3.5

Sai breathed a sigh of relief. This particular office looked nothing like a prison cell. There was furniture here, for one thing, and dim lights overhead that didn't flicker. Two expensive leather armchairs took up a good portion of the room, a side table nestled between them. The boy couldn't help but notice the stack of thick textbooks on top of the table. He hoped that they might hold the secrets to his recovery, since he hadn't had much luck with actually talking to psychiatrists.

Why did he still come here every week, then, if that was case? The answer to that question changed constantly.

Glancing toward the window at the far end of the office, Sai saw a deep, dark blue twilight closing in. Another day in his life was almost over. Soon, he could go home and sleep—if his mind slowed down and let him. It had been a long day, after all. It had been a long week. Really, it had just been a long life.

A wave of restlessness washed over him as he realized someone was speaking to him. Was it Dr. Richards, his former psychiatrist?

"You've told me before, Sai… that bad things happen to bad people, right?"

Silence. It wasn't Dr. Richards, though the words were similar.

"Yes."

Silence. He had learned that answers were supposed to swift and sharp. Hesitation created mistrust, and mistrust led him to trouble.

"Okay. What kind of person are you?"

Silence. Sai watched as the psychiatrist took a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his brow, and shifted in his seat so he didn't look as slumped.

"...That's a really nice suit, sir." He had to say what was on his mind or it was like saying nothing at all.

"Thank you, Sai."

"I think I'm boring you. Because I don't know why I'm here today." Silence. The psychologist's mouth parted, but no words came out. "I mean, I don't feel sick, so…"

"Do you think these sessions have been helpful at all?"

Silence. There was pain hidden in that silence. Would this psychiatrist be the first one brave enough to hear about the pain?

No, of course not. No one would ever be brave enough to make it through even half the story. So Sai filled the silence with meaningless chatter. "I don't know. I'm either going to get better or I'm not. There's no in-between."

The therapist fumbled with the papers on the clipboard in his lap, tapping his pen on each page before moving to the next. Dr. Richards also took notes in the cells. Sai didn't know what that meant. It probably didn't mean anything.

"From what you've told me, you eat well enough. Your sleep patterns have improved considerably, and you've started exercising a bit more."

"Yeah, I train. To be closer to my pokémon."

Silence.

"So. Now I have a question."

"Yes, Sai?"

Sai reached into his pocket and pulled out the black and white die Dr. Richards had given him all those years ago. He looked his new psychiatrist in the eye and asked what the man thought dice might signify if it was used symbolically in a piece of art or the like. Sai kept his gaze firm, but he was still so unaccustomed to seeing human faces that he had to look away.

Silence. A very, very long silence. The room grew darker. Twilight was here now.

"Well..."

Sai, in the end, couldn't bear to listen. Couldn't process what the psychiatrist's answer was. He only remembered that Dr. Richards said black and white were polar opposites.

It had been a nice gift to receive at the time. But Dr. Richards had been paid by Team Rocket to give him medication that forcibly cycled his moods, causing his own thoughts to become black and white. Things were always all bad, or all good, and because of that, he crashed. He crashed and he drowned. He drowned in his own black and white thoughts, over and over.

When he was released as a part of the survival project, a thousand different freedoms came to him. But much like how twilight comes and goes, his emotions, harsh and deep, changed so often that he couldn't take advantage of that freedom. He wanted to feel infinite, yet little of him was actually infinite, unless you counted the nights he spent trying not to burst from the pain of loneliness. When he was confronted by that inability to speak, to coincide with anyone else's thoughts or beliefs, then he made use of the coping techniques he had learned in the cells, like he was now. A false sort of contentment traveled toward his heart, which beat with a morose fervor more often than not. Nothing was right, nothing was wrong. Existing was enough of an accomplishment during moments like these.

chapter 4 ; [KUIORA]

effigy

I'd always meant to visit Ecruteak again. The city was so close to Olivine, and it was so full of people who took any opportunity to recount the history surrounding all the sacred buildings and artifacts they'd preserved over the centuries. It would've been the best place to bring Shin. Then he'd know that the pictures he saw in my collection of storybooks didn't just come from someone's wild imagination! Not to mention I'd heard how the sages of Ecruteak wanted the legendary Ho-oh to acknowledge their strength, so they accepted any and all challengers. If I had the chance, I could've beaten them fair and square.

