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Chapter XI: In Which Paul Loses His Heart

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June 18th, 2009. Morning. La Rousse City.

Drew had one and only one amusing thought that morning: What if someone mistook him for his father?

Although, truthfully, it was hardly amusing. Maybe in a morbid, objective sense it was; it would be the stuff of a comedy, a crowd of mourners panicking because they thought the unknown child of the deceased was a spirit come to admire his own funeral. When the thought occurred to Drew, however—when he looked in the mirror that morning, dressed in a suit and tie, and realized, 'Arceus, I do look like him'—he didn't feel like laughing. Mostly, he was irritated at the prospect, but the feeling was welcome in a weird way, because he hadn't felt much at all that week.

Drew headed down the grand staircase and found Harley sitting on of the red velvet sofas, idly playing a game on his phone. He, too, was dressed in black.

"Where's Solidad?" Drew asked stiffly. "We have to leave soon."

"I told you already, kiddo," Harley answered without looking up. "She had to run an errand."

Drew let out a frustrated sigh. Solidad had insisted she come, and though Drew had repeatedly told her that wasn't necessary, he was glad she was there in La Rousse with him—he only wished she had left Harley behind.

"What could she possibly have to do right now?" Drew mumbled. "The service is starting soon."

"Why are you so antsy to be there anyway, Little Orphan Annie?" Harley asked dryly. "Oh, are you giving a speech?"

"I'm not. Elijah asked, but I said no. I didn't have anything to do with putting the service together—I'm just going," Drew said flatly. "Besides, people who talk at funerals are supposed to say nice things, and I don't have many nice things to say about my father."

"Ouch. Harsh." When Drew glowered at him, Harley added, "Hey, don't look at me like that. I get it. I wasn't close with my daddy either. Too camp for him, I guess."

Drew blinked. For the first time, a Harley comment was drawing out a hint of sympathy in Drew—but the moment soon ended when the front door opened and Solidad slid inside.

"Solidad, I-" Drew looked at her, but he stopped short when he realized who was with her. "May?"

Solidad smiled and shuffled off to the side, leaving May defenseless. Her eyes were wide, and her demeanor was nervous. Drew stared at her for a long time, still trying to process that she was actually there, standing in front of him, messy airplane hair and clothes and all.

"I-I know you said not to come," May began, breaking the silence, "but I looked into it anyway and saw there was a flight really early this morning, and I knew I would be cutting it close but-"

The rest of her words were lost against Drew's lips, reality having finally caught up with him. May did not expect this reaction, but it was definitely not unwelcome either.

"Gross," Harley scoffed, looking away. He was ignored, bar a roll of the eyes from Solidad. May laughed, nearly breathless, when Drew pulled away.

"So you're not mad?" she asked.

"No." Drew shook his head. "Why would I be?"

"Because you said not to come."

"There are a lot of things I say not to do." Drew's mood had taken an unexpected shift, one from apathy, perhaps with some underlying melancholy, to a spell of happiness. A spell, because it would surely wear off soon, considering where they were headed. "You flew all the way from Unova just to be here?"

"I thought it might help."

Drew's lip twitched into a smile, the first since Solidad had arrived yesterday morning (a smile that was, unfortunately, squashed by Harley's accompaniment).

"Well, it does," Drew said. "It really does."

May smiled, too, as she stepped back from him.

"I have a black dress in my bag," she said, pointing to it. "If you can give me just five minutes, I can change and we can go."

June 18th, 2009. Morning. Opelucid City.

"212," Georgia announced to herself when she came to stand in front of the door labeled as such. She didn't hesitate to raise a hand and knock before dropping it again, waiting.

"Door's unlocked, come in," she heard Trip say through the wood. Georgia turned the handle and found it was true, so she let herself inside, closing the door behind her.

She wasn't prepared for what she saw.

Trip sat cross-legged on the floor, sitting in front of a cheap bulletin board he surely had only recently bought from the store, considering he hadn't nailed it to the wall yet. Scraps of newspapers were scattered at his feet, as were shavings of printer paper. Trip held a pair of scissors in his hands, and he was working on cutting out an article from one spread.

"Hey," he said, casting her a cursory glance. "I'll be ready to leave in a few minutes."

She stared.

"Trip, with all due respect, what the hell are you doing?" she finally asked.

"Building my case." Trip took his newly cut-out article and, picking out a blue thumbtack from a jar, stuck it onto the board. There, it joined at least a dozen and a half other newspaper articles, both online and print.

"Your case for what?"

"This morning," Trip began simply, grabbing all the leftover scraps of paper and balling them up to throw them away, "the person who was attacked by that Minccino last month died. This situation just went from odd to serious. While the injuries were disfiguring, they should not have killed him."

"What situation?" Georgia asked, craning an eyebrow.

"Seventeen other trainers have been attacked by their Pokémon since the Minccino," Trip answered, pointing to the board.

"I haven't heard about this."

"Probably because you haven't been paying attention," he said dryly. "I plan on bringing this to Iris to prove my point. She needs to do something."

"What? Why?"

"She's the Champion," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "This is getting bigger, and it's going to blow up soon—and it would be better for everyone if she responded before it did."

"How do you know about all this anyway?"

"I've been keeping my eye on it for weeks."

Georgia let out a short, disbelieving laugh that sounded more like a scoff.

"And here you were, insisting you were just her photographer," she said.

"I am her photographer." Trip opened a cabinet in his desk and set the scissors inside. "And do you know what photographers do? They create images, which create perceptions. I'm here for one reason—to make Iris look good, to make her look like the leader she is. This means I have to know what other images and perceptions of her there are out there, so I know how to combat them. And what is media but a billion images?"

"Nice speech," Georgia said drolly. "I thought we were taking my profile pictures for the Elite Four today."

Trip now appeared mildly put off, but he didn't comment on it.

"Yeah..." He retrieved his camera bag of his desk and hung it around his shoulders. "We can go now."

"To where?"

"The Opelucid Gym." Trip grabbed the board, and Georgia glowered at him.

"Can't you save your conspiracy theory for another time?" she asked.

"We're taking your pictures at the Opelucid Gym." Now Trip sounded downright annoyed. "But, you're right, I'm sorry. Let me just put off telling Iris about this thing that could potentially kill people."

"Arceus, you're so dramatic." Trip opened his mouth to retort, but she quickly added with a wave of her hand, "No, wait, let's just pretend I didn't say that. I'm not in the mood for a lecture right now."

Trip shut his mouth again, though he remained irritated as Georgia held he door open for him so he could bring the board out with him into the hallway. She caught up with him not long after.

"You know, I really don't want to be seen with you in public with that," she said, and he groaned.

June 18th, 2009. Morning. La Rousse City.

"This church is beautiful," May marveled, walking hand-in-hand with Drew into the throng of people. Solidad and Harley were not far behind.

"Yeah, sure is," Harley agreed. "Solidad, make sure you get a church this big and fancy for my funeral when I die. Bigger if you can, in fact. I know there will be thousands of mourning fans who want to pay their respects, and I want them all to fit."

"Harley, you're an atheist," Solidad pointed out.

"So?" Harley scoffed. "Then it'll turn into a show. My empty, sinful vessel will incur the wrath of Arceus, and he will set my coffin aflame as soon as it's laid before the pews."

Drew wasn't paying attention to the conversation. His eyes were scanning the crowd, wondering if he would recognize anyone. He did—three people, in fact. Elijah, Ana, and Olivia were standing together, which Drew would have expected. What he did't expect, however, was to see the distress in their expressions; Ana's face was buried in her hands, and she appeared to be crying.

"Excuse me?" Drew turned his eyes away from the scene, toward a middle-aged man who had approached. "Are you Andrew Hayden, Christopher Rogers's son?"

"Just Drew, please," Drew politely corrected.

"My name is Casper Eadward," the man introduced himself. "I was your father's lawyer. Would it be possible for me to speak with you following the service?"

"I'm leaving for the airport almost immediately afterward, so no," Drew flat-out rejected him.

"Do you have a few minutes now then?" Casper asked.

Drew furrowed his eyebrows, and May looked at him with a wondering expression. Their gazes connected, and she nodded to him, assuring him it was okay.

"... Sure," Drew finally answered. He then turned to May, Solidad, and Harley, saying, "Go on, I'll catch up."

May loosened her hand from his without complaint, but Solidad looked suspicious. She mouthed the words "good luck" to Drew before leaving with Harley and May. Drew turned back to Casper.

"What's this about?" he asked.

"Your father's last will and testament," Casper answered simply.

"A... will?" The thought of a will, strangely enough, had not occurred to Drew. He wasn't sure why; he supposed coping—if that was the right word—with his father's death had dismissed all other thoughts.

"I'll make this brief Mr. Hayden," Casper said. "He's left you everything."

Drew blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"His estate, his business, his wealth—he left it all in your name."

There were several potential reactions Casper probably had in mind when he told Drew this information—happiness and shock among them; after all, he had just delivered the news Drew was now a millionaire. Yet, Drew's expression showed neither of these emotions. His face was blank as he processed this information—and then he look angry.

"The Battle Tower?" Drew seethed. "He left me the Battle Tower?"

Casper drew back in surprise.

"Yes," he answered. "I... was actually quite surprised when he requested my presence last Thursday and wanted to change the recipients named on his will. I've been your father's lawyer for a decade, and I never knew he had a son."

"Yeah, we were... estranged..." Drew mumbled, still upset. "You said this happened last Thursday?"

"That's correct."

"The day he died?"

Casper nodded, and Drew let out a shaky breath.

"Who were recipients before me?" he asked.

"An assortment of people," Casper replied. "It won't be difficult to learn who, I imagine."

Drew initially didn't know what he meant. Then, his eyes slowly turned back toward the place where Elijah, Ana, and Olivia had been. They were gone.

"Answer me this at least: One person on the will, was he—or she—an... 'old friend'?" Drew's gaze was still averted.

"Your father had many old friends."

Drew pursed his lips.

"Elijah never told me my father had talked to you the day he died," he said.

"Elijah Colress?" Casper inquired.

Drew gave Casper an odd look—and then it occurred to him that Elijah had never told him his last name.

"I think so..." Drew trailed off.

"He was one of the former recipients," Casper informed him.

"Great," Drew bitterly mumbled. He rubbed his temple, now trying to make some sense of everything he now knew.

Casper waited for Drew to speak further, but when he didn't, the lawyer clicked his tongue and said, "So, as you can see, this is an important matter, and I would like to discuss making sure you receive-"

"-I'm sorry. I can't stay," Drew abruptly cut him off. "I really was serious when I said I was leaving for the airport right afterward."

Casper frowned.

"May I leave my card with you, then, so we can discuss this at a later time, when it is convenient for you?" he suggested as he reached into his pocket and pulled one out, handing it to Drew.

"Yeah, thanks," Drew said, hastily storing the card away for later. His eyes were in the crowd again, and he thought he caught a glimpse of Elijah's slick blonde hair. "Please excuse me."


"There are so many people here..." May mused aloud as she squeezed through the crowd. "I hope, someday, this many people show up to my funeral."

Harley and Solidad were on her tail as they moved through the poorly-formed line to pay their respects to the open casket. Harley cast a quick glance about the place—not so much the venue itself, with the stained glass windows depicting Arceus and Rayquaza and Groudon and Kyogre, among other Legendary Pokémon, stretching up the stony walls, but rather, the people.

