Originally, since Ash had won his Grand Trial and regained the Electrium-Z, Kukui had planned to spend his weekend helping the kid train. He'd been all geared up to do it, too – he wanted to see Ash's style, and maybe even finally get a handle on just how talented he was under all the hyperactivity.

But then Kiawe had showed up and, despite the fact that they'd been at each other's throats only a few days beforehand, Ash was immediately distracted. A new island to explore, new pokemon to see, and ice cream besides? Apparently training just couldn't possibly compete with that.

So Kukui had resigned himself to another boring day at the lab, until he remembered that chances were pretty good at least some of his colleagues would be at work. They were Pokemon Scientists – very few of them had lives to speak of.

He smirked and grabbed yesterday's newspaper on his way out the door.

"Morning, Kukui," Artocarpus was, typically, the first one to greet him as he walked in. "Didn't expect to see you today, after all that whining you did last time you came in on a weekend."

"Oh, leave him alone, Arty," Cassia said, rolling her chair back so she could see him around the desk partition. "None of us like working weekends, and he has a family now."

"I don't have a family," Kukui said. "I have a boarder. But he's spending the weekend at a friend's, so I'm free to get some actual research done."

The third and last member of their team actually present peered over the top of her computer with a raised eyebrow. "Judging from your expression, I don't feel like research is what you have in mind."

"Well… I'll get to it," he said defensively, and then grinned and flourished the newspaper. "But first, did anyone happen to see yesterday's news, by any chance?"

"Oh, now it makes sense," Acacia said with a soft chuckle. "Kukui, did you really come into work just so you can brag?"

"It's not bragging," he said. "I simply think, as a research team dedicated to understanding pokemon battle, my colleagues should be fully apprised of the fact that my newest student defeated the Totem Pokemon of Melemele Island with a pikachu and only recently caught rowlet. And then directed said Totem Pokemon to single-handedly solve the Rattata Crisis –"

"He's right; it's not bragging," Artocarpus deadpanned. "He came in to gloat."

Kukui's grin only broadened as he moved over to slap the newspaper down on Artocarpus's desk. "And just yesterday, he won his Grand Trial without losing a single pokemon to Hala's two. Despite a Belly Drum-powered All Out Pummelling Z-move, and using a normal-type Z-move himself with that same pikachu."

"Kukui," Acacia said, "If this boarder of yours isn't family, you don't get the right to play the proud papa. It's obnoxious."

"How about the smug teacher?" he asked playfully. "He learned that Z-move from me, after all."

Cassia laughed while the other two rolled their eyes. "Well, then he has my congratulations. You just get told to be quiet."

"After you tell us about the Grand Trial," Acacia corrected. "Keeping the bragging to a minimum, if you please. So your boarder used a pikachu. I'm going to guess that the Kahuna used… Riolu?"

"Crabrawler and Hariyama, actually," he said, smile fading slightly at the memory.

All three of them did a double-take, their attention caught. "Hariyama?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I was a little surprised myself. I would've called it overkill if Ash hadn't stepped up to the challenge," he said, but then shrugged. "But he's no rookie. He's trained over two-dozen pokemon and been in a handful of leagues. It still seems a little extreme against a kid with a rowlet, but he won, so there you are."

"So did he just use the pikachu?" asked Artocarpus.

"No, he started with Rowlet," he corrected. "It went to sleep after the battle though, so he switched to Pikachu for Hariyama."

"Well, that at least makes a little bit of sense," Cassia said. "It's an experienced battler, right?"

"Still, that Crabrawler isn't a joke," Acacia pointed out. "Your boarder hasn't been on the island for very long, right? How long has he had this rowlet for?"

"About… five weeks?" he guessed, and then blinked, realising it was four. He felt like Ash had been living with him for months, but it had actually been less than one. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling strangely awkward about the realisation.

Cassia frowned thoughtfully. "What's his name again? Ash Katter?"

"Ketchum," Artocarpus corrected, checking the newspaper.