But it was Sai's aversion toward Ecruteak that kept me from visiting. Of course, he said I could go whenever, that he wouldn't worry much because I was strong enough to handle myself. Still, I felt like I'd be disrespecting him as my trainer if I went. During the short time he'd been in the city, he'd tried to battle the gym leader and ended up running away in a panic. That had been the start of the worst breakdown we'd seen from him up to that point, and we almost lost him because of it. If Ezrem hadn't evolved so he could fly and break Sai's fall… Well, I didn't like to think about what would've happened to us without Sai.

Ezrem was also the one who told me stories about Ecruteak in lieu of the townspeople. That was good enough for me, even if he probably exaggerated literally everything he heard from the conversations between trainers passing through to get to Olivine. I forgave him for disappearing in return for his thoughtfulness.

When I finally did get the chance to travel out to Ecruteak with Sai, it was for Senori's funeral. I couldn't wrap my head around Sai's choice of location, but he explained that nowhere else in Johto met the requirements for the kind of burial ground he was looking for.

"Besides," he said, "that was a long time ago, and Senori's more important than… what happened back then."

I felt a little foolish for doubting him. I'd noticed that even though people constantly dwelled on the past, they rarely learned from their mistakes. But my trainer was different than that.

Sai had wanted to stay in the Pokémon Center the night before to avoid an early trip to the city, but he decided against it to save money. Ezrem insisted on flying the team when he realized that Sai was planning to have everyone walk. No one questioned how distracted the braviary seemed, and no one who had to travel in their pokéball complained. From inside my own pokéball—I'd long since outgrown Ezrem in size—I listened to Sai make small talk with Shin. I thought about how the world would be so quiet without our trainer, and not in the peaceful kind of way.

When Ezrem landed outside Ecruteak's west side entrance and I was out in the open again, I shivered. The morning chill was pretty brutal, and the lively pomeg trees that looped around the archway leading to the heart of the city failed to block the wind from reaching us. I stretched out my arms as Shin started to run to me, but he backtracked toward Ezrem, who could warm him up better than I could, anyway.

We had to find Bellmoore Avenue, which, according to a map Sai brought, was a bit further to the north. Luckily for us, Ecruteak cared a lot about their tourists and their status in the League. Tall street signs stood on every corner, and none of the letters were faded. Atis read them to Sai easily, and then Sai figured out which road to turn on.

Once, Sai got totally stumped even with the map. He stopped to ask for directions from an older man braving the December cold to pick up pieces of trash that the wind had blown into the streets. By this point in our search Sai was becoming impatient, and he mumbled something about not being on time for anything ever. He almost gave up on the old man, too, when he just kept staring at the map with a puzzled expression on his face. Sai repeated the name of the place with a raised voice, emphasizing each syllable sternly. Finally, the old man understood. He offered a sad, knowing smile and pointed to where the asphalt gave way to a narrow gravel path in an alley.

Sai both thanked the old man and apologized to him. We moved on, but our trainer plodded along slowly now, looking more like someone wandering about without a destination in mind. Knowing him, he felt guilty for almost losing his temper with the old man, but he'd feel even guiltier if we didn't find Bellmoore on time. Not that I knew all that much about how humans grasped the concept of time, but Atis was teaching me about it. I watched as the hitmontop placed a hand on his back and pressed gently to get him to speed up the pace again.

