A/N: After so many mentions of Jasmine in my Volkner/Candice stories, it's time she had her moment in the Sunyshore sunshine. I'm still all for both ships, of course! But this should be fun… ;)

Out Loud

"Forget it." Volkner looked at Jasmine with adamant blue eyes. "They can't force you to give a speech."

"It's the least I can do for the League." She felt her lips tremble in spite of herself. "They granted me six months off to come here."

It was another of those nights.

She'd been adrift in her new surroundings. He'd been run down by the same old routine. But they'd found something in each other, thanks to a chance meeting at the lighthouse, and their beachside talks had continued ever since.

Not that either of them were ones to talk, really.

"Still." He shook his head. "They know you hate that sort of thing."

A speech. In front of the whole world. Lance was unavailable to represent the Kanto-Johto League at the annual Sinnoh Summit, owing to some clan business back in Blackthorn. Luckily, he'd assured Cynthia, they happened to have a Gym Leader right there in Sunyshore…

Jasmine kicked at the sand beneath her toes and said nothing.

"You did tell them, didn't you? That you're not comfortable?"

The ocean breeze whipped through her hair. Sighing, she swept a lock from her face, wishing Volkner might one day do the same.

"Jasmine." His words grew sharper, almost indignant. "Stand up for yourself, once in a while. It's not worth all this grief."

Then his gaze softened as her shoulders slumped.

"Come on." Volkner took her in his arms, and she let herself fall against him. "You're gonna be fine. I've seen you in battle. That's what you show them up there, got it?"

"Volkner?"

"Yeah?"

Someday, Jasmine would say it. That their time together had changed her in ways yet untold. That her heart beat out of rhythm when he whispered her name. That when she returned to Olivine, it was him she'd miss the most.

"…Thanks."

That was, if she could ever find the courage.

"…On behalf of the Kanto-Johto League," Jasmine pronounced each syllable carefully, resisting the urge to look down at her feet. "Thank you. And enjoy your night."

She glanced around the theater at the audience of Drifloon Fantina had assembled—the Hearthome Contest Hall was as good a place as any to rehearse. But they didn't clap. Did Drifloon know to clap?

"Be honest." She turned to Fantina backstage. "How was I?"

"Well." Fantina hesitated. "You're magnifique as a coordinator…"

"That bad?"

Fantina's advice had been reassuring at first. After all, she'd said, Jasmine was no stranger to the spotlight. She could think of it like a contest.

"Project your voice," Fantina repeated for the hundredth time that afternoon. "Look the spectators in the eye. Be formidable."

Unfortunately, as Jasmine found herself now painfully aware, Fantina had overlooked one key distinction. People came to contests to watch the Pokémon.

Not her.

"But I get nervous. So much, I can barely speak. All those faces staring back at me…"

Jasmine wasn't afraid of ghost Pokémon—or any Pokémon, for that matter. But the crowd of Drifloon with their eyes fixed on her filled her with dread. The crowd of famed trainers at the Summit would be no different.

"Fantina," she asked, "what more can I do?"

"Ma cherie," Fantina said gently, "have you considered counseling?"

Jasmine wandered by the bustling Sunyshore market in a daze. The day of her speech had arrived, and there was no telling how she would make it through the night.

With a passing look around, she noticed the stall in the back corner. She'd never seen it occupied before. The banner caught her eye.

Chatot Therapy: Unleash Your Inner Voice

A sign. A literal sign. Perhaps this was just what she needed.

"Hello." She stepped up to the counter. "I'd like to try this, please."

Jasmine wasn't naïve, of course. These market vendors weren't always what they seemed. But what did she have to lose? Suppose it did nothing. She'd only be out some of her battle winnings.

"Here's the deal." The salesman talked fast and forcefully. "You pay up front. You get a session every week for six weeks. And your inner voice will come out. Any questions?"

"Just one." Jasmine smiled. "Would it be possible to have all my sessions today?"

