In the Central Mistralton Pokémon Center, one of the doors to a trainer's dormitory opened, and Blair poked her head inside.

"Door?"

She received no response, but after a few seconds, she gingerly opened the door wider and slid in anyway.

For the past three days, since she had followed Rosa and N to Mistralton City, it had been more or less the same. She would wake up to a dark dormitory, dress herself in darkness, slip outside as quietly as she could, find breakfast for herself, unplug Opal, care for her own pokémon, care for Door's pokémon, and then…

Nothing.

For the past three days, she did nothing. Or, well, she did many things. Explore the city. Read a little book she found in the pocket of Door's hoodie. Do her research. But she didn't train (because why would she if she wasn't a trainer anymore?), and she didn't push Door to.

And now she was staring at the reason why.

For the past three days, Door Hornbeam hadn't gotten out of bed.

Door was facing the wall at that point, so whether or not she was awake, Blair couldn't tell. For that reason, Blair gently set a paper shopping bag on the desk between her bed and Door's and gingerly sat down next to her friend.

"Hey, Door," Blair said gently. "How are you doing today?"

Nothing. Not even a twitch.

Blair had no idea what happened three days ago. Rosa had mentioned something about Door being attacked in Chargestone Cave—and Door's lack of pokémon and Geist's state seemed to confirm that—but what exactly happened or even why Door was in Chargestone Cave in the first place, Blair didn't know. She barely understood why Rosa was there, other than to follow up on something about Hilda's journey.

Blair barely understood anything about what was going on, to be honest. But she was learning in her free time. Slowly.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Blair leaned forward and said, "Not much happened today. Geist needs some kind of new part I never heard of, and apparently, only your dad can install it. He's supposed to come in later on today. Dr. Fennel's still coming because she's his primary user, like I said yesterday. It'll be nice to see Dr. Fennel again. She was nice."

She paused. Waited for a response she wasn't going to get. Hesitantly, she reached out for Door's shoulder, but then, she stopped and drew her hand back into her lap.

"The tech's great, though," she continued. "She managed to find a way to tap into a backup or something? Of Geist, I mean. Apparently, he's been saving backups every few seconds to the cloud. He won't lose anything when he's fixed—maybe a few seconds just before he went offline. You can even talk to him through the AI communication system if you want. They … they wouldn't let me do that. Because, um. I'm not his registered user. Stupid rule, right?"

She paused again. Sank her shoulders lower.

"Knives and Huntress are okay. They're happy. I don't think they really get what happened, but they're worried about you." Blair lowered her voice. "I'm worried about you too."

More silence. Blair watched Door lay there. Just lay there.

She sighed and stood up, moving to the bag on the desk. Carefully, she drew a bottle from within it and set it on the desk.

"I got you a fresh set of clothes and a towel because I couldn't get your stuff from the item storage system. And on my way back, I found one of my favorite stores in town," she said. Her fingers traced down the bottle. "Back when I was in Trainer's School, sometimes, I'd go through a rough time. Homesickness. A couple of kids being jerks. That sort of thing. So I'd take a shower. A long, hot one. And I'd cry. It's a lot easier to let it all out when you've got the shower going, you know?" She took a breath. "Eventually, I started picking up these scented soaps. Anything to make me a little happier at the end. And this is my favorite one. It smells like lemons, but not like the stuff you use to clean a bathroom or anything. Kinda like … lemon sorbet. It reminds me of summer, actually. Summer back home, I mean."

She hesitated, not to listen to Door's silence this time but instead as if to decide whether or not she wanted to tell this part of the story.

But then, she did.

"Door … I don't think I ever really talked about myself. And … I guess I'm sorry about that. I really do want to be your friend, and I'm sorry for kind of shoehorning myself into all of this and for the way I acted when we met. And also for…"

Her voice trailed off for a moment, but the silence said enough. It spoke volumes about Needles and Red and Door running off to Chargestone Cave after their battle. Blair pressed her lips together and swallowed.

