For all Outerridge is overtly proud, stubborn, and acerbic, he is also useful. Throughout all my travels, I have yet to meet a person who fit my goals as snugly as he did. That is not to say that I have ever enjoyed being in his company, or having to communicate with him – I did not, and I do not. But I enjoyed what he brought to my life.

At that time, I hadn't found the sort of excitement one is supposed to dwell in. Pokémon trainers who are beginning their journeys live in a perpetual state of fascination with the outside world; they enjoy everything, from the smallest rock to the tallest mountain. I did not. My journey was nothing more than another test to be surpassed, and I was going to, as they say, pass with flying colors. In the end, I suppose I did, did I not?

In any case, Outerridge was a queen disguised as a pawn. Forgive me the uncreative chess metaphor, but I cannot find words who suit him as well as these do, and I would rather not compliment him more than I have to. Besides – as long as I remain the player, it doesn't irk me as much as it should.

Outerridge allowed me to act to the best of my abilities.

He did the dirty work that had been transferred onto me—no, I will not elaborate—and I was free to focus on my career. … Well, money, of course. Outerridge is like a sableye when it comes to such things. He is starved for anything expensive, and, at the time, would've done anything for what I paid him. In fact, that's exactly what happened.

He was versatile, charming, and unscrupulous. I suppose he still is – we haven't been in contact for a while, but no one ever changes, do they? … Yes, I've been told. No, I do not take that as an insult. Being a cynic has always played in my favor.

Well, almost.

It was a beneficial relationship between us, even if we disliked one another. He enjoyed getting paid, and I enjoyed focusing on my training. We spoke through pokécenter cam, despite the fact I'd offered to buy him a pokégear – overtly proud as ever – and we often met up for … business transactions. After Saffron, where we'd met, he delivered a parcel in my name, and came across a catatonic Geneva. More than usual, I suppose. … No, that wasn't until much later. This was nothing but a bump in the road, if a slightly traumatic one.

It happens to more people than the statistics say, would you believe it? After all, no one wants to admit their carelessness cost them a partner. But Geneva did, if only because she told her darling Outerridge everything.

The way I see it – and because I only met her after her growlithe had died – Geneva learned from the experience. Perhaps too much. I honestly couldn't say. The conclusions I took, I took from Outerridge's retelling of the story.

You see, Outerridge was adamant in saying she'd changed. Imperceptibly, perhaps, but Outerridge cares far more about Geneva than he cares to admit. … No, not at that time. At that time, she was nothing more than a childhood friend who refused to be left behind.

An unskilled, unexperienced trainer. That was all Geneva was to him.

To us.


Chapter VII:
Won't Help You Make It Better, or I Can't Feel the Heat


The girl stood motionless for a good half hour before Anima had finished her meal, muttering that it was okay, couldn't she see, it was okay, Anima—

Anima had gotten bored seconds after the litany had begun. It had been so long since Anima had had the pleasure to eat something apart from the poison in the air. Why stick around to listen the words of a human? She would be a fool to let the chance go to waste, even if the growlithe had tasted of lean meat and oxygen – awful and pungent. Two bites, and Anima had given up. But the ekans … ah, the ekans was strong, wet, and acidic, and nothing apart from its spine remained.

Satisfied and full, she hovered back, assessing the scene.

The growlithe's corpse would attract more predators soon enough, even though the sun was still high in the sky. Anima half-wanted to stick around, ready for a fight, but it was clear the girl had suffered some kind of wound when she hadn't been looking.

Anima turned to her, holding herself closer to her body, and stared.

She'd seen humans crying, before, back at the tower – but they never stuck around in the same spot, usually leaving immediately or being dragged off by another robed woman. Wet humans were usually quick humans, she'd thought at the time. Now, Anima wasn't so sure. The girl was wet, but she was so still! She would've looked dead, were it not the rise and fall of her chest.

Then again, the girl was slow at everything. She walked slowly, she spoke slowly, and she was slow enough to keep Anima inside her pokéball instead of letting her roam. And now the growlithe was dead, and Anima wanted nothing more than to laugh. She'd always heard humans were idiots, but to see it firsthand was on a whole different level …

If you'd let me out of my pokéball more often, this wouldn't have happened, Anima said, mouth widening into a smirk.

