It calls itself victini.

It says it has chosen you. You scoff. You have heard that name, all full of sparkles and miracles. All full of easy wins and cheerful goals. You refuse him. Strength is not built from that.

It only laughs harder.

You don't have a choice. You never do.

You decide to ignore the giggling child-voice, and keep walking. It fades away, but its words dance like your mother did as a little girl in your head until you're out in the sun.

Then, you forget, in love with the larvesta who is crawling up your arm.