Admirari had fainted, but was still in one piece. Yet Isobel's hands still shook. They still yearned for something to hit. No, she couldn't do this. She was in control of her instincts. Isobel pulled herself up and got back to her original spot before the battle, putting her remaining strength into her steps.

Those golf claps returned, even less enthusiastic than before. Trevor didn't even have his phone glued to his hands. Bronze wasn't there either, presumably back in his Pokeball. Nil looked worried there, not for the match, but for Admirari. Isobel fell to the floor, catching her breath. If Trevor had any potions in his pocket, now would've been a good chance to use them, though perhaps that was being too optimistic. To her surprise, he came up to her, handing her a potion to spray over herself.

The aching disappeared, which was better, but Isobel would've had to walk the rest off.

"Well, damn, congrats." He smiled, though it looked the same as the one performed for the Snap!App. "I really owe you one for all of this."

She didn't crack a smile, but at least it didn't get her to pull the opposite. He sounded sincere enough anyway. Remembering she couldn't talk, she patted his pocket, gesturing to his wallet.

"Ah, yeah, sure." He turned to Nil, stepping towards his rival as Nil tended to Admirari with a potion of his own. Soon, she was able to sit back up. Immediately, she went over to Isobel, scowling at her.

"What was that?" Admirari growled. "You went berserk there."

"Says you!" Isobel tried to control her tone. "You just turned my own thoughts against me!"

"I did no such thing!" She sighed and backed away, looking to Nil. "In any case, I did have a good fight with the Machamp. I'll see you at the centre."

"Of course." With that, Admirari teleported out of the picture, leaving the three on their own.

Nil extended one hand towards Trevor; the other hand's nails had bite marks, nearly gnawed off but still hanging there. Trevor stared at it for a moment, then his plastic expression came back, whipping out his phone again to take a selfie with the two of them. Isobel stayed out of the frame as she slipped her shoes back on, trying to wrap her head around what Admirari had said. At that point, Trevor's slang faded into white noise for her.

While this happened, the audience members started leaving, including those from Trevor's side.

"Honestly, he's such a tool in person, I can't believe..." one said as they exited. Trevor either didn't hear it or pretended not to hear it since his expression didn't change.

After they finished, they walked out, and all the while, Isobel wondered when the two would finally make the damn deal so she could get back home with her moolah. Once they were out of sight of the arena and back into the facilities of the battle park, the trainer duo came up close once more. With little comment, Nil handed the bills to Trevor, which disappeared into his wallet.

"It was a good fight," Nil said, his cool complexion warming a little. "Look, I know times are tough for you right now. And when it comes to striking out on your own—"

"Don't talk about that." Trevor scowled, backing away from the garbed mystic. Nil just shrugged and went back to his neutral expression.

"Suit yourself. Well, best of luck to your career, however that goes." Nil put his hands in his pockets and walked off, leaving the two alone at last.

Isobel's prize was just out of reach. She didn't know what Trevor was being so coy about, but it added a new fishy aura to him. Well, even fishier than before. Once Nil was out of earshot and eyeshot, Isobel glared at Trevor.

"Look, I dunno what you're plannin', but whatever it is, I want my money now."

"Yeah, about that…" All the colour drained from his face; he tugged at the chains hanging from his neck. "Look, I'm in hot water right now. Can I, um, pay you back later?"

Isobel took a few seconds to process that, then laughed in disbelief.

"Aw, man, you can't be serious." She shook her head. "After all this... no, just no."

"Yeah, I know." His expression wasn't lying that time, but that did nothing for her. "I admit, I knew I wouldn't have been able to win if it wasn't for you. And I'm sorry, I really am, but—"

"What, for treatin' me and Bronze like crap the whole time?" Another chuckle. "Yeah, you better be freakin' sorry, man."

"You don't understand!" He waved his hands, either shielding himself from her incoming wrath or trying to explain himself better. "I need every penny I can get, I'm flat out broke!"

"Says the guy wearing gold."

"That, uh, that's for the Snap! B-but, it's okay, it's okay. I'll give you your money once I've paid my lot off, I promise."

She tried to pull herself together, keeping her shaking fists behind her.

"That's not how this works. How should I trust that you're not gonna run off with everything after what you've done?"

He took a deep breath, clutching his chest.

"I-I don't understan— okay, just listen, please!"

