I was going to delay this chapter until FFN fixed the stats glitch, but who knows when that'll be. After receiving reassurance on Reddit that these views would still be counted, I elected to release the chapter on schedule.

This is the second chapter of Mayor Lumine's backstory. It's also the longest chapter so far of the story, beating out Chapter 16 by only a small amount. I had a great time writing it; it's rather emotional. Enjoy.

ELIOT LUMINE, 41

As I got a little deeper into my twenties, the knowledge that I would one day have to prove myself to the village remained deeply ingrained within my mind. When this day finally came, I felt certain that I would buckle under the pressure just like I had that day when I'd first learned about the tensions.

I am, of course, speaking of the tensions between Lycan Hollow and the Illusionary. It may be worth noting that I'd mostly been told about this dispute, but I hadn't actually been shown it.

This may have been because my father wanted to shield me from the worst of the fear that such knowledge would induce in me. He'd scared me to the point of fainting during that one conference, after all; he wouldn't want to let that happen again.

That would, however, seem to contradict his words to me that day. It's a day that will live in infamy, at least for me, because it's the day that I fully appreciated what being a leader means.

I still remember what I talked with Emaire about that evening, when we were settled down in front of the fireplace. Owing to the summer heat, of course, we hadn't started a fire in said fireplace. Rather, we each had a large bowl of ice cream in front of us.

Every day, I grew more and more confident that Emaire Robinhoood was "The One" for me. How else could I see it when she was such a reassuring presence?

"I'm sure you weren't the first one to have such a reaction to the news" Emaire said to me, a bit of ice cream dripping down her chin. I decided not to mention that last part.

"Yeah, but it happened in front of everyone on the Town Council. Plus they all know that I want to be mayor one day, and my stock in that regard has no doubt fallen to the center of the planet."

"You don't have to be mayor, you know," she responded, smiling sadly. It was a tone a parent might use to comfort a sick child. "You could just live a low-profile life with me, so long as you're at peace with that."

"I don't know if I could be, Emaire," I said. "You don't understand how much pressure I'm under."

"Yes, I do. And this isn't a path you have to take if you don't want to; trust me."

At that moment, as much as I adored Emaire, I felt the urge to yell at her that she was dead wrong. Her parents didn't have positions on the town council, for one. She wasn't the one who constantly felt like she needed to live up to an impossibly high standard.

Except it's not an impossible one. If my dad can do it, I should be able to as well!

How could I possibly explain what it was like? I couldn't, for it's impossible to understand someone if you haven't walked a mile in their shoes; or rather, paws, since Pokemon don't need to wear shoes.

I didn't yell, though. Instead, I sighed and looked at Emaire with pleading eyes. Exactly what I was pleading for, I still don't know twenty-one years later.

"You don't know how it feels, Emaire. I can't just give up the family business; one day, my father will retire, and we'll need to choose a successor. That might have to be me."

My girlfriend frowned at me, in a more angry than sad manner. "Politics isn't your family's business; it's all of our business. The mayoralty doesn't belong to your family, it belongs to all of us. There's no reason you have to be the successor!"

I think that on some level, I knew she was right. I just didn't want to admit it, because doing so would once more cause my worldview to crumble.

You see, I took it almost as an axiom that I was destined to be mayor one day. I was already on the town council, and the mayoralty seemed like the logical next step.

Back to more immediate concerns, I sighed and said the following: "You're right. I don't need to be the next mayor. But I sure as hell want to be."

Even as I spoke, doubts started creeping in. First of all, in order for me to even have a chance at succeeding my father, he would have to retire or, Arceus forbid, die. The fact that I was almost wishing for the end of his life, or an age when he'd no longer be able or willing to perform the mayoral duties, made me feel sick to my stomach.

I'm not wishing for that to happen. I'm hoping that when it does happen, I'll be well-positioned to come next.

Was preparing for an eventual, inevitable event the same as wishing for it to happen? I didn't think so, but there was a part of me that felt guilty for even considering the possibility.

Don't feel guilty about it. All of us must die one day; that's just the natural order of things.

As though reading my mind, Emaire, after a relatively long silence, spoke again.