The girl looked up, eyes dark and glowing red from the sun. It was a good look! Anima loved her own eyes, after all – it was nice to see them mirrored in a human's face from time to time.

"What?" the girl asked, so quietly Anima almost missed it.

You are an idiot, Anima replied. You ought to learn to listen.

"I don't—I can't … I can't understand," the girl murmured, eyes drawn to the floor again. There was still water in them, somehow. Didn't humans ever run dry? Perhaps this would always happen, from now on.

In any case, it was a change from the deadpan expression in the girl's face. How nice! There was still so much to figure out.

I'm bored now, Anima insisted, circling her in fast loops. Let's leave this place before you die too. I don't want to go back to the Cloud so soon. There is still much to see.

"I don't … I don't know what to do," the girl said.

Anima flicked a gas tentacle at her, sharp enough that the girl covered her mouth.

Get up, she hissed, her gas darkening.

The girl's eyes widened – her hand flinched in her pocket's direction. Anima hissed again and backtracked, covering the growlithe's prone body with her cloud. The girl's gaze followed, and so Anima uncovered the growlithe, along with her teeth.

Get up, she insisted. There is nothing for us here.

The girl dropped her hand again, staring at the growlithe. Beside her, the contents of her backpack were still sprawled across the grass. Anima floated over to them and snapped a gas line at them. It dissipated, of course, but maybe the stupid girl would finally understand.

"I can't – leave him …"

You can, Anima argued, snapping more gas in the bag's direction, and you will. He is no longer yours.

And he wasn't. The growlithe belonged to the ground, now. To the shadows in the Ceiling. To the lines of unmoving stones in the Rooms. Anima didn't know much of the world, but she knew what came after one left it. There was nothing more to be done.

They stared at one another. The girl's eyes watered some more. Finally, she scrubbed at them, and attempted to get on her feet. It was a wobbly motion – Anima laughed at her uncoordinated knees – but the girl managed.

Anima hovered over to where they'd left the vulpix's pokéball, unwilling to stick around. The stench of Light hung to her every hair, still biting red and artificial, and Anima smirked knowingly down at her.

Stupid little firetail. You tried to flee, didn't you?

The vulpix's brown eyes were cold and assessing, watching Anima carefully.

You can answer, Anima wheezed, mouth wide and grinning. I won't tell.

If only because you are incapable of doing so, the vulpix finally growled, tails twisting and coiling in distaste. Her voice was high, for a thing with teeth. Anima had listened of tales of things with more than two teeth and deep, guttural voices. The others had lied – just like Anima had assumed. One could never trust a ghost, after all.

Behind them, the girl was somehow dragging herself through the tall grass. The swishing ferns were the only sounds in the clearing – the pungent smell of melting flesh and bone would ensure no prey would approach any time soon. They were stupid, yes, but not that stupid.

The girl stared at the two pokémon, eyes dry and dark, and then stuffed her pokéballs into her pocket. Anima smiled upon seeing that shade of clouded skies and heavy rain. Smiled long and steady like the buzz of her sprawling cloud.

Don't be like that, firetail, she laughed, still staring into the grey. You've come to us just as it gets interesting. You should be thankful.

The vulpix bared her fangs. They glistened in the sun, running along the light-brown color of her lip. Anima could almost be jealous; her own mouth was just an object to produce noise and fear. Teeth for injuring would come later, if she played her cards right. Which she would.

She has been broken, the vulpix replied curtly, that clicking voice lowering to a growl. The barkpup's death won't let her act anymore. You will return to your shadows soon enough, and I will return to my pack.

Anima allowed her gases to fizz as she laughed. Things with fur and teeth were always so amusing! How they banded together, how they thought themselves immune if their numbers were larger than most. They all ended up in the Rooms in the end.

What pack, firetail? You are like me, now. Your siblings will smell the Light in your fur and they will know you are no longer theirs. Anima descended until their eyes aligned, taking care to curl her cloud into a dark bubble. No, firetail, she added, her drool sweetening as the vulpix tensed in fear, you belong to the girl, now.

The vulpix's teeth were still there, a threat she wouldn't act on. Anima floated over to the immobile girl without looking away. And she laughed again and again.