"Enough." Isobel took a deep breath and stepped closer to him, looking down at his snivelling figure. "I haven't put up with your crap just so you could tell me this. I've got payments to make too, y'know."

"But—"

That was one too many buts. Isobel grabbed his shirt, tugging him by the collar.

"Listen, you fuckhead!" Isobel shouted, tightening her grip. "I scratch your back, you scratch mine, just like you'd do with anyone else! So pay me now or I'll seriously dunk your ass in a Sharpedo tank!"

"You—you can't!"

Isobel growled, grabbing his chain like a Yamper collar. "Then give me my—"

"Help! Help! I'm being attacked, help!"

Isobel froze, relaxing her grip. No, he wouldn't have stooped so low, but he totally did, as the commotion attracted a crowd of trainers.

"Please, help!"

"You shut your—"

A ball of aura darted towards her. Isobel had to let go of Trevor to avoid it, and he unfortunately got away. She would've chased after him if it wasn't for a black-vested Lucario approaching her. He was a patrol guard, fitted with a badged uniform that covered his spikes.

"Ma'am," Lucario said, "I'm not having another Pokemon fight a human on my watch."

She stepped back. What had she gotten herself into?

"B-but I—"

He raised his paw, which flared with blue energy. "You know how serious this is, right?"

Isobel wasn't there. This wasn't happening. Wait, she could've explained hersel—

No, you idiot, he won't believe you! Fight back, you coward, fight! You're fixing for one anyway!

No, she couldn't do that either. The only other option that sprung to mind was to get the hell away from there.

She ran: dodging people, dodging Pokemon, dodging aura spheres. It all went so fast. Isobel dashed through the streets, running through alleyways, hoping to shake the security off. She kept running, even though his footsteps no longer pounded the floor from behind. Then she stopped, catching her breath.

That Lucario still could've picked out her aura, though. She wasn't safe. Yet she hit a dead end. She had nowhere to hide. She tried to find anywhere she could escape to, but found nothing.

A moment passed as sense caught up to her. That Lucario had stopped chasing her. But why? He knew where she was. She didn't want to stick around long enough to find out. Maybe she could've told him about Trevor, but—

Isobel kicked a trash can over, muttering human curses under her breath. What a Machump she was. She could've avoided all of this if she had calmed down. Now she had no idea where Trevor was. She could complain to the PokeJobs site and get compensation there, but by the time she would've gotten it back, she probably would've been evicted by then.

Great, a wonderful way to cap off a wonderful day. She was all alone in that smelly, dark alleyway.

She faced the alleyway's exit as hundreds of glass pathways emerged before her. Where she'd go, whether she could've scrounged up enough to pay back the rent in time, if she'd move back in with Gloria, if she took a gamble and travelled the world. And out of all of them, she didn't know what to do, just like the Hatterene had said. All the junctions shattered before her, leading to one exit out of the alleyway through a path of shattered glass. The long way back home.

After a lengthy bike ride, Isobel swung the flat door open and slammed it shut with the same force. If her neighbours complained, she didn't care. She was glad to be back home. Her drab, compact, and messy home.

In her morning routine, she didn't notice it as much, but the apartment needed a deep clean. Beer cans lay crumpled on the floor. Empty protein buckets and dirty dishes sat in random places on the kitchenette. Cereal boxes piled up on top of the recycling bin. Perhaps if someone else lived here or helped her out…

She shook her head. Who cared if the place was unclean? It was messy, sure, but it was her mess. She could take care of herself. Right?

Crap. Her hands shook again. Why was this happening? They didn't have lives of their own, right? No, she was in control. Deep breaths. Was there any beer left? No, there wasn't. It had been a few days since her last grocery delivery.

Isobel didn't want to leave the house. No more interacting with those stupid humans for a day. Yet she needed something else to take the edge off. Then she remembered she had saved something for an occasion like this.

Once, she'd convinced a stranger to buy her cigarettes using money she had lent to them. Most Pokemon couldn't drink or smoke, that much was true, since it wasn't good for them and they hadn't adapted to it to begin with. No clerk wanted to be liable for a Pokemon's poor health even though other humans freely poisoned themselves. Regardless, she'd bought it out of impulse, in case she was curious to try it out. Here, she was more than curious: she wanted a taste of humanity, to prove to herself she was still just like them.