"Look, Eliot. If you want to be mayor, today wasn't a good start for you. You have to be able to handle news that you don't want to hear. Because if you don't…".

"I understand," I said.

"I don't think you do. At a minimum, you should think a bit more before you proclaim yourself certain that you want to be mayor. Because there are going to be days far worse than today, and you'll be expected to keep your composure through them all."

"I understand," I replied, showing my teeth this time. I didn't do this in a manner that Emaire would feel threatened by, but rather one to let her know that I meant what I said, one hundred percent. She was sounding rather like my father, even using similar language, so I couldn't help but take her seriously.

"Fair enough" Emaire responded, eating the last drops of her ice cream. "I hope you remember everything I said tonight; I'm heading to bed."

Although Emaire seemed tired, as evidenced by her relatively early retirement to bed, I knew that I wouldn't be sleeping for quite some time.

What I worried about wasn't related to my capability of handling my father's job. While I certainly hadn't been good at taking news today, that didn't have to mean much. I still had plenty of time to practice if indeed I one day took up the task.

My father wasn't exactly a spring Torchic, but he likely had a good number of years left in him before he ended up retiring. I could prepare for the job during that time, while trying not to be overt about it so as not to offend him.

After Emaire went up to bed, I gave another deep sigh and went outside the Big House for a walk. I hoped it would help to clear my mind, because Arceus knew I could use that.

I walked by the lake for a few minutes. The sun had gone down fairly recently, and part of the sky was still orange. Despite this, the first stars had appeared in the darker part of said sky.

Staring into the lake's deep blue depths (darker at this hour than they would be during the day), I pondered the more worrying part of what Emaire and I had just discussed.

I'd always known that being on the town council would be difficult, even if I hadn't expected it to be this difficult. I had no intention to resign, though; why would I do that if I had higher ambitions?

No, the greater cause for concern was that this was the biggest argument I'd had with Emaire during the two years we'd been together. We'd had tiny spats over whose turn it was to cook, or to do the dishes, but nothing like this so far.

Eventually I walked through the village, passing by any number of dwellings that were still well-lit. On the outside, they looked perfectly peaceful, as though nothing was wrong within them. I knew this was a facade in many cases; every family had arguments sometimes.

As the evening twilight turned into flat-out night, I reached the edge of the sparse evergreen forest that bordered the village. This was where Lycan Hollow ended and the wilderness began.

Going back to what had been discussed at today's conference, I recalled that there had been a war between Lycan Hollow and the Illusionary in the past. I also remembered that tensions were rising, and another war was a possibility.

If the Zoroark clan is going to invade, they'll probably do it through the woods. They've got the power of illusions; they could just disguise themselves until they reach the village. We might not know what hit us until it's too late.

But there's also the river. It's too dangerous to cross by just about any method, so I don't think the Illusionary are dumb enough to try. Still, it's a possibility, and if I'm going to be mayor, I have to be ready for anything.

But do I really want to be mayor? Or do I just feel like I NEED to be, just because of my father?

I no longer knew what to think. Indeed, "no longer" was hardly accurate, since I'd never known what to think. If I'd believed I could handle all that responsibility, I'd been kidding myself the whole time.

The sky above was full of stars, so many that you could make out all of the constellations. I'd never been much of a stargazer myself, but even I knew how lucky I was to live out in the country, free from all the light pollution of a major city.

It's unthinkable that my parents would want to leave this place for a city. And yet, that's what many retirees here choose once they're done serving the community. But then, I'm twenty now, and I can handle anything. I have to be able to.

Little did I know at the time, the "unthinkable" would end up happening sooner than I expected.

"Son, I have some news for you" my father told me about a year and a half later.

Outside the windows of the Big House, a blizzard was howling; visibility was near-zero. It was so cold out that it even felt chilly inside the house.

It was frigid enough out there, but my very bones seemed chilled by my father's words. Emaire and I had been sitting in front of the fireplace with hot chocolate, playing yet another game of chess, when my father butted in.

"What is it?" I asked him.

My dad sighed, a mannerism that I'd inherited from him. He didn't look as though he were eager to deliver this news, and yet he was forced to anyway.

"Your mother and I have been talking, and I'm getting a little old for this. The job of being mayor is stressful, especially when you're in your fifties like I am."

