Chapter 17 - The Cycle

"You fool! How many times do I have to tell you?!"

"Pops, I'm doing this!"

"You'll never make it! Everyone in the village would agree!"

"Oh yeah? We'll see!"

"Where do you think you're going?!"

Leah dashed out of her house; she looked nothing short of livid. A grimace, akin almost to a pout, had been painted under her nose. She huffed once, and a whiff of smoke residue puffed out.

This wasn't the first time such a thing had happened; the erratic Fennekin was well known to clash with her polar opposite parent figure on a daily basis. The noise was simply part of the background of Serene Village's daily choir.

The big issue here was that I knew exactly what they had been arguing about. And I knew this was a loss that I would share with her.

She quickly stormed over to me as I waited by my front door. A loud groan forced past her lips even though her exit had already telegraphed her crash-and-burn clearly enough. "Ugh! I can't believe my pops doesn't understand!"

Just as I had feared. Of course Carracosta wasn't about to just submit to such a bold idea as mine had been.

Yesterday, Leah had tried to convince her pops at the same time I had tried to convince Nuzleaf. Both of us came up miserably short. Leah's first attempt was subtle and more accommodative to her pops' wishes, who shut her down without a big fuss occurring between them. This was apparently all part of her plan, in which she intended to apply her "persuasive tactics", as she had coined it, again this morning with a little more flare and determination.

Her efforts carried her straight to the losing end of an lopsided argument—more or less a thorough scolding.

Here we stood at the crossroads, a key factor to our plans mercilessly chained by the shackles of authority. This was not the first time we had stood in this spot making plans, but the ideas we exchanged here had always fallen no further than when to visit the hill or which local biome to explore on any insignificant day. This, though, was far more critical, and the added layer of stress already seemed to have affected our mood. After all, our agenda had just been slammed into a brick wall. Things would likely prove a lot more difficult now that Nuzleaf and Carracosta knew what we aspired to do, and the more I thought about it, the more I revolved to take matters into my own hands as precious time ticked by.

But I supposed I honestly should have known that it wouldn't be this easy. We were expected to start school again in a couple months, not go frolicking away from the village in a manner that would make the adults paranoid.

Leah let out a confounded sigh to subdue some of her lingering anger. "I'm sorry Sage..." Her tone matched the remorse in her eyes. "He won't listen to anything I say. I don't know what to do."

Her words confirmed what I had already inferred. Still, they sent a wave of disappointment down my spine. "Neither do I. So far things aren't looking up." I rubbed my forehead and cringed. "—Argh, this is so frustrating!"

"Then again..." Leah began, a pint of enthusiasm picking up in her voice to expel the growing impetus in mine. "Maybe if the villagers can vouch for alove of our hard work, then my pops will have no choice but to understand!"

I bit my tongue softly, unsure that was a possibility worth considering. "...I mean, we can try to ask around, but... what makes you think anyone will support our decision to leave?"

"Because of the work we've been doing, silly!" She balanced on three legs and punched me on the arm playfully when she said this. She looked a bit awkward balancing like that, but the idealistic grin that suited her so well made her look more like herself again. "They can't ignore all the work we've done for the local community. I bet the whole village will line up to tell my pops about all the things Team Prism is capable of!"

It amazed me how quickly she could transition from seething rebellion to crestfallen defeat and then finally to her current optimistic spell. I couldn't help but smile; she certainly was polarizing. It was a positive energy so often ridiculed by the villagers, but that was priceless to me at the moment. With the weight of an imminent threat lurking that could only be tied to myself, feeding off of my partner's positivity might just carry me through the day. It genuinely made me wonder, not for the first time upon my arrival, how nobody else in this place had bothered to befriend her—an action she would surely have returned in her previous state.

Their loss.

Still—the thought pained me, but still—I had to be as realistic as possible. I couldn't say I was entirely behind Leah's plan to toss together some kind of petition that she planned to wave in her pops' face and call his loss. Even if she was on the right track and some of the adults around the village would get on board, what were the chances Carracosta would just roll over at the slightest entreaty of a third party influence? How realistic was that? It was true that she had obviously lived with her pops for far longer than I had known him, so it wasn't really my place to make the call. But I also felt like it was that very optimism that just now had me smiling that was also trying to manage something that was over the limit of plausibility.

Oh, whatever... maybe I was just being pessimistic and this would miraculously get us exactly what we wanted. Ever since yesterday's failure at Revelation Mountain, it wasn't like any alternatives had raised a hand. With that said, who was I to critique her maneuvers? She was doing this for me just as much as she was doing it for herself.

"We can start with the plaza," Leah began, setting aside some of her elation and replacing it with cardinal resolve. I followed her line of sight toward the fork in the road, and noticed some of the villagers had begun to exit their homes and disperse into the outdoors for their routine commerce.