The sound of gravel shifting beneath our feet filled in the silence between small talk about directions. Gracie skipped ahead of the group, probably to see if she could remember where we were now from when she'd traveled here with Marty. Rennio caught up with her to keep warm after he stepped in a small patch of snow stuck between the rocks. I trailed behind them, near Shin and also Ezrem, who was staring at the ground intensely. I stayed quiet. Even though I really, really wanted to know what he was thinking, what I wanted more was for him to just… not run off. It was selfish, I knew, but I needed him here right now.

At the end of the alleyway, Sai said, "Okay, here we go," and I guessed that we'd just reached Bellmoore Avenue. Ahead of us was a vast courtyard with all different kinds of statues and flowers and hedges cut in weird patterns, but it was a white sign held up by two circular columns that caught my attention. I stopped to read it, but I had trouble just figuring out that there were two words on the sign.

Ezrem tapped me on the shoulder with the tip of his wing. "You look rather fascinated with something over there," he said, his head tilted. "Should I be jealous?"

"Of course not," I said, crossing my arms. No one was even by the sign! I did my best to ignore him and keep reading, but the rest of the team was already heading through the courtyard toward the tower looming behind it. "This is the right spot, isn't it? Where are they going?"

Ezrem shrugged. He turned his head to glance at Shin, who'd fallen asleep at some point with his arms slumped over his father's shoulders. "Like I'd know," the braviary said, his voice quiet. "If it is, though, I don't see any corpse around."

I flinched at his bluntness. At least he'd made sure Shin wouldn't hear before opening his break, but I gave him the most intense glare I could manage, anyway. He totally deserved it for talking about Senori like he was just some creepy object.

"What? I'm trying to behave, you know!" he said, then sighed. "Let's just get this over with."

And with that, he started to carefully maneuver his way through the courtyard on foot instead of flying to avoid waking the tired totodile on his back. And then it hit me that he wouldn't have ended the conversation that way if he was trying to be rude on purpose, so he was… being honest?

I'd never admit it to Ezrem's face, but I'd given up on trying to understand him. It didn't seem like he wanted anyone to, so I usually felt okay about it. But I certainly felt guilty for it now! Hadn't Sai told him about today at all? Technically, we were holding a memorial service in Senori's honor, not a proper funeral. That meant there wouldn't be a body, just a visit to the spot Sai had chosen for him to be buried.

I hung back behind everyone for a while longer. I was half angry at Sai and the team for not including Ezrem in something important again, half angry at Ezrem for not being at the hospital when he should've. I walked on, ignoring the scenery, ignoring the fountain that had water spouting from the mouth of a stone-carved lugia and the fact that I now recognized that the tower ahead was Ecruteak's rebuilt Brass Tower. When the team was almost out of sight completely, I had no choice but to sprint and rejoin them.

I paused in front of the solid gold doors leading into the tower, which closed behind the team with a resounding thud that startled me. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that this wasn't going to be the visit back to Ecruteak I'd envisioned, not least because we came to say goodbye to Senori together. So I wasn't going to take the attention away from Senori and explain how the Brass Tower had been nothing but ashes years ago, and I wasn't going to stray from the team to admire all the intricately detailed paintings and decorations. I went to great lengths to show Sai how much I respected and cared about him, and I wanted to do the same for Senori. Teammates were just as important as the trainer, after all, and knowing all the history in the world was pointless if you weren't part of anyone's story yourself.

So no, I wasn't going to be selfish and reckless like usual. I was going to tough it out and stick by my team the entire time, even if it hurt like crazy, even if it all felt like it a terrible dream happening in slow motion. Finding the courage to follow through would be hard, but courage was the most important part of being strong.

I pushed open the Brass Tower's heavy doors and stepped inside, looking straight ahead.

Sai and the team had made it to the far end of the Brass Tower in the time I'd spent dawdling. I trailed after them yet again, trying to make the pounding in my chest slow down. In hindsight, I was a terrible team member if I had to force myself to do the whole memorial service thing with them properly, but to me, it was the same as recreating the scene where we'd said our goodbyes at the hospital.

I stood in between Ezrem and Sai, who stood behind a small podium, flipping through a couple pages of a book that was open when we arrived. I didn't want to know what he was searching for exactly, and had no interest in practicing my reading skills with the book.