"I-I'm from Aspertia City," she said. "Way out in the suburbs. I lived there with my parents. Just them, really; I don't have any older siblings. But I didn't really grow up alone or anything. You see … I have cousins. Older ones. My dad has a huge family, and my mom … well, her older brother was married to Aunt Bianca, so while I didn't see them every day, for every holiday, the entire family would gather together in Nuvema. And being the baby of the family, all of my cousins went out of their way to keep an eye on me. It was a little embarrassing, growing up like that, but it was safe."

Blair walked to the other bed, trailing her fingertips down the bottle and across the desk as she went. Then, pulling her hand away, she sat down on the edge of her bed, pulled her knees to her chest, and leveled her eyes onto Door. Door hadn't moved an inch all that time.

"My mom wasn't a big deal as a trainer, but her brother almost was. He was the one who helped Rosa Alvarado take down Team Plasma the second time they appeared in Unova," Blair explained. "When I was little, I used to love those times when my parents would take me to see Uncle Hugh and Aunt Bianca because Uncle Hugh always had these amazing stories about fighting Plasma with Rosa or about his time as a police officer in Nuvema or even a little bit about the times he would work with Rosa and the International Police to track down some new criminal organization. Uncle Hugh was always so brave and strong, and he always fought for truth and justice, and Rosa? Rosa was even more of that. Rosa was smart, level-headed, and just so cool according to Uncle Hugh. So I grew up idolizing her, and I swore one day I would be just as strong as Uncle Hugh and just as tough and smart as Rosa Alvarado."

She paused. Cracked a small smile.

"You know, though … when she brought you in and told me what happened, I couldn't say a thing. I just sort of … froze." Her hand swirled by her head. "I don't know. Sometimes, I get that way when I'm nervous. I always did."

She tightened her arms around her knees.

"That's the thing, really," she said quietly. "I wasn't just a terrible trainer back when I was in Trainer's School. I was…" She took a deep breath. "I don't want to complain. I mean, I don't know much about you, but I've read up on you. What I could, anyway. You were raised in Nuvema, right? Your parents were always careful about keeping you away from the media and stuff. Or that's what your mom said in an interview once. I can't even begin to imagine what that must've been like." She shook her head. "Sorry. It's just … like I said, I-I don't want you to think I'm just whining. But it's just that … I grew up with my cousins. They watched out for me. You know. Because I was the baby. And I guess no one really took me seriously back then. So when I told them I wanted to be a trainer, of course they said I could. They gave me Toto, but Toto … I love her, but she's literally a toy. She wasn't designed for battle. And I think they knew that too. I guess they just assumed I'd give up after a while. It sucks, knowing no one believes in you."

Blair smirked and pressed her nose into her knees. She kept her eyes on Door, but they misted a little. Stung. Blurred her vision of the other girl in the darkness.

"I wish I could've shown them, but I didn't," she said. "I didn't get far, no matter what I did. When I was ten, I got to Floccesy City before a trainer beat up Toto so badly I had to go back. When I was eleven, I only got as far as Route 19 before a purrloin finished her off. And when I was twelve, I managed to get all the way to Virbank, but I couldn't get past the gym leader there."

She turned her head and pressed her cheek into her knees. By then, she felt the tears wet the edges of her eyes, so she rubbed them with the back of her hand. But she didn't sniffle. She didn't cry. Not really. She only felt her voice ball up in the back of her throat.

"One of our family friends used to be the gym leader of Aspertia before he retired to teach," she said. "Cheren. Well, Mom told Cheren about how much trouble I was having, and, I don't know. He watched the video of my battle against Roxie, and I guess he saw something in it because he personally wrote the letter of recommendation that got me into Trainer's School."

Blair smiled wryly and shook her head.

"But man, Door. I sucked. You were right, from the very start. I couldn't get the basics down. I couldn't even catch a patrat if they asked me to. I just … couldn't do it. But Cheren went through so much trouble, and Mom was completely behind me. I couldn't just fail. So … I ran away. And I found you."

She looked up. Cautiously, she unfolded her legs and put her feet on the floor. She rose, slowly, hesitantly, as if waiting for Door to do something. But all the girl responded with was silence. Door didn't move as Blair shuffled across the room. She didn't move as Blair leaned down. She didn't even flinch when Blair sat at the edge and wrapped her arms around Door's body, or leaned in to rest her cheek on her shoulder in an awkward hug.