I stared at the fork in the road contemplating the probabilities for a moment longer, before mentally shaking off the last bit of my worries to be cast away. My determined nod was met with another of her gleeful smiles.

Our plan... was it just to walk up to the nearest adult and ask them 'what would you think if we ran off for some unexplained reason?' I was finding it incredibly hard to believe that that would be a realistic approach if we honestly wanted positive results. That was just asking to be laughed at.

I never got a chance to voice this to Leah, however, who bounded forward the moment the plaza's orange wooden gate was within range. Not wanting to be left behind, I jogged after her just as we had done so many times through this area, naturally when matters were not as dire. A pang of sadness pricked my heart; would we ever get to experience enjoying each other's company across these turquoise grasses again?

...No. There was no time to worry about that. The issue at hand still needed to be addressed, and standing around moping wouldn't mend a thing.

A sound ahead drew my attention from the green. A few of the villagers stood around in the plaza, seemingly gathering for a specified purpose that extended beyond a simple chat. Leah was standing in the midst calling out to someone, and it took me a moment of approaching to realize that it wasn't me. A bird, evidently one with the biology favoring water rather than land, hovered above the peckering villagers. Such a creature had never been seen before in my time in Serene Village, so the sight brought me closer all the quicker. Such was the curiosity of one living a straightforward life and suddenly given a glimpse of the other side.

"Pelliper! Oh my goodness it's been so long!" Leah hailed down the fat pelican that was just about to glide away.

"—Oh! Why hello, young one!" the pelican greeted in an accent that sounded a bit more uniform than what i had grown used to hearing. He gave us a friendly wave of his wing, which Leah returned by flicking her ears. "I remember you from my visit a while back. I see you've still got plenty of spunk in your trunk!"

"What's in the mail?" the Fennekin asked.

Lombre, Raticate, and Hippopotas were all crowded around Pelliper when we arrived, and upon hearing her question, tuned their eyes toward him with spotlight eagerness. I had never heard of this Pelliper guy, and he had never visited the village ever since my arrival a couple months back; still, I could easily deduce from the looks on everyone's faces that his presence must mean excitement. Judging by Leah's question and doubled by the obvious mail bag slung around the flying-type's shoulders, this excitement came in the form of a delivery.

"Something you country folk might find a little interesting," he said in a hesitant tone. "It's a weird world out there, I tell you. I've gotta go hit the next town, so until next time!"

He extended his wings, and with a farewell nod of his enormous yellow beak, he took to the skies once more. Left behind for us was a large stack of what appeared to be newspapers.

Lombre picked one up, and Hippopotas and Raticate crowded around him to see. A sudden gasp from Lombre quickly caught mine and Leah's attention, and we tried to get around them to get a good look.

"Look at this!" Lombre exclaimed, pointing at something on the front page.

"Heavens above!" Raticate blurted when he followed where Lombre was pointing. "There's a new bistro open in Lively Town!"

"Not that you dingus! This!" Lombre punched him on the arm and jabbed his finger at a point on the paper with excessive emphasis.

Unwilling to deal with their abstract conference, I nabbed one of the papers from the stack with my vines and held it out for Leah and I to read. The headline was emboldened and, by design, caught the eye of anyone skimming along the front page.

Ninth Pokemon Turned to Stone this Month: A National Crisis!
Water Continent National Guard to Finally Initiate Full Investigation!

The headline initially made me roll my eyes. What kind of bogus was this Lively Town media cooking up? Were they so out of ideas that it was just another day at the office to claim that a living, breathing creature could become—

Then I saw the picture. It was an odd-looking Pokemon: a spherical blue body with circular arms made of what looked like cotton that were just as large as its actual frame. 'Jumpluff' was what the paper said the name was. I scrutinized for details: she was a citizen of a district near Lively Town, who was active in local politics and ran a pastry shop. This potentially significant information was unfortunately deemed useless upon reading a recount of some other victims of this phenomenon later in the article. These were just random Pokemon living their lives, and the text grasped in my vines was claiming that their bodies were being transformed into rock. What the hell?

But the picture of that Jumpluff was what really got me thinking. It looked so real! I couldn't explain it, but it just made sense from viewing the picture that was capitalized on by the article below it. The print boasted decent quality, the colors rendering seamlessly onto the top left-hand corner of the front page article. Not that coloration mattered when displaying the flavorless nothings of a rock.

It wasn't the immaculate detail of the victim's "body", but instead her face that grabbed hold of my comprehending gaze. The emotion of fear, lip curled back in the beginnings of a scream—a scream she would never get to finish. The paper had pronounced her as deceased as a result of the unusual predicament. If the outlandishness being claimed here was actually true, I would find it hard to argue that this Pokemon still clung to life.