I wondered whether Sai would've allowed me to sit this one out if I'd asked. There was no way a spirit like Senori's could be contained in a grave, anyway, so why bother? For the rest of our lives, he'd be watching us, guiding us like always. The main difference was that we wouldn't be able to see him, talk to him, travel with him…

Okay, things would be very different without Senori, and it'd take some getting used to. As long as I knew he was still with us somehow, I'd feel more comfortable with the idea of moving on.

I watched as our trainer shook his head and turned toward us. "What do you know?" he said. His voice still sounded strained. My chest felt heavy hearing it. He had to know that Senori wasn't completely gone, too, right? "We're early. First ones here."

Not too many people were expected to show up, really. Glori was already with us in her pokéball, and she'd be released when we found a pond where she could swim. Marty and Sasha had promised they'd show up, of course, and Corinne and Tamron had claimed that they were going to beg Jasmine to bring them until she caved in. It was only right that we waited for them, since they all cared a lot about Senori, and they'd all been insistent about asking us if there was anything they could do to help.

Unfortunately, no one seemed too sure of what to do in the meantime. Sai closed what I now assumed was the guestbook and went to sit on a nearby pew decorated with ornate brass inlays. I glanced at Ezrem, who seemed unfazed by Shin nuzzling restlessly into the feathers on his neck. Out of the corner of my eye, Gracie and Rennio nodded to each other while frowning. Atis turned in circles, reading some of the writing on the walls to himself and rubbing his elbows nervously.

I remained where I was, confused. Why wasn't anyone talking? We didn't usually dwell on silences like these. We used to say whatever we wanted, whenever, no matter who was around to listen.

I felt almost smothered, like the air was running out or like I was standing in the middle of an unmoving crowd. Even though the mausoleum's ceiling reached impossibly high and it was as spacious as a stadium, I couldn't shake away the weight of the overpowering, tension filled atmosphere.

The awkwardness was thankfully broken sooner rather than later. A group of women ambled in through a door leading to the back of the tower, which blended in with the tombs on the walls so well I hadn't noticed it before now. They nodded to us in acknowledgement, and I found myself nodding back.

Apparently, we could help out with the preparations if we wanted, as a way for us to honor Senori alone, as a team. As one of the women approached Sai to explain the process to him, I got a better look at the oversized white robes they all wore and the gohei hidden in the sleeves. If my memory was still functional, unlike the rest of me, then the gohei preparations would be quick. Then the women—I thought they called themselves channelers—would give us privacy until we left.

"I mean, I'll do it," Sai said with a half-smile. "And it's up to these guys here if they want to join me…"

Ezrem pointed to himself and argued that Shin should stay asleep, since he was just a kid. He repeated his reasoning twice, even though no one made any sort of counterargument. Gracie had firsthand knowledge of the preparations already and claimed her flames could be just as troublesome as the braviary's spoiled rotten son. Glori had the pokéball excuse, and Rennio stuttered to apologize.

So that left Atis and me. The hitmontop pursed his lips and inhaled loudly, his cheeks puffing slightly as he held in the lungful of air. I offered him a casual one-shouldered shrug to tell him I didn't mind volunteering myself.

"It's fine," I added out loud, remembering the silence. I kind of did mind, actually, but it was only fair to step up to the task. While I spent the majority of my time keeping an eye on Shin, the team, especially Atis and Gracie, worried about Sai.

"If I may…" the head channeler spoke, "the feraligatr would be most handy, given her height."

"Yeah, looks like it's pretty much settled," Sai said. He started to follow the channelers and motioned for me to come, too. He held out his arm at a weird angle, smiling, and I stared, unsure of what the gesture meant and wondering when my trainer had become so mature.

Ezrem and Gracie and Glori could forget about the idea of replacing Senori. At this rate, Sai would fit the traditional description of a trainer and become the leader himself.