Isobel fished through the kitchen drawer until she found what she was looking for: a lighter and a pack of Blue Numels. Everything was going to be okay; she just needed to get some smoke in her lungs.

Isobel charged over to the balcony, letting the cool breeze in as she slid the glass door open and closed. She leaned against the railing, looking at Circhester from up on the hill. Even from a distance, Circhester had that historical charm to it, especially when bathed in that orange evening light. It would've been calming if it wasn't for everything else.

Her hands shook again as she reached for the pack of cigs, still wrapped in plastic. Last chance for returns? Nah, she tore it open, exposing its contents.

Isobel took a smoke out of the pack and flicked the lighter a few times until it produced a naked flame. Wind cut through, which threatened to slice it away, but an extra hand shielded it from the breeze. Fire touched paper, and there it was: Isobel's first cigarette. Her shaky hand dragged it to her lips, just shy of singeing her grey skin. Puff, breathe in, hold, breathe out, wait, no, it was too much.

Isobel spluttered; the back of her eyes stinging. Ash lingered on her tongue. Bleh. She scrunched it onto the railing, putting the damn thing out, and flicked it out into the open, out of sight, out of mind. Even then, that damn taste was still in her mouth. Now, she was left with overpriced poison she didn't even want anymore. There was good poison, like the booze, and then there was bad poison, like this one. And just like today, she tried something new, only for it to blow up in her face.

She backed into the glass door behind her. All four of her hands tugged at her head. Then she was on the floor, knees tucked to her chest. Isobel was all alone on that cold balcony.

Stupid. She was so fucking stupid. Stupid for thinking she could've struck out on her own, and stupid for taking up this deal to begin with. What were these classes even for? Why did she ask Gloria to set her up with lessons in the first place? All that time spent studying, all that time spent not battling, all that time spent not making herself useful to the team, all so she could struggle in an even worse position than before. Why?

She didn't know.

That Hatterene, no, Admirari back there had nothing to do with this. Those thoughts earlier were all her own. Isobel had all the answers; she just didn't want to admit them.

From the first day she moved in, there was always that sinking feeling of 'what now?' She spent her first week sightseeing, wandering the streets, the parks, and finally checking out the Hero's Bath museum. Those were nice, but eventually, the novelty dried up, like how she ran out of money. That was her first wake-up call.

For days, she had surfed through the PokeJobs board, until she found a few odd jobs for a removal service. The work there was tolerable. The people were friendly, the other Machoke too, and they appreciated having a stronger Machamp like her on the team. That would've been perfect for her.

Except it wasn't. The pay itself wasn't all that impressive. In part because heavy lifting was easier for her kind, plus there was a culture of strength-training Machoke over paying them handsomely. It was good for building up muscles, but what was the point if she wasn't in the league anymore? She felt the same as when she was with Gloria.

She had left for greener pastures, then business was slow for a while. A stint at two different retail stores was enough for Isobel to learn she hated customer service. Not the 'helping people' part, just everything else surrounding it. The tedium, the crappy management, being out of depth with the petty things humans got hung up on like how presentable they looked for numerous stuffy occasions like work meetings and parties. At least with the new sign spinning job, she snuck in a bit of me-time, but that was still an escape from herself.

Underneath all of that, who was Isobel? She was at sea, getting swept up by the waves when she needed to find a damn raft to climb onto. There was no land to swim towards, only time as it stretched for days and days like the ocean. More time than Isobel knew what to do with, especially once she was on her own. All her friends and relatives were somewhere else. Yet she promised herself she'd be strong, for her sake and theirs. She didn't need to rely on anyone, especially not her trainer or another human. She liked it this way. Except she didn't.

No, she hated it. Hated being alone. Hated, hated, hated it. She wanted help. No man, or Pokemon, was an island. Even with Gloria, she made friends of her teammates, and, well, Gloria was a friend too. She still was. Then why didn't she talk to her after all this time until Gloria called?

She won't listen to you, she's ashamed of you, not being able to look after yourself. Just like your old chums back home.

She didn't want to remember that, but this couldn't go on. This voice was a part of herself she could no longer ignore. It seemed hellbent on self-destruction, and the only way Isobel would get past it was to face it head-on.

Isobel shut her eyes, trying to visualise this internal voice.