The concept of being turned into a literal rock—a rock!—didn't sit right with me. Not so much the validity of its occurrence, but rather the extension of its cruelty. How could the microscopic particles of a body blessed with the gift of life be rearranged to become one with the inanimate stone that could be found in the earth? On the sidewalk? Arteries and nerves rendered obsolete by some defiance of the laws of physics. Brain matter that should contain every memory and personality trait of a real individual being, transformed into the gravel that I would walk on every day to go to school. It simply didn't compute.

It had to be bullshit, right?

Of course. It had to be.

A sharp gasp to my right confirmed that my partner's initial ambiguity had been profoundly contested just as mine had.

"What the... that's—" she trailed off in her skepticism and allowed silence to linger.

"—impossible," I finished for her. Not that it really mattered; the statement already went unspoken.

"Bah!" Lombre exclaimed with narrowed eyes. He crumpled up the paper in his claws and placed it on his hat; he'd presumably discard it later. "It's probably the latest fear-inducing rhetoric cooked up by the Lively Tribune, intending to scare those of us who couldn't give a damn for their extremist idealism."

Lombre's politics, which he ranted on for several more seconds as I drowned it out in the background, might have amused me if not for the sudden weight in the air. Despite my memory predicament, I felt strongly about who I was and what my personal traits were, and that included a natural instinct to question everything. This report could all be forged for attention and monetary gain by this "Lively Tribune" that featured it on the front page.

So why did it catch my eye like this? Maybe it was because of the difficult to forge such an internationally pressing story, or perhaps it was my newfound Exploration Society motives that let this invade my thoughts. Maybe it was even me just acting paranoid about every little overturned leaf in the forest.

Raticate and Hippopotas didn't look all too convinced by Lombre's conclusion of media manipulation. What he said could have made sense perhaps, but they seemed to come to an unfortunate conclusion of their own: one that seemingly followed in the article's declarations. And what better timing for word of this distant drama reaching Serene Village than when Leah and I were about to campaign for our ticket out of here?

"That's insane," Raticate said, still taken aback from what he'd read. "Pokemon turning to stone? How does that even work?"

"I vouldn't know," answered Hippopotas in a high pitch that articulated his surprise. "I certainly hope zat ze culprit stays far from ze village. 'Tis why I moved here to ze country, to stay away from all ze bad commotion in ze towns and cities."

Raticate nodded his profound agreement. Lombre just rolled his eyes, but then nodded at the comment about living in the city.

"Um, excuse me," Leah interjected into their conversation, getting their attention. Better now than never. "We wanted to ask you all for your support on something."

"You need our support? Whatever for?" Raticate asked.

Instead of answering, Leah nudged me, turning her head to look at me expectantly. She twitched her ears toward the three adults.

"W-what?" I stammered at her in a hushed volume. "Hey, this was your idea! You do the talking, you're better at it anyway!"

"I do the thinking, you do the talking," she answered smugly. A self-satisfied smirk was plastered on her face. She was clearly enjoying messing with me while the last residue of the morning fog was yet to clear out of my brain.

"It's the other way around, Leah," I moaned, before putting on a grin and returning fire. "But since you're in such dire need of my abilities as usual, I'll suppose I'll carry the load this time."

"Hmph. You're cold, Smugleaf," she teased. Her face got serious as soon as she punctuated her response, however, and she gave me a nod of affirmation. "Seriously though, try not to screw it up. This is all we got left to try."

"What are you kids jabberin' about?" Lombre questioned loudly, grabbing our attention away from each other.

"Sorry," I responded politely. "We just wanted to get your opinion on something."

"What would that be?"

I cleared my throat. I was still a bit apprehensive of a negative response, likely stemming from the pessimism I had mentally expressed toward this last resort of an idea. They could end up seriously considering this question, or they might just laugh their asses off. There was one way to find out.

"What would you think of me and Leah leaving the village?"

I said it. And they stared.

I began to feel a lot like I had when I had told the class of my human origin. There had been a silence that suspended the surrounding disbelief in the air for an unbearably long moment. Now, even though it was impossible to immediately read the thought processes that were bred from the receiving end of the question, I instantly felt the same heat rise to my head as doubt poked at the edges of my skull, washing away some of the confidence I had built up.

Hippopotas took the honors of speaking up first. "You...? Leaving ze village? For vat reason?"

Answering this, I knew, would prove to be the hard part. I truly did have a logical reason to leave as soon as possible, but problem was that we couldn't actually voice this reason to any of the villagers due to the complication of my human origin and its undiscerned ties into the Beeheyem's offensive. Telling them about it would certainly warrant a similar reaction to that of my classmates on that day when Pancham asked where I was from. It was incredibly frustrating to run into this kind of roadblock again, but it was only to be expected that we would. It probably wouldn't be the last time, either.

"Just... think about it," I continued casually, hoping to veer away from his question. "Leah and I are pretty experienced with handling ourselves outside of the village. Don't you think we would be alright if we were to leave for an extended period of time?"

"Where would you go?" Lombre inquired.

Leah piped up before I could throw together an answer. "Lively Town!"

