A/N:

And now we head into Part Two of the story. Hope you enjoy!

Also, as usual, special thanks to Orthros for the proof reading services. It's always a huge help.

If you like this story, please consider checking out my Explorers of Sky fic, Into Darkness.

"…" - Spoken dialogue

Italics - Michael's thoughts

'Italics' - Telepathic dialogue

/\/\/\ - Lemon Scene


"Safeguarding the rights of others is the most noble and beautiful end of a human being."

-Khalil Gibran


Chapter 32 - The Aftermath

Three Years Later

The gunshot echoed across the range, but aside from that, not the sound that he wanted to hear. The metal target remained stationary, and dirt had been kicked up above and to the right. Michael took one more shot, and the bullet landed in about the same area. "Nice shot."

"Shut up." He turned the dial on his scope: one click down, two to the left. Then, putting his crosshairs on the target once more, he squeezed the trigger. This time, the plink could be heard, and the target moved slightly.

"About time. It's only two hundred yards," Alex said.

"Never had to zero my own scope in," Michael replied. That had always been done for them; they could trust that the weapon they were given would shoot almost exactly where they put the crosshairs. But now, on his own personal weapon, he didn't have such a luxury. In his time off, he had purchased several firearms, including the one he was testing out today: an M1A Socom with a 4x scope on it, though he was considering changing that part.

"Well then guess this is as good a time as any to learn." Alex reached over into his own range bag and pulled out a handgun case. "Brought my own new one to test out."

"Nice. What did you get?"

"Check it out." Alex flipped the latches up, then pulled it open. Inside was a Ruger Redhawk: a large, eight shot .357 revolver with a four inch barrel. "MSRP is over a thousand, but the place was closing up shop. Sold it for a little over six hundred."

"That was a good find. I just about paid full price for this thing." Alex opened a new case of .357 ammunition and went about loading the revolver before taking aim at the much closer target they had set up specifically for handguns - this one being a paper silhouette of a person. The gun went off, and a hole appeared on his shoulder. Alex cocked the hammer, taking more careful aim. The second shot sounded, and this time, the hole appeared on the other side, this time not even being on the target at all. "Nice shot," Michael said, echoing his friend's own words.

"Whatever. If you're so good with these, why don't you show me how it's done?" Michael glanced at the revolver, then shook his head.

"I think I'll pass."

"Huh. Alright then." He shot the rest of the cylinder, managing to land a few in the general chest area. "Think it's drifting a little to the right with this ammo," he eventually concluded, adjusting the small back sights ever-so-slightly. "So, you fully moved in yet?"

"Just about. We're unpacking the last boxes now. You?"

"Yep, we're in. Dad just went and paid a company."

"Gotcha. What about Thomas? Didn't hear anything about his new living plans."

"I think he actually stayed back at base, just like Samuel," Alex said. "I know he wanted to keep at it. He's hoping to reach general one day. Living there only makes sense."

"Right."

Their mandatory four tours had come to an end, and with it, everything Douglas had ever built. The politicians that had been willing to betray their countries had been killed within a matter of days, including a couple within Johto's own boundaries. His assets had been seized and destroyed, and just like that, the country had moved on. Most of the Twenty-Fifth had as well.

With their service behind them, they had gone their separate ways. Of course, they were still keeping in touch quite frequently, and hopefully they would continue to do so in the future. But only time could tell what would happen. One thing was for certain, though: he would need to search for another form of employment. It wouldn't be hard - just about whole country knew who he was after the events years ago. Many employers would be delighted to have a name like his working under them. He did, in fact, remember enough of his education to likely do well in a workplace environment of his field. Maybe Silph would still be hiring. That was one of the places that he had wanted to work at before joining the Reapers, though he still wasn't set on that particular idea. And if that didn't work out, Wesley had told him that the military always had a place for him.