She was a Machop again, standing in an inky black room. This voice manifested as a Grimmsnarl, towering over her as he bared his fangs.

"G-get away from me!" Isobel held her puny fists up. Before she could even fight back, the Grimmsnarl wrapped his hairy tendrils around her.

"What are you even doing here, Isobel? You don't belong here."

She fought against it, squirming and writhing in the matted hair.

"This world is a mess. You don't know where you stand with humans and other Pokemon. Pokemon like you can prance around like you know what you're doing while this system still binds you and sends the dumber ones to slaughterhouses. And you can't change any of it. Makes you want to give up, doesn't it?"

Isobel thrashed more and more, trying to find a way out of this hairy jungle and its tangling vines. That was until the hair started wrapping itself around her head.

"You love to fight. It's in your blood. Don't pretend you're anything different. It's the only thing that makes sense in this crazy world."

Then her mouth.

"You'll just be drifting from dead-end job to dead-end job. You have no passion. You don't truly want independence, you just want validation, that you're an adult, whatever that means in Machamp terms. It's not like anyone back home would've cared."

Then the rest of her body, encasing her in a follicular sarcophagus, save for her eyes.

"Why do you even need to go through all this trouble? So you can keep impressing those meatsacks even though you're nothing special? You think you're hot shit just because you're on your own in the big city."

It was right: she wasn't anything special. Nothing special. Not important. Not outstanding at all. No one would be proud of her. She wasn't worthy of love from anyone.

She sank further and further into the abyss, everlasting black surrounding her. Blacker than black. There were no thoughts left. Everything turned a blank as all light faded. Then a faint image emerged above her: a dwelling made of wood and stone home to many mixes of fighting types.

She saw herself years back as a Machop, way before all this started with Gloria. Isobel trained alongside her parents, two other Machoke, as they punched holes into piles of stones they had set up as practise dummies. She joined in, only to nurse her hand afterwards.

She knelt down, looking guiltily towards the two. Then they lowered themselves to her level and patted her shoulders.

They spoke, but no words came out. Still, their tone soothed her. At that point, she didn't have the strength to do what they did, but they kept reassuring her that her skills would come over time. There was no point shaming her when she still had room to grow. The rest of the dwelling would've said as much.

They fought alongside her, giving her a basis for her own fighting style. They accompanied her on trips to mountainous peaks where all of Galar stretched out before her. They did everything. Yet still, there was discord in her heart. She wanted to be stronger, like the other Machop, and yet she wasn't. Being herself wasn't enough for her.

One day, they asked if she wanted to go on a journey with a trainer. It wasn't exactly their place to meddle with humans, but at low points in their own youths, they went on journeys of their own and came back stronger, both in mind and body.

Isobel obliged. One day, she'd come back a better mon. Yet she never returned to the dwelling.

The image faded, and all was dark again. Dark except for a pinprick of light way up above.

"Stay down there. You're worthless, just like me. Just like you made me."

Worthless. So what?

Why did she have to prove herself to anyone, let alone a human, to feel worthy of anything? There was no one she wanted to live for but herself. She liked these weird comforts and curiosities. She liked being among lots of various people and Pokemon. And she liked to help others. The kid. Bronze. That was when she felt her best today. And she wanted to feel it again.

The light beamed down, loosening the blindfold.

Maybe she still had those fighting bones in her body. But it didn't define her. Nor did the human stuff. Still, there was plenty she liked about trading blows with other Pokemon. Living in the present. Testing her strength. Just the sensation of pushing her own mind and body to the limit. Nothing wrong with a bit of play here and there. Her parents would've said the same. Then why didn't she come back to them, like she didn't with Gloria until today?

That's what she wanted to find out. Years of fighting, and she still never found that inner strength, that full balance she needed. Now that strength was coming back to her, like rays of sunshine beaming over her.

The light flooded the void, and with the hair no longer covering her mouth, she could breathe again.

The Grimmsnarl faced her, baring his fangs. He chopped downwards, slamming his hand against Isobel. One strike would've pounded her to dust. Yet Isobel blocked the strike, catching the attack between her palms.

"You're right!" she said. "Battling is a part of me! And I didn't wanna admit it, but now I do. I'm sorry I pushed you aside!"

The hair covering her unravelled, and the two Pokemon turned into white light, brightening up that void. Isobel had evolved into a Machoke, and the Grimmsnarl had devolved into a Morgrem. The figure no longer towered above, and had shrunk to half her height. He whimpered, tugging on his locks of hair.

