Here I stand, my second match for the day and nearing the semifinals. Both Roger and I have made it this far, surprisingly. I don't know how I'm lasting; I can only assume that the Riolu still in me is the one wielding the greatest of my strength. Strength that I take control of now as I quickly dodge the plowing fist of my opponent, setting him off balance for enough time to grab him by the wrist, jerk him into place, and land a powerful punch to the side of his face. As he stumbles back, I release, getting into position for the next attack.

There are so few fighters now that the match has been moved to a more suitable arena. An actual fighting ring, minus the grandeur of the one meant for the finals. We've already seen Roger's and Medicham's matches- both early in the morning and with narrow wins- so the siblings sit up in the stands rooting for me. It's nice to have them cheering me on, if it weren't for the fact that some of their calls to 'look out', 'do this', and 'keep an eye on that' are a little distracting.

Speaking of distractions, while my opponent might not be bad in terms of difficulty, his fan club is getting on my nerves. Dressed as a matching set, all in costumes to look like Hawlucha in a variety of bright colors- some of which I don't even think exist in real life- they feel the need to shout about every single thing that happens in the fight. From what the ref said, they're a wrestling club from a region called Kalos, and came all the way here just for the Battle Royale.

Their captain just so happens to be the one I'm battling.

He's not a huge brute like you'd think: While nicely built, he's actually very lithe and limber. But his problem is that, when he goes on the offense, he throws himself forward at full force. I get that in wrestling you want to overpower your opponent, but if he's going to keep falling off balance, he's going to have some trouble. It makes me wonder if they're group is fairly new.

Once he's recovered, he keeps his arms level to his chest, elbows in, and bounds toward me. Perhaps it's a little unorthodox, but I literally just wait for him to approach, put my hands on his shoulders, and leap over him. And once I'm on my feet again, I spin fast to kick him down. Dare I say that that I'm actually starting to enjoy all of this, but I might as well go ahead and finish this now. I move, putting him in a twister lock hold from behind.

After a moment, the ref calls time.

"Where do you learn that?" the young man gasps as we help each other up. "You wrestle too?"

"Had a good teacher," I reply, making my way off to the side to accept a water bottle from Flora, giving a nod of thanks in turn. I'm beginning to find that the more I fight the more I learn of my past here. I'm seen myself with Grovyle before he had evolved. I've seen myself in friendly company with Dusknoir. I've seen myself train and fight, just as I had in the dark future, but not for any other reason save for my enjoyment of it.

"Can't believe I got beat by a girl…" I hear him mumble to himself, blushing hard as his friends come over to him.

"Work on balance." I say, wiping my mouth free of water before taking another long chug. I don't even give him time to react from being overheard as I quickly say, "Nice fight though," and make my way out of the ring.

I'm starting to finally get the hang of things. This isn't as bad as I had originally figured, but there's not a doubt in my mind my success also involves my formerly being a Fighting-type, and not only that, but having trained in fighting styles since I was little to actually put them to use beyond a hobby. Most of my opponents are around my age, but even the older ones lack the experience I've had. Guess hunting down criminals and saving the world for a living has more than just its immediate rewards.

"I feel gross," I voice to Flora, accepting a towel from a volunteer to dab away some of the sweat.

She chuckles, "I didn't want to say anything, but you smell gross too. You and my brother!"

"It's the stench of warriors!" Roger teases, pulling his sister in a bear hug and messing up her hair.

The young girl writhes in disgust, the look on her face absolutely priceless. "Eww… Get away from me! You're soaked in sweat!" The two of us can't help but laugh at her expense, but Roger shows her mercy by letting her slip free from his hold. "Great, you got it all over me. Now I'll have to change…"

"The two of us could use a shower anyway," I say with a light laugh. "Why don't we all head back to the room before lunch?"

And so we do. I'm surprised at how grimy I can feel at just breaking a sweat. As a Riolu, I don't remember hardly ever worrying about my appearance unless it was really bad save for my uncontrollable bedhead when I'd wake up in the mornings. And then, that was always when my hair was a tangled mat. Even as a human growing up in the dark future, I didn't worry all too much about personal hygiene. Maybe since I was always with Pokemon, I was never really concerned with the thought of getting dirty. Dirt and sweat were just part of everyday. Now, however, surrounded by people who wash and remain pristine clean when they can, it's like the nature has begun to rub off on me.

I can't help but be in amazement at all the technological differences in the two worlds I've lived in. Warm rain drizzling out of a pipe at the simple turn of a handle? Soap in liquid form that untangles my hair in no time that I don't have to grind myself from wild plants? I'm in heaven. It certainly beats showering off in the rain or bathing in a stream- not so much bathing as playing- with others who get to see you in all your flattened, wet furred, glory.

If the three of us weren't sharing a bathroom, I could likely spend all day in here. But I can already hear Roger pounding on the door, awaiting his turn, even though it's only been maybe five minutes. Getting all of the suds out, I wrap a towel around me and step out of the shower, the soft mat on the floor tickling my bare feet.