"Call me crazy," she said, "but is he the one that always shows up in the Key Trainer section of research articles? I'm almost positive he's the one with the bulbasaur Oak always references as his ranch leader."

They all fell silent for a second, trying to remember, before Acacia rolled back to her desk and typed in a search query to check. Her eyebrows rose in mild interest. "Look at that. Ketchum. In one, two, three… seven of Oak's recent papers, two of Rowan's, one of Elm's, and… Ivy. Must've been slumming it with that one."

Kukui blinked, then pushed off Artocarpus's desk to hurry over and look over her shoulder. "Really?"

"Oh, and look here, he's referenced in Gary Oak's paper too," Cassia said, pointing out a minor paper at the bottom of the list. "Seems you have a proper research assistant in your house, Kukui."

"Do they say why he's a Key Trainer?" Kukui asked, scanning the search results. Acacia slapped his hand away from her screen and clicked one of the links to bring up the page in question, but it didn't provide much extra information. "Key Trainer Ash Ketchum, re: Bulbasaur, Tauros (herd)… it just looks like he's the trainer of Oak's research subjects."

"Still, he gets around, huh?" Cassia said mildly. "Those are some big names. Do you even know what I would do to be mentioned in one of Rowan's research papers?"

"Nothing I'd say in polite company," Artocarpus drawled, and she mimed throwing something at him in retaliation. Artocarpus snickered but otherwise left it there, while Acacia turned her own smirk on Kukui.

"And now he's slumming it again," she teased. "Such a step down."

"Hey, at least I can get myself a research assistant. Who was your last Key Trainer?" he deadpanned, and she laughed before going back to the search results.

"In all seriousness, though, they're not just big names. Elm's paper is that one he did about the G.S. ball—"

"The premier example of a failed research experiment," Artocarpus joked. "Exciting!"

"—both of these Rowan papers are from that year when he was the golden child, talking about dimensional breaches and the Creation Trio. Even Ivy's is her biggest paper, that one about the Legendary Birds," she said, pointing to it. "Either he's the biggest good luck charm on the planet, or he really knows how to pick 'em. So what's your amazing paper going to be this year, Kukui?"

He grunted, both because it wasn't that funny and also because he was preoccupied reading dates. With the exception of Oak, whose papers came out relatively regularly, it seemed like Ash had only been helping professors for the first few years of his journey. But when he thought about it, that made sense – Rowan's final paper in that incredible year he'd had was almost entirely theoretical and positively smacked of League censorship. It had kind of been a turning point for a lot of Pokemon Professors, with a significant decrease in using active trainers, since that gave the League an excuse to meddle in their research.

"Well, I'm officially not surprised he could keep up with Hariyama," Cassia said. "Real Pokemon Professors don't waste special mentions on mediocre trainers' pokemon. He'd have to have some ability."

Kukui blinked and frowned at her. "What do you mean 'real' Pokemon Professors?"

"She's right. Elm's a bit of a soft touch, but from what I hear, Rowan and Oak keep their responsibilities as Pokemon Professors pretty separate from their research papers," Artocarpus pointed out. "We still don't want to hear your bragging, but it sounds like your boarder is a little more interesting than we first thought. Well done."

Still caught on the implication that he wasn't a real Pokemon Professor, it took Kukui a moment to respond. When he did, he wasn't any less offended. "You didn't get that when I told you how he led the Totem Gumshoos into battle with over a hundred rattata?"

"Yeah, but that could've just been Proud Papa Kukui talking," he said with a nasty grin. "This is documented evidence."

"I am not a 'proud papa', he's my student," he corrected. "And if that's what you call a lack of evidence, I am never asking you to peer review my work again."

"Ooh!" Cassia said, lifting her head. "Does that mean if I call you 'Proud Papa Kukui' I don't ever have to read your work again? All those in favour of a new nickname for the Proud Papa?"

"Yeah, okay, funny, I'm going to get some work done now," he said, but while his colleagues smirked, he gave the search results one last thoughtful glance before heading into the training room.