"I-I didn't mean to say those hurtful things. I just didn't like being ignored. I'm sorry too."

She didn't need to be angry with him or herself. Isobel knelt down, extending her hand to shake his paw. Then the void shattered into obsidian shards, letting the light in as it consumed the room.

Isobel's eyes snapped open as her phone vibrated. There were four messages from Gloria.

'today at 6:31pm from OG Gloria'

'Oh hi'

'Saw sum of yr fight, u kicked ass!'

'R u ok?'

'Sry abut b4'

Isobel laid there for a moment, letting the night air cool her down. She didn't remember what she was doing before she opened her eyes, so it must've been a dream. The episode from before had still rattled her a bit. Breathe in. Breathe out. Eventually, she relaxed her grip on herself, and, well, got a grip on herself, not that she felt any better. She needed to talk to Gloria, properly this time.

Isobel went inside and padded to the sink to pour herself some water. All that time and she hadn't realised how dry her throat got from the smoking. Or from something else while she had that episode. Downing it in one gulp didn't do much to soothe her, but it got some of the taste out. With a sigh, she tapped the phone a few times and pressed it to the side of her head as she sat on the bed. Hopefully, her trainer would pick it up if she wasn't busy.

"Hey," Gloria said as music hummed in the background. "How did it go?"

"Terrible. But I'm glad to hear your voice after all this."

"Same. But… I thought you won."

"I did." Isobel huffed, clasping her head. A migraine was coming on just thinking about it. "Didn't matter anyway, the trainer ran off with all the money."

"All the money… excuse me, what?!"

"You heard me. Didn't give me a penny."

"Are you kidding me?" Footsteps thumped from her side of the phone. "He can't not pay you, you should take it to the police!"

"Well, they chased me last time for tryin' to talk some sense into this guy." She crossed one set of arms. "I'm not turning myself in for this stupid crap."

"No, but…" Another sigh. "That really sucks, Isobel. Look, whatever money you need to cover the rest of this month, I can—"

"Please don't." Isobel grit her teeth. "You're not bailing me out."

"Oh come on, I'm doing it because I want to, and what happened was really unfair."

"Yeah, I'll say. But please, don't just throw your own money away for it. And I'll figure something out, I'm sure I can. And that's not why I called you."

"It wasn't?"

Why did she seem surprised by that? It's not like Isobel asked for much help with this moving-out period. Isobel slumped to the bed, sighing.

"I don't wanna go back to the way things were. But I also think I made a mistake moving out."

Gloria kept silent.

"Well?" Isobel expected a response, but piped in before Gloria could take her turn. "I guess… I'm just not sure if I'm happier than I was. And I thought I would be. The minute I signed up for that programme, I dreamed of having my own space. Not just some rocks or a tent, but a place I could put stuff up in. Now I'm here, it's…"

"Different?"

"No. I feel the exact same. I still don't know what the hell I'm doing with my life."

"Who says you needed to know?"

"I dunno…" She rubbed her forehead. There wasn't a good answer for that, though it was on the tip of her tongue. A part of that dream came back to her, and she sighed again. "Just myself, I guess. Even before I met you, I set my hopes about myself way too high. Just wanted to come back stronger to my folks."

Gloria hummed, then took a deep breath.

"I get it. Mind you, even I don't know that much about what your family was like."

"It's been so long since I've seen them; I thought it didn't matter."

"I mean, family is family. I still think about what my parents are doing and if they're pleased I became a trainer instead of a doctor like they first planned."

Isobel couldn't help but chuckle at that, though that quickly subsided. What would her own parents think about her after everything was said and done? Now she had mixed with humans for so long and gained the ambitions of one?

"Do you think I should see 'em?" She rubbed one free set of hands together. "I dunno, it's been a while, so it might be really awkward, or…" The right words lingered on her tongue.

"I think they'd be glad to see you, and it'd probably be good for you to get out of the city."

"Maybe…"

"I mean, I think it's great that you stuck it out for that course and wanted to live somewhere you liked. I don't really think you sound very happy about this, though."

"It might just be this crappy situation, but no, I'm not."

"So… what would make you happy, then?"