"That's not too old for the job" I insisted. "There are leaders of entire regions who are a good twenty years older than you! Are you quitting?"

"The word is resign, Eliot. Precision of language is important."

Emaire looked up from her mug of hot cocoa. "But are you leaving the office? That's the question your son asked you."

My father nodded. Turning to me, he continued. "Eliot, your mother and I agreed that this coming summer, I will step down as Mayor of Lycan Hollow. We're going to move to a place with a warmer climate; these winters are very hard on old bones."

I hated to ask my next question, simply because it might be seen as insensitive. It might sound, to my father, as though I were eager for him to leave so that I could take over as mayor. But I had to ask anyway.

"Am…am I going to be the next mayor?"

There was another long silence, but then my father broke it.

"I don't know, Eliot. Several other town councilors will no doubt want the position; they already know that I'm leaving in July. But for what it's worth, you're my first choice to succeed me."

It was incredibly heartwarming to hear that my father had such confidence in me, his only offspring. To receive his endorsement in the mayoral election meant the world to me.

Emaire grinned at me. "You could be the next mayor, Eliot!"

"Quite" my father responded. "But the key word there is could. You're going to have to prove yourself to the village in order to win the election; you won't want people thinking that you're only getting the position because I'm your father."

I'd never voted in a mayoral election here, but I knew how they worked. All the candidates were listed on the same ballot, and if none of them received 50% or more of the vote, there would be a runoff three weeks later between the top two recipients of votes.

Growing up, I'd greatly approved of this system; it ensured, at least in theory, that the would-be mayor had a strong base of support. However, now that I would be at the mercy of it if I stood for election, my views on the runoff system had changed.

"I understand," I told my father. "I'm going to do my best to win the trust of the village. And if I don't, then I won't become mayor. But I will run for mayor in the snap election."

After I made that promise, I became more convinced that I could do it. Not for the first time, Emaire reminded me that I didn't have to follow in my father's footsteps if I didn't want to, but I did want to.

Of course, becoming mayor was going to be difficult. Even beyond the question of nepotism, the fact remained that I was still only twenty-one. I'd be twenty-two in June, and the mayoral election would probably be in August.

I had seven short months to demonstrate to the residents of Lycan Hollow that I was their guy. Seven months to prove that I was worthy of the immense amount of responsibility that would be placed upon me if, of course, I was lucky enough to be elected.

I'm going to be the best councilor I can possibly be for the next few months. And I'm going to make sure that, when it comes time to vote, the people of Lycan Hollow will put their trust in me.

The blizzard outside was very intense, but it blew itself out by the following day. The next morning, I walked to the town council's headquarters past snowdrifts that were taller than I was. It might have been a very cold day, but I was invigorated by the knowledge that I was about to take the plunge.

Once I got to the conference room, I saw that a few other councilors were also present. I realized that this would be an awkward conversation since, as my father had told me, several of them no doubt wanted the same job I did.

"Hey, Eliot!" barked a voice from behind me.

I turned in the direction of said voice, and I ended up facing Pete Henry, a broad-shouldered Lycanroc who was the Commissioner of Elections for Lycan Hollow. He was tasked with administrative tasks regarding elections, such as printing and mailing out ballots, counting said ballots, and monitoring the elections to make sure they were free and fair.

"Oh. Good morning, Commissioner Henry" I said, my heart racing as I realized what I was getting into. I probably didn't sound as excited as I should have, because Commissioner Henry looked rather concerned.

"I received the news from your father that he's retiring midsummer. I also heard that he's endorsing you to be his successor."

I knew all of this by now, of course. There was something about hearing someone besides the mayor saying them, however, that made it feel more concrete. I was really doing this!

Is this real life?

"That's true" I responded, trying not to get back into my stuttering habit. "My father has done that."

"Very well. I wish you the best of luck, but you will have to file as a candidate here before you can run for mayor. You can do that right now if you'd like."

Suddenly, I was hesitant. It was a weird thing, too, because declaring my candidacy for mayor had been my main reason for making the trip here. Now that I was about to do it, however, doubts started creeping in once more.