Sai chuckled. He positioned my arm the same way as his, then hooked both of ours together so he could guide me. I stood taller than him by quite a bit, and, comparing his lanky body to my scales and claws and spikes, no one would guess that it was his embrace that made me feel safe, like a stronghold.

When we reached a part of the mausoleum where the team couldn't overhear us, the channelers removed their gohei. The head channeler instructed me to hold one in place after unfolding it and having it touch the floor. I had to be careful not to break the wood because of how thin it was while the head channeler worked to secure a gold, zigzag-shaped, paper streamer on the tip. My height definitely came into play when I was asked to hold the gohei up high and make a few laps around the mausoleum with Sai and them. The streamer would still drag across the floor because of how long it was, but ultimately, the gohei would work to cleanse all the negative energy lingering, and to put to rest any of the deceased that were disturbed because of it.

"Additionally, we doused each of the gohei in a heal powder specially extracted from a stantler's antlers. Do not be concerned if the powder drifts away," the head channeler informed us while the other women finished up with their paper streamers. "We will go on ahead of you so you can follow the appropriate path the ritual calls for. Are you ready?"

Sai accepted a gohei prepared for him as well and nodded. Our arms linked, I waited for his signal to start moving. I felt a tug and he said, "It's not too late to say never mind if you want, Kuiora."

Without thinking about it, I marched forward, tugging him along slowly. He fell into step beside me. "Now it's too late," I said.

"Yeah, true."

Once again, silence took hold. Silence was the last thing I wanted, but Sai strolled along unbothered, humming parts to an unfamiliar song. I thought about teaching him what the unique patterns in the stained glass windows signified, or just getting to the point and apologizing for not being as strong as I expected myself to be during all this.

We rounded the mausoleum twice, and Sai started having to sidestep the heal powder on the ground left behind by the channelers' gohei. The amount of negative energy only grew, or maybe that was my imagination. I couldn't get a sense of how the team was faring from this distance.

Eventually, Sai pulled my arm closer to his and asked me if he could share a secret.

"A secret? I mean, sure, Sai, but right now?"

"Okay, it's not really a secret. I just wanted your opinion on this," he replied, raising his gohei and motioning toward nothing in particular.

"Go for it," I said, not at all confident about what I was getting myself into.

"I didn't… consult the team on any of this, you know," he said. "There were a lot of choices, like cremation, but then Rennio and Ezrem would've started a riot, what with their whole aversion to fire, which I admit I don't fully get. I respected it, though, like Senori would want me to do, and—"

"So that explains Ezrem's confusion, right?" I interrupted, wanting clarification before he changed the topic.

"Hmm?"

"He didn't know about Senori's, uh…" I trailed off. I could think it, but I couldn't say it? Pathetic, Kuiora. "You know," I went on, still failing to summon the courage I needed for the rest of the day. "The thing that isn't here, but would be, normally."

Sai slowed down, and I tried to match his pace even though a million more questions were racing through my head. Eventually, all he said was, "I didn't want to hurt anyone more if I didn't have to," his voice a mere whisper.

I broke my promise, then, and spouted off the knowledge I knew about the Brass Tower—how durable its structure was so that it could withstand any wild storm or stray battle, especially after the fire from long ago, and how he could, without a doubt, trust Ecruteak to always respect Senori's memory.

"Just like you respected Ezrem and Rennio!" I said. I covered my mouth with my free hand, embarrassed by how high pitched I'd said that last part. I didn't want Sai to know I was trying too hard to keep my composure. But my pulling my free hand caught Sai off guard and made him stumble a bit.

Before I could apologize, Sai went on, "I used his pokéball as the urn, Kuiora. I didn't have the money for anything better, which I know Senori doesn't care about. And I left the die with him, too. Face up, number one, that single black dot. Because it only seemed right."

He talked like I hadn't tripped him. Like nothing else mattered except finishing his thoughts lest they spiral out of control. Like some phantoms from his past, ones we hadn't heard from in Arceus knows how long now, were stirring and waking up without warning. I held in a lungful of air, suppressing the memory of me catching Senori in the very same pokéball he would stay buried in forever. I gestured for him to keep walking as he went on.