The first time Anima had been released, she'd recognized her surroundings. The Tower looked over all the human lairs, and she had always enjoyed mixing her cloud with the others' when the wind didn't blow. But home was not a word she cared for, despite the robed women's attempts to teach it. There was only the Tower, the Ceiling, and the Rooms of Stone.

Now there was poison in the air, not just mountain breeze and lavender pollen, and Anima thrived. How wrong had her sisters been – to live was to see and consume, not to stay and endure.

That said, this gathering was far cleaner than the other one. The glass-forest had been appetizing; the seeded-plain was not. There was poison there still, like in most human settlements, but it was overshadowed by flowers and trees and fruit-bushes, and the fresh smell of clear water.

Still, Anima behaved. The growlithe's death had shaken the girl so much she hadn't even thought to return her, and Anima would see as much as she could. It was the first time she was outside for so long, after all.

Like all her siblings, she knew time was a construct. There was no time in the shadows her mother had spoken of. But her mother hadn't known what it was like to remain in a mechanical limbo for days at a time. The shadows were part of their world – the Light was a prison. One she didn't wish to return to. At least not so soon.

You understand this too, don't you? Firetail.

The vulpix had been ignoring her. Her ears betrayed her, twitching with every sibilant sound that Anima produced, but her eyes remained fixed on the girl's pockets.

I know you do, Anima went on, carefully closing in on her. The people in the park watched her sprawling cloud with a mix of confusion and suspicion, taking a step away if they needed to pass by the motionless girl. It's why you haven't tried to escape again. The girl would return you to the Light without batting an eye.

The vulpix remained silent. Anima gave up for the time being, closing her cloud into a firmer circle and setting herself on a spot beside the girl.

She had walked aimlessly – through a room with an alarmed, yelling man and into the seeded-plain of human lairs – without word or expression. Without even flinching and cowering from the people who stopped to stare at her tear-streaked face and bloody hands. And the vulpix couldn't realize how important that was! Couldn't realize what an improvement this was!

Sadly, the improvement had ended once the girl had entered an oxygen-exuding forest. Anima had hissed, and had struck out at the girl with gas, aching for a dirtier atmosphere … but she had just kept walking. That had been humiliating. If the girl cared not about the other humans, that would be fine. But Anima did not want to be ignored. Anima wanted to battle whichever leader the girl had been talking about. Anima wanted to win.

And wild things never did. She'd need a trainer to carve her place in history.

"Hey," a voice ventured from the stone pavement, "are you alright?"

Anima recognized his voice. He had made the girl warm to the touch; had been pleasant and constant where others were conflicted and apprehensive. She floated over to him, analyzing brown skin and furrowed brows, and then grinned at the pink babes crowding around his legs. They stiffened, and pressed against the boy's legs.

"… Geneva, right?" the boy went on, wide eyes on Anima's. He had apparently decided Anima wouldn't attack the pokémon he was walking, because he shifted his gaze to the girl again. "D'you remember me? We met here the other – uh, listen … Do you want me to call the police? Are you okay?"

"I'm …" the girl muttered, hands limp against her jeans.

Most of the blood had disappeared into those shades of black. Anima couldn't know what that felt like, but the smell was still there. In the fabric and in the wrinkles of the girl's fingers, under her broken fingernails.

The boy kneeled next to her slowly, hand tight around several leashes, and attempted to make eye contact with the girl.

Look, firetail, Anima said, smiling, it might turn out for the best, yet.

The vulpix's tails swerved from side to side. She still did not look at Anima.

"What happened?" the boy asked, hiding the fear in his body too well. If Anima wasn't capable of tasting it, she would've never known.

"The inevitable," another voice – sharp, unafraid – called out.

The girl glanced up into the blue color, made vibrant by the afternoon sun.

Look, firetail—look at how our destiny will change just because of this human's words. Can you feel it? You are far more perceptive than your flame cousins – you are far more in tune with the shadows than you let on—

"Can't leave you alone for two fuckin' seconds, honestly."

It was him. The voice who had sped up the girl's heart; the voice who had made her forget her fears; the voice she had been chasing since Anima had met her. And Anima couldn't tell what set him apart from the other humans – they all looked the same – but she knew. She knew.

"Pierce," the girl said, hands fisted and eyes wet.

The vulpix turned to stare at the girl, eyes attentive and still.