"That's why I acted the way I did. I wanted to impress you," she said. "I don't know why. You were the first trainer I saw, so I wanted things to be different. I wanted to make someone think I was strong. And that was stupid, and I'm sorry. And I know that now because … you're strong. I watched all your gym battles, you know. Except the one against Sophia because that one wasn't recorded, apparently. But the one against Melissa? The one against Sage? Those were incredible. And this one against Elesa too. The moment I read that you were going to battle her, I spent my allowance on a ticket, and it was worth it. You were incredible, you know. You and Knives and Geist. And all those other battles against Team Matrix? Those were incredible too. You're always so confident when you battle, and even when you're having trouble, somehow, you're strong enough to push through anyway. You're like Hilda, I think. Just … wild emotion yet somehow … it works."

She squeezed Door gently.

"I don't know if I'm making sense. I think what I'm trying to say is no matter what's going on, I … I think you're amazing. And I want to get to know you," she said. "I remember how hard you tried to cheer me up in Dr. Fennel's. I think about that a lot, you know. And I've been thinking about what you said to Roland too, back in Driftveil. And I think … I think maybe even if I can't be a trainer, and even if I can't really fight alongside you, I still want to help you somehow."

She pulled herself up but rested her hand on Door's shoulder.

"So … you're not alone, okay? If you want to talk, I'll be here. And if you need anything, I'll do my best."

Blair stood at that point and looked down on Door. She rested her fingertips on the girl and waited, counting the seconds in her head. But two minutes passed, and Door didn't speak, didn't move, didn't acknowledge Blair.

So with a sigh, Blair walked away, back to the room's door. She opened it and slipped halfway out, then cast a glance back into the room. Looking at Door, she couldn't help but think the girl looked still. Not peaceful. Still. Like restlessness and tension and fear all frozen together. And Blair couldn't tell whether Door was asleep or awake, but either way, she knew she wasn't resting.

And for some reason, that bothered Blair more than anything else. It had bothered Blair for the past three days, and maybe it even bothered Blair before they had even arrived in Mistralton. There was just something about Door Hornbeam that got under Blair Whitleigh's skin. Something that drew her in and made her think about Door nonstop. Made her worry about Door nonstop.

Blair frowned. No. She knew why. It was a bunch of selfish whys.

Because for once, someone needed her. For once, someone was interested in her as a friend. For once, someone believed she could do something. For once, she wanted to know more about a person.

And for once, a human being outside of her family made her feel excited to be alive.

And now, looking over at Door, lying there on the bed, Blair mentally begged Reshiram and Zekrom that she could help Door feel excited to be alive too.

"Good night, Door," she said.

She slipped out and closed the door gently behind her.

—

Shortly afterwards, the door opened again, but this time, Blair wasn't the one who slipped in. Instead, it was Knives, padding quietly across the room, cooing softly with every step. When she reached the bed, she stopped and tilted her head at Door. Twitching her ears, she turned to the desk and waddled to it, reaching up for the bottle Blair had left. She grasped it in her paws, popped it open, and sniffed gingerly at it, then tilted her head once more.

Abruptly, she perked up and cried softly, and for the first time in hours, Door moved. She flinched, rustling the sheets around her and drawing her audino's attention. Knives's smile faded as she cooed inquisitively and leaned towards her trainer, and for a long moment, the two of them stayed there—Door lying in a tight ball, and Knives leaning over her, studying her.

And then, Knives snatched her by the shoulder, yanked her out of bed, and forced her to stand up.

Door could have resisted. She might have a tiny bit, but even now, she barely put any energy or effort into her movements. It was easier to stand at the audino's guidance than to collapse onto the floor, than to fight back, than to do anything else. Knives didn't seem to notice. The audino was too busy pulling the clothes and towel Blair had bought from the paper bag and shoving them into Door's hands. Door took them and stared straight ahead, past the audino, even as Knives hummed softly and took her by the wrist.