"I think Senori would've liked if part of him could stay in Cherrygrove with his old clan. I hope he doesn't hold that against me. And the team, that die… I rolled it for almost everyone on the team, but Senori gets to keep it? That doesn't seem fair, does it?"

His words, filled with worry and shame and sorrow, this time called for silence. I listened, pretending he was listing the funeral customs of a faraway region to soften the bleakness of our situation. At the same time, I berated myself for wanting to let everything he said go over my head. I used to be oblivious to him back when we traveled, too, because I was only interested if he mentioned my name or if I might get a chance to battle.

"I don't want to be here," Sai said, and he wasn't referring to the mausoleum. I'd learned enough about him over the years to know the implications of a statement like that. "But I don't want to go."

"We'll… keep going, Sai," I said. "We'll start over. We'll be all right."

He clenched his free hand and looked me up and down, the wild glint in his eyes diminishing just a little, then said, "Start over? God, it feels like just yesterday you evolved for the first time and started throwing punches to knock some sense into me. This is ridiculous."

Needless to say, that hadn't been one of my finer moments. Sai also still beat himself up for greeting Senori with a stealth attack to test his strength. Sai tested Senori and I tested Sai, but Senori never tested anybody. Senori simply thought everyone deserved respect.

Speechless, I said nothing.

"Starting over sounds nice, though," Sai said. "Does that mean you'll technically be my starter now?"

I laughed despite myself. "You said it, not me," I said. If jokes were acceptable as an apology for the fact I couldn't erase the past, then I could totally take advantage of them, right?

Sai nodded toward the channelers in response. They had completed their third lap around the mausoleum and were lowering their arms holding their gohei. Somehow, the light in the mausoleum seemed brighter, and when we approached the team, they looked relieved and eager to see us again. I got the feeling they were worried that one of us would fall apart halfway through the preparations.

Apparently, our trainer thought the same. "That's why I don't want to go," he whispered. He lowered his gohei as well and unhooked his arm from mine.

"Sai… I—"

Sai shook his head, and I forgot what I meant to say. "Thanks, Kuiora," he said to me. "I knew about the gohei, too, but… I didn't mention it. I figured I'd be doing it alone, so, yeah, I appreciated the company."

Dumbfounded, I stood there as Sai went up to the team and asked if someone could hold his gohei, because now his arms hurt. He acted like we didn't have the conversation we just did, but I knew the phantoms that haunted him wouldn't leave him alone that easily. And I knew our team could sense his sadness even if he tried to hide it. Rennio and Atis and Gracie rushed to help him, and Ezrem even told Shin, who was no longer napping, to go do what our trainer asked him to.

Joining them, I vaguely wondered what Sai saw in me at Professor Elm's lab. The professor raised so many totodile and cyndaquil and chikorita all at once, and Sai chose me out of the group. Sure, I was the only one who'd perfected an attack and the only one who could stand a chance in a fight, but what good could brute strength do when a teammate died?

I vaguely wondered, too, whether or not he'd choose me—and the rest of us—again if we really had the chance to start over. I liked to think he would.

Sai had one last surprise for us. He gathered the team for a private meeting near the back wall of the mausoleum right as everyone else arrived. The newcomers busied themselves with signing the guestbook and avoiding eye contact with each other while Sai explained what would be our tribute to the life Senori lived before he traveled with us. Sai couldn't leave any of Senori's physical remains in Cherrygrove, no, but another perk the Brass Tower offered was something called the tree of remembrance.

Sai reached into his pocket, and for a split second I thought he was going to pull out the die and I was going to be really confused. Instead he took out a small brass plaque in the shape of a leaf. He showed us Senori's name etched on it with fancy-looking letters, and he claimed we'd be adding it to the tree on the back wall here. I hadn't paid attention to the mural before, thinking it was a mild homage to nature in a place that specialized in indoor burials. And the mural, overflowing with a massive amount of plaques, already seemed complete to me. Senori would fit right in with the rest of the deceased here, though. He had a knack for brightening up the lives of anyone he came in contact with.