"Actually, there were far more people than this who showed up to your funeral," he said. "It was combined with thirteen other people, but still."

May blinked, confused. Then it hit her what he was referring to.

"Oh," was all she could say.

The next few minutes were carried out in silence. They were getting closer to the coffin.

"You know, I kind of wish I could've met him," May spoke again. "I knew Drew didn't like him, but... I don't know, I feel like it would have helped me understand Drew better."

"You're not missing much," Solidad said frankly. "He was a despicable person."

May and Harley both looked at Solidad in surprise, before Harley chuckled and said, "Damn. The shade is real."

Solidad let out a short, nervous laugh, too.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's bad practice to speak poorly of people at their funerals."

The line moved, and it was now their turn at the casket. May felt her stomach begin to knot. She had seen imminent death in someone's eyes, in their face—but she had never seen a dead body. She wasn't sure which would be worse, but she was about to learn.

May was more unnerved than she was sad when she saw Chris's now-waxy face in the coffin. He almost didn't look human, and it was strange to think that at one time, he was. Solidad observed the scene solemnly, though her eyes were drawn to a peek of purple rising from beneath his shirt, up his neck.

"I didn't realize Drew looked so much like him," May breathed.

"Well, yeah, genetics," Harley mumbled. May ignored the comment, continuing to take in the scene. Then, she inhaled more sharply as her breathing suddenly and unexpectedly became more labored. She had to turn away, and Harley and Solidad looked at her in alarm.

"May, what's the matter?" Solidad asked, her voice full of concern as she laid a hand on May's shoulder.

"I-I'm sorry, I just-" May stopped short, shaking away the watery edge to her tone. "It's stupid, I know. But with how similar Drew and Chris look, it crossed my mind for a moment that this is probably what Drew would look like if he were... Anyway, it just freaked me out."

Solidad frowned and exchanged a quick, furtive glance with Harley before looking back at May.

"We should find Drew again," she said.


Every time Drew thought he saw Elijah among the sea of people, he either slipped beneath the waves again, or Drew got caught in the current. Another flash of Elijah's yellowish eyes pulled Drew through yet another rapid—but as he was about to escape, a hand met his shoulder and pulled him back.

"Pardon me?" a man inquired. "Would you happen to be Andrew Hayden?"

"Drew Hayden, but yes," Drew said, irate.

"I'm Chase Eddrick." The man dropped his hand off Drew's shoulder and extended it toward him. "I just found out we're going to be partners now."

"... Partners?" Drew's arm didn't move.

"Mr. Eadward, your father's lawyer, just informed me you're the new CEO of the Battle Tower," Chase explained, withdrawing the invitation to shake hands. "Quite a shock, actually, since I had no idea your father had a son, and I was half-expecting that I-"

"-I don't have time for this." Drew turned toward the crowd again to continue looking for Elijah, but Chase was unwilling to relent.

"Wait, please, Mr. Hayden," he pleaded. "I was the chief executive of the Battle Tower—your father's right-hand man—and I was running it full-time in his absence."

"And I'm sure you did a really great job," Drew said wearily, facing him again. "And you'll continue to do a great job. In fact, it's all yours."

"W-What?" Chase stammered.

"The Battle Tower—it's all yours," Drew repeated. "You're the new CEO. Congratulations. Wait—" Drew paused. "—before I hand over my father's multi-million dollar business, I'd like for you to promise you'll invest more into buying better trophies for the winners of Battle Tower tournaments. I won last week and was very disappointed in my prize."

"I don't understand..."

"I don't either. Really, the Battle Tower might as well hand out macaroni that's been glued onto a paper and spraypainted gold if those little plastic trophies are the best it can do."

"You're really giving me the Battle Tower?" Chase was still in shock.

"Yup." Drew nodded.

"Can I get that in writing?" Chase pressed, suddenly becoming excited. "Can we meet with Mr. Eadward after the service to-"

"-Nope," Drew cut him off again. "We'll have to do it later. I have Mr. Eadward's number, so I'll figure it out when I get to it."

He quickly scuttled away before Chase could harass him further, annoyed that now he would have to rely on chance once more to find Elijah—but he was intercepted again, though this time it was by people he didn't mind seeing.

"Hey," May greeted with a crooked smile. "You okay? You look... mad."

"I'm fine," Drew brushed it off.

"What did that man want, anyway?" Solidad asked.

Drew opened his mouth to answer, but he quickly snapped it shut again, changing his mind.

"Nothing important," he said. Drew felt another hand on his shoulder, and irritation patterned across his face, believing it was Chase again. Yet, when he turned around, he found the very person he was looking for.

"I suggest you find a seat, Mr. Hayden," Elijah said. "The formal service is beginning in a few minutes."

"I need to talk to you," Drew told him, ignoring the suggestion.

"As do I." Elijah dropped his hand. "Later, though. I must deliver your father's eulogy, as he has no family members willing to perform the courtesy themselves."

June 18th, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City.

"So have you and Cilan gone over what you're going say in response to the questions you're going to get tonight?" Leaf asked, sitting beside Gary on the sofa in Iris's office. Iris was across from the couple, one leg folded over the other.

"We did, actually," Iris said, falsifying a cheerful tone. "The eight-page packet of questions and answers you gave us was extremely helpful."

"Was that sarcastic?"

"A little bit." Iris nodded.

"Well, at least I can say I had a far better night than you and Cilan," Gary laughed, and Leaf hit him. Iris made a face.

"You know, I'm going to have to wash those sheets when you guys leave," she grumbled. "Actually, truth be told, I probably would have ignored your packet if Cilan wasn't into it. Cilan prepares for things, I wing them."

"And I thank Arceus every day he matched you two up for that very reason," Leaf said.

The three trainers' heads turned to the door when there was a knock. Trip then slid inside without invitation—as if he needed it anyway—carrying a bulletin board in one hand.

"Hi, Trip," Iris greeted, confused. "I thought you were going to take Georgia's pictures today."

"I am," Trip said with a quick nod. "We're taking them here, outside the gym."

"Why?" Gary craned an eyebrow. "At the risk of offending Iris, the outside architecture of the gym is one of the creepiest I've ever seen."

"It is," Iris said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I'm not offended."

Trip ignored their comment as he pulled up the bulletin board and held it upright on the coffee table separating Iris from Gary and Leaf. Iris slowly rose to her feet, more baffled than before, as her eyes scanned the board—a collection of newspaper articles Trip had either carefully cut out or printed from his computer.

"I need you to look at this," he said seriously.

"W-What is it?" Iris asked.

"These are all the articles I can find about recent Pokémon-on-trainer attacks in Unova," he explained. "There's been eighteen reported, starting with that Minccino in May. I bought the board yesterday and started compiling everything for you."

Gary stood up, too, as he gave the board a once-over.

"Dude, Trip, this is like serial-killer-type of behavior, except instead of compiling reports about girls, you're doing it with everyday occurrences," he half-laughed, flicking one of the cut-outs.

"This isn't funny, Gary," Trip argued. "The Minccino's trainer, the one who had the facial disfigurement, he died this morning."

"Chill out, Trip," Leaf said coolly. "That Minccino was a special case. Ritchie mentioned you were worrying about this, and I think he hit the nail on the head: The Minccino attacking his trainer brought awareness to Pokémon-on-trainer attacks, so now the media's reporting on it like it's a new thing."

"Yeah, he told me that too, and I believed him at first. But now I'm convinced something's up," Trip persisted. "The third attack, it was a Houndoom. It was taken from the trainer for study, but it escaped on the same day. Last week, there was an article with a girl talking about her Darumaka who had bitten her—" Trip pointed to the said article on the board. "—and she said he'd been acting weird since a battle against a Houndoom. I could have written it off as coincidence, and Ritchie convinced me to. Then, another report of an attack, a Zoroark this time, came out yesterday, and this trainer also talked about a Houndoom. I can't say it's a coincidence anymore."

Trip breathed out, taking a moment to regather himself. He'd been talking faster than usual.

"What I'm seeing here," Trip continued, "is increased aggression among Pokémon, for whatever reason. I'm not 100 percent sure all this is connected to the Minccino, but if it is... this could potentially be something that kills people, and it could cause Pokémon training as an institution to fall apart."

There was a change in Gary's expression, from one of doubt to intrigue—an unhappy kind, the one upon which fear is built. Iris looked nervous, too.

"Increased aggression... ?" Gary repeated.

"I still think it's a stretch," Leaf said, still doubtful.

"Wait, Leaf," Gary began carefully. "Maybe we shouldn't dismiss this so quickly."

"Hey." Georgia appeared in the doorway to the office, hand against her hip. "Are we doing this or what?"

"I told you to go to bathroom and get ready," Trip reminded.

"Did that. I'm ready now."

Trip huffed and glanced back at his other companions

"Look it over while I'm gone," he told them. Iris frowned, grasping the edge of the board to keep it upright as he left to follow Georgia.

"Will do..." she said, trailing off.

June 18th, 2009. Late Morning. La Rousse City.

It occurred to Drew halfway through the invocation how strange it was that they were in a church—that his father's penultimate send-off would take place in something they never visited. His father, to his memory, was never particularly religious. Of all the things Drew was forced to study in his childhood, the legends of Pokémon and humans' creation—the stories of Arceus, of Mew, of every Legendary Pokémon—were not one of them. Most of what he knew now came from May, who was sitting beside him, her hand in his, and her head respectfully bowed. Her family had grown up on these legends.

"And these things we say and ask for in thy name, Arceus, our creator of the universe in which we live," the priest said conclusively, "amen."

A unified chorus of "amen" followed as the people in the congregation collectively raised their heads again. Elijah rose from his seat, pulling a neatly folded paper from his pocket—the eulogy.

"Good morning, my friends," Elijah began smoothly, though solemnly when he stepped to the podium. "My name is Elijah Colress. I met Christopher Rogers three years ago, not long after he had been diagnosed with cancer. A mutual friend introduced us, and we were drawn to each other immediately."

"Three years," Drew scoffed under his breath. "Yeah, 'old friend.'"

May cast him a quick glance, not entirely sure of what he had said, but she didn't inquire.

"A year later, he was in remission," Elijah continued. "And that is what I prefer to remember him by—his successes, and not his losses. We all know Chris was a very successful man. He brought to La Rousse—to Hoenn—the Battle Tower, a landmark adored by trainers everywhere, and it shall continue to be adored as it carries on in his memory. And every trainer, and every friend, and every family member, shall carry his memory in their hearts, too, for the kindness he bestowed upon us and the successes he enabled—whether it be a trainer taking home a trophy earned from the hard-fought battles in the Battle Tower, or myself for being able to pursue the truths I've always desired, or a two-time Top Coordinator son who shall create his own legacy far away in Unova-"

Drew breathed in sharply as a surge of both anger and sadness welled up inside him. All three of his companions immediately looked at him, and Drew clenched his jaw. How dare Elijah attribute his successes to his father. The only people who could lay claim to having any hand in his victories were the ones sitting with him—that was where the anger rooted.