But who said he had to do it now? It had only been about a month since their last tour had come to its close, and he had enough money for him and the girls to live off of for a year or two before things would start getting dire. Granted both financial and employment security, there wasn't any need to rush. If anything, this time had almost been relaxing, which was now kind of a big deal for him.

"I'm going to miss the others," Alex said.

"Not like we're never gonna see them again. Two of 'em are literally right up there," he said, motioning to the mountain range.

"Yeah, and all we have to do is just hike up there, right? Or try and sneak onto a supply helicopter. That should do the trick."

"Well they can come see us whenever they have time off…"

"Yeah, that's true. But seems like Kevin's gone for good, and John just had to go to the other side of the country, didn't he?"

"That's life," Michael said. "Seems like people can just leave like that."

"Guess so. At least we got phones."

Once they had concluded their target practice, the two of them began to pack their bags into their respective trucks. He'd probably need to make another few adjustments to his new rifle, but he was satisfied with it for the time being.

"Welp," Alex said, shutting the passenger door, "guess I'll be seeing ya next Saturday. You take care. Tell the others I said hi."

"Sure thing." Michael got into his truck, then started up the engine. But before he could drive away, Alex rolled down his passenger window, to which Michael followed suit.

"How long are you going to do this?" Alex asked.

"What?"

"Putting it off." Michael rolled his eyes.

"We're not discussing this again. I hear enough of it at home."

"It needs to be discussed. And you know we're right."

"Drop it Alex."

"Fine," his friend relented. "Just think about it, alright?"

"Alright…" They each rolled their windows up, and backed out of the range, before taking different turns.

As Michael drove back to his apartment, his mind was occupied. The city was coming into sight from the wooded trail; the very same city that had changed very little over these past few years. Johto altogether hadn't undergone many changes, although participation in the Assembly had dropped massively. For the rest of the world though, the same couldn't be said.

He knew it would happen - he had called it back when he had been imprisoned by Douglas. Radical leftists across the world attributed everything about Stone's actions as due to conservatives. It was somehow the entire right wing's fault for the terrorist uprising that had nearly brought the world to ruin - the actions of a few radical people. Debates across Kalos, Unova, and especially Hoenn, labeled conservatism as an evil that needed to be dealt with. Never mind the fact that it was some of the most right-winged countries in the world that had contributed the most to the fight against Douglas, or the fact that it was Raptor and him that brought everything down on the terrorist's head. They continued to spout their bullshit lies in order to push their false narrative. I hope those regions collapse, he concluded as he entered into some suburbs. Nuking them had not been the proper response, but if they continued down this path, then he would shed no tears for the failure of those countries.

Over a few blocks down was where the bitter reality had started. He had gone there once since then, but found that Ethan's house had been demolished and replaced with another. Michael hadn't heard anything from his mother all this time, either. Not like he cared anyways. He was perfectly content with the girls; that was all he needed in terms of family. Them and his comrades.

In a way, it was kind of sad that they had, for the most part, gone their separate ways. John had bought a nice little beach house over in Olivine and settled down with his new wife, deciding to pursue a career in the secret service for the governor. Such a job would keep him home much more often than anything the Reapers would do. Kevin moved back to Sinnoh, and both Thomas and Samuel had stayed back at base to further their own military careers. Michael still wasn't sure what he would do, and there were definitely many options.

Eventually he pulled into the parking lot for the apartments, turning his car off and slinging his range bag over his shoulders. Once he had grabbed his rifle, he made his way towards their unit. Being around nine in the morning, it was likely that everyone was up. He nearly entered the key into the door before it opened. Alaina was there, smiling triumphantly once again. "You just about had it that time," she said.

"It's almost like you can sense me coming… oh wait…"

"Hey, to be fair, I had to finish pouring the batter before I could come," she laughed, before hugging him gently. "Ver's out flying. Just left ten minutes ago."

"That's fine. She'll just be late for breakfast."

"How was your trip to the range? Did your new gun shoot well?" she asked.

