blonde pulled her hat down lower on her face.
The boy put his head in one hand. "We have young faces. People will just assume we're lanky, younger children."
A little girl in Lysandre's suit passed them, sticking her tongue out of her mouth as she ran away. The boy shuddered. A Machop dressed as Cyrus followed her, ranting about how the rest of their class went to Surge Street instead.
"Who cares, as long as we get candy?"
"Shauna, we can buy candy."
As the Calem-boy and Shauna-girl bickered, their Serena stopped in her tracks, staring at a brick house with a windmill in the yard. She was halfway up its stony walkway before the others noticed and followed. By the time they caught up, her finger was on the doorbell, which rang in a familiar crescendo.
The Calem could only watch as a shudder worked its way down his Serena, even before the door could open all the way. The white creature stared back at them over yellow choice specs, red vest in stark contrast to the purple tail that snaked up behind him. His tiny mouth frowned.
"Aren't you three a little old to be trick or treating?" he asked, in the half-spoken, half-felt way of the old legends.
Serena shrugged.
"Oh come on," Shauna begged, not dropping the act. "We're not that old."
"I didn't come out of the tank yesterday, Shauna." He locked his eyes on Serena. "Get in here. I have hard cider and we have a millennium of catching up to do." He smirked. "And I'm microchipping you, trainer. You're never starting over without telling me again."
Serena sighed, walking in the doorway, sneaking a sly hug off the Pokemon as she passed.
"You should be nicer to my friends." Shauna scolded, crossing her arms.
"Funny," Mewtwo scowled, lowering his head. "A few thousand years ago, I remember her saying the same thing of me."