The sadness, he didn't know. He hadn't felt too upset up until then—and he didn't know what to make of it. Perhaps, Drew thought, he was only now realizing his father was gone, and that the world would only remember him as the kind of person Drew wished he would have been. He hadn't cried regarding his father's death yet, but now was the closest he had come thus far.

"Drew... ?" May asked quietly.

"I'm fine," he said quickly, rubbing each of his eyes with the heel of his palm.

He couldn't do it anymore. He tuned out the rest of the speech, focusing his energies in gripping May's hand.

June 18th, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City.

"Phillip, would you do me a favor and pass this chart out to your peers?" Cilan asked kindly, holding a stack of papers out to him. Phillip nodded as he took the stack.

"Sure thing, Professor Griffith," he said before moving among the rows of students, some of whom already had their Pokémon out and ready for the observation session. Class was still a few minutes away from beginning, and couple of students were still settling in—including Karina, who had walked in with a worried expression.

"Hi Karina," Phillip greeted as he held out one of the papers toward her. "Here's the personality chart we're using for today."

"Thanks..." Karina smiled crookedly before sitting.

"Hey, you okay?" Phillip asked. "You look kinda down."

"I'm all right," Karina replied. "I'm just frustrated with my Purrloin right now. I thought she might be a Relaxed nature, but now I'm not so sure. ... I'm really questioning if I was completely wrong about Purrloin all along, and if the worksheet I filled out last week is any good now. I just feel dumb."

"You're not dumb, Karina," Phillip assured her. "I'm sure you're just second-guessing yourself now, because that's what you always do."

"Yeah, I guess so..."

"If you're really worried though, I'd ask Professor Griffith and Ms. Myers about it," Phillip suggested. "Although, I'll bet they'll just say the same thing as me."

Karina smiled weakly.

"Okay, I'll ask," she said, nodding. "Thanks, Phillip." As Phillip went on his way, Karina rose up once more and approached Cilan and Burgundy at the front of the classroom.

"Professor Griffith? Ms. Myers?" she inquired shyly, getting their attention. "Can I ask a question?"

"Please do, Karina," Cilan said.

"Is it... possible for a Pokémon's Nature to change?" she asked.

"Hm..." Cilan tapped his finger against his chin. "An interesting question—it's something many Pokémon researchers have studied before, in fact. What do you think, Ms. Myers?"

Burgundy winced, but pursed her lips, thinking. She wanted to say something intelligible, something eloquent with both Cilan and Karina looking at her.

"... Does the basic nature of a human ever change?" she finally responded, beginning with another question. "It's true that we might act differently when we go through hard times but we're still who we are, even when rising above those hard times causes us to learn and grow and change. Pokémon are the same way, I think."

Cilan appeared deeply impressed by her answer.

"I would agree," he said, turning back to Karina. "A Pokémon's personality may evolve as they mature and gain experience but their Nature will always stay the same—much like how a Pokémon is still, at it heart, the same Pokémon when it evolves in the more literal sense. Why do you ask?"

"Well..." Karina's eyes fell to the ground. "The Pokémon I filled the worksheet out for last Thursday seems a lot different since then, and everything I wrote down doesn't seem relevant anymore..."

"Hm," Cilan hummed thoughtfully. "I doubt your Pokémon would undergo such dramatic changes in just a week, but... I'll take a look at your Pokémon when class begins, and we'll figure it out together."

"Okay!" Karina's expression brightened.

"Which Pokémon is yours again?" Cilan inquired.

"The Purrloin."

Cilan's lip twitched.

"You know what," he began, "I'll let Ms. Myers handle this one. Is that all right with you, Karina?"

"What?!" Burgundy gave him a disbelieving look.

"Of course it's okay!" Karina said. Cilan appeared relieved.

"All right," he said. "Go ahead and sit down and pull out your Pokémon. I'm getting class started now."

Karina nodded and did so as she returned to her seat. She pulled out her Pokéball and let out Purrloin, whom Burgundy immediately noticed appeared agitated. Karina pet Purrloin, attempting to calm her, but Purrloin kept fidgeting. It let out a hiss at a nearby Petilil, who cowered in response.

"Good morning," Cilan greeted the class cheerfully. "Today, we're going to put those worksheets you filled out about your Pokémon last week and our notes from Tuesday's lecture to good use. Each of you should have a blank personality chart, which you will-"

He was cut off by a sudden and loud yelp from Karina as her Purrloin turned and bit into her hand—hard. Karina tried to shake off her Pokémon, but to no avail. It was only when Burgundy hurried and tried to pull Purrloin away from Karina that the Dark-type let go. Purrloin took a swipe at Burgundy, missing, before leaping from her arms and running out the classroom door.

"Karina, are you all right?" Cilan asked worriedly as he hurried toward her, too.

"I-I'm fine," Karina insisted, though her eyes were watering. She was gripping her hand; Purrloin had drawn blood. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt class."

Cilan frowned.

"It's okay," he gently assured her. Cilan then reached into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys and holding them out to Burgundy. "Ms. Myers, please take Karina to my office. There's a first-aid kit in the the bottom-left drawer of my desk."

"Will do," Burgundy said, taking the keys. "Come on, Karina."

June 18th, 2009. Late Morning. La Rousse City.

For a summer day in Hoenn, May thought the weather was exceptionally beautiful. Normally, wearing a black dress any day of the year in the tropical region meant a lot of, well, sweat. But a gentle breeze was coming through the cemetery that morning, enough to keep May cool.

Most of the mourners had left at the end of the church service, though a sizable amount still went to see the casket lowered in the ground. But that had been fifteen minutes earlier, and now that sizable amount was almost nothing at all. A few mourners still lingered nearby chatting, and the gravekeepers stood beneath a large oak tree, waiting for the whole party to leave before they filled the hole.

Drew himself stood near the gravesite in front of said hole, though his eyes were on the headstone before him. It was a shared plot, his mother occupying the first half: Kara Hayden Rogers (May 22nd, 1963 - January 27th, 1991). The second now belonged to his father: Christopher Rogers (August 10th, 1960 - June 11th, 2009).

May petted a loose, windblown hair down as she began to approach Drew.

"Wonder who decided to put the 'loving father' bit?" May initially thought the question was directed toward her, until he added, "Was that you? Did you mean it ironically?"

May stopped and hung back a while longer, clasping her hands in front of her.

"I hope you know I'm mad at you. No, I'm not just mad—I'm pissed," Drew continued. "And the thing is, I thought I was going to be sad—I thought I was going to be upset today, now that it's finally setting in that you're dead—and I still am, a little bit. But mostly, I'm pissed. I told you. I told you I didn't want it. Was making Elijah bring me here your last shot at trying to shape me into the kind of son you wished you had? The one who loved the Battle Tower as much as you and Mom?"

"Drew?" May finally decided to interrupt him, and he snapped his head toward her.

"Hey, May," he replied, his voice losing its strain.

"Are you all right?" she asked, wrapping an arm around his.

"I'm fine." Drew shrugged. "Just shouting at the ground, I guess."

"I've done that before."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me." He smiled and shook his head. "I'm glad you came today."

"I wanted to."

"I've really missed you," Drew went on. "Three weeks is too long."

"I know," she said. "I've missed you a lot, too."

Their gazes remained silently locked for a moment longer before he dipped his head to kiss her, and she rose her head to meet his. Her arm moved, unraveling itself from his, as her hand traveled to his shoulder.

"Is this Mrs. Hayden?"

They broke apart, Drew briefly brushing his forehead against hers, lingering in the moment gone by. Then, with an annoyed expression, he looked back at Elijah, who had a placid smile and, undoubtedly, his hands neatly folded behind his back.

"Hi, Elijah," Drew greeted tersely, "and no, this is my girlfriend, May Maple."

"Ah, my apologies." Elijah came closer, extending a hand to May. "It's lovely to meet you, Ms. Maple."

"S-Same," May stammered, grasping his hand. "Are you... ?"

"The representative from SAMPLe who met with Iris Ajagara last month prior to the CIU?" he finished for her. "Indeed I am."

"Oh... Well, it's nice to see you again!" May smiled crookedly. Drew couldn't manage to offer the same grace, as he eyed Elijah warily.

"May, why don't you go find Solidad and Harley?" Drew suggested after a moment. "We need to leave for the airport soon."

May understood the hint, and she quickly stepped away.

"Right," she said, nodding. Drew carefully waited for her to be out of earshot until he spoke again.

"Why didn't you tell me my father called his lawyer the day he died?" Drew immediately got to the point.

"Because it was the day he died."

"A really disturbing coincidence, don't you think?" Drew questioned with a sharp, almost accusatory emphasis on the ending consonant. "Tell me, Elijah, was Ana crying this morning because she was sad my father had died, or because she had just found out that you had been booted off the will?"

"Please, Mr. Hayden, find your humanity," Elijah half-chastised. "Being a hospice nurse is a very painful job. There are no happy endings. The patients always die."

"Yeah, good luck convincing me that either Ana or Olivia cared one iota about my father," Drew scoffed.

"Did you?"

Drew mentally stumbled, though he didn't let it show. He merely allowed his and Elijah's gazes to connect, and he gave him a piercing stare. Elijah soon sighed.

"I will admit," Elijah began, "your father did mislead us."

"Mhm," Drew hummed, unsurprised. "Go on."

"We were under the impression that he was prepared to leave the majority of his wealth to us."

"To SAMPLe, you mean," Drew corrected. There was no question; he already knew.

"Yes," Elijah affirmed. "For weeks, he had not approved the will. He set forth a condition—that he would sign it if he had the chance to see his only son one last time. We followed through on fulfilling his dying wish. Last Thursday, when he requested a private meeting with his lawyer... We believed he had finally signed the will, when in fact, he had changed it to make you the sole heir, simultaneously trampling over the many promises he made—not just to SAMPLe, but to numerous Battle Tower executives and household servants who believed they were getting their own share."

"You've said so yourself that you and my father were 'old friends,'" Drew pointed out. "Surely you must have known the kind of person he was? I did. Do you know why I left home eleven years ago?"

"I wasn't aware your father had a son."

"And that should tell you a lot," Drew said. "And it should tell you a lot, too, that you're the third person to say that today."

"I do believe your father was a good person still," Elijah persisted. "As betrayed as I and many others feel... It's hard to say what he did was ignoble, considering you are his son and the only family he has."

"There's no need to try to play the pity card on me." Drew resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I have no intention of keeping any of my new inheritance."

"You don't?" Elijah sounded genuinely surprised.

"No," Drew said. "I'm going back to Unova today, but in the future, I plan on sitting down with Mr. Eadward and divvying up everything I have in the way he originally intended it."

Elijah tightened his lips, perhaps unsure of how he should react.

"Well, that's very kind of you," he tacitly said.

"Unless, of course," Drew added sharply, suddenly, "I disapprove of where the money is going."

"Drew?" May called out to him, waving for him to follow. "We need to get back to the mansion for our luggage."

Drew nodded to her before looking back at Elijah.

"Thank you for the service," Drew said, trying to sound as genuine as possible, though he ended up still coming off as stiff. "It was really well-done."

"It was my pleasure," Elijah replied, "and thank you."

Drew left without a further word, jogging to catch up with May. When he did, he said, "I'm sorry about that,"

"Sorry about what?" May blinked.

"About him calling you 'Mrs. Hayden,'" he clarified. "I know that kind of thing embarrasses you."