"It was okay. Three inch groups at two hundred. Still need to work some stuff out with it, but it'd definitely do the job if I needed it to."

"Well that's good. I would hope that it would for fifteen hundred dollars."

"Yeah, well don't worry. I won't be buying any more for awhile." He entered into the apartment, carrying his range equipment and rifle to the bedroom in the back. Once he'd opened the closet, he carefully set them in their designated places. But before shutting the door back, he stopped and looked at his formal uniform. It was now decorated with miscellaneous different pins and badges. His ranking was now displayed on his shoulder; for his service, he had been promoted to captain. But a small pin - right beside the emblem of the Reapers - signified something far more valuable. A small golden star with a silver circle etched into the middle of it - the Star of Valor. He had been awarded it for his actions in taking Douglas down; an award of which most recipients were given posthumously. John had similarly received one for his leadership when the base had been under attack. It was the highest military honor available. But medals weren't able to bring back what had been lost, nor were they able to help him sleep at night.

He shut the door before heading back into the dining room. Alaina and the others were setting up the table, with everyone except for Veronica present. Charlotte looked like she wanted nothing more than to go back to bed, her eyes being half shut. "Didn't sleep?" Michael asked.

"Not very well," Charlotte murmured.

"And whose fault was that?" Layla asked. "Considering you stayed up on Netflix with a tub of ice cream…"

"Shut up," the braixen said. While they were speaking, Michael poured himself a cup of coffee, preparing to take a seat on the couch in the living room. But before he could do so, Alaina grabbed his arm.

"No, you're sitting with us this time," she said quietly. He said nothing, but followed the latias as she pulled him towards the others. He took his seat, but didn't bother to fix a plate. While everyone began to eat, he simply stared at the television, watching the news.

The country had come to expect this by now. Protests had sprung up at the Capitol, with people chanting for all sorts of reformations. They'd figured that this had been enough, and ever since Douglas had been killed, they retaliated back in full force. Every couple of days one of these demonstrations would take place, with everything from burning effigies of the president - especially after his reelection - to throwing miscellaneous projectiles at the police. Some were there for the legal recognition of pokémon and human relationships, while others were there for all sorts of sexual minority causes. But as tolerant, and as enlightened as they claimed to be, they sure did act pretty hateful.

Michael just didn't understand. What rights did these people not have? It wasn't illegal to engage in any sort of consensual relationship in the region. The way these people were making it sound, you'd think the government was personally hunting them down and killing them. While the Assembly had been doing some of that in the past, the vast majority of the population was strongly against that group of people, and felt that both their methods and Stone's were nothing short of evil. But he'd seen it all before in Kalos: no matter what laws were passed, they would always find something to bitch about. The moderates would become the new enemy as these people would grow more and more radical - these unproductive, obnoxious people. There was no making them happy.

"What do you think Michael?" Alaina asked. He looked over at her, his expression blank. "You… weren't listening, were you?"

"We were wondering if it might be a good idea to take up battling as a career," Layla said. "After Cianwood, everyone knows us, and you can't deny that we've gotten pretty good at it. I mean, we defeated one of the most elite trainers in the region."

"That's an idea," Michael replied.

"And we all enjoy it too," the lucario continued.

"True. But I can't help but feel that it would be breaking my word to Alaina's parents," Michael said. "I promised them that I wouldn't use her like that."

"But if I want to do it, then that's that," the latias said. "There are lots of legendaries out there that battle - Raiden for example. And it's not like we're being forced to, or used in any way. I thought it was a lot of fun."

"It was," Charlotte said. "So what do you say?"

"I… don't know," Michael said. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. Battling isn't exactly a stable source of income, no matter how good you are."

"Doesn't need to be 'stable' at all," Layla said with a shrug. "Given our win rate, we could still knock down more than any job in a lab coat could get you. Not to mention we'd get to travel again."

"I'll think about it," he stated.