Once I filled out the paperwork to file, there would be no going back even if I ultimately didn't win the election. There would be no retreating from public life, and everything I said or did would come under greater scrutiny.

Much has been said about how much pressure candidates feel in larger elections, such as for mayor of Jubilife City or even for President of Sinnoh. I don't deny this, but there's something about running in a small town that makes it especially stressful.

After all, in a village the size of Lycan Hollow, with less than three thousand residents, it sometimes felt like everybody knew everybody else. If you made any missteps in the eyes of the public, there would be nowhere to hide. Everything was personal in this election.

"Nexus to Eliot Lumine, nexus to Eliot Lumine."

"Right" I said, snapping out of my reverie. "Yes, I'm going to file here and now. Just get me the paperwork, and I'll fill it out."

I followed Commissioner Henry to a different room, which contained stacks and stacks of papers. Not all of them were related to election work; how could they be, when there were so many?

"Here you are," the commissioner told me as he produced a short stack of documents for me to sign. "Before you begin, I'd just like to remind you that the odds are stacked against you. Critics will accuse you and your father of nepotism; indeed, they may accuse you of much worse than nepotism. And when that happens, remember that you can't let it get under your skin, at least not publicly."

At that moment, I fully understood why my father was retiring in his fifties. He'd been mayor for eleven years, but he'd probably aged twice as fast during that time. There had been evenings at home when his stress was palpable, and I'd always assumed that to be due to mayoral work.

But maybe it isn't. Maybe it's because when you mess up in a small town, everybody knows about it.

Do I really want to do this? It's going to put my family in the public eye yet again. But we're already in the public eye, because my dad's been mayor for over a decade!

I also recalled Emaire's words from the day I'd passed out right in front of the other councilors. You could just live a low-profile life with me, so long as you're at peace with that.

The problem is, I wasn't at peace with that, not at all. If I didn't at least try to become mayor, the job I wanted, it would always be my biggest "what if."

Technically, if I wasn't successful this time, or if the pressure got to me, I could try again another time. But then my reputation would be tainted further; I'd always be the 21-year-old who bit off more than he could chew, and that's not a good platform to run on.

"If you want to be mayor, Eliot Lumine, you're going to need a greater attention span. I've been trying to get you to answer for close to a minute now."

"Oh, right, sorry" I replied. "Yeah, I was just thinking about whether or not to do it."

"Whatever you decide", Commissioner Henry told me, "make sure you're okay with it. After all, you cannot unring the bell. If anyone didn't know you before, you'll be the talk of the town by tomorrow. And even if you withdraw from the race at a later date, you won't be able to shake off your new fame."

"I understand that" I said, probably sounding like a robot, but also not caring how I sounded. "I'm going to do it. I'm going to file."

"You remind me of your father. He took the plunge at the first opportunity, stepping up to the plate right away. He was very ambitious indeed."

This might sound ironic, but the word ambition had long held a negative connotation to me. I'd always associated it with being power-hungry, and yet, that's exactly what I was if I wanted to be just like my dad.

"Is that a good thing?" I asked.

Commissioner Henry shrugged. "Ambition isn't good or bad, Eliot. It's not about what personality traits you possess, but how you use them. That's what makes all the difference."

I was reminded, at that moment, of my father's constant reminders that a Lycanroc's fangs were best used to protect those they loved. They could be a great asset, or an extremely dangerous weapon. It was all in how their bearer decided to utilize them.

After I filled out the numerous sheets of paperwork, I immediately went to my office. There was no reason to return to the conference room; indeed, the fact that it would be awkward was a pretty good reason not to do this.

Despite having just made the biggest decision of my life thus far, or perhaps because of it, the rest of the day felt uneventful. I didn't even have that much work to do. Everything seemed to build up to my reunion with Emaire that evening.

When I talked with my girlfriend, she seemed very excited for me. Although she'd told me repeatedly that I didn't have to run for mayor if I didn't want to, she could also accept that I'd made my choice.

Knowing what I know now, I believe she was simply trying to support me the best she could. That's who Emaire Robinhood was, after all; she was nothing if not supportive.

Running for office was quite stressful; should I have been expecting anything else?

From the moment news of my candidacy spread through Lycan Hollow, I was constantly being approached on the streets, to the point that it became rather annoying in spite of these individuals' best intentions.