As if they hadn't already experienced a village week's worth of shock in just the past few minutes, the three adults in front of us grew wide eyes once more.

Raticate would break the silence this time with a conflicted voice. "You two? Go to Lively Town?" Upon Leah nodding confirmation, he let out a morose sigh that dumpster'd the remaining residue of my hope that wasn't already scraped away by the claws of realistic inference. "Listen, kids, you two have put in a lot of hard work in the recent days. In a way, we're all proud of the little jobs you've been able to complete for your exploring game. But, Lively Town is far away, and there are dangerous places along the way there. It's no place for you two."

Exploring game? Little jobs? We fought a Salamence! We save lost Pokemon on the daily! Where's our respect?

The irony of it all led me to a small step below outright blowing up at the three now regarding us with discontempt. The villagers were conscious of the safety parameters of our activity to a level that might as well be considered perfectionism, all while it was they who were in danger of the very thing I was trying to lead away from them. After everything we had done for them, just to be written of as a child's intuition! Was it not because of us—the two social outliers of the village!—that the valley was a much more profient land than what preceded Team Prism? Sure there weren't many issues with the environment to begin with, but I never saw anyone going the extra mile to do the work that we had been doing.

I wanted to thoroughly voice my irritations, but Lombre decided to drop his own opinion before I could smack down mine.

"Yep. City folk may not be as hardened and capable as us country folk, but they're cunning and manipulative. You two wouldn't last a day, no offense intended."

I scoffed, this time more than happy to speak up. "I'm pretty sure we've done at least one job for each one of you three that you couldn't handle yourself." I raised an eyebrow as a challenge. "You're seriously telling us that we wouldn't last a day?"

He frowned. "Now, you too are still a wee bit too young to fully comprehend the bustle of business and the properties of sustaining yourselves. You'd best respect your elders and stay away from those kinds of dangers for now. Sorry, but that's just how it goes." Before I could snap back, Lombre tipped his hat at us and the three adults walked away towards the cafe, presumably to discuss that crazy article in a more media-oriented environment.

"What a load of—urgh!" I huffed through my nostrils in frustration and glanced over at Leah. Most of the enthusiasm that had captivated her barely ten minutes ago was stripped away by the adult's words. Replacing it was an uncertainty that was mostly there to hide the heavy anxiety I could tell she was feeling deep down.

"Hey, don't worry about them," I told her as an attempt to cheer her up. "There's still plenty of adults around here who might support us."

She sighed, hesitating a moment before lifting her eyes and meeting mine. "Yeah, you're right..." she murmured, the orange on the tip of her tail dipping towards the earth below along with her mood. "It's just that I expected a slightly better response than that. I mean, 'little jobs'? Seriously? If my pops actually knew about half of the dangerous stuff we did for our Society work, he'd probably ground me from exploring just out of sheer worry."

"Yeah, I hear you... But hey, if they don't want to acknowledge our skills, then we'll just find someone who does. There's bound to be someone who recognizes what we can do around here." I gestured a hand toward the cafe and recovered a grin. "They can't all be blind, right?"

Uplifted again, she nodded and smiled brightly. Her ears twitched with exposed gratification.

"Come on! Let's go ask around some more!"

It didn't work. Not in the cafe; not anywhere else.

Leah and I hadn't gotten much excersize from our diplomatics, but the failure that it brought left us just about exhausted of the will to continue. We sat side-by-side on a bench in the square: Leah was grooming her tail to give her mind some distraction, while I simply stared at the sky and occupied my eyes by riding the clouds.

I was fairly certain I now understood what Leah had meant that day when she'd confessed her envy for the clouds in the sky. The need to be free was, of course, at the root of her struggle—our struggle. But acquiring that freedom would come with adversity, and failure, and would make us look like fools.

We were the only ones who knew—who understood—why I had to leave. And because of that, we were labeled insane.

My previous conception that this couldn't get much worse was now telling me to hold its drink. In blunt terms, the results gotten from the petition pretty much made the conclusion to the Revelation Mountain debacle yesterday look like a gold mine. Everybody we asked so far had shut us down with pious venting of the dangers of the outside world. I detected an unmistakable bias pitted against the thought of us visiting urban regions in particular, which I couldn't exactly deny since our initial destination was supposed to be Lively Town.

The worst part was that by the time we had gotten to asking most of the village adults, they had already read the newspaper that was distributed. This gave them a prime excuse involving the "turned to stone" report, and they more often than not would make sure to mention it in order to push their argument. I found it ironic how one moment some will speculate its authenticity, but then spin around and treat the article as damn-near indisputable scripture for the sake of convenience. It thoroughly pissed me off, but I knew that calling out any form of ignorance would only lessen our chances of gaining support. It was a perfect storm of disaster.

Leah and I did get a lot of recognition for our work as Team Prism, but that hardly mattered when our true objective was either laughed or gawked at in the same breath. All who we had left to ask was the schoolteachers, who I already knew would be a waste of time to trouble with our ideas.