He'd have to give those papers another look sometime.

The papers were interesting—there was a reason they'd been some of the biggest ones released in recent years—but not particularly enlightening. He'd read them all before, and it wasn't like they expressly referenced Ash or gave any insight into how he spent his time. For all Kukui could tell, Ash hadn't done anything for any of the professors except provide some pokemon for them to look at while they wrote some of the defining papers of the last decade.

If he read between the lines, however, he could perhaps see something in Professor Oak's work. The man studied the relationships between people and pokemon, and Kukui knew enough about Ash's team to know that when he mentioned a trainer and his bulbasaur, it was pretty easy to guess who he was talking about. Nothing earth-shattering, but still enough to add to the mystery that was Ash Ketchum.

"Your pokemon greet you by attacking you?" he asked Ash one morning, and the boy actually stopped scarfing cereal for a second to stare at him.

"Huh?"

He flicked his device to show what he was reading. "This is one of Professor Oak's research papers, and I think he's talking about you here. Are you the trainer whose pokemon will always greet him by showing off their weakest attack with a personal demonstration?"

"Oh! Yeah," he said, and went back to his cereal. "I didn't know I was in any of those. That's so cool of him."

Kukui waited pointlessly for a moment before prompting, "Why do your pokemon greet you like that?"

"Hm? Oh, well, if it's their weakest attack then it's the best way for me to know the least they can do. So, you know, it tells me what they've learned while I've been away," he said around a mouthful. Kukui waited again, but apparently Ash considered that to be the only explanation needed. He looked back down at the paper, to where Oak was detailing it as a sign of trust and affection between the trainer and pokemon.

He decided he was perfectly okay with not feeling that level of trust with his pokemon.

Other articles were less confusing, but perhaps, if he was reading between the lines correctly, slightly more concerning. Like the one that discussed the concept of blaming a trainer for a pokemon's personality faults. It talked about trainers that raised their pokemon with love and affection only to be bitten when the pokemon evolved into a new and more aggressive personality. When that was just metaphorical, Oak pointed out, the general consensus was that such a concept was fine – a firm hand and strict training could usually bring a pokemon back into line. But when it was literal, were they actually telling a traumatised child that their pain was their own fault? It was an accepted practice (in Kanto and Johto, Kukui reminded himself – it became increasingly less common the further west you went) but what kind of impact would that have on a developing mind?

The emotional growth of a young pokemon trainer was apparently something Oak had been very concerned with a few years ago, belying the careless attitude he'd shown Kukui through their phone calls. He'd worried over the emphasis on rivalries that the league promoted, and the harsh letdown that inevitably came when beginning pokemon trainers—who often showed great promise and skill—either failed to make it to the league or were knocked out in the beginning stages. One of the papers Kukui could actually remember ignoring was an essay that mulled over the theory that a trainer should never let their pokemon see them scared, because it led to some trainers developing the habit with people too.

Reading it now, he thought of Lillie. Not because she didn't show her fears—you'd have to be blind, deaf, and completely inattentive to miss that—but because she always insisted she wasn't scared. That it was all in her head and she'd be fine if she chose to feel otherwise.

There were probably a lot of people who would agree with her, he realised.

Days later, when their extra-curricular lesson was brought to a screeching halt by Ash sprinting onto the scene with a poisoned Rowlet and a curiously mild look of concern, he found himself thinking of the paper again. Especially when Rowlet was cured, and Ash immediately cheered up, looking for all the world like he'd never known any problems at all.

At least, he did until everyone else had gone home and he was helping Kukui gather their supplies. He kept his voice perfectly light and cheerful, almost absent, as he said, "I'm going to skip dinner tonight, okay?"

Kukui dropped the chair he'd just finished folding. "You what? Ash, are you feeling alright?"

"Of course!" he said with a quick grin. "But I want to take Rowlet and Pikachu to the Pokemon Centre."

"That is a wise course of action," Rotom advised, sounding a lot more concerned than Ash did. "You should have done so much earlier."