"Which is another way of saying don't count on it," the lucario murmured.

"Hush," Alaina said. "Anyways, how was Alex?"

"Good," Michael answered. "Wanted for me to tell y'all he said hey."

"How's the new job coming along for him?" the latias continued.

"He's loving it. Said he kinda misses his time in the force, though."

"How could he miss all that?" Charlotte asked. "All that violence and death. What kind of a person would prefer that lifestyle?" Michael shrugged.

"Samuel and Thomas, for starters. And it's not about that. No one signs up to watch their friends die, or to be shot at. We wanted to make the world a safer place, and we did."

"Thomas is staying back too?" the braixen asked. "But it's all done… I mean, Samuel I can get, with that group he's training or whatever, but Thomas?"

"There's still a ton of shit he could do up there. Hell, he could go down Hawkins' path and lead a squad himself if he wanted to. They're always in need of people, especially Reapers." As for him and the others, though, four years had been enough.

Truth be told, though, he wasn't so sure about having made the world a safer place, or if such a proposition was even a possibility anymore. A nuclear disaster had narrowly been avoided, and countless smaller uprisings had been quelled within the confines of the regions ever since Stone's death. But what both Hoenn and Kalos had done was nothing short of despicable. Both regions had all but completely confiscated firearms from their citizens. Rather than observe the very cause of the revolutions - their own oppressive policies - they further restricted the population. At this point, he didn't even care. He hoped every decent person moved out of those two regions and left the degenerates behind to rot away.

Kanto was a different story. The country seemed to be unable to reach a conclusion as to what to do politically for the last few years. With thousands of their own killed in all these conflicts, and with all hopes of avoiding another similar war within their own boundaries, everyone wanted to tread lightly, leading to several stalemates on important issues. Nobody wanted to be the instigator to set off another chain of violent events. Politicians became more reasonable, much quieter, and much more level-headed as a result.

Whatever happened there wasn't their main concern. No, Johto's priority was within its own borders now. Careful monitoring of the known members of the Assembly was of utmost importance, as well as dealing with the innumerable protests that were taking place throughout Goldenrod. Michael wasn't exactly rooting for their success, either. After what had happened to leftists as a result of Douglas' purges, they had struck back with a vengeance. Never mind the fact that this was the very government that had fought to protect them all around the world. There would be no making them happy.

And it was somewhat sad. Among the large amount of causes that they supported - most of which Michael detested - he hoped that maybe the law might be amended to recognize pokémon and human marriages. But that was just a single step in what these people wanted to accomplish. They would never be satisfied until they had created another socialist state. They couldn't let that happen. As much hatred as the Assembly held, they had been right about that. The generalization did not apply to rational people, but those individuals standing outside the Capitol right now… they were anything but decent. Screaming at police, all those burning effigies, vandalizing public property - all in an effort to 'make their point known.' They wouldn't stand for any of this. It had to be their way or no way at all.

While they were cleaning up, Ver entered the apartment, slightly winded from her flight. "Dammit, I missed breakfast?" she asked.

"In the microwave," Alaina chimed as she placed the dishes in the cabinet.

"Awesome. I'm starving," the flygon said. Michael headed to the couch, where he flipped open his laptop, going about checking his email. As he did so, Elise hopped up beside him, stretching out and laying her head into his lap, effectively preventing him from being able to get much done.

"You couldn't possibly be any more in the way, could you?"

"Mmm, nope," she said with a smile. He rubbed along her neck while attempting to scroll through the list of unchecked messages. Mostly spam or advertisements; nothing interesting aside from some ads from a few gun sites he regularly visited. As he signed out, the homepage appeared once again, showing a picture of Lance. Giving a small smile, the veteran trainer was waving off to the side. But what was more interesting was the title of the article. No freaking way… "Lance retired?!" Elise asked.