Ah-ha, Anima said, and laughed. So there is a brain in there, somewhere.

"In the priceless flesh," the boy replied, and pulled her by the hand.

"Hey," the other one said, getting up to his feet, "listen, I don't think—"

"Yeah, you clearly, obviously don't. Piss off and let me handle this trainwreck by myself, pretty boy." He set the girl's arm around his shoulder with a smirk in the other human's direction. "Just—I dunno, keep walking those hairballs before they get cellulite, or whatever it is you do."

The brown-skinned human's eyes went wide, darting from the boy to the girl. The fear and indecision in him were pungent, so Anima took a mouthful of air and grinned.

This is, the vulpix began, nearly hissing, this is an atrocious—

It is glorious, Anima corrected, hovering after the two hugging humans. You will learn.

Whether she wanted to or not. With this boy, there was only one option, and it was always the one he chose.

And Anima let him, because she too wanted to win.


The dinky hotel smelled like food. Anima took as much poison as she could, hovering near the smokers huddled at the entrance while the boy dragged the girl into the building, those blue eyes cold.

As the elevator doors opened, the boy glanced down at the vulpix, still trotting after the girl, and then stared up at Anima. What a glorious smile! A slow thing that flashed white and something threatening. The vulpix ought to learn.

Anima grinned back, never the one to back down from a challenge, and followed the group into the elevator. She decided to be polite and sucked in her cloud a little, though she kept her eyes on the boy.

"Your gastly's too fierce for you," the boy said, still glancing up at Anima. The girl's eyes, still empty and tired, latched onto the side of his face. "How did you even get here without dying?" He looked at her, eyes mockingly wide. "Huh, well, considering the state you're in—"

"It was my growlithe," the girl cut in, and averted her eyes to the glowing button the boy had pressed. "Ardens."

Her eyes went wet again.

"What, did you overfeed him?"

Anima stifled her laughter, pressing her gas tight to her core to avoid wheezing. The girl's eyebrows twitched, then frowned infinitesimally.

"There was an ekans … it …" she whispered, and gripped her arms with both hands. The boy's arm was still around her shoulders, like a leash. "It was my fault."

"I never doubted you for a second," he said, smirking. "Should've known you'd set a record."

"It's not funny," she said.

"It's not," the boy admitted, shrugging. "But shit happens. You and I know that better than anyone. This is barely even a bump in the road."

She edged away from his arm, shoulders tight. Anima couldn't help laughing, this time, and the boy's smirk faded into a grimace, his eyes hard. They reminded Anima of the ice spears that dripped from the Roof in the harshest winters.

You see? she told the boy, capturing the vulpix's attention. She has become stronger since you left her, dark-heart.

And to think Anima actually felt proud! It must've been the Light; Anima had heard that it twisted its captives' insides, that it turned them pliable and easy to assuage. It would happen to her, too, in time – or was that just a story for formerly wild things to excuse their mollified behavior? The Tower held bodies as large as its doors – mighty horn-kings and horn-queens that had respected—even loved—their trainers.

Ah, well. It didn't matter, now. You could love someone and still hate them, right?

The boy looked away from Anima and turned Geneva towards him, hands grabbing at her forearms.

"So, what," he sneered, "you're giving up already? That traumatized wannabe shtick is old, Gev, and you're not pretty enough to be a soap opera actress."

"What do you want me to act like, Pierce?" Her voice was low but it held a strength inside it. Anima grinned at the sound, poisonous tendrils undulating.

The elevator came to a halt before the boy could answer. Perhaps it was for the best – Anima could feel bitter things rising from both humans, and though she usually enjoyed the taste, she didn't want to risk losing the girl to this boy once more. The Tower was a prison she didn't want to return to.

The two humans walked into the corridor. The girl stood one step behind, still slow but thankfully picking up speed, and followed after the boy.

"Well, I've got something for you, even if you're mouthing off like that," the boy said, sliding a scratched-up keycard into a slit. The door clicked open, and his motel room came into view as he walked inside.

Nothing impressive, but this Anima had already expected. It was certainly different from the pokécenter rooms she had watched from inside the Light – a dusty, untouched book on the nightstand, surrounded by plastic packages, and the smell of so many feelings that Anima felt woozy for a second. The pokécenters were cleaner – in them resided exhaustion and wanderlust, whereas in this hotel there were more primal, filthy emotions.