The Chatot's stare was intense, and its chatter was relentless. As it prattled on without pause, its eyes almost seemed to spin. Jasmine watched closely, never daring to avert her gaze. This had to work.

It was the only thing left that could work.

"Done." The man's stopwatch went off. "Lady, you're good to go."

Her sessions were complete at last. But Jasmine didn't feel any different. "How long till it happens?"

"Three hours, give or take."

"Perfect." She rose from her seat and collected her belongings. She'd be ready just in time.

"Lovely venue." Jasmine adjusted her cream-colored dress as she entered the Summit. "Wonderful atmosphere. Only slightly overwhelming. But what event of this size isn't?"

"Well," an elderly woman greeted her. "It's nice to see such an enthusiastic guest."

"I'm Jasmine, of the Johto Gym Leaders." She offered a handshake, and received a firm one in return. "Pleased to meet you."

"Bertha, of the Elite Four. Welcome to Sinnoh."

"Oh," Jasmine thought to herself. "Agatha's family. We've all heard her stories, back at the League."

"Yes." Bertha's face lit up. "Agatha always did love to talk."

Jasmine blinked. "Are you a psychic trainer, then?"

"No, dear," Bertha said kindly. "You're thinking of Lucian." She gestured toward a group clustered in a far corner. "Tall young man. Burgundy suit. Would you like an introduction?"

"I'm fine, thank you." She stood frozen as Bertha went on her way. "Only I didn't say that out loud… did I?"

Jasmine accepted a glass of water from a server and hurried to a nearby table. "My inner voice," she realized, steadying herself against it. "He couldn't have meant…"

"Mind if we hang out here?" asked a girl in green, with two others in tow. "I'm Gardenia, and this is Maylene and Candice. You look like you could use some company."

"Jasmine, of the Johto League." She attempted a smile. "I often do. That's what my friend Whitney says. That I'm shy at parties. I should relax and mingle more. Well, we're friends, but we're not really friends, if that makes any sense. But life's like that sometimes, isn't it?"

"Whitney's my friend. Goldenrod's amazing for shopping," Candice joined in with a sip of her cocktail. "You know, you don't seem shy…"

Jasmine gripped the table's edge for support. "I said that just now. This isn't happening."

"Oh, it's happening." Gardenia motioned around the room. "The greatest party known to Sinnoh!"

"Love an excuse to dress up," said Candice.

"Love the food," said Maylene.

"I'll have to try it." And Jasmine couldn't help but notice. "Why aren't you wearing any shoes?"

"Oh." Maylene grinned. "It's kind of my thing. I train barefoot. Battle barefoot. Go out barefoot, too."

"I keep telling her." Candice showed off glittering heels of her own. "She'll get into fashion when she's older."

"I'm so sorry," Jasmine told Maylene. "I don't mean to be rude. The Chatot made me say it."

Maylene took a step back. "Um…"

"I went to a new place at the market. Chatot therapy. To unleash my inner voice. And it did something to me." She crossed her arms protectively over her form. "And now I can't help speaking my mind. All of it."

"Ooh." Candice pulled a face. "Nightmare."

Gardenia's expression remained unchanged. "Is it so bad, saying what you really think? What's the worst that could happen?"

"I could say the wrong thing in my speech." Jasmine's breath came faster as panic set in. "Anything." She clutched at her water. "Embarrass myself on global television. Let down the Kanto-Johto League. Tell Volkner I'm in love with him."

She clapped a hand over her mouth. Her glass fell to the floor. Maylene and Gardenia covered their eyes as it shattered. Candice's eyes grew wider still.

"You… you had to ask that?" All three pairs of eyes were on her now. "Oh, no. Please. You won't tell him, will you?"

"Of course not." Candice flashed a tight smile. "What are new friends for?"

It was Gardenia who broke the silence. "You know Volkner?"

"We met at the lighthouse," Jasmine began to reminisce. "I'm staying in Sunyshore, you see. So we talk, every now and then. We talked the other night. And when he held me in his arms and told me it was going to be fine—"

"Does he talk about me?" Candice's voice went higher.