Many of their questions for me were polite. Some others weren't necessarily the kindest questions, but they were still reasonable ones to ask. How would I manage the budget? How would I ensure that our village remained safe? (The latter question came from a fellow councilor who wasn't running for mayor.)

As the elder Mr. Lumine, as well as Commissioner Henry, had predicted, I didn't have the field to myself. There were four other candidates running, two male Lycanroc and two female. All of these opponents were at least fifteen years older than myself, and had much more experience.

"The crowded field works to your advantage" Emaire told me during a fireside chat one evening in late March. "If the anti-Lumine field fails to consolidate around a single alternative, you could win with something like forty percent or less."

I shook my head. "It doesn't work like that. The runoff system means I need to get half or more of the votes in order to win. And, given that the others should want to consolidate, I need to reach fifty the first time."

My father offered to campaign with me, but I turned down this offer. If I was seen with the current mayor too frequently, this would likely breed a perception that I was only in this race because Daddy wanted me to be, or that I was an entitled brat who wanted power.

Instead, many of my events, mostly ice cream socials by the lake once the weather got a bit warmer, were with Emaire. My parents would go hide upstairs, or walk in the woods, until the guests left.

While crowd size wasn't necessarily a good indicator of how the election would go, it was hard to be discouraged when dozens of people showed up at my events with Emaire. In a town this size, that was quite an accomplishment.

On my twenty-second birthday that June, I held yet another ice cream social on the beach. Emaire had shown me how to use the ice cream machine, and I found that I preferred eating it this way. This, combined with my overall good birthday vibes, meant that I was feeling happier than I had in several months.

If they love my girlfriend's ice cream, they might be more likely to vote for me. Maybe that's a bit of a stretch, but a man can dream, can't he?

Emaire was no longer simply my girlfriend or my cooking coach; she had also become an assistant speechwriter, along with myself. Much like her skill at chess, she was a better writer than I was, and was able to point out where I could use more forceful language.

On that summer afternoon in 200Y, I was delivering an address to a crowd of about fifty or sixty. It was essentially a "who's who" of "who loves ice cream enough to be out in hundred-degree weather to hear Eliot Lumine talk."

Anyway, I don't remember the exact content of that speech. It might have been something about reducing the risk of wildfires, or how to keep the village operating sustainably, but I was far more focused on a certain female Lycanroc sitting in a folding chair a few feet away from me.

What I do remember was feeling more confident than usual. By my calculations, at least two percent of Lycan Hollow's population had come out to support me in absurdly hot weather, and that could only be a good sign. I can't speak for Arceus, but I increasingly felt that things were going my way.

At the end of my speech, I gave a shout-out to my girlfriend.

"Ladies and gentlemen, none of this would be possible without the love of my life. Let's give it up for Emaire Robinhood!"

The crowd went wild, and Emaire did so as well. She seemed to squeal with joy as she ran into my paws.

We embraced each other for several minutes, neither of us wanting to let go. I can't speak for her, but I didn't care that dozens of pairs of eyes were on us at that moment, nor that much of the rest of the village would learn about it soon enough.

Luckily, the crowd's reaction was overwhelmingly positive. They were clapping at Emaire and I, and I could tell they must be very happy for us. If the crowd's enthusiasm determined who would win, I felt certain I had this in the bag.

While my relationship with Emaire had been more or less public information for quite some time, it seemed to be even more public now. I could hardly come across a fellow villager without them asking how my girlfriend was doing.

Almost every time this happened, I'd tell them that Emaire was doing well, and that she was excited to become the first lady of Lycan Hollow. I wouldn't tell them every intimate detail of our relationship, but I'd tell them enough so that they felt I wasn't hiding anything.

Really, that was one of the most important things. Any leader, whether it be of a small business, an entire village, or a whole continent, needs to be transparent with their people. If there's no trust in the leadership, the community isn't going to flourish. And I had every intention of helping Lycan Hollow continue to flourish.

But first, I had to win the election.

My father stepped down as mayor in early July. A few days later, he and my mother bade Emaire and myself goodbye; they had selected Goldenrod City in Johto as the place where they would live out their golden years.