I thought for a moment longer. Then again, Simipour might've been one to look on the adventitious side of things. The only problem was that he also had a level head, meaning that it wasn't plausible that he'd condone two minors out alone in the wild. Still, there remained a slight bit of hope with asking him. What else was there?

I voiced this to Leah, who shook the clouds out of her thoughts and considered it, albeit with a spirit that had been dampened by the failures prior. "Sure thing, I guess we can give it a shot. I'll go see what there is at the school, while you rould up our classmates and ask them about it."

"Our classmates?" I squinted. "Why would your pops or Nuzleaf listen to their opinions?"

She shot me a deflated gaze. "What else do we have?"

Hearing this brought out another condoned sigh, something I felt like I had heard or breathed myself too many times in a single day. This was simply not turning out the way either of us had hoped it would. It was hardly even noon and I just wanted to lay down and bury my head under a pillow.

"I guess," I said with a suppressed yawn. "I think Simipour is in his office today doing paperwork, so I guess we'll be splitting up."

Leah got off the bench we were sitting on and began to head down to the school. I hopped off the bench a moment later, stretched my limbs, and began walking toward the hill with the tree. I thought I had seen Goomy and Deerling over there earlier, so I figured this would be the best place to check since I hadn't seen them while Leah and I were unsuccessfully petitioning the town.

The walk there was nothing short of serene. I paused more than once to observe the scenery; this path made me want to forget about all of the issues I was dealing with. The sun wasn't at its peak quite yet, and a gentle breeze coursing through the woods would occasionally trickle past my slim frame. The atmosphere whispered its abundant amity to me through all five senses, cleansing them of the disquietude that clogged my brain. The leaves stood a mixture of gold and green, and danced at a wavelength orchestrated by the wind.

I realized how much nicer it was to be out here where the light bustle of the village center couldn't pose a distraction. I almost hoped that I wouldn't find anyone at the hill, just so I could enjoy all of this in a minute of silence overlooking the village. It might be the last time I get to see it, right?

...And just like that, the weight was back.

My arrival at the hill was anticipated by the figure standing at the top. She didn't even have to look behind her to notice my presence. But I already knew that much about her.

"Hello Sage," Espurr casually greeted without turning around. Her voice carried a pitch of cheer that I had come to expect in recent days talking with her as our friendship had grown, but also an undertone of regularity that sent a pang through my chest. So calm—she had no idea what I was about to confide in her.

"Hi," I said, maintaining a steady voice for the time being. "What are you doing up here?"

She reserved a moment to breathe in some of the the vanilla air that surrounded us, and then turned around to look at me with her trademark pastoral gaze.

"I'm taking in the view. The weather is wonderful this morning."

I walked up and stood beside her. "Yeah, it sure is."

I felt like an idiot as soon as the words left my mouth. So much for maintaining a steady voice; that was no better than collapsing into the hallowed grass in distress and throwing my curses to the wind. I could literally hear the disturbed undertone that dripped from my vocal cords with each syllable, despite my meager attempt to not be this obvious. The fact that the mentally-proficient psychic-type next to me picked up on it came as no surprise. She knew me well enough, perhaps as well as I knew myself.

"What's the matter?" she asked, turning her head and tilting it slightly in concern. "You're clearly troubled by something." Her brow furrowed and her head tilted a degree further. "Aren't you usually off exploring by now?"

"Uh, well..."

I hit a brick wall. The question I had asked probably two dozen times today to clueless villagers caught in my throat and mutinied my demands for its passage.

I knew I'd probably face some emotional adversity by telling my friends what my plans were, but what was this? The fact that I decided to leave in the first place should be proof that I prioritize doing what is necessary above doing what was favorable to an emotional influence. Just say it man! 'I'm leaving. Will you support me?'

I then realized how incomprehensibly stupid that would sound. With the adults it was different, because even though I valued their hospitality, they did not have the comradery that I felt with Espurr. I honestly felt a little flustered by this line of thinking. It was true that Espurr had become a dear friend to me, one that I could customarily depend on. I knew this well, but had we really grown this close?

If so, was I making a mistake?

Reminiscing over the events of the past couple of days only doubled down on my self-doubt. What friend was I? Agreeing to leave with my partner without a moment's thought, but struggling to even tell Espurr that I was even leaving in the first place. Where was the consideration? The dependability—

"Sage!"

I shook my head wearily, and realized the awkward pause I had accidentally established between us. Espurr wore double the concern of before, obviously wondering why I had spaced out like I was a mental patient.

"Are you okay? What's the matter?"

At least she didn't take the liberty of reading through all of that in my mind. I probably would've been able to notice her doing it anyway (she had done it enough times to tease me that I had picked up on it) but I nonetheless found relief in her unenlightened response. Still, the emphasis on her gaze clarified that she could detect the discomfort that had been raging through my head all day.