Pulling a few wet strands of hair behind my ear, I find myself glancing sideways into the mirror. The face of a stranger, so new yet so familiar all the same, stares back at me. All widened eyes of curiosity and not a freckle in sight to dot my face. Slim shoulders and smooth skin. Peculiar little ears and lips of a dusty rose. I don't know what to make of her, this girl. Not without her snarky grin, eyes of good mirth and mischief, and air of certainty. What do I see now? Someone confused, and lost, and torn. Someone for once in her life unsure about the next steps to take. So… is this what I've become now? Have I really let all of this- the questions, the worries, the nightmares- get to me in a way that I hardly recognize my own reflection anymore?

There's another round of pounding on the door and a shout for me to hurry up, snapping me out of it. The minute, I step out of the bathroom, Roger rushes in, a sigh of relief leaving him as he slams the door shut.

I find Flora and Roger's Pokemon as they were when we first walked in: All still napping in a mass on the forth bed in the room as a group. Flora, however, isn't quite where I remember leaving her- picking out a new outfit to put on after Roger got sweat stains all over her clothes.

She's by my bed. Going through my stuff.

"Is this all you have?" she questions rather than apologizing for the intrusion of my personal belongings. She holds up a pair of wrinkled, green cargo pants for inspection. "You don't even have a cute swimsuit."

I fold my arms over my chest, leaning against the wall. "Sorry my wardrobe doesn't meet standards, but it's never been a big concern of mine." Why would it be? How would it be anyone's if one spent their life wearing the same outfit just modified over the course of years? When I think of clothes, it's never about fashion; it's about functionality and worth in terms of usefulness

"But you're a coordinator!" She groans. "I don't know how things are here in Hoenn, but in Sinnoh, a coordinator needs to look the part." As she sets down the pants, starting to fold everything back up, I hear her mutter under her breath. "Not to mention you sleep in your clothes every night…" Once she's done stuffing all of my clothes back in, she plants her hands on her hips, spins around on her heel to face me, and grins, "Well that settles it! Today, we're definitely doing some shopping!"

I shake my head, "You know your brother and I are going to the gym-"

"No! Not tonight you aren't, missy!" She leaps over the Pokemons' bed, startling a few of them awake, to wave a finger in my face. "All you and Roger have done lately is battle and train without a moment to rest! You've got the same problem as him where you can't stop and live a little! Now your wardrobe is lacking, so we're going to explore this city and find you something nice and that's final!"

I roll my eyes, crossing over to find my clothes again to change into. "Fine," I groan, "I guess I do owe you after that night at the library. But," I turn to face her, "We're not going crazy."

….

After the first few shops, we've gone crazy.

No, we're not buying everything in sight- in fact, mainly we've just been browsing- but the shops and boutiques here are amazing. I'm used to seeing stands with shelves back behind them or little huts, not stores with multiple levels and rows upon rows of merchandise. It's a dramatic change, but what else should I have expected?

Flora's the one doing most of the actual shopping, but I have found a few things here and there: some hair ties, a pair of black jogging pants, a new hairbrush since the one I have is a little worse for wear. Somehow, the young teen managed to get me to try on a dress with a sky blue skirt and white bodice. Well, it was either this or a froufrou green one covered in flowers that she said would look great if Grovyle and I were in a contest together. Slipping it on, even I have to say, while it's not exactly me, it's not half bad. Might need to wear something other than leg wraps or hiking boots, but not bad at all.

We each step out of the changing rooms to take a good long look at each other. I in my blue and white summer dress and she in a pink pastel one with little rose appliqués decorating the hem of the skirt. Neither of us can help but smile, and I have to admit that this whole shopping day thing isn't as bad as I figured it might be.

"You look great," she compliments, "It's so cute on you!"

"Same goes for you!" I smile. "Is this it then? Are we going to go to lunch?" This is nice and all, but I'm starving! I swear my stomach's eating itself inside out by now.

"Let's look around a little more." Probably reading the disappointment on my face, she then quickly offers, "But right after, let's eat. I've wanted to check out this frozen yogurt shop anyway, and there's a noodle shop nearby that. Afterwards, we can look around some more. We still need to find you a swimsuit after all."

"So you keep telling me," I reply, heading over to a table decorated with lovely, mythical glass orbs with foggy centers, and covered in different outfits all made from a flowing violet material. I run my fingertips over it inquiringly. It feels almost like silk, but there's something… I don't know. Something just a little weird about it.

"You see something else?" Flora asks, checking out the clothes on the table for herself. "These are cute."

"They're not a little…" I pick one up to examine it further, "odd to you?"

"Well, they're little creepy, but in a good way," she pulls up a scarf from the mix and continues, "I think these are the sort of clothes that coordinators and trainers who have Ghost-types wear."

That makes sense, but there's more to it than that. I just get a really weird feeling, being near these. It's like a sort of energy comes from them, almost like aura.

The next thing I know, Flora drapes the scarf around my neck overtop the pale yellow one, and pouts. "Nuh-uh," she says after a moment, "If it just weren't for your eyes. No offense to you or anything, but I've just never even met a person with orange eyes before."

She keeps going on about the clothing, but all her words suddenly seem to fade out. My head begins to pound and I have to lean my weight against the table to keep from falling as the shop begins to spin. The Dimensional Scream… I think dizzily. But… Why here? Why is it activating here?

I have little time to wonder as I fall faint to another memory.