"It… seems like it…" After over thirty years of holding the position, the summary stated, the former champion had felt that it was time for him to move on, opening the path for a younger trainer to take his place. For a moment, the regret had resurfaced - the fact that now, he and the girls would never get to accomplish what they had wanted to during their campaigning days. It had always been their goal to face off against him, but now that was an impossibility.

"So then there is need for a new champion," Layla said. "Michael… this could be our shot!"

"Layla…" He rolled his eyes.

"You know just as well as the rest of us that those kids that come won't be nearly what he was! We'd mop the floor with them if you'd just let us!" Before long, a large tournament would be held in order to seek a new bi-regional champion. Trainers from all across both Kanto and Johto would compete for the position, and countless battles would be waged to determine the suitable replacement. Members of the elite four and the gym circuit would also be likely to show up; it was truly a once in a lifetime event. And it would start soon.

"What do we have to lose?" Ver asked. "I mean hell, worst case scenario is that we don't win, come back, and you'll be free to work in a lab if that's what you want. But this is our chance to get back in - to really do it this time!" The others agreed, and seeing himself outnumbered in the matter at hand, Michael finally relented.

"Alright, alright - fine. You all wanna go out there and give it a shot? I'm not gonna hold you back. But our victory last time? That was a local tournament. Leo was good and all, but now we'll be facing a whole bunch of teams just like him. Don't be surprised when we come back."

If he was being honest with himself, part of the idea of getting back into battling did excite Michael. Well, as close to excite as anything could anymore. But another part of him wanted nothing to do with a public life. He wanted to stay back, to avoid the masses as much as he could. But the girls wanted to polar opposite. He simply figured that once they got there, his team could have their fun, relive their fantasy of winning it big, and come home once they were defeated again.

. . . . .

That night, he lay in his bed, mostly fooling around on his phone. He'd already taken something to help him sleep, but it seemed to be doing anything but its intended purpose. Charlotte shuffled beside him, catching his attention. "Not asleep yet?" he asked.

"How could I be when you're just tapping away at that screen?" the braixen asked.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," she said. "Not really tired anyways."

"Ah."

"Hey, if you want," she said, turning around to face him, "we could tire ourselves out." To further express her point, she trailed her hand down his stomach, making her way lower.

"Not tonight."

"Why not?" she asked. "It's been awhile…"

"I just don't feel like it," he replied.

"Fine," she said with a sigh. She cuddled up to his side, laying her head into the crook of his neck. "Don't suppose you want to talk about it? Why you've been like this…"

"Not particularly."

"So then you're just gonna keep me in the dark about it? I'm here for you. We all are. But… you won't say a thing."

"There's nothing to talk about," he said, becoming increasingly agitated.

"Yes there is. I want you, and—."

"I told you," Michael interjected, "I'm not doing it tonight."

"That's not what I meant," Charlotte said. "I want the Michael that I fell in love with…"

"I'm right here… I'm still the same." But despite his words, he knew the truth. Part of him had died back during his first tour. That part… no, those parts… had been buried.

. . . . .

Michael pushed the double doors open, stepping outside into the courtyard. But it looked different from how he'd remembered it. The earth was charred, and the atmosphere devoid of anything natural. But despite the destruction, people were moving up and about. Militants geared for war, each going about their way, with none of them paying him any attention. What the hell is going on? He experimentally walked towards one: a rough looking man in his forties. He seemed to stare straight through Michael, and he only kept walking over towards some similarly uniformed individuals.

"That was Vlad," a voice behind him said. "Never before had I seen someone so devoted to the cause. He taught me so much over the years - he had become both a mentor and a friend to me. He died in the blast." Michael turned around, finding the source. Douglas was standing there. Michael balled his fists, readying himself like he had years ago. "Calm down. I'm not here to fight. That's already been done."

"How the fuck… I killed you!"

"That you did. You killed them all," the terrorist said, motioning towards the countless men before them. "See that man over there? His face ring a bell?" Stone was pointing towards a light blonde-haired man - fairly young looking.