Knives guided her out: out of the room, through the dormitories, into a bathroom, and to the communal shower stalls. Gently, Knives pushed Door into the stall and sat her down on a small bench inside. She pulled off Door's clothes, scratching her trainer a little with her claws as she did so, but Door didn't even flinch. The girl didn't even flinch as Knives turned on the shower, dousing them both in water that was ice-cold at first but then, very quickly, warm and then steaming.

With deft claws, Knives popped open the cap to the bottle and poured a little soap into one paw. She hummed while she worked it into a lather using her soft fur, and as she began to work on her trainer's hair, the stall filled with the scent of lemon candy and vanilla.

The soft suds trickled down Door's face, and Knives continued down to her partner's shoulders. Carefully. Slowly. She began to wash away the sticky, grimy mix of three-days-old sweat and dust from Chargestone Cave.

And beneath her paws, Door shook with a sob.

Knives was a good pokémon. She prided herself in that. So as her trainer bent over and cried into her knees, Knives patted her on the back and continued to work with a gentle, reassuring coo.

She was a good pokémon. Her trainer was a good trainer. And nothing would change that, in her opinion.

—

At the entrance to the dormitory block, Door hesitated. She pressed her back against the wall to let trainers pass by, and every time the door swung open, she peered into the common area. She could see Blair across the way, busy at one of the cafe tables with a tablet in front of her and Opal seated across from her. And for some reason, the sight of Blair made Door stop, made her think, made her afraid to cross that threshold.

Those past three days were both a blur and not a blur to Door. They were a series of light and dark patches—moments when she recalled lying in bed in a dark room or lying in bed in a light one. She remembered trying to eat stale sandwiches or cold soup sometimes, but she couldn't remember who brought it.

But most of all, she remembered Blair. Not just the time Blair told her a lot about herself all at once but also the times Blair didn't say anything and the times Blair said only a little bit. "Everything's going to be okay." "We'll be here whenever you're ready." "You didn't do anything wrong." "We believe in you." Door heard those words and thought about those words, but they mixed together with all the other thoughts Door had those days. It's your fault Jack is dead. It's your fault Geist is broken. You didn't even try to get to know them. You used them. If Blair knew what you really are, she wouldn't say any of those things. You don't deserve her. You don't deserve anyone.

And even now, after Knives made her crawl out of bed and get a shower—how pathetic is that?—she couldn't stop thinking about that last one. If Blair only knew her, she wouldn't say half the things she did. If Blair only knew her. If Blair only knew her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of something brushing against her hand. She looked down to see Knives, smiling softly, looking at her as if she made the sun rise every day. Knives's paw was in her hand, claws curled tightly around her middle three fingers. The audino walked, pulling at Door until her trainer followed, out the door, across the pokémon center, to the table where Blair and Opal sat. And Blair looked up, and Door's heart froze.

"Door!" Blair gasped. "You're awake!"

Door flicked her eyes to the table. Her lips parted slightly, and an "um" tumbled out.

And then, Blair practically launched herself out of her seat and threw her arms around Door.

You don't deserve anyone.

"I'm happy for you," Blair mumbled into Door's shoulder. "You looked bad."

Door didn't reciprocate the hug. Instead, she took a shaking breath and said her first full sentence in three days. "Jack's gone."

She felt Blair sag against her body. One of Blair's arms pulled away, and she could feel the girl's hand worm into a pocket by her waist.

"I know," Blair said softly. "Here. Rosa asked me to give this to you."

Blair pressed an object into Door's palm. Door could feel the warm, smooth, teardrop shape of Jack's mystic water against her skin, and she closed her fist around it tightly, as if holding onto it would bring him back.

"I'm sorry, Door," Blair said. "I'm sorry I made you run off."

Door swallowed, then shook her head. "Blair, don't."

To Door's surprise, Blair didn't protest, didn't say a word in response. Instead, she wrapped Door in her arms and held her tight. After a moment, Door finally draped her own loosely around Blair's waist.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Door whispered, into Blair's ear. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have—"

"Don't," Blair responded. She pressed her cheek against Door's shoulder. "Don't. It's okay, all right? Everything is going to be okay."