"No."

"Are you sure?" She frowned, twisting a napkin between her fingers. "We've really been getting to know each other. And we hang out at the Battleground all the time."

"Now that you mention it," Jasmine remembered. "He did say something. 'This leader Candice who shows up at the Battleground when I do and acts like it's some kind of coincidence.'"

Candice tore the napkin to bits. "Anything else?"

"Um. 'Who goes to the Battleground in a miniskirt, anyway?'"

Gardenia and Maylene exchanged glances. Candice reached for her drink.

"I'm sorry. It's what he said!"

"Jasmine." Candice drained her cocktail in a single gulp. "From our League to yours, we'll do everything we can to keep you from spilling your secret to Volkner tonight. That's a promise."

Volkner found her by the appetizers. "Jasmine. How you holding up?"

"Not well. I'm so nervous, I can't eat a thing." She moved to face him. "You look wonderfully handsome tonight. So handsome, it might be making it worse." She set down her plate and put a hand to her lips. "I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have."

"Don't be." His eyes traveled over her. "You're gonna knock 'em dead."

"Do you think so?" She smoothed down her dress and tucked a loose wisp of hair back into her chignon. "I hoped you'd think so. I wish I hadn't said so. Where did Candice and the others go off to, anyway?"

Volkner chuckled. "You met them, huh?"

"They seem nice. And they promised to make sure I wouldn't tell—"

Jasmine turned and ran.

"There. He won't follow me in here." Jasmine addressed her reflection in the ladies' room mirror. "I need to control myself. I have to clear my head." She took several deep breaths. "Don't panic. Stay calm. Think nothing. Say nothing."

The door swung open. She ducked around a corner. Two pairs of high heels and one set of lighter footsteps echoed louder.

"Honestly," came Candice's voice. "You didn't have to hold me back."

"But Candice," came Maylene's. "This isn't fair."

"You heard Jasmine," said Candice. "She doesn't want to tell Volkner. I don't want her to, either. We want the same thing."

Gardenia laughed. "That's one way of putting it."

The words flew out as Jasmine realized. "You like Volkner?" She emerged from her hiding place with a gasp.

"What? No!" Candice dropped her lip gloss into the sink. "…Maybe. Does it matter? I'm helping you, aren't I?"

"But you have to admit." Gardenia shot her a pointed look. "You could've been more honest about your reasons."

Jasmine pushed past the girls and made her way to the door. "You know, I'm not sure we're going to be friends after all."

"What's going on?" Volkner caught her wrist as she returned. "You okay? Talk to me."

"Not now." She slipped free of his grasp. "I can't." And she darted through the crowd and into a nearby elevator.

"Miss, that's a private elevator," warned an approaching security guard.

"I'm sorry," Jasmine called back while the doors slid shut. "I didn't know!" She rode until they opened onto a rooftop terrace.

"Can I help you?" Champion Cynthia stood there, in remarkably close conversation with—

"Champion Steven. So it's true what they say. Not that it's any of my business. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. Or say that."

"Can I help you?" Cynthia's expression hardened.

"Do you know how to reverse Chatot therapy? Can you cancel my speech? Is there somewhere I can hide until the Summit's over?"

Cynthia glanced at Steven. "Well, it's not here."

Jasmine doubled back to the elevator. Her Pokégear rang. The display lit up with Lance's name.

"Do I answer?" she asked herself. "Texting would be safer. Or e-mail." She lowered the device, then raised it to her ear. "But Lance wouldn't phone if it wasn't important." She pressed the button to accept the call.

"Jasmine! Where in Sinnoh have you gone? It's time for the speech and they tell me you're nowhere to be found."

"Upstairs. On the roof."

"Well, you need to get downstairs," said Lance. "Everyone's waiting."

"Lance," she pleaded with him. "I don't think I can do this…"

"You can do this. I know you can. All of Johto's watching you." And the line went silent.