"…Derrick was his name… Derrick Rossler…" The trafficker that had personally had a hand in the Hoenn Massacre, and one of Michael's first kills.

"Yep. Funny thing - you all have the audacity to call us barbarians. We did what needed to be done. But setting a man on fire just because you wanted to? That's some fucked up shit, even for me." The Reaper remained silent. "What? No response? Figured. I wouldn't be proud of that one either, had I sworn to uphold justice."

"Why are you here? How the fuck did you crawl out of hell?"

"I'm always here," Douglas said. "I'm a part of you. And I'm here because it's important for you to understand just what it is that you've done."

"Oh I fully understand what I've done," Michael said.

"No you don't. In fact, you've got absolutely no clue what you've done. All these people before you are on your hands, but they are not the only ones. These just happen to be the ones you directly got killed. That doesn't include those like Raptor, or all the revolutionaries that were purged after you did what you did here."

"That's… not on me… That's not my fault…"

"You set the chain of events in motion," said Douglas. "Man up. Don't try to deny your hand in all this. This is all your doing - aside from these people, every death afterwards is on you. Had I finished… only the right people would have died. But because of you, the left has regained its stronghold. All those conservatives purged, all those babies aborted - that is because of you. That's your legacy."

"Fuck off!" Michael yelled.

"Struck a nerve, did I? But prove me wrong."

"You were going to massacre tens of millions of people! I did right by putting you in the dirt!"

"A small price to pay for what would have been accomplished. But now… it will fall on your all's hands. They are sharpening their weapons, kid. Their education systems already brainwash the youth; their puppets in the press vilify all you stand for. They will fight you with everything they've got. You think you know what fucking war is? You've got no idea. But one day you will find out."

"Then let them come. You may have been the minority in your country, but they've got no chance in ours. We will drive them out."

"No," Douglas said, "you won't. None of you have the will to do what it takes. You will fold, trying to be the 'better men,' all while the left takes over."

"We will never fold," Michael said.

"Maybe not - only if you get the fuck with the program. But despite what you did… I've got faith in you all. The time will come, and you will know what to do." He turned around, and just like that, all the other militants stood still. An eerie silence permeated the smoke-filled air as Michael stared at the terrorist. Stone casually look over his shoulder, flashing a carefree grin. "I'll be seeing you around, Michael." His vision slowly faded, being replaced by the sight of his ceiling.

. . . . .

There was no getting out of it at this point. He'd already encouraged the idea, and the girls weren't about to let him forget that. They all stood around the table as Michael went through the Indigo League's homepage. Among the beautiful pictures of the surrounding scenery, or the ferocious ones of memorable battles that had occurred within, was the bold link that would be clicked on by thousands of trainers. The registration for the tournament.

If they did so happen to win, this would more than suffice for employment. Being the champion of a region was a seven figure job. He disliked the idea of having cameras all around him though, especially given these past few years. But that would just come with a job like this. He filled in the required fields: his full team, name, and valid contact information. "All you gotta do now is hit confirm," said Layla with excitement in her voice.

"I can hardly believe it!" Elise said. "We're gonna take on the league again!"

"But things will be different this time," the flygon reminded her. "They won't be able to do a thing. We're taking that spot." Yeah, if only it was that simple. But he couldn't back out. He clicked the button.

Throughout the rest of the night, everyone seemed to be in high spirits over what was to come. Or rather, the girls were. Michael headed back towards the bedroom, shutting the door behind him as he opened the drawer within the nightstand. Several shot glasses were neatly positioned within, and the bottle was underneath the bed. He poured the liquor into the glass and quickly downed it, only for Alaina to come in right then. "Michael…"

"What? Not like I can get drunk easily anyway."

"That doesn't mean you need to try."

"I'm one drink in. I'm fine."