Another sigh I afforded to this young day. This one was perhaps a bit better-suited for how I felt now that my emotions concerning the pressing agenda had been flipped on their head. But enough time had been wasted; she needed an answer. Wasn't I the one who approached her?

So I said it.

"What... what would you think if I were to leave the village?"

Her eyes lit up with vague understanding of the individual words but blunt dismay at the whole question. "Leave the village? For what purpose?"

That probably wasn't the best way to go about this. I should have just explained this and gotten it over with, right? With that said, why was this so hard? Why?

Even with Nuzleaf, I expressed my plans as if I was bringing up the topic of the weather. And with Leah, it was sweet and simple, albeit a bit more troublesome to get out. The kind of hesitation that was strangling me now was defying my typical nature, and I couldn't explain it. I forced myself to settle with a dodgy answer, praying it would suffice. The way I jumbled it up made even this small prayer hit a wall.

"Uh, well... j-just theoretically speaking, do you think that I'd be able to survive out there? I-In the wild I mean. If I were to leave and go someplace else like, um... maybe Lively Town?" I blinked as innocently as I could. "—Just an example, of course."

She looked at me with her eyes faintly narrowed, her gaze transitioning to confusion again. In a consistently passive voice, she spoke. "You avoided the question."

I looked at her, and she looked at me back. My instinctive strategy to gain the upper hand in this confession by mumbling and bumbling my way through was was crumbling under the pressure of her raw intelligence, as it probably should've. It was no use. Continuing to beat around the bush wasn't going to do anything except continue to make me look like an artless prick. I would have no more.

Deep breath.

"Espurr... I'm leaving the village. It-It's the Beeheyem. They're after me for some reason—I know they are—and..."

The comprehension and concern in her gaze simultaneously returned, meshing together undividedly. She paused like this for a moment, before abrupt realization blanketed these reactive emotions with a more potent influence.

"What?" Espurr queried. Her voice now voided itself of her typical indifference, and was shaded with more colors of emotion than what she usually preferred to exhibit. "...Is this because of what happened to me in the meadow?"

I looked at the right side of her forehead, and noticed the cut was still mostly visible. It didn't look like it would scar or anything permanent like that, but it was definitely no measly paper cut. In a fit of concern and perhaps a bit of courage as well, I gently pressed a vine to her soft forehead where the small wound was, drawing from her the smallest of gasps.

I found myself unable to answer her question. "Look," I began solemnly, retracting the tendril and staring off at the distant view of the village to avoid meeting her eyes. "Something's... wrong here... w-with those Beeheym, I mean. There's a deeper reason they attacked me, and I think it has everything to do with why I'm a Snivy and have no memories. I just... I just can't get anyone here involved in that kind of thing, okay? I just can't!"

She was silent for a moment, touching a hand to the extended tuft of hair on her forehead that housed the dried wound, her cheeks sporting a mild shade of pink that was faintly visible under her fur. After a moment that passed too soon, she summoned her analytic personality to the surface and her face became focused again.

She hummed in stark consideration and lowered her chin a few degrees. "I suppose that makes sense. But you avoided my question again."

"I-I just don't want anyone to get hurt," I whispered. It was now an effort to keep tears from forming at the corners of my eyes. "I know y-you can handle yourself just fine, but this could end up bigger than either of us. And what about the others? What if something happens to an innocent villager who's just doing his daily work out in the woods?"

It would be her who sighed this time. Struggling to find her words, she glanced up at me with eyes that burned right through to my soul. "I can't say I know much about the affair you have with the Beeheyem besides what we witnessed at the meadow, but I do know that it's unfair to blame yourself for their actions."

"Is it?" I challenged. "How could I not blame myself if something bad were to happen to someone, knowing that I could have left and prevented it? We know that the Beeheyem are after me, and we know that they have dangerous capabilities and motives, most of which we probably don't even know about yet."

I stared straight at her now, determined sorrow backing my features in what was meant to be a declaration of finality. The dam behind my eyes was so close to bursting—there were already cracks at the seam. "Yes, Espurr. This is exactly because of what happened to you."

She was pleading now; another shade of emotion had been added to her voice. "...But where can you go? This is the only place you know, this is your home—"

"This isn't my home!"

Perhaps shouting it was a bit unnecessary. Unfortunately, at the time, I really didn't have a mind to care, or even really notice. Everything was crumbling around me; first the hope that I'd get to leave with my morals in balance, and then the determination to even go through with it at all. The pressure of everything: the Beeheyem, the lost memories, the immutable foreignness of this world in spite of any artificial familiarity I conjured up. It was all fake, just some hogwash conjured up simply to maintain my sanity.