As if to punctuate that thought, Door felt Knives press against her leg. The audino's arms wrapped around her hips, and her pudgy body vibrated with a soft hum. And between Blair's warmth and Knives's, Door couldn't help herself.

She cried for the second time, right into Blair's shoulder.

Door couldn't remember the last time she cried—before that day, anyway. She must have when they left Hoenn because she remembered being upset, but … ever since then, for reasons that sounded stupid to her when she tried to put them into words, she couldn't. Her mom taught her how to be strong, and after Virginia left for Castelia City, Door had to be the sensible one in the family. Sure, Door's father had enough of a head on his shoulders to take care of the bills, and sure, they had Companions taking care of their every household need, but her father was always busy with work after her mother left for Castelia. Door had to keep an eye on herself most days when the Companions didn't. She got herself up, she got herself dressed, and she stayed in as much trouble or out of as much trouble as she liked, without her father really knowing either way.

And so, she didn't cry. Not for those past ten years, since her family brought her to Unova.

Except now, anyway.

And … part of her felt some sort of relief. Some sort of release. Because at that moment, at that very second, she realized one important thing.

Blair wasn't judging her. A human wasn't judging her for her weakness. Blair only let her cry. She didn't say a word. She didn't move except to smooth her hands against Door's back. For the first time in her life, Door Hornbeam felt safe with a human being, and this made her cry harder.

"I didn't treat Jack right," she murmured into Blair's shoulder.

"Don't say that. You were great," Blair said. Then, without skipping a beat: "Opal? Will you get us some tea? You like tea, don't you, Door?"

Door cracked a wavering smile and sobbed. "I hate it."

Blair must have felt Door's expression pressing into her shoulder because she shuddered with a laugh. "Opal? Three cups. Make it green tea. One of them should be audino-sized."

"Right away, Miss Blair!" Opal chirped.

Out of the corner of her eye, Door saw the blurry, white streak that was Opal stand up and rush away. At the same time, Blair shuffled backwards, guiding Door to sit at the booth. Knives pulled away and wormed onto the bench opposite them, worming all the way to the end before slapping the countertop with both paws. Door hiccoughed at the sight and wiped her eyes with one hand; the other Blair held in both of her own.

"Sorry," Door said. "I'm-I'm a mess."

Blair rubbed Door's hand with her thumbs. "Don't apologize. It sounds like you went through a lot. And … I know you treated Jack as well as you could."

"No, I didn't," Door said firmly. "You don't know me. I'm a terrible person. I was a jerk to Geist, and I didn't spend enough time with Jack. And now look what happened!"

She cut off that thought by pounding the table. Blair's tablet rattled against the linoleum countertop, and Blair eyed it briefly before locking gazes with Door.

"You shouldn't beat yourself up," she said. "I mean…" Her eyes trailed away again. "Geist told me about how stubborn and angry you were, but he never thought you were a bad person."

"That's because the stupid idiot's my Companion," Door mumbled, wiping at her eyes again. "He has to think the best of me."

Blair scoffed. "Come on, Door. That's not true."

Door pressed the heel of her hand into her eye but didn't say a word. It was true that Geist had to listen to her, but did anything in his programming say he had to like her? Yet … she wanted what Blair said to be true. She wanted it more than anything short of a complete do-over of that day.

"Anyway," Blair continued, her eyes falling onto their hands, "would that have changed things?"

Door blinked to clear her eyes. She didn't feel like crying anymore. "I don't know," she said softly. "Geist told me not to go into Chargestone Cave. I should have listened to him. And then Jack would still be alive, and Geist wouldn't be…"

She trailed off. Blair pushed Door's sleeve up and rubbed her forearm.

"I couldn't tell whether or not you were awake," Blair said. "But you heard what I said about Geist, right?"

Door nodded with nearly imperceptible movements.

"Well," Blair continued, "Dr. Fennel and your dad are here. The part's coming tomorrow, but they said they can fix Geist. If you want, you could talk to him now."

Door pressed her lips together. She bowed her head and shook it, this time with stiff, quick movements. Blair squeezed her hand and leaned in, pressing her forehead against Door's.

"Hey, listen to me," she said. "He'll forgive you."