"Oh that? I didn't mind that," she said, waving it off.

"... You didn't?" Drew stopped, giving her a strange look.

May stopped, too, her cheeks flushing pink. May looked down as her hands fidgeted with the end of her dress.

"Well, I mean..." she trailed off, flustered. "It was nice, the way it sounded. That's all."

She hurried ahead, but Drew stayed rooted to the spot where he stood, staring at her in mild disbelief. Then, he smirked.

June 18th, 2009. Late Morning. Opelucid City.

"So where are we headed?" Georgia asked as she walked with Trip outside the gym.

"Not sure yet," he answered, his eyes scanning the area. His camera was hung around his neck, and his hands were slid into his pockets. "Still trying to find a nice backdrop."

Georgia let out a long sigh.

"I knew it," she said drolly. "We didn't come here for nice photoshoot scenery, we came so you could turn in your elementary school project."

"Why do you care so much?" Trip grumbled.

"Because I would like to look good in these pictures."

"You will."

"In a place like this?" Georgia asked.

"I could put you in front of a dumpster, and my camera and I would still make you look good." He stopped, his eyes focusing on a large bolder nestled near some bushes. "Here, get on that rock."

"Are you serious?" Georgia glowered at him.

"Yes," he answered.

"Rock-type Pokémon aren't my specialty," she reminded.

"You don't have a specialty."

"I do. Dragon Busting."

"So what, would you like a picture of you punching a Dragon-type?" Trip huffed, frustrated.

"Hm," Georgia hummed. "That would be pretty cool, actually."

"Get on the rock."

She shrugged and languidly moved toward the bolder, plopping down on top of it. She crossed one leg over the other and folded her arms.

"So what now?" she asked.

"You could try smiling and looking more relaxed," Trip suggested. She kept her deadpan expression, nor did she untangle her limbs. Trip sighed and asked, "Is your goal in life to make mine more difficult?"

Her lips curved into a smirk, which then bloomed into the most beautiful smile he had ever seen—and it caught Trip off guard.

"Sorry," she apologized with a laugh. "It's just funny, getting you riled up."


Karina nursed her hand, wanting to ensure no blood spilled against the tile floor as Burgundy fumbled with the keys, trying to unlock Cilan's office. It was a peculiar scene for Ricard as he passed by, noticing the drops of blood pooling in the girl's healthy hand.

"Now, now what happened here?" he asked, and Burgundy winced and let out a near-inaudible groan, pushing her forehead against the door. Of all times, why did he have to show up now? Karina merely stared at Ricard in bewilderment.

"Good morning, Professor Nouveau," Burgundy said, straightening up and facing him. "We had an accident in the classroom today."

"Under your supervision, I presume?" Ricard seemed amused by the idea.

"Certainly not under yours, monsieur," Burgundy said, turning the key and pushing the office door open with her hip. "Now if you'll excuse us."

She quickly ushered Karina inside and shut the door.

"Go ahead and sit down," Burgundy told her as she went to Cilan's desk. Karina nodded and sat down as Burgundy rummaged through his desk, pulling out the first-aid kit. She opened it and picked out a disinfectant, ripping the packet open. Karina breathed in sharply as Burgundy pressed the disposable wet cloth to Karina's bite wounds.

"So when did this behavior from your Purrloin begin?" Burgundy asked, trying to distract Karina from the pain.

"U-Um," Karina stammered, thinking. "Tuesday, actually. My Purrloin and I were going to get lunch, but on the way there, we ran into a... really aggressive, mutant-like Houndoom. It went for me first, actually, but my Purrloin defended me using Fury Swipes... but then Houndoom used Crunch, and it was really brutal. A guy and his Zoroark had to save us, and even Zoroark was bitten too before he managed to chase off the Houndoom. The other trainer and I both had to take our Pokémon to the center, but even after getting treated, Purrloin had just been acting really weird... and now this..."

Burgundy frowned. She might have suggested Purrloin was simply upset because she was embarrassed she hadn't been able to defend her trainer on her own—but that hardly made sense, since Purrloin herself had attacked Karina in class.

"I'm really worried about Purrloin," Karina continued. "I don't know where she is now."

"Don't worry," Burgundy assured her, pulling the now-pink cloth away. "When we're finished here, I'll help you file a Runaway Pokémon Report."

Karina nodded, though she said nothing further for a while as she watched Burgundy dig into into the kit again, getting out a band-aid.

"... Why did he treat you like that?" she asked after a moment.

"Hm?" Burgundy intoned, looking up.

"That man out there, why did he treat you like that?" Karina repeated. "Was it a joke?"

Burgundy was at a loss for words. She looked away, thinking.

"Unfortunately not," she finally answered.

Karina stayed quiet.

Burgundy sucked in her breath and then asked, "Karina, you want to be an S-Class Connoisseuse someday, don't you?"

"Yes." Karina nodded.

"Would you mind if I offered you some advice then?"

"N... No?"

Burgundy pulled the band-aid out of its package and carefully applied it to Karina's injury. Then, she looked the young student straight in the eye and said, "I'm not telling you this as your teacher, but as a fellow female student. You'll find that by the time you're a B-Class, that the girls in your classes will stop advancing. You'll be outnumbered four to one when you become an A-Class, and then eight to one when you're applying to get in the S-Class program. It's an uphill battle, and there are some who won't make it. But people like you—girls with minds as bright as yours—you're going to pave the road for the rest of us."

Karina said nothing, considering Burgundy's words. Burgundy straightened up and put away the first-aid kit.

"Come on," she encouraged. "There's a place where we can report runaway Pokémon on campus."


"This place is great," Abby breathed as Dawn led her into the main battle club arena, where the set-up for that evening's event was happening. Various staffers from both the CIU and the battle club were scuttling around, attending to various tasks in preparation.

Dawn laughed, saying, "We sure are lucky Don George agreed to partner with us. Would you like me to introduce you to the other panelists?"

"Please do."

Dawn stopped, her eyes scanning the area—until they landed on Robert and Nando, who were standing off to the side of the field, chatting.

"Robert, Nando!" she called out to them, getting their attention. She then gestured for Abby to follow her as she approached the two men. "This is Dr. Abby, another panelist for tonight."

"Ah, it's a pleasure to meet you, Abby," Robert said, shaking her hand.

"It truly is," Nando added, doing the same. "It's not every day you meet a legend."

"I could say the same about both of you," Abby chuckled. "It's nice to meet you both in person." She turned an eye back toward Dawn. "Where are the other two?"

"Solidad and Harley, you mean?" Dawn asked. When Abby nodded, Dawn explained, "They're coming in with May and Drew from La Rousse. In fact, I bet they're getting on the plane about now."

"Why are Mr. Hayden and Ms. Maple in La Rousse?" Robert asked. "Aren't they on staff here? In fact, isn't Mr. Hayden in charge?"

"He is," Dawn clarified. "But, um, he's been in La Rousse for several weeks now. His father passed away last week, and his funeral was this morning."

"My, that's terrible!" Nando frowned. "He's so young, too."

"Right? He's only 22, I think," Abby mused.

"Will he be all right tonight, then?" Robert asked.

"Actually... I think he'll probably be in a lot better spirits than you might expect," Dawn admitted. "He and his father had a complicated relationship. They'd been estranged for half of Drew's life, and I think he mostly went to try to get closure. From what May has told me in the past couple weeks, he's been really eager to get back to Unova, and I think he'll be glad to be here tonight."

"Still," Robert said, "I'll have to be sure to offer my sympathies tonight."

Dawn heard Kenny calling her name; her help was needed for something. She smiled crookedly at the Top Coordinator before her and said, "Well, feel free to practice your appeals on the battlefield if you'd like. I'm needed elsewhere."

June 18th, 2009. Afternoon. In Flight.

"Aw, how sweet," Harley mockingly cooed. "She's already fallen asleep."

Drew's eyes lifted from his book as he shot Harley a glare from across the aisle. Between him and Harley, May—the subject of his questionably mean-spirited teases—laid peacefully against Drew's shoulder, unconscious. They were only a half-hour into their flight.

"Her flight left at 5 a.m. this morning, Harley," Solidad gently reminded. She sat on the other side of Drew, near the window. "She's had a long day already."

Harley pouted and grumbled something about her always ruining his fun. Drew closed his book, keeping his thumb inside as a bookmark.

"Solidad, how long have you known she was coming?" he asked curiously.

"Since last night," she answered. "She called me and asked, 'How mad do you think Drew would be if I just showed up tomorrow?' I told her you wouldn't be mad at all."

Drew's lips cracked into a smile as he looked back at May.

"Well, you were right." He leaned in to kiss her on her hairline. Harley made gagging noises, which Drew ignored.

"I hope you know," Solidad began anew, regaining Drew's attention, "that she loves you so much."

He quirked an eyebrow.

"I do know that," he said.

"Chica almost cried today," Harley half-grumbled. "Saw your dad, and the very thought of losing you brought her to tears."

Drew stared at him for a while before looking at May again.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere."

Her hands were folded on her lap, left over right. He reached for the one on top, gently grasping it and running his thumb over her bare fingers—and it was only then, he realized, that something felt as though it were missing.

September 24th, 2007. Evening. Village of Dragons.

The Village of Dragons, Drew thought, was something he would expect to find in a folk tale, and not real life. Yet, there he stood in a grove of trees lit by white lanterns hanging from the branches, the sounds of a Hydreigon's roars echoing in the distance every so often. The wedding party seemed to pay little mind to this background noise however; it was a part of the reception's charm.

Drew was making his way through the crowd, having a specific destination in mind. He stopped momentarily to peek at the bride and groom, who were speaking with a pack of Napaj's Champions—Wallace, Cynthia, Alder, and the recently retired Lance. Cynthia's husband, Steven, as well as Wallace's wife, Winona, were also present. Drayden and the village matriarch, who appeared to be in the final leg of her life, were not far either.

Drew found the conglomeration of powerful figures at an otherwise small, private event interesting, to say the least, but he wasn't in the mood to pursue his suspicions—not when the newly married couple was glowing with an infectious happiness. Iris, especially, was radiant in her gold-embroidered wedding dress—but Drew would expect nothing less.

He moved on, toward an open bar set up underneath the glimmering canopy of a decorated tree, and was surprised to see a friend—Zoey—sitting alone.

"Hey," Drew greeted, sliding onto the seat beside her. She looked up at him and smirked.

"Hey, yourself," she said.

"Can I get you anything, sir?" the bartender approached Drew before his and Zoey's conversation could progress.

"Uh... Sure, what do you have?" Drew asked.

"Here's a menu right here," the bartender offered, holding a small laminated sheet of paper out to him. "We have a variety of wines and cocktails, and a few non-alcoholic options if you're underage or not drinking this evening."

"Right..." Drew's eyes scanned the list. "Could I get a glass of Merlot please?"

"ID?" the bartender inquired. Drew reached into his wallet and pulled out the requested identification, sliding it toward him. The bartender glanced at it and nodded before beginning to pour Drew his drink.

"So why aren't you with Candice?" Drew asked, returning his attention to Zoey.

"Why aren't you with May?" she threw back.

"Because she's with Max, and I'm with you," he replied coolly. "Did you and Candice have a fight?"