Have your fill, why don't you, the vulpix mocked, growling deep inside her voice box.

Concern yourself with your own nourishment, Anima spat, unable to keep a straight expression.

The two humans were talking – the boy scoffed, and pulled the girl's clothes off of her body. Both Anima and the vulpix stared in confusion, for once partaking in the same emotion.

"—come here mucking up my motel room, gods' sakes," the boy was saying, shoving her jacket into an odd tall basket. "Like I got the dough to pay for cleaning."

The vulpix bristled, tails puffy, but the girl didn't seem to mind the harsh treatment. She remained as still as usual, not even wincing when her hair caught between the boy's hands and her turtleneck sweater. She was a thin thing, now that Anima had a good look – she would've looked easy to crush if not for the roundness contrasting in those two spots that some of the older humans had.

The boy dragged her into the bathroom, twisting the faucets to the dinky-looking shower, and Anima went along. She had always enjoyed bursting into the robed women's lavatories with her siblings, if only to laugh at their scared faces, and the interminable water had always fascinated her.

The vulpix stayed behind, narrowly avoiding being hit by the girl's stained jeans, and then the boy pushed her into the water. It ran pink, pooling at her feet, and her teeth chattered.

"C-Cold," the girl said, hands pressed against her strapped chest. Humans had so many layers to them! Was the boy going to take those two out, too, or were they attached to the skin?

"Yeah, it takes some time to warm up, but I figured you needed the wake-up call," the boy said, turning to the sink. His hands were pink too, probably from manhandling the girl. "Get that blood off of you. I'm going to swipe some shit from the buffet meals downstairs, so don't go anywhere." Then, in a smirking mutter: "Probably get another of your pokémon killed, huh? Better stay put, this time."

The girl looked away from him, those gray eyes darkening, and said nothing more as the boy exited the room, slamming the door on his way out.

What a miserable sight, the vulpix said, finally entering the room. She stared at the tiled floor with narrowed eyes, experimentally setting one paw in front of the other, and then jumped onto the closed toilet with an assessing look around.

I agree with you for once, Anima said, watching the girl stand immobile under the now steaming water. But it is better than before.

I suppose, the vulpix replied.

They watched the girl slowly fiddle with small packages that produced foam, the smell of fake flowers permeating the room – beneath her feet, the water finally ran clear. If only she could wash herself from the barkpup's death so easily, the vulpix said, likely without realizing.

The door slammed open as the girl wrapped herself around a towel, looking even more pathetic with her hair flat and wet against the fabric. It was the first time Anima saw it like this – it was usually unruly and wavy like a ninetales' behind.

"Fuckers were patrolling the buffet, can you believe it? They won't help you find your room, but they got the time to stand around cornflakes," the boy said, walking into the room and depositing a plastic bag on the bed. Anima phased through the wall to get a better look, curious of what food he'd procured. "I still managed to get some stuff, but honestly? Fuck'em."

"Thank you," the girl said, stepping out of the bathroom.

"Yeah, yeah," the boy said, extending two slices of bread in her direction.

The girl took them awkwardly, trying to keep the towel tightened around her, and sat next to him on the bed.

"Got some garlic butter if you want," he added, uncorking a water bottle.

"What am I going to do, Pierce?" the girl asked, staring at the bread.

"Well, first of all you're gonna eat something." The boy lifted the bread to her mouth and shoved it in, while taking a swig of his water. The girl's eyes widened, then blinked, and she struggled to swallow her food. "Next you're gonna take care of those clothes, 'cause I assure you they're going to reek of acid and blood if you don't hurry."

Must he keep touching her like this? the vulpix asked, still looking angry.

Humans who know each other for a long time are hard to understand, Anima explained, surrounding the plastic bag.

"Oh, yeah, also—" and the boy produced a scuffed-up pokéball from his pocket with a triumphant smirk, "—got you something nice, as a pick-me-up."

It was the first time Anima saw the girl smile – her whole face lit up despite the darkness in her eyes, those blunt human teeth shining whitely in the dim room. Human faces were so odd – this was no longer the girl, but another one, and just because of the angle of her mouth?