"I'll talk on the phone with you as often as you want" I remember promising my mother that last night. "And I'm going to make you proud, all right?"

"You don't have to prove yourself any more than you already have, Eliot" my mother responded in a loving tone. "You're my son, and that's all it takes. A parent's love is unconditional, never forget that."

"Our love for you", my father told me with tears in his eyes, "is not contingent on whether or not you become mayor. No matter what, you are everything I could have imagined in a son. But for what it's worth, we're both rooting for you."

I couldn't tell if my father's tears were tears of pride or of sadness. To this day, I still don't know.

I felt my eyes cloud up with tears of my own, tears of sadness. I was saying goodbye to my parents, to the people who had helped make me who I was today. The next time I saw them in person, if it happened at all, I would either have lost an election, or I would be the leader of Lycan Hollow.

The following morning, my parents were driven to the airport by a member of the human liaison, and that left Emaire and myself alone. With just the two of us, the Big House felt two sizes too big. We didn't, however, invite friends over to make the house not feel so big; we didn't want the villagers to think we were trying to curry favor with them by hosting lavish dinner parties.

That evening, I found myself sitting on the back porch, watching the sun sink closer to the tops of the mountains, casting long shadows over the glacial lake. I put my head in my hands, feeling overwhelmed with everything that had happened over the last twenty-four hours.

At one point, Emaire came over to comfort me. "Can I talk to you?" she asked.

I nodded. "Believe me, I would love someone to talk to right about now."

"You seem like you're nervous, and I want to help you any way I can. What's wrong?"
There was no reason to hide anything from Emaire. If I could be so open and transparent with the general public, I owed my romantic partner at least that much.

"It's just so hard to fathom everything. The election is next week, and it feels like it was just yesterday that I filed to run. But at the same time, it feels like I've been on the campaign trail forever."

Emaire started giving me a back rub. "One way or another, it'll be over next week. Next week, we'll have our answers."

I laughed dryly. "It'll only be over next week if I lose. If I win, then it'll have only just begun. I'll be mayor, for better or for worse."

"Isn't this what you've always wanted, though? I think you're up to the task of governing this village."

"You think so?"

Emaire cleared her throat, then said some words I knew I would remember for a very long time.

"Eliot, if I didn't think you were up to the challenge, if I didn't think you were fit to be mayor, I would have moved heaven and earth to stop you from running. I would have done everything I possibly could to get you to drop out. As someone who loves you, that would be the only decent thing to do."

That would be the only decent thing to do.

Perhaps it was just me, but those words seemed to be Emaire's north star, to put it one way. It felt like she always did the right thing, although I may be putting a claw on the scale since she was the love of my life.

"Thank you, Emaire," I told her. "I don't know how I can pay you back for offering up all this support."

My girlfriend shook her head. "Oh no, Eliot, you don't have to pay me back. Pay it forward instead. Pay it forward by being the best damn mayor in the history of Lycan Hollow."

The last few days before the election were torture. I paced back and forth beside the lakeshore, constantly thinking about the big day that was fast approaching. And one thing was for certain: From this side of my father's departure, that day looked a lot closer.

One of these days, it rained loudly and abundantly. For obvious reasons, I decided not to pace outside. Instead, I did this through the halls of the Big House, not caring about how loud my footfalls were.

"You could be a bit quieter, Eliot," Emaire told me. We seldom fought over anything, and even gentle disagreements like this one weren't too common; we were kindred spirits, to put it another way.

I grumbled a bit. "It's my election, and I'll stomp if I want to."

"I'm not going to argue with you. I guess I'll go do my reading somewhere else."

All of a sudden, I felt guilt welling up within me. There was no way I'd let Emaire walk through the rain to the library or wherever she might go. Not when I'd practically coerced her into doing it.

The gentle manner in which my girlfriend spoke didn't help manners. There was just no way I could deny her the peace and quiet she deserved in her own home.

"I'll stop," I replied. "I'm sorry for making so much noise."

After that I went back to my bedroom, sighing very frequently. I was very glad that this minor argument hadn't occurred in public. If it had, this would no doubt have exacerbated any rumors that our relationship wasn't so happy.