Ash just glanced at it, while Kukui frowned. "Rotom, we cured Rowlet's poisoning. You don't need to go to the Pokemon Centre for every little scratch."

"This is not just a scratch!" it insisted. "I calculated Rowlet's damage percentile to be over eighty-five, while Pikachu suffered sixty-two percent!"

"What?" he asked, turning back to Ash. "What happened?"

"It was no big deal!" he said, but Kukui noticed his eyes had wandered off to the side, and his lips were twitching around his grin. "We just ran into Team Rocket. It was a tough battle, but we made it through. It gave us a lot to think about, right guys?"

"Pikachu," Pikachu said, almost sounding embarrassed, while Rowlet crooned sleepily.

"But now we have some time, I'd like to get everyone checked out," Ash continued. "I don't know how busy it'll be at the Pokemon Centre, but I wouldn't want to keep you waiting. So –"

"Don't worry about that, Ash, I'll come with you," he said. When Ash looked hesitant, he gestured vaguely toward Rockruff. "I should probably get this one checked out, anyway. It might be wild but it could probably still do with a Refresh! I'll buy us dinner while we wait."

Surprisingly, Ash still didn't look thrilled with the idea, but he didn't argue either, and they finished packing everything up and dragging it back to the house in relative silence. Now that he was looking, Kukui could see that Ash's shoulders were stiff—sitting slightly higher than usual—and his smile was a little fixed. But with everything considered, Kukui could guess why, and so kept quiet.

At the Pokemon Centre, however, he made his move by suggesting Rotom observe Nurse Joy. "I think it would find it extremely beneficial to experience some of your scans up close and personal," he added to her meaningfully, and she blinked for a second before catching on.

"Oh, of course! I'd be delighted to—" She winked at Kukui and Ash. "—let you experience one of our health scans, RotomDex! Please, come this way!"

Ash stared as she and the four pokemon disappeared into the back, then raised an eyebrow at Kukui. "What was that about?"

He shrugged lazily. "Some Rotoms don't adapt to possessing a pokedex as well as others. Ours seems well enough, but it doesn't hurt to get a professional opinion every now and then. Besides, I wanted to talk to you."

"Without Rotom?" he asked, and Kukui nodded, raising his own eyebrow when Ash immediately began to look wary. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, swinging his arms against his sides as he asked, "Um… what about?"

"Just what happened today," he said, and then flicked a hand at the dining area. "Come on, let's get some dinner. Grab us a table while I order."

By the time he got back, Ash seemed to have worked himself up into a mild panic, sitting ramrod straight in his chair and fiddling with his fingers. Jaw clenched and eyes wide, he watched as Kukui sat down, waited two more seconds, and then exploded.

"Rowlet and Pikachu were okay, I swear, I know how many hits they can take, and I knew they would be okay as long as we didn't get into any more battles. It was just that I knew Lillie and Mallow would freak out if I left the class and with the poisoning cured it was just bruising, so I knew they'd be okay if we left it for a while. I swear if it had been anything bad I would have come straight here, it's just that I knew they were mostly okay and I didn't want to make it worse by stressing people out and –"

"Stop!" Kukui cried, and Ash's jaw clicked shut. He raised his eyebrows, waiting to make sure that the tide had ebbed for the moment, and then said, "I understand all that, Ash. I've been on a pokemon journey too, remember. I don't think you're cruel for holding off on healing your pokemon."

He blinked rapidly for a few seconds, then relaxed. "So… that's not what you wanted to talk to me about?"

"No. It's fine. I'm more worried about you," he said, and Ash blinked again.

"Me? I didn't get hurt."

"No. Well…" he added thoughtfully, "There's a training theory I've been thinking about a lot lately – I wanted to run it past you, see if you knew it."

"Uh… okay?"

"It says that part of the emotional connection between a pokemon and trainer is that if a trainer is worried or panicked, a pokemon can't be expected to perform to the best of their ability," he said slowly, watching for a reaction. "So a good trainer never lets their pokemon see them scared."