Everything that I had procrastinated for the sake of making my own accommodation rushed at me all at once, the psychological impact enough to stun the hierarchy of my spirit. All I could do was continue talking, continue venting. To my friend, another walking example of someone dragged into something that shouldn't have been. Pain that should have been mine, however minuscule, inflicted in the wrong direction. I hated it all, hated this place and hated the answers that it refused to give me.

"This isn't... isn't right! I'm being targeted by something and... and I'm not supposed to be here!" I held my head in my hands. "None of this is right!"

"Sage, it's alr-"

"No it isn't! Espurr, I don't know anything about anything!" I was almost hyperventilating now; the tangent would not end. All of my negativity was here, out in the open, and it held no bars. "I don't know why I'm here! I don't know where 'here' even is! I... I don't even know who I am!"

I was finished with it all. Whatever this was... some kind of test, some kind of redaction of my spirit; it had been grinding my morale to dust, and was now forcing me to make a decision that I didn't want to make. Espurr could only watch as I broke down in front of her, unable to ignore the bigger picture any longer and maintain my integrity. It was the bigger picture that fate would not allow me to see for reasons that fate would not allow me to know. It continued in an endless cycle of ignorance, of knowledge infinitely withheld. Where was there room to reminisce?

There was no capability to feel anything for a past that simply refuses to exist; no room for learning from it, or holding onto what matters. Could I even call these Pokemon my friends, when the very fact that they are Pokemon should prevent me from knowing them in the first place? Could they even call me their friend, when all I was doing for them is leading them toward an inclining climax of crossed worlds? Could I stay here and say that I was doing the right thing with this kind of force suspended over my brief memorable past? Was it morally correct for the breath that exited my lungs during this traumatic moment to even undergo the chemical processes necessary to keep me alive, knowing that it could potentially mean that someone close to me might not be able to claim the same necessity as a direct result? Even now, after those who I called friends were hurt by my presence, was there really repentance to be found?

More questions piled up. No answers were present to meet them. It was a cycle manufactured for my destruction, and it would never end.

I couldn't confront the Beeheyem and ask them what their motives were. I knew this already, and it wasn't going to change. Doing so could result in a number of horrific outcomes, none of which would satisfy this cruel spectrum of withheld knowledge. I wasn't going to sacrifice myself to them for the village either, because I simply didn't know who to completely trust. I hated it so much, hated that my selfishness could determine me to put them in danger like that, but it was undeniable. With all things considered, I truly could not trust anyone. How could I, when the only thing in this world that I for-sure knew was that someone or something was keeping information from me? Using it against me? Using me?

How could I really trust Nuzleaf, or Carracosta, or the Beeheyem, or even Espurr, when they had fallen right into my lap? The only exception I could begin to make was Leah, who it had seemed like fate had all but tried to keep us apart. But even with her, what could I do to favor her without compromising myself to the cruelty of possibility? No, making decisions based off of trust would have to be through myself, untouched by anyone's influence. Right? Right?

I hated it, and I hated myself for it. I hated it all, and yet I didn't even know what I was supposed to hate. Which only made me hate it more. It swirled inside of me, the tempest of my sanity, and it embodied the endless cycle that I realized I might never break free of.

"I don't know anything, except that I'm a danger to everyone," I choked out, my thoughts summed up in eleven words. "I can't... I can't do this, I just—"

I believe I had described Espurr as a pillow once. It was that time she hugged me after I fell into the river at the school, when I was still mildly wet from the unfortunate plunge. This time it was only my eyes that were moist as her softness captivated my senses. Her embrace was designed to evaporate the plaguing negativity, and I'd have been lying to say it wasn't crafted with pristine quality toward its intended profession. I returned it as best I could, hoping it would stifle some of the cannons firing in my chest.

"I know you're probably confused and upset right now," she breathed in the softest tone possible. "I can't even begin to imagine how you feel considering the circumstances of what's happened to you."

I didn't answer, so she continued.

"—And I know you don't know much of anything about what's happened, but... I'll be there for you. Everyone will. You can trust us, Sage. And no matter what you decide to do about the Beeheyem, you'll have the support of everyone behind you."

The words stabbed me like a bittersweet knife. It was exactly what I needed to hear, and yet I knew it wouldn't be smart to agree. I should satisfy the instinct of self-sustenance and leave without a word. That way, I could seperate myself from those who logic claims I can't trust, and those innocent will be spared of involvement in depredation that spans bigger destinies than anyone can imagine.

But... I couldn't do that. Or I could, but I refused to. I refused to take the more intelligent path. Claiming it was some moral obligation was just a facade. I was up here, pouring my troubles out to Espurr like two old friends would do.

Because despite everything, I did trust her. With everything I had.

I did trust my classmates, and I did trust Leah, and Nuzleaf, and every other villager. Because I knew, in my heart, that they were good Pokemon.

That was exactly why it hurt so much to do this.

And thus the cycle continued, eternally grinding against my soul.

My ultimatum was midnight. That was all I'd settle for. Leah had no complaints, and the gambit was settled once and for all.