When the team split up, I couldn't tell if anyone was bothered by his confessions regarding the die and his choices for Senori's grave. I couldn't confront anyone about it, either, because Shin wasted no time in diverting my attention toward himself. He rushed off, seemingly unfazed by this whole memorial service thing, and was now trying to knock over a set of empty candleholders.

I knew I probably couldn't catch up in time, so I stomped my foot to knock some sense into him. An unfamiliar voice reprimanded me with a comment about slow-moving, disrespectful land dwelling water-types. The voice belonged to Glori, who hovered in a decent-sized water basin located near the team so she could participate in the meeting. Unable to think up a witty response, I chose to physically retrieve my son and drop him into the pool with her so she could deal with him. If Ezrem felt more up to it, he'd call me immature for sure.

Glori smirked. I didn't offer any proof that I found her banter funny, though she did keep Shin preoccupied by sending him off on a hunt for loose feathers belonging to Ezrem, and for that, I could be grateful again for the other water-type's presence. There were just too many kinds of sadness in this one confined space for me to maintain the front I'd put on for Sai.

I trailed back toward the corner of the back wall, where Glori was out of earshot and Ezrem stood unblinking, unmoving, lost in his own little world. He nodded to me when I approached as if answering a question I didn't even ask yet.

I nudged him and said, "Well, what do you think, Ezrem? Was that too immature?"

"Too immature," he said, nodding again. "You awful, awful land dwelling water-type."

"What? No, you're an awful, awful…" I started, turning sharply to him. The tip of my tail scraped the bottom of the tree remembrance in the process, and I jumped back, hoping nobody else had noticed I'd just desecrated the memorial. "Ugh. We're both awful, okay?"

Ezrem shrugged. "Works for me."

I inspected the bottommost part of the mural for damage and relaxed when I couldn't find so much as a scratch. Reluctantly, I brushed my knuckles against the trunk of the bronze tree, claws drawn together because of their sharpness. The russet slab felt remarkably cool to the touch, and smooth.

Then I stepped back and strained my neck trying to peer up at the highest layer of leaf-shaped plaques. Maybe Atis would've interpreted some of the names with me, if this were the right time and place for a reading lesson. A pang of sadness struck me when I realized that the higher a plaque was, the less likely it'd be acknowledged. There weren't many creatures out there that could stand eye level with them. What if Ezrem felt that kind of sadness sometimes as a flying-type? He was always soaring above Olivine, on the lookout for trouble, but what if that wasn't what he really wanted?

I grabbed the tip of the flying-type's wing and led him to the growing group of mourners. The braviary, seemingly lifeless like the mural itself, resisted my pull at first with a shocked expression on his face. Like he thought he needed permission to be here. Like he, too, had a million and one secrets hidden. That I knew almost none of them and could only hold his hand to comfort him was just another kind of sadness.

We passed by Gracie first, who hadn't ventured far from the back wall herself yet. Two of our guests, Marty and Sasha, had chosen to reunite with her straightaway, and now, the flames on Gracie's back flickered wildly as Marty bent down to her eye level. We all knew that meant she was uncomfortable, and since her former trainer sidestepped the chance to witness Ezrem's antics more often than not, I tried to drag him in their direction despite his protests.

Luckily for Ezrem, Sai took action first. His human friends, seeing him, proceeded to hug him tightly and whisper their condolences in his ear.

"Close call," Ezrem muttered.

"You know that Marty boy saved Senori once, right? In a cave where the boulders started to fall! Senori was almost crushed flat!"

Ezrem shook his head. "Hey, you still can't deny their poor sense of humor," he said, but he waddled over to Gracie and struck up a conversation with her anyway. I smiled as he acted like real shield by lifting an entire wing to block her view of Marty and Sasha.