"I wouldn't call it a fight." Zoey shrugged. "By now, I really should know better than to take her to weddings. She starts whining mid-way through."

"I hope you're at least having fun," Drew sympathized with a chuckle.

"I'm tipsy, how can I not be?" Zoey jested with a wry smile, taking a sip of her drink just as the bartender delivered Drew his.

"Well, hopefully I'll be joining you on that train soon," Drew said, holding his glass out to toast her. After the edges of their glasses clinked together, Drew took a sip himself. They said nothing further for a while, as her gaze grew strangely distant. Drew followed her line of vision and realized she was watching Iris and Cilan.

"I guess I just didn't think I'd be at this wedding at this time," she mused aloud.

"Why?" Drew craned an eyebrow. "Sure, they only dated for a little over a year, but they spent, what, ten months engaged?"

Zoey burst out laughing, a product of her inebriation.

"That's not what I meant," she said.

"Then what did you mean?" he asked. Zoey muted her laughter, regathering herself.

"Drew..." she began in a more serious tone, though she still wore her amused smile. "Everyone thought you and May would be first."

June 18th, 2009. Late Afternoon. Opelucid City.

"Testing, test, 1, 2, 3," Barry practically yelled into the microphone out of frustration. Luckily, no one's ear were hurt, because the sound didn't carry. Irritation crossed his expression. "Man, all five of these mics are duds! What the heck is going on..."

"It might help if you turned them on," Max pointed out, his arms folded. He stood in front of the long table, where five seats with five placecards with five microphones were set up. Barry blinked and lifted one of the mics, flicking the switch on.

"Testing, test." This time, it worked, and Barry glowered at Max. "Why didn'cha tell me earlier?"

"I wanted to see if you'd figure it out yourself." Max smirked, adjusting his glasses. "You didn't."

"Hey, watch yourself," Barry warned. "Just because your May's younger brother does not make you immune to fines."

"Be nice, Max," Caroline gently chastised.

"Just joking around, Mom," Max sighed.

"I'm not," Barry whined.

"Barry isn't that good at taking jokes, but he's all right at making them," Kenny laughed, coming up behind Max and Caroline.

"I'll fine you too, Kenny," Barry grumbled.

"Kenny, it's so nice to see you again," Caroline said kindly. "How are you doing?"

"I'm all right, Mrs. Maple, thanks," Kenny replied. "Zoey told me you guys were coming here to surprise May."

"Yeah, too bad May isn't, you know, here," Max said dryly.

"Actually, Zoey left to pick her and the others up from the airport like 20 minutes ago," Kenny explained, "so I imagine they'll be here-"

"-Soon?" Drew finished for him, with May, Solidad, and Harley in tow. May's face lit up upon seeing her mother and sibling, and she quickly hurried to embrace both.

"You guys!" she exclaimed, delighted. "I had no idea you were coming."

"Yeah, that's kind of the point of surprises," Max sassed.

May was too happy to get angry, so she ruffled his hair and asked, "Is Dad here, too?"

"Would you be upset if he wasn't?" Max asked.

"Um... No?" May wasn't sure how to answer.

"Nah, I'm totally kidding!" Max grinned. "He's here. He went to help Kelly carry some boxes of Pokéblock from her car."

"Really?!" May asked, even more excited than before.

"Really, really," Norman answered from behind her. May sucked in her breath and spun around to see him.

"Daddy!" She embraced him, too, and he kissed her on top of her head.

Drew stood by quietly, though he allowed a gentle smile to grow in his expression. Solidad cast him a careful look, mouthing the words, "Are you okay?" He nodded in response. Norman noticed Drew's somewhat solemn aura as he broke away from his daughter.

"Good afternoon, Drew," Norman greeted.

"Afternoon, Norman," Drew tacitly replied.

"How are you doing?" Norman asked.

"Oh, that's right!" Caroline jumped into the conversation. "We heard all about it Drew. I'm so sorry."

"As am I," Robert added as he approached with both Abby and Nando. "I lost my father several years ago, and I extend my sincerest condolences to you."

Drew was taken aback by all the attention, but he quickly shook it off, saying, "Thank you all—but really, I'm fine. I'm glad to be back here."

"If you need anything, please know that we're here for you," Caroline offered. "You're practically a part of the family."

Drew pursed his lips, and May smiled.

"Thank you, Caroline," he said. He let out a breath, deciding he wanted to change the subject. "So what's the time here?"

Abby pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket

"Ten minutes 'till five," she said.

"So we've got just a little over an hour until our doors open," Zoey mused.

"In that case, you'll have to excuse me," Robert said. "I must continue refining my appeal."

Once he was out of earshot, Harley folded his arms and scoffed, "What a prick." A wicked grin spread across his face as he exchanged a look with Solidad. "I'm gonna get his number."


"Are you almost ready?" Cilan asked kindly as he walked into Iris's office. "The doors have just opened."

"Yeah!" Iris answered cheerfully as she rounded her desk. "I just came to get one thing."

She opened one of the drawers and pulled out the jewelry box Diantha had sent more than a month earlier. The envelope containing the card that came with it was still unopened and unread. Iris had nearly forgotten about the gift, because she'd had no reason to wear jewelry of any kind with her not leaving the gym—until tonight. She pulled the pendant from its resting place and carefully slipped it around her neck.

"How are you feeling about everything?" Cilan asked after a moment.

"Excited but nervous," Iris answered, struggling to close the clasp. "I'm so glad I'm finally leaving this gym."

Cilan nodded before his eyes were drawn to a bulletin board leaning up against her desk.

"What's this?" he asked, moving to get a closer look.

"Oh..." Iris trailed off. "Trip brought that in earlier. He's been compiling some recent articles about Pokémon-on-trainer attacks in Unova. Leaf is doubtful it's a big deal, but I'd like to look into it more—which I can now do, since I have my independence again."

Iris let on a satisfied smile when she successfully hooked the two ends of the silver chain. Cilan smiled, too, as he extended a hand toward her.

"Come on," he urged, "Leaf and the others are waiting for us."


"Hey you two," May greeted as slipped around the front counter that was normally manned by the battle club receptionists; tonight, however, it was the place to purchase wristbands for the CIU's Q&A event. "How's it going?"

Savannah and her daughter, Sandra, both looked up from their posts and smiled.

"Really well," Sandra answered. "We've gone through several whole boxes!"

"It has started to slow down, though," Savannah added. "I think that's to be expected, though—the doors have been open for close to forty minutes now. Is the show starting soon?"

"Yeah, I think so. It was advertised as starting at 7:00 p.m.," May answered. "It depends on whether we have enough questions submitted yet, and Drew went to check that out."

"How is that working?" Sandra asked.

"Oh, it's simple enough," May said with a wave of her hand. "Dawn, Kenny, and Barry have been running a booth taking questions outside the main battle hall, next to where Kelly is selling things and trying to collect donations. They're also advertising for the special contest in July, I think."

"Do we know how much we've made so far?" Savannah asked.

"Hm... No idea..." May pressed a finger to her chin, thinking. "I think Tim said it would take a day or two to figure out how much profit we made."

"Hopefully a lot!" Sandra laughed.

"Thanks to people like you," May said kindly. "Really, it was sweet of you to volunteer to help your mom sell wristbands."

"Oh, it's no big deal," Sandra brushed it off. "I was just glad she let me come out here for the weekend."

"It has been nice to spend time together," Savannah added.

"Still, anything I can do for you?" May asked.

"Actually, would you mind taking over for a couple minutes? I've had to use the bathroom for a little while now," Sandra admitted.

"Sure! Go ahead!" May nodded.

Sandra appeared relieved, thanking her before she left. May took her place, reaching beneath the counter to pull out another box of wristbands. She dug her nail into the tape, managing to rip it off and open the box. As she did, May could see a couple entering the battle club from the corner of her eye.

"Hi, how can we help you?" May asked as she pulled a stack of wristbands out.

"Hello, May."

May snapped her head up to see the couple was, in fact, Wallace and Winona. She cast a quick sideways at Savannah, whose eyes were wide with awe that the Hoenn Champion stood before her.

"Hi!" May greeted, surprised. "Wow, I didn't know you two were coming!"

"It was a chance to support both my cousin and contests," Wallace explained with a chuckle. "I also have some league-related business out here in Unova, so the decision to come was obvious."

"Well, we're glad to have you." May ripped off two wristbands from the sheet and held them out to them. "Wristbands are on me."

"That's kind of you, but I insist," Wallace said, pulling out a $100 bill from his wallet and sliding it toward her. "Keep the change. Consider it a donation to the CIU."

May let out a long breath and smiled.

"Thank you, Wallace. Really," she said as she slipped the bill into the money box. She then handed them the wristbands. "The main battle hall is to your left. There'll be someone at the door who checks your wristband, and you'll need it to go in and out, if you need to visit the restroom or something."

"Noted," Wallace said as he slid the wristband on.

"It was nice seeing you again, May," Winona added with a knowing smile. "I hope we end up seeing each other much, much more."

"I do, too!" May exclaimed. "Enjoy the show!"


"Hmm..." Bonnie hummed to herself, tapping a CIU pen against her temple as she stared down at the sliver of paper before her, upon which she had written her name and hometown. "Oh! I think I might have one. One of the panelists... she's a Pokémon Doctor, right?"

"Abby?" Dawn inquired. When Bonnie nodded, Dawn continued, "Yes. She runs her own clinic in Hoenn."

"Okay!" Bonnie grinned before she pressed the tip of her pen to the paper again. "I think I've got a good question, then—a nice, smart one!" She then handed the sheet to Dawn, asking, "What do you think?"

Dawn's eyes scanned the sheet, and Barry and Kenny both looked over her shoulder, too.

"It is really good, actually!" Dawn laughed. "I think I'm going to add this to the pile of ones we wants the panelists to answer tonight."

"Really?" Bonnie perked up.

"Yeah." Dawn nodded, putting it into a basket.

"What did it say, Bonnie?" Serena asked.

"You're just gonna have to wait and see!" Bonnie teased.

"I bet it'll be great!" Ash exclaimed, with Pikachu hanging off his shoulder as he held up his own blank strip of paper and pen. He then frowned, saying, "Eh... I don't think I have anything, though, so I'll pass this time," before he returned the pen to Kenny.

"Me too," Misty said, also handing Kenny back a pen she had used. "I think you guys have plenty anyway."

"I'd certainly hope so," Drew said as he swept by the table. "Are you guys almost ready?"

"We have all the questions we've gotten so far sorted, so yes!" Dawn answered.

"Is there a fair balance of questions for each panelist?"

"Yup!" Barry nodded as he held up a notepad. "I kept track on this sheet of paper, see?"

"Good," Drew said, reaching for the basket. "Would you mind if I took this to Grace then? She's going to get the appeals started in a couple minutes, and it'd be great if we have these ready to go immediately afterward."

"Go ahead," Kenny told him. "We'll clean up here."

"Thank you."

"Hey," Ritchie greeted Drew once a space in the conversation opened up. "It's great to see you again."

"Yeah," Ash agreed. "How're you doing? May said earlier that your Dad's funeral was this morning..."

"I'm fine," Drew hastily brushed it off. "Thank you for your concern, though."

"Oh, you must be Drew, then!" Serena said with a light of realization in here eyes. "We arrived in Unova the day you left."