"Oh, Pierce," she began, and then reality ensued, and the glow disappeared from her expression. "I … I shouldn't …"

The boy snorted, eyes rolling, and stole half of her bread slice without remorse.

"So, what? You're quitting? Going back to Lavender with your tail between your legs?" His tone was a mix of disbelief and mockery, along with muffled bread sounds. "Say hi to Josh and his sister for me, yeah? Oh, and Mrs. Florence too, you wouldn't believe how I've missed her bitter old face."

He had apparently hit a nerve, because the girl flinched and took a bite out of her bread.

"And what about your mom?" he went on, this time searching for visual contact. Like a hound. "All that bullshit you've had to go through to leave that town, and you're just going to waste this chance? She'll never take you seriously again. The woman even gave you a starter pokémon, Gev." His face darkened, eyes averted to the curtain-covered windows. "It's more than my mom did."

See? Anima asked, whirling around the immobile vulpix. This was what I meant. He will not let her stop.

He wants something out of her, the vulpix replied, black eyes narrowed in the boy's direction.

Stupid firetail, Anima wheezed, attracting the attention of the two humans, don't we all?

The vulpix had no reply to that – or perhaps simply didn't want to say anything.

"I'm glad someone here has a sense of humor," the boy commented, blue eyes resting on Anima's. "Anyway, just keep the damn thing. It's either you or I'm releasing it back into the wild."

The girl finished her bread slice, and peered at the pokéball resting on the bed.

"What is it?" she muttered, hand hovering above it like she was afraid to touch it.

"You'll just love it, I'll bet," the boy laughed. "It's a childhood favorite of yours, Gev. Your very own magikarp."

He mocks her with every word! the vulpix hissed, attracting the boy's attention. A weakfin, he gives her! Striking her when she's down, and it is a weakfin he gives her—

Anima grinned. The vulpix went silent, eyes wide.

He does. It's fascinating to see, wouldn't you say? How he keeps her going with such harsh words? I still have much to learn, I see.

"Prissy fox you've got there," the boy commented, warranting another hiss out of the vulpix. "Anyway, I'm gonna bounce. I've got to challenge Erika before the gym closes—you so owe me for today, by the way. Can't even challenge a fucking gym without you getting in my way, Gev!"

"You're leaving already," the girl whispered, picking up the magikarp's pokéball. Unlike the other time, it wasn't a question. "Right."

He rummaged through his bag quickly, and threw a t-shirt her way. Two small cardboard boxes spilled out of the mess – the vulpix frowned at them, but when she extended her neck to take a closer sniff, the boy glared her down.

"Keep your pokémon out of my shit. Damn rude creatures." With a quick movement, the mess was shoved back into the mouth of his bag, and he got to his feet. "I'll want that t-shirt back, too. Catch me at Cerulean."

"Right," the girl repeated, holding onto his shirt like it was her lifeline. "Cerulean."

"I won't wait up!" The boy winked at her, then made an offhand gesture at Anima and the vulpix, and slammed the door on his way out.

The girl watched the wood, then the stained carpets, and then her pokémon.

"What do you guys think?" she asked, voice brittle.

Does it matter? Anima laughed, her gases turning a shade lighter. You won't even begin to understand.

And the girl didn't. But she eventually got to her feet, picked up her discarded clothes from around the room, and got dressed. The boy's blue shirt was too strong a color for her – but it was clean, and covered the worst blood stains on her jeans. Ready or not, she would have to keep walking.

The worst is yet to come, the vulpix said, following after the girl when she exited the room.

Perhaps, Anima agreed, extending herself around the girl's shoulders, but so is the best.

To that, the vulpix had no reply.


Much to Anima's horror, once the first machine had finished its cycle, the girl had grabbed her clothes and put it in another one.

Anima couldn't tell exactly how much time had passed, but it had been far too much. And now she would have to wait again?

This machine didn't swing or clunk, nor did it foam up and smell like fake flowers. It was faster, and quieter, and thus far more boring. Was this entertaining for humans? Because it was not entertaining for Anima.

She floated over to the girl, sitting quiet on one of the benches, and tried to will her into leaving, or training, or doing anything else. But, for once, the girl didn't even register her. Anima managed to pull an eye-flicker out of the girl when she hissed at her, smoke tendrils flaring, but the girl had just gone back to staring at the machines.