Rennio and the two other elekid wandered around aimlessly, eventually settling near an altar with a leather bound book lying closed on top of it. Instead of joking around with each other as usual, Corinne sobbed quietly and Tamron drew circles with his feet while Rennio tried to tell them to keep their chin up. Jasmine, Corinne's and Tamron's escort, hovered at the mausoleum's entrance, her hands clasped behind her back. Her ampharos stood beside her, and the electric-type's tail drooped so low it brushed the ground.

Scanning the mausoleum, there weren't a lot of guests here for Senori number wise, though a crowd lined up outside the mausoleum wouldn't have mattered as much to him. Senori would've appreciated how Marty had postponed his gym battle in Blackthorn City and traveled halfway across the region to say goodbye, and how elekid twins showed up to support Rennio when they'd only personally met the furret a handful of times. Sai had entertained the idea of inviting his mother for a brief moment, since he still saw her for lunch every month or so despite his neglectful childhood. It was just like him to be considerate at his own expense, but he knew how much the mention of his past broke his starter's heart, so he decided against it.

Yeah, it was just like him to be too considerate. I watched as he went from guest to guest, and to everyone on the team. I watched as he placed a hand on their shoulder, and I couldn't hear what he told anybody, but he spoke with a genuine half-smile on his face. Which didn't make sense, because no doubt he had to be suffering the most out of all of us. When he came to me, his dark blue eyes looked dry and stubborn as he told me that everyone should meet at the tree of remembrance in fifteen minutes. If he wanted to cry, he was holding back, even though no one would blame him for breaking down right then and there. Really, crying was the only response left to have now that all the final arrangements for Senori's passing were finished.

I couldn't deny that I wanted to see more of that from him, though! More proof that he was still brave and still ours and still here. It would be all too easy for him to disappear, literally or figuratively, immersed in his grief.

Shin was the last member of the team Sai talked to. My son, of course, had used up all his energy by bouncing all around the mausoleum. At least he hadn't touched anything he wasn't supposed to. I watched as Sai picked Shin up and brought him to the back wall, where he cradled the totodile and waited, his eyes finally glossing over.

It hadn't taken very long for Shin to catch on to how bizarre and funny—his words, not mine—Sai was compared to the rest of us. I brushed his Sai-related questions aside while Senori was sick, until he'd made it visibly obvious that I was upsetting him. Okay, I could've explained to him how humans are way different than pokémon, but that almost felt like a lie. We can think and talk just as well as any human, unlike animals, and with our power to boot, I'm not entirely sure why pokémon ended up being trained and not the other way around. Whoever invented the pokéball must have been scared of us and wanted to contain our power.

Of course, pokémon aren't scared. We've always approached humans to test their strength, because in reality, we need them and we know it. The world they've built over the centuries hasn't been a hundred percent accommodating for us. Any old trainer won't do, so we're picky, but we remain loyal when we find that one worthy trainer.

I'd tried to teach Shin that much, at least. My answer had only deepened his curiosity. He watched Sai more closely after that, and a few weeks later, he came back to ask when we were going to start looking for a new trainer.

I stared at him, taken by surprise. "Why would we do that?" I said. Waiting impatiently for his response, I had wondered if he thought Senori's death meant the entire team would go their separate ways.

But no, that wasn't it. "I don't think Sai's the worthy trainer."

The totodile had butchered the adjective, so I hadn't realized what he meant right away. Still, all I could think to say was, "Why?"

Shin shrugged. It was just a feeling he had, apparently. I could find a way to deal with that.

Right now, watching Sai and Shin together from afar, I felt frozen in place, wanting everything to be different yet wanting nothing to change. I couldn't imagine belonging to any trainer but Sai. I never wanted Senori to go, but it was naïve to think nothing bad could ever happen to us. It was the bad things that had made Sai a worthy trainer to begin with, after all. And we could only get stronger from here.

Watching Sai and Shin together from afar, feeling as conflicted as I'd ever been, I started to cry, too.