Sitting down on my bed, I reminded myself, not for the first time, that it wasn't just about winning the race to become mayor, or actually governing. When I'd filed, those were two of the burdens I'd placed upon myself, but the above list was by no means an exhaustive one.

The single newspaper produced in town, the Lycan Times, would no doubt run articles about my personal life, which would only lead to more and more encounters with individuals who demanded to know about my most recent argument with Emaire. Dealing with the media was going to be a major challenge.

I didn't blame the Lycan Times for running sensationalized pieces in their paper; it was just something they needed to do for their bottom line. Even in a small town, the media had its incentives. That didn't mean I had to like it, though.

Even now, there were likely any number of articles in the paper about me. How many of them would have been embarrassing to read? To this end, I had cancelled our subscription to the Lycan Times several months ago.

There's just no room to mess up in a small town. There really is nowhere to hide.

The day of reckoning arrived, and Emaire and myself held a small watch party with a few close friends in our living room. It was ironic, in a way; whereas I'd been rather introverted before, and thus only had a couple of people to call friends, I now had many acquaintances who wanted to be friends with me.

Of course, the authenticity of these friendships was an open question. If I ended up losing the election, and therefore becoming irrelevant, how many of them would ditch me?

However many I think, probably more.

The TV displayed updated results from the mayoral election on Lycan Hollow's own channel. I tried not to watch the clock, but it was clear that the poll workers were counting the ballots as slowly as possible for dramatic effect.

"It should not take over an hour to call a winner!" one of my supporters shouted at the TV set. "This isn't Jubilife City!"

"Even in Jubilife City, they count the ballots pretty fast" another supporter told the first one. "Why do they make us wait so long?"

There were many things I liked about living here, but the slow pace of election returns most certainly wasn't one of them. Obviously, it was more important to ensure that every vote was counted accurately, but this glacial pace was well below what it could have been.

By about half past nine in the evening (polls had closed at eight), I was in the lead with roughly 46 percent of the vote. As some observers had predicted, my opponents had failed to coalesce around a single alternative, and they were paying the price.

"They say that about eighty percent of the expected vote is in," Emaire told me, reading texts from her mobile phone. "And if you don't get to fifty, there will be a runoff."

My stomach churned with nerves. If it did go to a runoff, I didn't like my chances. Not only would there only be a single opponent for me, but my detractors would likely be more motivated to vote against me, since they'd failed to defeat me once.

Commissioner Henry was on the TV screen, giving sporadic updates as to the state of the race. He wasn't smiling, but there was a glint in his eyes that told me he was all too excited to count the ballots as slowly as possible, just to drag it out.

The commissioner was also acting the part of a political commentator, but it was plain to see that he wasn't used to this role. He did not appear to be in his element, and if I ran the TV network here, I would have told him to go back to administrative work.

"Eliot Lumine, the son of former mayor Herschel Lumine, leads with 47.1 percent of the vote, well ahead of his closest rival. The remaining question is if Candidate Lumine can make up those three percentage points to get over the line."

"That's not profound at all," I snorted. "With all due respect, Commissioner Henry, go back to where you came from. You're not a good commentator at all!"

Since the commissioner wasn't in the room, I felt okay about laughing at him. It would have been different, of course, had I been laughing directly at his face. It was, however, satisfying to see the others in the room agreeing with me and joining in.

Emaire scrolled feverishly through the updates on her phone. Her face turned from excited, to worried, to frantic, to relieved, and back to excited again. She'd gone full circle in less than a minute.

My girlfriend looked up at me, suddenly appearing worried. "They say there's a massive dump of ballots coming in from the edge of the forest. It looks like those were mostly mail-in votes."

"Mail-in…that's gotta mean fraud" I said jokingly. "If you want to vote, do it in person. We're a democracy, so you shouldn't be afraid to flaunt your vote!"

Everybody in the room started cracking up. In the middle of a tense waiting period, any bit of levity was seized upon like the last lifeboat from a sinking ship.

Commissioner Henry was still cosplaying as an election reporter on television. At least, he was attempting to; as stated above, he was terrible at this.

