(Writer's note: Sorry I kept you all waiting so long!)

"You know the drill, Joe!" Mark says as we step out of the hospital.

"Alright, let's meet up at…" I answer, but he cuts me off.

"No, wait… Let's do things a bit different. Go home, and I'll pick you up there. Today you ain't driving – you're drinking. We're celebrating harder than before."

I chuckle, think for a few seconds, then nod in agreement. Not much later, we were sitting at our usual spot inside the nameless pub we would always go to, laughing and sipping drinks. The euphoric atmosphere, the dim neon lights, the drinks themselves, seemed as though they were just a dream that I was having, and that I would snap back to Dr. Goldberg's office at any moment – But it was all true. It was happening.

I was, for once in my life, complete.

As real as my happiness was though, the celebration still felt surreal. Seemed like after only a few drinks and, in the blink of an eye, I was back at my place. I was lying on the couch with a splitting headache, missing my shirt and one of my shoes and with a head-splitting headache. I try to sit upright, but the world spins around me and I collapse back on the couch, landing on my other side. Groping through my pants, I manage to retrieve my phone (much to my own relief) and check for notifications.

"Call me back as soon as you wake up. I want to make sure you didn't drown on your own puke during your sleep. – Mark"

"That was really nice of you, Mark. Have you seen my shirt anyway?" I type back. Then, I glance at the clock in the corner of the phone's screen, and my heart sinks. If my eyes weren't deceiving me, I had overslept about one hour past my usual time.

The sudden adrenaline rush allowed me to break several personal records, including: taking a shower in record time, swearing at a record rate of words per minute, and driving at a record speed to the hospital.

"Sorry for being late!" I say, storming into the staff room, drawing a confused look from Ms. Snow and the other nurses inside.

"Today's your day off, you dingus." I hear Mark's voice behind me. "You're supposed to be home sleeping."

"Eeeeeeeh… I completely forgot about that. Sorry." I say, rubbing my head, and looking down, searching for any holes I can dive into and hide from my workmates' laughter.

"Why won't we go check on Yazmin while you're here?" Mark says, laying a hand on my shoulder and guiding me out of the room, still giggling from my gaffe. I nod and follow him to the ICU.

Approaching Yazmin's bed, I see another doctor, about my father's age, sitting by the bedside. Upon noticing Mark and me, he stands up, stretching out a hand. "I'm Dr. Moore, neurologist." We shake his hand, introducing ourselves.

"I… I don't even know what to say." He speaks, straightening his greyish hair. "I've never seen anything like this before. It's like she just took a nap and woke up the morning after."

My jaw drops. "Do you mean…"

"…Yes. She's absolutely fine. No brain damage of any sort." He nods and blinks, as if Mark and me were mirages before his eyes. "We could take her case to international conferences… If you consent, of course. She's under your guard now, or so I've been told."

"We can discuss that later.", I say, smiling and walking around him to approach Yazmin, who had been silently staring at us the whole time, eyes jumping between Dr. Moore and me as if she were watching a tennis match.

"Um… Hello there." I say, sitting by her bed, resting my hand above her head. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Mark guiding the neurologist out of the ICU, giving us some privacy.

Yazmin slowly turns her gaze at me, then returns to staring at the wall across from her bed.

"How are you feeling? Are you comfortable?"

Silence.

"You… You were in a terrible accident. It was so serious that you went out for almost a month, and… I thought you wouldn't come back for a second. I'm glad you did." I say, sighing.

She once again turns to face me.

"No one came for you. But… Don't worry. I've been here for you along. And I'll always be. Would you… Would you like to come home with me?" Then, I look into her eyes, and see them grow damp, as a furred claw reaches for my other hand.

Right as she grabs hold, Miss Snow walks in, hesitating as if she knew she had broken the atmosphere.

"Dr. Rosewood…" She says, handing me a document. "She's clear to go home. All the specialists have examined her, all you have to do is sign." I promptly oblige. "And, one more thing… The orthopedist said she should refrain from battling for six months at the very least. And that's all." She smiles, taking the signed document from my hands, and walks away.

A long silence follows, as I sat there holding Yazmin's hand, looking down down at my shoes, blindly trying to read her emotions and see into her thoughts. The few times I lifted my gaze to her, I could see her staring at me. Little by little, the message in her eyes made itself clear to me, and all along she was begging. If for forgiveness or for mercy, I do not know.

"C'mon, Yazmin. Let's get the hell outta' Dodge." I say, standing up and leaning over the bed to help Yazmin sit upright. "Let me help… Can you walk?" I say, placing both hands under her arms to help her slide off the bed. Even though she managed to stand up up her own, her legs fell limp within a few seconds and she collapsed against me.

"Whoa! Easy… Easy…"

I carefully set in over a wheelchair conveniently positioned by the bedside, and try to break away in order to get behind and push, but the Zoroark remains clinging to me, as if afraid of falling through her seat.

"It's okay, Yazmin, it's okay… Now can you excuse me?"

She slowly lets go of me, looking down and setting both hands over her thighs. I walk around the chair and pull it out of the room, heading for the parking lot. With a bit of resistance, I managed to get her into my passenger seat, and pull the wheelchair back to the hospital's doors before leaving.

Yazmin remained silent the whole time. From the medical supplies store, where I got her a wheelchair of her own and a pair of crutches, to the department store, where I got a brand-new mattress and pillows, and then on the way back home, she didn't make a sound and barely moved at all, holding the same sorrowful demeanor.

I'm not gonna lie – her silence was making me pretty upset. So, after arriving home and setting up the new mattress over the bed's frame at the guest room and lining it with sheets and pillows, I introduced Yazmin to her new home, walking away for a brief moment to fetch a hammer from my toolbox.

"Yazmin…" I said in a serious tone, keeling before her wheelchair. "This is your Pokéball." I continued, showing the Pokéball issued to me by the Social Service lady along with my Trainer Card a couple of days earlier. "Let's make something clear… I don't want you bound to me against your will. If I ever upset you, or treat you wrong, you are free to run away. But, just so you know… I'll always try my best for you."

And, after taking a deep breath, I set the Pokéball on the carpeted floor before me and Yazmin and shatter it with my hammer, rendering it useless.