"Which means you're probably one of Ash's Kalosian friends," Drew deduced. "Serena, I'm guessing."

"That's right!"

"So... then you must be Clemont and Bonnie," Drew said, turning toward the two blonde siblings.

"Not bad," Clemont marveled.

"May talked about you, so it isn't too hard to guess who's who." Drew shrugged. "All good things, of course. Anyway, would like to talk more, but I can't. I've got to tell Grace to get things started."

"Ah!" Ash suddenly waved his hands. "That means we should find Gary! I was texting him earlier, and he said we should sit with him and the others!" He grabbed Misty's arm, pulling her toward the door. "Come on, let's go!"


"Well, this is where we part ways," Trip announced when they reached the first set of stairs leading up to several rows of seating. Iris glanced back at him, confused.

"Part ways?" she inquired.

"I'm going to go ask Zoey to let me into the area they have roped off for the press, where I can get a nice angle on you," Trip explained.

"You're taking pictures tonight?"

"Why else would I have my camera?" Trip pointed to the lens hanging around his neck.

"Don't worry about that," Iris dismissed. "Just enjoy the panel."

"This is your return to the public eye." Trip stayed firm. "I need stock."

"He's right, Iris," Cilan calmly interjected.

Iris frowned, but gave in with a sigh, saying, "All right." She turned to head up the stairs when Trip grabbed her wrist, urging her to lean closer.

"Sit next to Georgia—between her and Cilan, if you can," he told her in a low voice. "I need it for tomorrow."

"I know," Iris said, speaking at a normal decibel as she pulled back. "Leaf already talked to me about it."

She pulled her hand away and promptly caught up with Georgia and Cilan. Cilan tenderly put a hand around her waist, almost protectively—as if he could sense the presence that would soon arrive.

"What was that about?" Georgia asked.

"Nothing," Iris mumbled. "Come on, you're sitting next to me."

Georgia craned an eyebrow but shrugged.

"Whatever's clever," she said.

"Ms. Ajagara!" Iris stopped again when she heard her name called, and she turned around to see a young woman approaching, pen and pad of paper in hand and camera around her neck—dead giveaways for what she wanted. "Hello, my name is Ciara Skelley from Coordinators Weekly. I'm reporting on this event for the magazine."

"If you're from Coordinators Weekly, shouldn't you be talking to a coordinator?" Iris asked wryly.

"This is your first public appearance since the assassination attempt in May," Ciara pressed on, ignoring the question. "Are you at all nervous to be here?"

"No," Iris answered simply. "I'm happy to be here, actually, and I'm happy to be supporting the CIU."

"Well, that you support the CIU is obvious," Ciara said. "Some sources say you made a generous donation to the CIU. Can you confirm?"

"Yes, I did donate to the CIU, but if you want the exact amount, you'll have to file a formal request through the Unova League," Iris answered flatly, reciting almost perfectly the line Leaf had written for her.

"Enough about the CIU. Let's get back to you." Ciara tried to pivot the direction of the conversation. "It came out three weeks ago that you're pregnant, after a fainting mishap that landed you in the hospital. Could you tell us more about that day?"

"Tonight isn't about me, it's about the CIU," Iris dodged the question.

"Mr. Griffith, are you excited to be a father?" Ciara turned to him next. Before, he could answer, however, Zoey appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"Ciara," she called out to her. "If you want your media pass to be validated and for the cost of your wristband to be reimbursed, I suggest you come back now."

"Will do, Zoey," Ciara yelled back before returning her gaze to the couple. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

"Same..." Iris trailed off as she watched Ciara leave. She then sighed, "Well, that wasn't so bad."

"A nice job, Iris," Leaf commended.

"I agree." Iris breathed in sharply, recognizing the voice. She turned to her left, noticing that Wallace and Winona were sitting nearby; they hadn't noticed them on their ascent. The rest of the group looked equally surprised the couple from Hoenn was there, too. Wallace continued, "You handled yourself quite well."

"Thank you," Iris said, still taken aback. "Hi, Wallace, Winona. What are you doing here in Unova?"

"We wanted to support the CIU, of course," Winona answered lightly.

"I also have other business to conduct here," Wallace added. He cast Leaf a quick glance, and her lips tightened. Gary raised his eyebrows, noticing the exchange between his girlfriend and the Hoenn Champion. Paul saw it, too, and he appeared suspicious.

"Other business?" he mumbled.


"You know, there is something called freedom of the press," Ciara said snidely when Zoey let her back into the press area, where all the reporters and photographers—Trip included—stood.

"I know," Zoey replied coolly. "I have my journalism degree, too. I just prefer you not harass a nice couple who came to enjoy this event."

Ciara pursed her lips, annoyed.

"You know, Zoey, I still have that story saved on my hard drive," she reminded her. "And since you're no longer an applicant at Coordinators Weekly, there's no longer a conflict of interest. I could bring that story back to my editor, except this time, she would actually run it."

Zoey laughed.

"It's cute that you think I'm afraid of you or anything you have to say about me," she said.

"Sure, you're not afraid," Ciara said, shrugging. "But what about your 'roommate'? How would she feel about it?"

Trip lifted his eyes toward the two women, picking up on snippets of their conversation.

"Awesome, probably," Zoey replied dryly.

"Are you sure?" Ciara taunted. "You saw what happened to your friend, Barry, didn't you?"

"Is there a problem here?" Trip stepped in.

The lights dimmed. Grace appeared beneath a spotlight, holding a microphone close to her.

"Not at all," Ciara said.


"Good evening everyone, and welcome to the Contests in Unova Top Coordinator Panel Kick-Off!" Grace announced with vigor, to some cheers from the crowd. "My name is Grace Everett, and I'm the 2003 Hoenn Top Coordinator, and I'm on staff here at the CIU. I'll be your emcee for the evening!"

"Man, it's starting!" Ash said in a desperate whisper, freezing where he stood to scan the crowd. "I have no idea where Gary and the others are..."

"Try texting him," Ritchie suggested.

"Oh, yeah!" Pikachu climbed down Ash's arm and pulled out his trainer's cell phone, handing it to him. Ash grinned and thanked him before turning it on to scroll through his contacts.

"How about you let me text him, since you're the slowest texter in the world," Misty said, pulling out her own phone, typing a quick message, and sending it before Ash had a chance to complain. Not long after, she received a message back.

"They're on the left side, third column, near the top," she informed the rest of the group, leading the way. They quickly and quietly shuffled along, trying to find them—and they did, once they were waved down by Gary.

Ash grinned, trotting up the stairs to meet him.

"Hey guys," he greeted in a low, though excited voice.

"Glad you all could make it," Cilan said.

"We're beginning the night with a special showcase of appeals, which in the contest world is a chance for coordinators to show off their Pokémon's abilities in unique and beautiful ways before an audience," Grace went on. "Our guests tonight are some of the best and most talented in the business—Top Coordinators, trainers that have earned five contest ribbons and entered and won a Grand Festival, competing against hundreds of other coordinators.

"Our first guest is Robert Schemmel, a four-time Top Coordinator that hails from Silver Rock Isle in Johto. He's well-known for being one of the most accomplished Top Coordinators in history, having the third-most title wins since coordinating's conception in Hoenn in 1969. So, without further adieu, here's Robert!"

The spotlight tuned to him, and he looked toward his audience with a germane smile—which drew some buzzbefore he called out his first Pokémon.

"Milotic, take the stage!" He had chosen to use a Bubble Seal for this performance, and Milotic emerged surrounded in a light blue foam that quickly drifted away, leaving Milotic the center of attention. "First, use Water Pulse."

A ring of water formed around Milotic and rose into a wall. It was then that Robert said, "Now, use Ice Beam." Milotic lifted its head and quickly froze the ring surrounding it, encasing itself in a glossy cage of ice. "Safeguard, Milotic." Through the ice, the audience could see Milotic begin to glow a mysterious, sea foam green, which cast its light across the entire battle hall.

"That's beautiful," Serena said in awe.

"It looks like a lantern," Gary remarked. "An ice lantern."

Georgia smirked, adding, "My new favorite kind of lantern."

"Finally, use Aqua Tail!"

With one fell swoop, Milotic shattered its glass prison, causing a rain of tiny, shimmering ice crystal to fall to the field. The audience erupted into an applause, and Robert bowed before recalling his Pokémon and taking his marked seat at the panelist table.


The appeals had finished and the panel had begun by the time Dawn crept back into the main hall with Barry and Kenny, having finished cleaning up the booth where they had accepted questions. They found May and Drew sitting with May's family in one of the front rows, where much of the rest of the CIU staff was also situated, and Dawn slid into an open space next to Drew.

"How's it been so far?" she asked in a whisper.

"Great," Drew answered. "May has the appeals recorded on her phone if you want to see them later."

"Oh, for sure."

"Nando, this question for you, from Ellie Parks, Age 17, of Accumula Town," Grace said after pulling one of the folded sheets of paper from the basket Drew had delivered to her. "Nando, you're well-known for not only your skills as a coordinator, but as competitive trainer. You've won both a Grand Festival and a League Conference. How do you balance participating in both trainer classes, and would you recommend competitive trainers give coordinating a try?"

"That's an excellent question," Nando mused. "I will admit, it can be difficult at times to keep up with both contests and gym battles. I have to carefully plan where I'm traveling to make the most of my time, so I may earn both my five ribbons and my eight gym badges. There are a few times I have cut it close on both fronts, thinking I would miss the Grand Festival or the League Conference, but things always ended up working out one way or another. It is a lot of work, but it has been more than worth it for me, so of course I would encourage competitive trainers interested in coordinating to enter a contest. There are things you learn from the contest world that you cannot from the Pokemon League Challenge, and vice versa."

"Thank you, Nando." Grace reached into the basket again. "This next question is for all five of you, and it comes from James Coleson, age 15, of Mistralton City: What is your favorite contest-related memory? Harley, let's start with you."

"Oh no," Solidad half-groaned, her microphone picking up the remark.

"What?" Harley glowered at her.

"Please keep it PG," she said, eliciting some chuckles from the crowd.

Harley smirked.

"I can't make any promises," he said, which drew more laughter. "Actually, yes I can, my favorite memory is back from when I was 10, before I was..."

"Perverse?" Robert suggested.

"That's one way of putting it," Harley grumbled. "But really, my favorite memory actually comes from the first contest I ever entered: Slateport City, 1991. My Cacnea and I showed up to the contest hall, and I was dressed up in the Cacnea costume I'd made a week earlier, and I had a plate of cookies, and I was ready to make friends—because that's how you make friends. Cookies and costumes." The comment again drew laughter, causing Harley to glare. "Why are you laughing? Do you think I'm kidding?"

"We know you're not," Solidad said lightly.

"Da-rn straight I'm not." Harley caught himself before he could swear. "Anyway, these kids I knew from school came up to me, and they started making fun of me and my cookies—and that's just unforgivable. Then Solidad here—" He gestured to her. "—shows up, trying to tell them off. So they turned on her and started to make fun of her, too, because of her Slowpoke. So she challenged the ringleader to a battle, and he scoffed and was so cocky, because how could a coordinator, a girl coordinator with a dumb Slowpoke no less, beat him?" He paused for dramatic effect. "She wiped the floor with him."