With a heavy heart, I whispered an inaudible apology to Nuzleaf, snoring in the other room. I thanked him for everything, from taking me into his home to risking his neck for the sake of aiding with my situation. The thought that I would likely never get to repay him made me begin to tear up, so I made haste putting distance between myself and home.

Home. This was my home, was it not? I had fervently denied it, but now that I stood on the outside looking in, it was undeniable. Out here in the pitch blackness of a new moon, the gravity of what I was leaving behind made itself present.

And I refused to look at its image. Because now was not the time for regret. I would not be influenced to turn around, not now. I just had to move.

I barely heard the whispering to my left, and I jumped. I already knew who it was, but my nerves had been shot all day, a direct result of the pounding stress. From the lack of success in the morning to the collapse on the hill to spending the rest of the day preparing to compromise with the intangible force that I pointlessly hated. Not a wink of sleep was stolen, sleep that I would probably need in the coming hours where more stress, and with increased potency, was guaranteed to follow. All I could do was pray that my partner, who was currently whispering her own silent goodbyes to her pops, had managed to find slumber. And if not, then I hoped she at least found peace in this. Peace that was impossible for me to find in any of the decisions I could have made. Thus is the malicious nature of sacrifice.

"Ready to go?" she asked, unable to mask her voice breaking with sorrow.

I barely heard her, but I managed a nod. After a couple seconds of gathering together the shard of a heavy heart, I found my voice. "Yeah, I'm ready. Got the bag? The money?"

Leah nodded, slinging the pack we had both put together over her shoulder and patting the sling twice with her paw.

"Alright," I said, shoving aside my fragmented emotions and relying on pure wit to get me through the upcoming stretch. We were going to go to Lively Town. Until then, we'd need to escape the village, and survive a good ways through the Water Continent's jagged country. We were going to go much farther out that either of us had ever gone in our lives. It was only supposed to be a couple day's journey if done right, but that was easier said than done.

Just one step at a time, Sage. Use your head and your wits and get through this.

We reached the fork in the road, and we both simultaneously halted. We turned to face each other, both of us with something lying on the bridge of our tongues. One brief look into each other's eyes confirmed that we both were about to stop the other for the same reason.

"Just one last time," Leah whispered.

"Yeah..." I answered. "One last time."

The southbound walk through the edge of the woods posed no issue despite the concrete lack of light. Leah and I had traversed this simple dirt path so many times now that we both could have walked it backwards with our eyes closed. Just another familiarity that I was about to willingly toss to the wind. Another valuable chip of my being that I would shove aside for the sake of survival, so that it could haunt me later instead of now. Little things like this were so minuscule, and yet they had a tendency to add up and weigh you down wholeheartedly, often when least convenient.

Oh well, nothing was to be done with it. I wasn't turning back now. Definitely not turning back now.

We approached the hill. We began walking up the hill. We'd done it before; it was all habitual, all mutual expectation. The walk was so enamoring, and I wasn't sure whether I should feel respectfully proud or respectfully upset. Sticking with my intended mentality for this particular night, I reserved myself to simply feel nothing at all.

The view would come to change that. There was nothing new to it, no sudden realization or change of perspective to be honed. It was the same old view of everything that I had ever known. Everything that we had ever known. No uplifting change in the three-dimensional canvas made itself known. The only difference this time was the pain it brought.

Everything I felt bubbling inside me surfaced for the second time today, and I took a long, deep breath. I would not cry, not again and not here. I would not...

I could hear Leah quietly sobbing to my right. Everything was coming to her at once, and she was experiencing pain that perhaps I couldn't comprehend. She had been here for far longer.

Another deep breath.

I stared out into the night, and I remembered it all.

Another deep breath.

Espurr comforting me in this exact patch of grass hours before.

Another breath.

Nuzleaf taking me in without a second thought, and showing me the meaning of family in situation designed to prevent such a relation.

Inhale.

My other classmates, and the unit that we were. Deerling and her determination to do the right thing. Goomy and his youth and potential. Pancham and Shelmet and their recklessness.

Exhale.

It all looped around to the Fennekin crying silently next to me. The one I trusted the most. The one who would feel the same pain of separation as the others, but from my side of the split rather than theirs.

With this realization suddenly came immeasurable gratefulness that I would not have to be alone. On this very hill, on a night similar to this one, this was what we had pledged. We had promised to never leave each other alone, and embedded our words into the mysterious harmony scarves that we now shared. I found it fitting that, again on this hill, we would be cutting our final ties from everything we knew for the sake of keeping this promise.

A vine rested on her shoulder, working to comfort the both of us equally, and every emotional burden that had built up to this point finally overtook the dam holding it back. The stress, the pain - it would all be left here. With each of our tears carried every misgiving we had, shared or personal. They would stain the grass, and evaporate under the raging sun in the distant morning, never to be felt again under the blinding heat of the future.