"Fine?" She was clearly taken back by his choice of wording. "You're anything but fine. This tournament will be the first thing you've really done outside ever since you finished with the Reapers. You don't speak to us about it… Arceus, there's a loaded gun hidden in just about every corner of this house. You call that fine?"

"I think you're exaggerating more than a little bit," he said.

"Really?" The latias snatched his pillow up, revealing the HK45 underneath. "Yeah, seems like it. You're paranoid."

"I'm prepared."

"For what?" she asked. "An army? You need serious help. Why do you keep fighting it? There is absolutely nothing wrong with reaching out. You've said it yourself time and time again - you couldn't have accomplished anything that you had over those tours without the help of countless others. And yet now look at you…"

"Did you come back here just to fuss at me?" he asked. Though she was clearly offended by such a statement, she shook her head.

"No. I came back here because no matter how much you try to isolate yourself, the absolute last thing you need is to be alone. So stop acting like everyone's being a bother when they're just looking out for you."

"I don't need anyone's help," he said as he attempted to pour another glass. However, before he could do so, Alaina telekinetically snatched the bottle away and set it on the dresser behind her.

"Listen to me," she snapped. "The longer you put this off, the more damage you do to yourself. I'm not going to let you sit around and make things worse. That's why I think this little trip will do you well. You need to get out of this house - out and around other people again. What you're doing now is anything but beneficial for you."

"You know what? I don't need someone to tell me what's best for me. You all need to cool it."

"I'm not going to give way on this," Alaina responded. "I will not sit by idly while you destroy yourself. What kind of a mate would I be if I did?"

"I just want you all to get off my back about this bullshit. This conversation is over."

"Whatever. It may be for now, but this matter is far from over. We're all going to the league, we're going to have a good time, and you're going to snap out of whatever this is. Understand?"

"Sure." He rolled his eyes as she turned around. Before he could do anything else though, she grabbed the bottle and shut the door behind her. Really? What the fuck? He reached over and grabbed the pillow, tossing it back over the pistol. Come in here and start raising hell with me… what was that all about?

This silly issue had been one that they had been bringing up for over a year now. Most days he could get by without having to hear it, but once again, one of the girls had deemed it absolutely imperative to start the same exact conversation - begging him to get some sort of therapy. It was actually starting to piss him off. They meant well and all, but he knew his own mind - he didn't need someone else trying to fix it. The Reapers all knew what may come from their service; death of close ones was an unfortunate risk associated with their jobs. Over time, the nightmares would recede. But letting someone that he didn't even know into his head to try and fix a so-called "problem?" That was a load of bullshit. If there even was a problem, then it was something that he could handle.

But he would admit one thing: he probably did need to get out of the house more than what he was doing. Maybe this little campaign of theirs could provide him with some excitement once again. And hell, this would be the closest opportunity they would ever have to triumph over the league. For a team with their skill, there really wasn't a reason not to at least give it a shot - the very ring that sat on top of his dresser was a testimony to that. Really, there wasn't much of a doubt that he had about the girls being able to do this. Whether or not he even wanted what would become of such a victory was another matter entirely. He'd already come close to punching a reporter a time or two. If they won, then that would be something that he would have to tolerate even more.

Eventually he decided to leave the confines of the room, finding everyone else sprawled out throughout the living room as they watched television. It was a documentary on ancient pokémon, mostly consisting of members of the fossil species. "Glad you decided to join the family," Alaina said. He remained silent as he took the one open spot on the couch. "What? No comment?"

"Alaina, are you just determined to start some type of argument today?"

"Oh the argument has already been said - time and time again. But as always, you won't want to hear it, so you'll just tune me out rather than actually consider my point."

"Arceus, I'd appreciate it if you could just not do this for one day."

"And I'd appreciate it if both of you shut up so we could hear," Veronica said, before turning the volume up. But as they fell silent, being drowned out by the noise of the television, the awkward tension remained throughout the room. The very tension that had been present time and time again for three years.