"Jack can't," Door said. Her voice squeaked. Her throat was almost too tight for her to speak, and she could feel another wave of tears coming on.

For a long moment, Blair gazed at her, and Door could feel her doing it. She could feel Blair's intense eyes and calm, deep breath. In a way, it was like all those times when Geist tried to comfort her with his calmness and his carefully chosen words, and Door half-expected Blair to say something wise. But no, Blair was different. She was alive, and she could feel in ways Geist couldn't, and because of that, Door wanted her to say something. To hold her again. To feel her warmth.

Blair could understand Door. Blair could feel for Door. And by God, Door wanted her to do both so badly.

She wanted to feel connected. She wanted to be told she was a good person.

But sometimes, life doesn't give a person exactly what they want. What they need is an entirely different story.

"Door," Blair said, "do you know about Celestial Tower?"

Door's throat tightened. Of course she knew about Celestial Tower. Everyone in Unova knew about Celestial Tower.

She nodded, and Blair squeezed her hand.

"Let's go to Celestial Tower," Blair said.

And so they did.

—

FILE NAME: UNTITLED
AUTHOR: Lanette Hamilton
NOTES: From the audio research notes of Lanette Hamilton. Transcript only; sound file has been lost. File transcribed by Cassius Cassine.

LANETTE: Project Eurydice, day 13. The biggest hurdle to creating our own pokémon is replicating their moves. It's easier with pure digital pokémon like porygon or half-organics like voltorb; you can map out the genetics behind natural energy manipulation or grow and transplant organic aura channels yourself. But when you're dealing with a creature that's wholly cybernetic, those methods won't work. They're too incompatible with the hardware structure we've established with the Companions. So what is?

Answer: The aura engine. In layman's terms, the aura engine is a device that generates artificial aura that can be converted into the elemental energy needed to use any number of techniques loaded into a pokémon's memory core. And we're just about to test it. Ready?

████: Almost. Just need one more adjustment and … there! All set. Get behind the safety glass, and we should be good to go.

LANETTE: Got it! For test one, we're starting off easy, with a move that requires minimal aura energy: Bubble. ████, safety check!

[BACKGROUND: a bang]

████: Safety shield engaged.

LANETTE: Engine harness?

████: Steady.

LANETTE: Failsafe?

████: On standby. Well, Lanette. This is it. Are you ready?

LANETTE: Well. A couple of months of work could either run smoothly or literally blow up in our faces. I've never been readier.

████: Have a little faith! When have my calculations ever been wrong? Anyway, here we go. Initiating startup sequence.

[BACKGROUND: boot up of machinery, followed by mechanical hum for 10.23 seconds]

████: Phase one passed. She's holding steady.

LANETTE: Increase power to 80% and begin aura generation sequence.

[BACKGROUND: beep]

████: Power increase initiated. Power at 50% and climbing.

LANETTE: Good. Keep it steady.

[silence for 15 seconds, followed by a second beep]

████: 65%. Approaching phase two.

LANETTE: So far, so good.

████: Maybe.

LANETTE: Maybe?

████: I'm getting a strange energy reading.

LANETTE: Analyze.

████: Already on it. It looks like—oh. Oh no.

LANETTE: What?

████: Aura is leaking into the power grid. I think the safety latch jammed after phase one.

LANETTE: What? Initiate power-down sequence.

████: No. Wait. I think I can fix this.

LANETTE: It's not worth it. Shut it down!

████: It's okay! If I can just reach it before it gets to 75%—

LANETTE: Are you crazy? If aura is leaking into the electrical chamber, that thing could blow at any moment!

[NOTE: At this point, Lanette's voice grows distant, as if the recorder is moving away from her.]

LANETTE: Hey! ████! Get back here!

████: Get down!

LANETTE: ████! ████, no! Don't—

[FOREGROUND: explosion, followed by audio distortion and momentary silence]

LANETTE, close to the recorder: Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, no, no, no, no—

████: Lanette?

[She screams.]

████: Lanette, it's okay! I'm fine! See?

LANETTE: You're fine? There's a hole in your chest, you idiot!

[end recording]