Jasmine closed her Pokégear with quivering hands. "Was that meant to be helpful?"

"Leader Jasmine. Right on schedule."

No sooner had she arrived on the ground floor than two suit-clad handlers rushed her to the podium.

"I'm sorry," she tried once more. "But I—"

"Please welcome Leader Jasmine of Johto," a voice boomed over the speakers, "representing the Kanto-Johto League."

"Well, I suppose I don't have a choice."

Jasmine shakily undid the clasp on her purse and unfolded her speech.

"On behalf of the Kanto-Johto League…" She cleared her throat. "I wish Lance had never asked me to do this. I'd never have to do this back in Johto. No, wait. That's not what I meant to say."

Laughter echoed around the room.

"Times like this I wonder why I even came to Sinnoh. I could've just kept to my gym and none of this would be happening. I'd like to thank the Sinnoh League, Champion Cynthia, and everyone here tonight. Except Cynthia's on the roof with Champion Steven."

The sound of the crowd grew louder.

"Get my editor on the phone. We need the Cynthia and Steven story out there, now."

"I warned Cynthia the open bar was a bad idea. I foresaw it. 'But Lucian,' she said, 'we need people to come to the Summit…'"

"Something's not right with that girl. Is she on drugs?"

"I'm not on anything!" Jasmine cried out. "It wasn't supposed to go like this. If you'd all just stop staring at me…" She fumbled with the paper in her hands. "The Kanto-Johto League is grateful for the cooperation of its extra-regional allies…"

"You never know what those Kanto-Johto leaders are like. Remember Giovanni?"

"Stage fright, that's what it is. It's a perfectly normal thing…"

"I reckon she's having a nervous breakdown. Should we call first aid? Or security?"

"A network of mutual assistance between the Leagues remains critical to our continued success," she read on. "The lights are so bright up here. I hope no one can see through my dress. Oh, don't look. I said don't!"

"Well, I can't see through her dress. Maybe if they turned up the lights a bit more…"

"This is better than that time Flint and Volkner got into the whiskey."

"Cut to commercial. I repeat, cut to commercial."

"I just said that on national television. No, international. I think I might faint. I wish I could faint. At least then it'd all be over…"

"Now..." Again, the voice filled the speakers. "We interrupt this message for a word from our sponsors…"

And the handlers escorted Jasmine, trembling, off the stage.

"Jasmine." Volkner took her by the shoulders. "What happened there?"

She collapsed into his arms, burying her face in his chest. "I'm leaving. I just want to leave."

"Volkner!" Candice appeared at his side within moments. "I've been looking all over for you!"

He didn't turn. "Let's get you out of here."

Jasmine shook her head. "I'll go on my own. I'd rather. Really."

"Your trainers are trying to reach you," Candice pressed on. "Your gym—it's short-circuiting! They warned you not to overload the system…"

"You sure you're all right?" Volkner asked Jasmine. "No offense, but the way you've been acting…"

"I know." The words came tumbling forth. "It's my own fault. There was this place at the market. I should never have gone. I only wanted to give a good speech." Unshed tears clouded her eyes. "And now I say everything out loud. Even when I don't mean to. And I can't make it stop."

"Volkner!" Candice's voice grew desperate. "I said, your gym's on fire—"

Jasmine cut her off. "I'd bet my gym it isn't."

"Same." Volkner grinned. "'Bout time you stood up for yourself."

Candice lifted her chin and headed straight for the bar.

"It's not worth it." Jasmine sank back into Volkner's embrace. "Not after that. The whole world's laughing at me. Lance's going to be furious. I can't face anyone." She lowered her gaze. "You, least of all."

"Why?"

"I'm in love with you. And I'm terrified I'll say it."

Volkner let go.

Jasmine had hoped to discover it was only a bad dream. She'd had no such luck.

She'd awakened to find her inner voice safely back inside where it belonged, but the aftereffects remained. Word traveled fast. Her speech was a viral sensation. The Kanto-Johto League PR department had sprung into damage control mode immediately.