Harley's embellishment worked, because the audience burst into cheers—and even Nando, Robert, and Abby laughed and clapped, too. Solidad flushed pink, pressing a hand to her face.

"I didn't know that was how they met," May gushed, clapping along with everyone else. "No wonder they're friends."

"That day, that moment was satisfying, that I wasn't even too upset when I lost the contest," Harley continued when the applause died down. "And Solidad and I have been best friends and rivals now for 18 years."

A few coos from the audience followed, and Solidad lifted her head again with a flustered smile.

"That was a good day," she conceded. "It's... fun to show up bullies, to say the least."

"So what's your favorite memory, Solidad?" Grace asked.

"You can't picking meeting me now, that's cheating," Harley said.

"Most of my memories involving you are colorful and will last a lifetime, but I'm not sure if they're my favorite," Solidad teased.

"You should write a book," Abby suggested with a laugh.

"I really should," Solidad agreed.

"'Harley and Solidad's Perverse Adventures,'" Harley added.

"I think a more accurate title might be, 'Harley's Perverse Adventures and the Times Solidad Got Dragged Into Them,'" Solidad corrected lightheartedly. More laughter. "But, really, my favorite memory involves another coordinator, a staffer on the CIU actually. A lot of you have probably heard of him, in fact: Drew Hayden?"

The laughs turned to feverish screams, and now it was Drew's turn to get embarrassed. He also buried his face in a hand, and Chaz chortled and gave him a hearty slap on the back from behind.

"Lot of shouts from the ladies in the crowd," Abby said, grinning. "A few men, too."

"Mr. Hayden's good looks and talents apparently extends his popularity as far as Unova," Nando remarked with an amused smile.

"I'm probably really embarrassing him right now," Solidad realized, chuckling.

"Do you care, though?" Harley asked.

"No," Solidad answered shortly, shaking her head. "Anyway, my favorite memory—it happened about six years ago, when I was in my early 20s and Drew was still a teenager. It was at the 2003 Johto Grand Festival, which he won, beating his rival and another friend of mine, May Maple. When he stood on stage, though, and received that Ribbon Cup and the Top Coordinator title, I could really feel myself starting to get emotional. I don't think I'd ever been prouder in my life, because I had met Drew at his first contest, and over the years, I had watched him just bloom into a talented young man, and his hard work was finally paying off."

"Your favorite memory is of someone else winning the Grand Festival and not you?" Robert asked.

"Well, me winning the Grand Festival was nice, too," Solidad admitted with a laugh, and the audience joined her.

"This is going better than I could have imagined," Dawn breathed before grinning at Drew, who was still recovering. "They're warm, they're funny, and they're definitely talking up contests for us."

"Yeah..." Drew lifted his head, offering her a weak smile in return. "And it's thanks to you for getting them here."

"Stop." Dawn pushed his shoulder.

"I'm serious. Tonight is yours," Drew persisted. "We owe it to you."

Dawn shyly pushed some of her hair out of her face.

"Well, thank you." She paused, looking toward the doors. "I'm going to go check on Kelly and the other people still in the hall."

She rose up and headed toward the entrance, ducking her head slightly as she did—yet, when she opened the doors, she found herself facing someone she would not have expected to see that evening: Paul, with a bottle of water in his hand.

"Hi," she said shortly, quickly. It was the first thing to come to her mind, and it was the first thing she had said to him in weeks.

"Hey," Paul replied, much less jumpy. He wasn't moving on, as Dawn had half-hoped he would—the other part of her didn't want him to go just yet, and she didn't know why. She nervously rubbed her hands together, trying to to think of something else to say.

"Have you enjoyed tonight so far?" she asked.

"You've done a nice job," he answered plainly. She inhaled, but she wasn't sure what to do with the extra air.

"Thank you," she said. He inclined his head, his dark eyes giving her a once-over.

"Did you get a hair cut?" he asked.

Dawn blinked, unconsciously raising a hand to touch one of her shortened locks.

"Um, yeah..." she said. She couldn't do it anymore. "I... I have to go." She quickly brushed past him, and he watched her before shaking his head and going on. Dawn immediately went to the first booth she could find, wanting to quickly move past the encounter, too.

"Hey, Kelly," Dawn greeted, stopping by her table. "How's everything going for you?"

"Fine," Kelly tacitly answered, looking up from her phone. "Just keeping an eye on the merchandise. I've been hearing what's going on in the battle hall from here, though, and it sounds great."

"It is." Dawn nodded. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Mmm... I think I'm good," Kelly said, but she quickly changed her mind. "No, wait! I accidentally left that box of, like, 900 extra pens to sell in my car. I can't leave the table unattended, so would you mind getting them?"

"Oh, sure!" Dawn said, and Kelly reached into her pocket to give her the car keys.


"You know, people are going to figure out you and Dawn are broken up if you act this strangely around her in public," Leaf said when Paul sat down with her and Gary again.

"People are more likely to figure it out if you talk about it in public," Paul grumbled, unscrewing the cap to his water bottle and taking a drink.

"Hey, I'm just saying," Leaf persisted. "I know you didn't want it to be a public thing."

"It's going to be, eventually. Isn't that what you said?" Paul wiped his mouth, as Leaf watched him silently. Then, he suddenly added, "I'm leaving."

"What? Why?" Ash cast Paul a confused look as he stood up.

"I just decided I didn't want to be here anymore," Paul replied, beginning to head back down the stairs.

"Paul..." Iris began with a sigh, but he was already gone. She frowned and looked toward Cilan, saying, "I'm going to talk to him."

"It's probably better you just leave it be, Iris," Ritchie told her.

"I agree," Cilan said. "It's not much use talking to Paul unless he's receptive, and I don't think he's in the mood."

"He hasn't been lately," Iris argued back.

"That is true..." Cilan conceded.

"Don't worry yourselves," Leaf warded them off. "I'll take care of it later."

Iris pouted, folding her arms and letting out a sigh. She drummed her fingers against her skin for a while before an idea occurred to her.

"Well, I have to go to the bathroom anyway," Iris said quickly, standing up.

"All right," Cilan bought it. "Take someone with you."

"I don't need someone to babysit me," Iris defended, rolling her eyes. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

She quickly ambled down the steps and out the door, passing by the press area as she did. Ciara noticed her leaving and cast a quick glance at Zoey to confirm she wasn't paying attention before she slipped beneath the rope.


Dawn struggled to balance the box of pens now in her arms and the set of keys in her right hand as she pushed the car door closed with her hip and tried to lock it. The darkness of night had fallen, and the yellow, flickering streetlights were the only thing that lit the parking lot—dimly so, making Dawn's job all the more difficult.

Frustrated, she finally set the box down, locked the car, and picked the box back up. She lifted her knee to help herself get a better grip before beginning her trip back to the battle club. Yet, on the way, she thought she heard a low, dangerous growl. Dawn stopped and quickly looked around, trying to find the source of the noise—but she saw nothing.

Unnerved, but figuring it must have been in her head, she continued on her way. Then, she heard the warning rumble again. Dawn didn't stop this time, quickening her pace, thought she still cast her eyes about the area. Then, a nearby set of bushes rustled, and Dawn's gaze connected with that of a creature she couldn't identify in the poor lighting.

Dawn froze, unsure of what to do as the creature—presumably a Pokémon—stared her down with its strangely colored eyes and snarled at her with pearly white teeth. She weighed her options; this was not the first time she had encountered an aggressive wild Pokémon, but no matter how many times she faced this situation, it became no less scary. Running was out of the question. She learned long ago that only prompted a chase. Try to escape the situation, in general, was not going to work, because she and the creature had locked eyes, an invitation to battle.

Battling was another option, but her Pokéballs were in her purse, and that required a lot of movement and vulnerability, considering she had a giant box in her hands and couldn't discreetly reach for one of her Pokémon. That left one choice: To try to talk it down from a fight.

"Hey there," Dawn said, trying to sound friendly. "I'm not going to hurt you. In fact, if you come out and let me see you, I'll give you some extra food in my bag."

Without warning, the Pokémon leapt from its place of hiding with an atrocious roar, and Dawn gasped before diving out of the way. The box of pens fell, its contents scattering, while Dawn's hands scrapped against the pavement. She flipped on her side to get a look at her attacker: A Houndoom. Yet, this Houndoom didn't look quite like any other Houndoom she had seen before. A horn was missing, and she could see its fur was mangy and falling out in patches across its body. Its teeth, however, were still in perfect condition.

Dawn's mind was racing—Houndoom; Fire-type; weak against Water; Piplup—and she knew she had no other choice but to fight. She ripped open her purse and dug around, trying to find Piplup's Pokéball.

"Piplup, Hydro Pump!" she called out in desperation when she finally found him. Piplup immediately understood the situation was dangerous when he emerged, and he unleashed a powerful blast of water at Houndoom, which he jumped to avoid. In the meantime, Dawn pushed herself back onto her knees, her palms stinging.

The Houndoom growled against and jumped at Piplup, baring its teeth. Piplup panicked and covered his head with his flippers—but Houndoom's fangs never sunk into him.

"Torterra, Frenzy Plant!" A set of thick, thorned tendrils wrapped around Houndoom's limbs and slammed him into the ground. The tendrils unraveled, revealing Paul and his Torterra as Dawn and Piplup's rescuers. He brusquely strode toward Dawn, grasping her arm and helping her stand the rest of the way.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Y-Yeah." Dawn nodded. "I was just caught off guard..."

While they spoke, the Houndoom—which both thought surely must have been knocked out cold—staggered to its feet without them noticing, and it turned on Torterra. Torterra narrowed its gaze, but it was helpless to move, as it was still recovering from using Frenzy Plant. Thus, Houndoom was able to attack Torterra without retaliation, and it sunk its teeth into Torterra's neck in a powerful Crunch attack.

Both Paul and Dawn spun around when they heard Torterra cry out in pain.

"Shake it off, Torterra!" Paul ordered. Torterra tried to do so, but Houndoom had a firm lock, and his head was positioned between the stony spike on the side of Torterra's head and his shell, giving the Houndoom a stability that allowed him to stay latched on. Suddenly, Dawn heard a sickening crack—and for one terrifying moment, Dawn had thought the Houndoom had somehow broken Torterra's neck—but she soon realized that something perhaps far more disturbing had occurred.

"Piplup, use-" Dawn began, trying to think of an attack that could knock the Fire-type off Torterra, but she was beaten to it.

"-Excadrill, use Drill Run!"

Excadrill came barreling toward Houndoom, managing to break the lock he had on Torterra's neck and—for sure, this time—knocking him out. It was then that Dawn realized the cracking noise had, in fact, been Houndoom's jaw, as she saw it hanging limply from his head at a 90-degree angle, a mix of slobber and blood oozing through the now-broken teeth.

Her concerns were immediately drawn toward Torterra, however, as he let out a gurgled, pained gasp. Even in the dim light, she could see Paul's skin pale before he hurried to his Pokémon.

"Torterra... Torterra..." he said, carefully grasping his starter Pokémon's head as he looked for the damage. He could see hardly anything in the light, but the one thing he did see—and feel—was his own Pokémon's hot blood on his hands when he briefly pulled them away.