Well, this certainly couldn't be happening. It was bad enough that the girl was catatonic again, but the fact that the vulpix seemed far too pleased with herself, licking dirt and fumes out of her hair … No, this couldn't be happening. Anima had plans, after all. She was going to be stronger than even her mother, and she was doing to prove herself to all of her Tower siblings. Maybe even the world.

It's useless, the vulpix said, stretching out one elegant paw. It had been licked clean. She won't be doing much of anything, today.

Anima contemplated this. The vulpix was probably right, but Anima didn't want to agree with her. She kept quiet, instead, and looked at the girl again.

If the girl wasn't going to do much of anything, today, well. Tomorrow would be another day, right? There was only so much you could grieve over a growlithe. Especially one that had been so daft. Killed by an ekans, and a babe at that! The idiocy was astounding.

Resisting the urge to laugh and draw attention from the vulpix, Anima looked at the girl, and made plans. Tomorrow would be another day. If the girl went on letting Anima out of her pokéball, then maybe …

Pleased with that thought, Anima slunk over to a corner of the room, and sprawled out her cloud. The machine would eventually turn off, like the other one had, and humans needed sleep and nourishment. And Anima, well…

Anima could wait.


The young human at the pokécenter counter had looked at the girl for a long time, smelling of curiosity and alarm, but the girl had slinked by without even noticing. She took out a plate of something green, ate one third of it, and waited for the vulpix to wolf down her meat. Anima drifted from table to table, amusing herself by terrorizing the dining trainers and their pokémon. She had eaten a lot, today, and she was feeling just fine.

"Get a hold of your pokémon, or I'll do it for you," a boy said, bringing a trembling cleffable into his lap and glaring daggers at Anima.

"Anima," the girl said, without looking up from her plate.

Anima stuck her tongue out at the boy, but decided not to make a scene. She instead floated over to the girl, gathering her cloud, and there she stood for the rest of the meal. The vulpix looked amused, but didn't say anything.

On their way to the room, the human at the counter had looked at the girl again, and even gotten up from his seat with an open mouth, but the girl passed by without looking up from the floor. The door to her room slid open, then closed, and she once again discarded layers of herself. She exchanged them for the ones smelling of fake flowers—Anima supposed this was why humans waited so long for machines?—and sat on her bed with glassy eyes.

The vulpix sat on the rug on the floor, looking at her.

"You know, I—" the girl began, sounding as if someone had pulled all the air out of her. "I'd thought of a name for you. Do you want it?"

Anima held in her laughter. All the vulpix wanted was to leave, and yet here the girl was, ready to domesticate it further.

The vulpix glared at Anima's corner, tails swishing. Like you can mock me, Anima, she said, guttural.

"Is that a yes?" the girl asked, oblivious as ever.

It is unique, Anima replied, and it sets me apart from my brethren. How could I ever dislike being set apart from a sea of failures, firetail?

The vulpix did not reply. Her eyes were blazing coals, her hatred hot, but she did not reply.

"Then, how about Candida?" the girl went on, voice a whisper. "It's … it means bright, and fair. Or, or white. Because your evolution is … you know."

Anima did, if only from engraved tombs. The vulpix—Candida, now—stared at the girl. Unimpressed, maybe? Either way, it was all very funny, so Anima laughed.

"A-And you can sleep on the bed, if you want," she said, eyes brighter. It was a matter of time before she began watering again. "A-Ardens liked it, I think, at—at least it looked like he—"

She hiccupped, and went quiet. But she did not cry. She only stared at the floor again, hands lying limp in her flower-scented lap.

Anima turned towards the corner, feeling bored, and closed her eyes. Her species didn't sleep, not unless forced to, but they were good at waiting. And it was probably going to be a long night; the girl wasn't very skilled at sleeping either, so Anima doubted anyone would fall asleep easily tonight.

She waited, looking at a faint stain on the wall. Hovered, stared, uncurled and curled her gas. Eventually, when the smell of exhaustion took over, she turned towards the rest of the room. Candida stared back, eyes still and dark. On the bed, the girl was passed out, face half-buried in the fabric and chest rising shlowly.

Candida, is it? Ah, I do like my name better, Anima said, and opened her mouth in a grin.