She'd heard from Lance (sympathetic but not pleased), Whitney (oddly envious of the attention), and Erika (recommended a range of calmative herbs). When she'd dared to open her Pokégear to the news, the headlines had been mixed.

Some speculated the incident had been planned—a misguided attempt at comedy, a well-timed publicity stunt. Others wrote of young Gym Leaders crumbling under the pressure, how a career in the spotlight wasn't for everyone.

At any rate, the unlicensed therapy practice at the Sunyshore market was now closed pending a thorough investigation, said the local papers. So that was something.

Volkner hadn't called. Not that she'd expected him to.

She'd told him how she felt. He'd left to get some air. After which he'd spent the night on the balcony downing beer after beer with Flint until four in the morning, so the photographs had shown.

Still, at least he hadn't left with Candice—who'd tripped over her heels and been carried out of the party by a resigned Maylene.

Champions Cynthia and Steven had managed to escape the rooftop before the paparazzi came circling overhead in a fleet of Swellow and Staraptor, raising questions as to whether Jasmine had made the whole story up.

She'd yet to find a single picture in which her dress was in fact see-through, so her fears in that regard had been unfounded. Though some bolder fan accounts did seem to wish otherwise.

Jasmine set her Pokégear aside. She didn't want to read any further.

Jasmine had only briefly left her bed when a knock sounded at her beachside rental that evening. She opened the door just a crack.

"Hey." Volkner stood expressionless on the porch. "You up for a walk?"

At least it wasn't a journalist. Or one of those fans. She pulled her robe tighter around herself with self-conscious laughter. "I'm hardly dressed for one."

"Then get dressed." The concern in his tone tempered his blunt words. "You can't hide here forever."

She returned to her room and threw on a nondescript sundress over her half-undone updo before stepping out to meet him. There was no point making an effort anymore.

The beach had cleared for the most part, as it tended to by late afternoon. The sun shone even now, in blinding contrast to her shuttered cottage. She didn't know what to say.

Volkner seemed to notice. "Back to normal, I take it."

Jasmine nodded. "Thankfully."

He walked alongside her in tense quiet. When they reached a deserted cove, he sat down and motioned for her to join him. "It could've been worse, you know."

"I don't think so." She slumped onto the sand. "It was humiliating."

"Oh, no doubt. But if that's all you've got running through your mind..." A smirk came over his features. "Imagine the shit I would say. Cynthia'd have me fired on the spot."

"She wouldn't." Jasmine felt a smile forming. "She'd be on the roof with Champion Steven from Hoenn."

"Still would. She'd find a way."

And a silence descended upon them, heavier than the roar of the waves.

Jasmine longed to clear the air. To tell him they were okay. That what they had was too dear to her to lose, to let it be swept away by love unreturned and feelings better left unspoken.

She could do this. If only she found her inner voice once more.

"Volkner, about what I said…"

"Yeah." He exhaled sharply. "That… was a lot."

Her heart sank. Maybe they weren't okay.

"Then I got to thinking." He raised a palm to his brow. "I've got the hangover to show for it, too."

Jasmine trained her eyes on the setting sun. "It's all right." She hesitated, but her resolve never wavered. "…If you don't feel the same. I'll understand. It won't change a thing."

Volkner caught her gaze and held it steadfast. "And if I do?"

"You mean—"

"Took me long enough to figure out, huh?"

"I wish I'd known." With a laugh, soft and rather breathless, she lay back beside him on the beach. "I would've at least combed my hair."

He leaned over her and tucked a strand behind her ear. "I like you with bed hair. Gives me ideas."

"Volkner!"

Grinning wickedly, he brushed his lips against hers. "All kinds of ideas."

Jasmine met them in a tentative kiss and lost herself in sunlit rapture as he kissed her back in ways that were so much more. Perhaps it wasn't the end of the world to set free her inner voice now and then.

Perhaps she would. Just a little.