Ash didn't relax, but he did sit back a little in his chair with an understanding smile. "Of course! I'm not always great at it though – dead ghosts freak me out," he admitted, and Kukui stalled for a second, trying not to get distracted by the casual way Ash had just referred to actual ghosts. At least that's what he assumed Ash meant by 'dead' ghosts. He seemed to think they were real… real enough to be a common encounter. And… what?

No. No, he was not getting distracted. He fixed Ash with a firm look. "So you do try and hide how you're feeling."

"I don't know if I'd put it like that," he said. "But it's definitely important that pokemon never think they're facing something they can't beat. And part of having a trainer is having someone to look to for direction when you don't know what to do. So it'd be pretty bad if their trainer looked like they thought something was hopeless, right?"

Kukui tapped his fingers against the table a few times, considering Ash's expression. He seemed comfortable enough, but his eyes kept drifting off to the side. He let it go for a minute before prompting, "Or if they looked like they'd really screwed up?"

Ash's smile slipped a bit, and he looked down at the table. "Sure. I mean, if you looked like that, then the pokemon might think it was their fault things had gone wrong. Especially a new pokemon, who's not used to battling, or…"

"Or a pokemon like Rotom?"

He shrugged again. "Well, in that case it's more that it's got no real experience with stuff, so it might start to think something like poisoning is dangerous enough to bench you for good. And it's not. I mean, once the poisoning is cured, you just gotta get back up and learn how to avoid it for next time." He was still technically smiling, but his eyes, not quite hidden by the bill of his cap, were growing darker with each word. "Because there will be a next time. And you gotta keep going. That's what being a Pokemon Trainer's all about."

"Maybe," Kukui agreed. "But there's no pokemon here now. So you don't have to hide what you're thinking."

He didn't answer at first, and when he started to, drawing himself back up with a deep breath and the beginnings of a grin, Kukui made a point of meeting his eyes with a firm look.

"Ash," he said softly. "Do you think you screwed up today?"

It was almost surprising how well that worked, actually stopping Ash's attempted misdirection in its tracks. He almost looked shocked by the question, entirely caught off guard by someone wanting a real answer.

Maybe that was why it took a long time for his expression to fall, and even then, he tried to hide it by bowing his head again. "Yeah, I did."

Kukui nodded slowly, still watching what he could see of Ash's eyes. They seemed a lot more trustworthy than his mouth. "How?"

"I've been slacking off too much," he said. He began slowly, but as the words continued, he began speaking faster and harder. "Pikachu and I haven't been training properly, and I haven't given Rowlet nearly enough battle experience. And I – I knew how strong that Mimikyu is, and I just didn't…! I didn't think…!" He clenched his eyes shut, turning his head away like that would block everything out, even as he continued berating himself. "I saw the mareanie, too. I should've known it would fight for James, they always do! But I didn't even look until it was too late and – I almost lost. I almost lost them. I almost…!"

It was… odd. He wasn't quite crying. He was just… clenched. Every muscle tensed, his jaw locked into a hard line that changed his whole face into something harsh and older. Kukui's arms twitched, wanting to reach out, even as he knew that would be crossing a line. Besides, it had come on so fast. It was literally less than a minute ago that Ash had been smiling, even if it wasn't real, and now he looked like…

Even as Kukui watched, the moment seemed to pass as Ash reopened his eyes, sucked in a breath, and then let it out, visibly forcing himself to relax.

"I screwed up, and I lost. But I can't focus on that. That's not who I am. That's not who I am," he told himself again, and looked up with a smile that was angry and determined but almost genuine. "I just gotta start training again. Team Rocket's got a strong team here, so I gotta make sure mine is just as good. They're not going to win. I'll make sure no one takes Pikachu and the others away from me. Simple as that."

Kukui hesitated, lines from Professor Oak's essay rolling through his head. Lines about pokemon trainers being taught from a young age that their emotions could have a negative impact on the ones who relied on them. About how those trainers adapted by avoiding emotions. How they might not even notice that they were abandoning their own needs because someone else needed them to be strong.