I care not what you like, said Candida. Nor do I care for a human's fancies. My name is my own, given by my mother.

Stupid firetail. Your name is Candida, and it is given by your master, Anima replied, coming down to look at her better. You'll soon know what it feels to be called.

The unforgiving Light pulled them without effort, but so did the girl's voice. Unlike the Light, though, it was easy enough to disregard her, though Anima had been promised otherwise by her mother. Perhaps it would be a matter of time? If so, Anima had to enjoy it while it lasted.

What should we call her, then? Anima asked.

Candida stared, head cocking slightly: Is it not obvious?

How about raingaze? Anima asked again, ignoring Candida. The color of her eyes looks like the sky of a storm.

What are you saying, darkcore? Humans don't get nicknames, Candida replied, looking at Anima like she was rotten carrion. There is only a master, and the rest.

Candida (and here the vulpix hissed, much to Anima's amusement), you are stubborn, but you are not stupid. Anima spun on herself, then sprawled out on the carpet, alongside Candida. You saw the blue-eyed boy.

And if I did? the vulpix asked. Loud and malicious. I care not for him.

Loud and malicious, perhaps. But he was meaningful, stupid firetail. He is not an outsider! He is not part of the rest! Shaking the girl into action again – imagine if he hadn't! We would be released or buried. Ah, Anima jeered, perhaps that's what you were expecting? To be set free?

Candida let the flash of a flame slip out through sharp white teeth.

Blame him if you want, Anima went on, moving back just in case, but face the facts.

Candida growled – and the girl shifted, hands tight around the covers. Anima slid a tendril across her face, clearing most of the poison, and the girl was still once more. Her breath was shallow and slow, but there.

Anima returned her poison to her core, and faced the vulpix's disgusted face.

Don't scream, firetail, or you're no better than a babe. The human needs sleep, and we need our privacy.

Candida seemingly wanted to wake the girl up, if only to spite Anima, but forcefully relaxed her muscles and curled a single tail around her paws. Anima pretended not to see the white glint of her claws as they receded.

Raingaze, Anima whispered graciously, tendrils of smoke curling around their trainer's feet. She is a raingaze as you are a firetail as I am a darkwalker.

If anything, she is a fog – not a storm, Candida sneered. Do not get ahead of yourself, darkcore, if you hope to ever become a darkwalker.

Anima laughed at the biting tone, tongue lolling out: but it rolls off the tongue so nicely, firetail! She sucked it in with a wet sound, grinning wide. Besides, I know more of the rain than you do. You hid in caves and hollow trees while I uncurled across my Tower's roofs. Believe me, you lap-pet. Fog is nothing more than rain spread thin. And they both can be storms, can they not?

Candida seemed to contemplate this, if the twitching of her left ear was of any indication.

We will see, she said dismissively, turning her face away as she laid down to sleep on the rug.

And so it was decided.


Pokémon Trainer (Encyclopedic Glossary): A person who catches, trains, cares for, and battles with pokémon.


A/N: this chapter's song is "the heat", by jungle.

i've been itching to write from pokémon perspective, and i figured a traumatized geneva would be less boring to witness from the outside. so it was time for anima – and others - to shine! i've always thought OT fics always focus on their trainers' POV too much. while that can work, i wanted to try my hand at writing from geneva's pokémon's POV too.

i argued with myself for a long time about inserting pokémon translators into the story, but i thought that they wouldn't fit this fic's "realistic-type" setting. in R&R, most pokémon are animals who are unable to verbalize what they are thinking. i think that learning what your pokémon's ear twitching means is more satisfying than having it literally say "scratch my ear, won't you?" also, the research i have to do on animal behavior is interesting lol

again, this is just my thought on it. i've read many fics who make the translators work just fine, and even bring more to the story for it. but i'll stick to the gestures and growls for now.

re: pierce popping up everywhere – well, so does your rival in the games! if game freak can pull that card, so can i ;)

the update might take a long time because i'm currently taking my master's degree, and it's deadlines' season. tbh, this update only happened because i'd already written most of it back in september/october.

reviews fuel the writing machine, though, and also remind me that life isn't just about college. so please. help me survive this.

as always, thank you for reading this experimental piece, and sorry for uploading the wrong chapter at first !