"We're receiving a note of roughly two hundred mail-in ballots from the woodside district of Lycan Hollow. There is likely some speculation that these voters favor strong border policies against the forest, and may be less likely to vote for Candidate Lumine as a result. Due to the lack of exit polling in this race, we are unable to confirm whether or not this is indeed the case."

My heart was beating several miles a minute. Eighty-five percent of the vote was in, according to the graphic beneath Commissioner Henry's figure. The "massive dump" of ballots likely accounted for another ten percent. If they didn't favor me, it would be extremely difficult for me to reach fifty percent of the vote. And if that didn't happen, my chances of becoming mayor would go down the drain.

The room was full of nervous energy, to the point that if a Lucario had been present, they'd likely have been overwhelmed by the sheer aura of worry. All of us were on edge, waiting to see what the new ballots would reveal.

"We have some breaking news from the woodside district" the commissioner announced dryly. In addition to being slow on his feet when it came to reporting the news, he basically had negative charisma, and he seemed to be going through the motions more than anything else.

Even with Commissioner Henry's lack of enthusiasm, most of the Lycanroc (and a few Rockruff) in the room clasped their hands together as though in prayer. What did he have to say?

"The ballots coming from this district appear to be far more favorable to the former mayor's son than anticipated. With ninety-five percent of the vote in, Eliot Lumine has reached 49.8 percent of the ballots cast. He only needs to gain one-fifth of one percent to avoid a runoff."

The crowd cheered.

Emaire turned to me, smiling excitedly. "It's looking pretty good for you, Eliot! Those ballots weren't expected to help you, but they did, and now there are only about a hundred left. We're almost there!"

The energy in the room was palpable. There was so much clapping that you could barely hear the commissioner speak. And yet, as excited as I felt that I had a good chance of actually winning, there was still the residual frustration with the village for counting its ballots artificially slowly.

I took another piece of pizza out of its box. We had ordered a dozen pizzas for this party, simply because pizza makes everything more bearable. And we kept on waiting for the last few votes to be counted.

Suddenly, there was a pinging noise from Emaire's phone. My girlfriend picked it up and read the news, gasping.

"They're probably about to call it," she told me in little more than a whisper. "The remaining ballots are expected to heavily favor you, and there aren't that many left. Not much chance that anything unexpected will happen."

It seemed too good to be true. I'd fantasized about being mayor for quite some time, but the idea that it was actually about to happen seemed more than a little far-fetched. I bit into the slice of pepperoni pizza, hoping that the call would come soon.

Much of the audience had heard Emaire's words to me, and they also seemed a bit impatient. If it was so obvious that I was about to win, why did they have to hold off on naming me the winner?

I shared their frustration, but at the same time, there was still that doubt within me, the feeling that maybe I'd been kidding myself from the very beginning. Maybe there had never been a chance.

Finally, a few minutes later, Commissioner Henry cleared his throat on-screen. He then announced the following:

"We can now project that Eliot Lumine, the son of former mayor Herschel Lumine, has been elected as the next mayor of Lycan Hollow. It appears he will inch over that 50 percent threshold to win outright. Congratulations to our next mayor!"

I let out a deep breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding until now. Emaire leaped from her armchair and went over to hug me. She didn't tackle me, even though she clearly wanted to; that wouldn't have looked professional.

"You did it, Eliot! You did it!"

At that moment, I could see the future pretty well. A happy life with Emaire in the Big House, some years as mayor, and eventually retiring somewhere else if we so desired. Perhaps having children, although it was too soon to think about that. The responsibilities as mayor would be onerous, but nothing I couldn't handle after the last few months.

Knowing what I know now, I wish I could freeze the story right there. It's no surprise that the other villagers were happy for us; all they saw was a pair of 22-year-old Lycanroc lovebirds, one of whom had just achieved his dream job. We must have looked so perfect as we embraced each other, neither of us even considering letting the other go.

Alas, the hard truth is that time must go on. Given what happened next, I wish I could go back in time and tell the much younger Eliot Lumine to hold tight to everything he cared about, to never take anything for granted. That his ideal life wasn't going to happen.

Because, ultimately, there are two things to remember.

One, the grass is always greener on the other side. You'll look at the life you don't have and think it's perfect, but your own life is pretty damn good already.

Two, you don't really know what you have until it's gone.

Gone.