Some of them survived. They cut themselves off from the pain by telling themselves it didn't matter. That was why true Pokemon Masters and Champions often seemed so cold, or disconnected from the world. But some of them…

He found himself thinking of Guzma, who had been so angry and hurting, but had only been able to deal with that by getting stronger through pokemon battles. When that hadn't worked, he'd lashed out at the whole world. And even Kukui had rolled his eyes and told him to grow up. And then he'd disappeared into Team Skull, and… that was pretty much that.

"So don't worry, Professor," Ash continued, before he could figure out how to respond. "I know exactly what I did wrong, and I won't make the same mistake again. No more slacking off! It's time for me to get back to training!"

"Ash…" he said, but almost immediately faltered. He'd screwed up with Guzma because he didn't know how to recognise the problem – this time he just didn't have the words. "Losing a pokemon battle isn't… just because you screwed up, that doesn't –"

"Sorry to make you wait!" a voice interrupted, and he flinched. Looking up, he found a tired young man standing by their table with a tray of food, professionally oblivious to any conversation he may have interrupted. He presented them with the benign smile of overworked hospitality staff everywhere and began setting down their meals. "I have two burgers with the lot, an orange juice, and an extra large coffee with an extra double-shot. You know that stuff'll keep you up for hours even without a single extra shot," he said, and Ash laughed.

"Professor Kukui doesn't believe in sleep! He just passes out on his books!" he said playfully, before turning his attention on the burger. "This looks great! Thanks so much!"

The waiter did a double-take at the honest enthusiasm, then smiled properly. "No problem. Just come up to the counter if you need anything else. Have a good night."

"Thanks, you too!" he said, before grinning broadly and picking up his burger. "Seriously, Professor, thanks for this. I haven't had a burger in so long! It looks amazing." He took a huge bite and then practically melted into it. "Mm… it tastes amazing, too!"

Kukui just stared at him quietly for a few seconds. The tense muscles were gone. The anger, the self-recrimination, the sadness… it was like he'd never known a single bad thought.

And there was merit to it. The cheerful determination, the ability to just accept things and move on, and decide to do better next time. It was admirable. It was exactly what they all said a pokemon battle trainer was supposed to do.

And besides, Ash was his student. And even though they lived together, he was just Kukui's boarder. There were boundaries. He probably had support networks in the other kids, and back home in Kanto. He probably had people he called and whined at and they sympathised and it was all very healthy. Because as far as Kukui had seen, Ash was a happy, mentally stable (if somewhat odd) pokemon trainer that connected with people on a deep and emotional level. You couldn't do that when you were secretly tying yourself up in emotional knots. He was fine.

So he took a sip of his coffee and did the only thing he could. "For the record, Ash?"

"Hm?" he asked around a mouthful of food. "Yeah, Professor?"

"If…" He stopped, and then started again. "If you need help… any kind of help. With training, with… talking about… things," He inwardly throttled himself, wishing he was better at this. "I'm available. Alright?"

Again, it seemed to actually stop Ash for a second, even his enthusiastic chewing coming to a halt as he just stared. He swallowed his mouthful, paused, and then gave a smile that looked a shade too brittle. "Thanks, Professor. But I should be okay. I'm pretty confident in how I train for battle; I just need to get back into it, you know?"

"Yeah," he said, and let the kid have this one. "Maybe I'll come down and watch a training session one day. It's always interesting to see someone else's techniques."

"I know, right? I've learned so much from other people, even when I can't do what they do. Like Performers, or people who do Pokemon Contests? Some of the stuff they do is so cool, and it gives you all these ideas! Like combined moves. They do them so well. Have you ever seen a Contest?"

"A couple. It's not really my thing," he admitted, and let Ash carry on.

Maybe it was nothing, or maybe it would come up another day. Either way, he just hoped he would be ready for it.

He would do better this time.