"W-What happened here?" Iris stammered in shock. She did a quick double-take between Torterra and Houndoom, her gaze temporarily fixing on the latter's broken jaw. She felt a minor vibration against her chest, but it was lost in the beats of her own heart.

Neither Paul nor Dawn could answer. Dawn stood mortified for along moment before realized she had to act. She quickly recalled Piplup before managing to force the words "I-I'll get Abby!" out. When she turned to run back toward the battle club, however, she was met by the blinding flash of a camera. Iris immediately recognized its user.

"Get out of here! Go!" she yelled at Ciara, and the reporter scuttled away. Iris then sunk to her knees at Torterra's side, and Dawn, recovering, took off.


"Can't you put your phone down for just a moment to enjoy the hard work your fellow coordinators and co-workers put into this panel?" Conway condescended to Ursula, who was sitting beside him with her nails tapping her phone's screen repeatedly. She gave him a dirty look.

"I'm live-tweeting the panel on our official Twitter account, you dingus," she snarled.

"Quiet, you two." Barry turned around and glared. "Or I'm gonna give you a fine."

"All right, Abby, here's a question for you from 17-year-old Bonnie Liscio of Lumiose City, Kalos," Grace said, clearing her throat. "Abby, is there anything you took away from coordinating that you now use in your job as a Pokémon Doctor?"

Dawn stopped running the moment she re-entered the main battle hall, slowing to a stiff, though still brisk pace as she moved toward the front. Her hands were shaking as she moved, knowing she would have to wait until Abby answered.

"Ooh, that's an interesting question." Abby paused, giving it some thought. "Definitely. Definitely there are things coordinating has done for me that has stuck with me for my whole life and affected my career. Coordinating deepened my love for Pokémon, and it helped me realize that other people love their Pokémon just as much, even if they don't show it in the same way.

You have to know and love and have a true partnership with your Pokémon to pull off the kind of beautiful appeals you see in contests, and to win in any battle. I needed to understand that. I needed to understand the kind of other trainers have for their Pokémon in order to become a good Pokémon Doctor—because I need to be personally invested in my patients, because knowing how much their trainer loves them makes me love them, too, and it drives me to do whatever I can to save their lives."

"Thank you, Abby!" As soon as Grace uttered those words, Dawn went up to the panelist table, speaking to Abby in a low, though hurried voice. Abby's expression deadpanned, and she nodded before rising from her seat. Grace stumbled over her words, confused as to why Abby was leaving with Dawn—as was everyone else in the audience—but in some bout of wisdom, she carried on without inquiry.

"What the-" Drew rose up, alarmed. "Dawn." He stopped her, gently though firmly grasping her upper arm when she passed by. Abby kept going. "What's going on?"

Dawn's bottom lip quivered, and Drew felt a pit form in his stomach. Her horrified, pallor expression and the tears that were forming in her eyes told him something was very wrong.

"T-There was this Houndoom, and it attacked me in the parking lot," Dawn began, her voice cracking. "Paul and his Torterra saved me and Piplup, but then the Houndoom went for Torterra's throat, and—I've never seen anything like it, it's jaw, the Houndoom's jaw came unhinged just so he could get it around Torterra's neck, and now Torterra's bleeding everywhere, and if it weren't for Iris's Excadrill... I had to get Abby, Torterra was gasping for air and-"

Drew let go of Dawn's arm. His skin was now paling, too.

"I-I'm sorry," Dawn stammered as she began walking back, away from him. "I have to go—I have to help."

The staffers sitting close enough to overhear the conversation looked similarly shocked. May drew in a shaky breath, pressing her hands to her chest. Kenny scrambled to stand.

"Don't worry," he told Drew. "I'll go see what this is all about. If we all leave, people will get more suspicious."

"Yeah." Drew nodded. "Go."


Abby had seen here fair share of terrible, life-threatening injuries and conditions in her years as a Pokémon Doctor, but when she hurried out into that parking lot, she felt as though she had walked onto the set of a horror movie. She stopped, her breath catching. On one side, she had an unconscious, mutilated Houndoom—on the the other, a Torterra struggling to breathe, the bloodied hands of two Champions on him, desperately trying to help him.

"Dr. Abby," Paul bleated, recognizing her as the help he needed. "My Torterra, his throat-"

Abby quickly reached into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. She quickly bent down next to Torterra, shining the light on his neck. It was as she feared—his carotid arteries had been punctured by the Houndoom's bite.

"We need to get to a Pokémon Center," she said. "I don't have the resources here to treat him. Do you have his Pokéball on you?"

"If I put him in his Pokéball, he'll bleed out and die in there," Paul contended. Dawn and Kenny soon caught up with the group, Kenny stopping momentarily to let out a shaky breath.

"We can't carry him there, Paul," Abby reasoned as calmly as she could. "If we have a cloth or something to wrap around his neck, that may help dam the bleeding, better than your hands can."

Iris straightened up and firmly gripped the edge of her dress, tearing into it with sheer force and ripping off the bottom half—effectively turning her dress into a shirt and leaving her leggings to act as her pants. She handed the cloth to Abby, and Paul gave in, retrieving Torterra's Pokéball.

"What about the Houndoom?" Kenny asked, getting over his shock.

"I don't care about the Houndoom," Paul snarled.

"There's an extra Pokéball in my bag," Abby said as she pressed the cloth to Torterra's neck. "Catch it, we'll take it with us."

Dawn nodded, and she made a grab for Abby's bag, rummaging through it and pulling the ball out. She enlarged it and tossed it toward the Houndoom—but it immediately bounced off. Alarm crossed her expression.

"I-It already has a trainer?!"


"Iris?" Georgia's voice rang out in the women's bathroom as she strolled inside, hand on her hip. "You've been in here for a while now. Your husband's worried. I told him you're probably just sick because you're pregnant, which only made him want me to come check up on you more."

Her words were met with silence. Georgia folded her arms and walked further inside, her heels clicking against the tile as she did.

"Iris, are you in here?" she asked, now more annoyed than before.

More silence.

Georgia finally ducked her head low enough to see if there were any feet beneath the stalls—and there weren't.

"Arceus," she mumbled tiredly before straightening up and hurrying out of the bathroom.


The wait in the Pokémon Center's ER unit was torturous, and the silence that accompanied it was no better. No one knew what to say—if there was anything that could be said. Dawn was focusing of keeping her breathing even, and Kenny kept a comforting hand on her spine—though she might not have noticed either way. Iris was braiding her hair to distract herself. Paul sat alone, his head hanging and a hand pressed against his forehead. His thumb was rubbing his temple.

A cell phone rang. No one moved.

"That's yours, Iris," Paul mumbled, the first thing he had said in a while. Iris snapped out of her thoughts and pulled the device out of her front breast pocket.

"Oh no," she mumbled with a horrified realization before she answered. "Mew, Cilan, I'm so sorry."

"Where are you?!" he frenetically demanded.

"I'm at the Pokémon Center."

"What are you doing there?" he asked. "When Georgia told me you weren't in the bathroom, I immediately thought the worst—I was so scared."

"I'm fine, I promise. There was an issue, an accident. Paul's Torterra-" Iris stopped short, not wanting to recount the horror of the scene with Paul sitting beside her. "I should have called, I'm sorry. I'm with Paul and Dawn and Kenny right now."

"What's wrong with Paul's Torterra?"

"It's... It's too much to explain over the phone." Iris shook her head. "Just come down here. Please."

"... All right." The line went dead, and Iris let out a sigh and lightly banged the back of her head against the wall behind her. She knew he was relieved, but she could tell he was mad, too.

Dawn's breathing took a bad turn as panic set in. Feeling sick, she abruptly stood up and left the room, causing alarm to cross both Kenny and Iris's expressions. Paul didn't react; he stayed as though nothing had happened. Kenny jumped up and followed her, while Iris turned her gaze toward Paul with sadness in her eyes.

"Dawn?" Kenny called after her. She went out the center's doors, and he followed. "Dawn, are you all right?"

She spun around, her shoulders crumpled and her hands clutching her chest.

"It's all my fault—it's all my fault," she cried, her voice shaking. "The Houndoom attacked me, and when Paul—and when Paul and Torterra saved me, I wasn't paying attention, I thought the Houndoom had passed out. And I was too shocked, too stupid, to do anything when that Houndoom latched onto Torterra's neck like that. I had Piplup with me, I could've told him to do something, he's strong against Fire-types, I could have knocked him off."

"Dawn, you can't blame yourself," he tried to assure her.

"If Torterra dies-"

"-Torterra is not going to die," Kenny told her firmly, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Listen to me: You know Abby is one of the best Pokémon Doctors in the entire country, and she's working with Nurse Joy right now. Torterra's in good hands. He'll be fine—I promise he'll be fine. Just breathe, okay?"

Dawn nodded slowly, sucking in her breath and trying to calm herself once again.

"You're right," she said. Kenny nodded with her, letting out a relieved sigh.

"Come on." He pulled her into a tight embrace, and Dawn's hands nervously moved up his back as she laid her head on his shoulder.


Paul wasn't sure how much time had passed since they had come—whether the CIU event had ended or if it was still ongoing, how long Kenny and Dawn had been out of the room. He supposed it couldn't have been too long; he hadn't really been listening when Iris talked on the phone, but she had asked Cilan to come, and he wasn't there yet. These were just minor musings of the mind, however, in a haze of thoughts he couldn't sort out.

He and Iris had both washed their hands since arriving, but they didn't feel clean; the heat was still there, under his skin, beneath his nails. That heat was all he could feel then, and maybe that was good—because he didn't want to feel much else.

"Paul?" His head snapped up when Abby walked through the double doors leading to the operating room. Iris, who had been absentmindedly playing with her wedding rings, also jolted out of her distant thoughts.

"Is he okay?" She jumped up, speaking quickly. "Is he all right?"

Abby looked at her, her lips pursed, but she said nothing. She slowly turned her head back to Paul.

"Paul, come back with me," she gently urged. He nodded, rising to his feet. She held the door open for him—yet he only took a few steps inside before he turned to face her and speak.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "Did his neck snap? Is he paralyzed?"

Abby's bottom lip briefly quivered.

"No," she answered.

"Then, he is fine?" he pressed. Abby sucked in her breath and sighed.

"Paul..."

Paul heard the sympathy, the pity in her tone—neither of which he wanted. He had never wanted them, and he especially didn't want them now.

"... No. No, no." He shook his head. "Don't tell me. Don't tell me-"

"-Nurse Joy and I did everything we could," Abby said, trying to keep her voice even.

"That's not—it's not-" He choked on his own words, his tongue scrambling them, because he didn't know where he wanted them to go; the voice he heard was not his own, it was not the voice he knew he had spoken with for the past 23 years of his life.

Abby fell back, as did her gaze.

"I'm so sorry," she said quietly.

Paul had never fully understood sentiment—why Dawn cried at the end of some movies, why his father persisted in visiting his mother's grave every year, why Reggie would sometimes tear up while watching Cedar performing mundane activities. Emotion—rather, being emotional—was a concept lost on him. When people talked about falling in love, or burning up with hatred, or facing a devastating loss, he thought it was an exaggeration. He wasn't sure if there as something wrong with the world, or if it was just him; if he had simply become numb to most of his feelings. Yet, in that moment, Paul at least understood what it meant to have your heart ripped out of your chest.

.

.

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