Isobel turned in her bed, thinking of a quick response. It was something she always took for granted, yet it was still an abstract concept. How did she define happiness, anyway? From the pleasure something gave her, or the feeling of long-term satisfaction?

Then she remembered another part of the dream. The way her parents helped her. The way Isobel liked helping others. Those both felt nice. And she couldn't deny that there was always a part of her that wanted to battle. So why was she ashamed of admitting it? Now was as good of a time as any.

"The odd thing is, I still actually like fighting, after all this time."

"Yeah, it's just all the crap surrounding it you don't like. Understandable."

"Exactly. So, I thought about becoming a coach for other Pokemon. I could still fight sometimes to make my point, but I'd also be passing my knowledge down to others. I dunno, do you—" She stopped herself. Right, approval from Isobel wasn't needed, but it would've been nice to hear her thoughts. "Sounds good?"

"Totally! You helped mine out when a certain strategy wasn't clicking for them. Didn't she?"

Gloria called to her side of the phone. A pair of footsteps shuffled.

"Yeah, Izzy!" Hitmontop Eddy piped in. "Those flyin' types can't keep up with my moves now!"

It was good to hear Eddy's voice too. Maybe when things were less stressful, she'd give him a call through Gloria. At least, if he wasn't dancing, since he presumably went back to his spot where music played in the background.

"So, how about it? I'm sure there's plenty of room for you to do that. Times are changing, especially in this region."

Isobel scratched her chin. Yeah, saying it out loud, it only confirmed her resolve. Maybe she could've set up a page covering techniques, or arranged lessons for Pokemon, or other trainers. Video was all the rage now, wasn't it? Maybe that could've gotten her message across and would help influence the next generation of trainers and Pokemon alike.

Influence. Now that was a word she wanted to wipe from her memory.

Someone knocked outside, bringing Isobel's attention away from the phone.

"Hmm, I'll have to look it up," she said as she got out of bed to open the door. "I knew it was an option, but back when I did the tests, I didn't know that I was interest—"

Bronze and that patrol Lucario stood outside. Her heart raced.

"Uh, crap, can I call you back? Someone's here."

"Oh yeah, sure. Bye."

"And, uh, thanks a lot for listening. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime," Gloria said with an audible smile as she hung up.

With her out of the picture for now, it was round two against that patrolling Lucario. Isobel was at a blank there. Was he going to arrest her?

"Um, sorry, I'm—"

"No need to explain," the patrolmon said, looking down to Bronze. "This Thievul told me everything I need to know."

"I-I'm sorry I attacked that human! I just got so heated..."

She trailed off as the Lucario shook his head.

"Not to worry. Well, we don't exactly approve of betting in matches like these, though it's too late to really confiscate the money, so that evens out. And from what this fella told me, you got swindled out of a fair deal. Theft is a crime, and with you, well—" he patted his covered spike—"I was only doing my job. I've just seen bad things happen between trainers and Pokemon before."

Isobel sighed a breath of relief. She couldn't deny that, but what was he doing here?

"Well, in any case, I might as well give you what you're owed." The patrolmon took an envelope out of a satchel and handed it over to Isobel. "I know the PokeJobs system ain't perfect, but we've got to look out for each other, don't we?"

She opened the contents, revealing a stack of money, which she widened her eyes at. She thumbed through them, counting them in her head. 8 notes, 8,000 Pokedollars, just as initially promised. She didn't know how to process it at first. It was her pay, but having it brought back after all the crap she went through...

The Lucario cleared his throat. "You can thank this fella for bringing it to my attention."

"Oh, um, it was nothing." Bronze's tail wagged, betraying his meek expression. "Besides, it was the least I could do for—"

Isobel knelt down and hugged Bronze. It wasn't very dignified for people to cry. Especially not in Galar when the usual response was to put on a brave face and get on with it. But she wasn't a human, and Machamp like her were more open about their own emotions. So for the first time in a while, Isobel couldn't help herself, sniffling as Bronze wrapped his paws around her. Her extra hands rubbed the tears from her eyes even as she had Bronze in her clutches.

"T-thank you," she stuttered. "Jeez, the day I cry over somethin' like this…"

"Oh, um, don't mention it."

The two held that embrace for a moment until the Lucario cleared his throat. Isobel gently pulled herself away, sighing in relief.

"Before I go, well, I might as well say this Thievul needs a place to stay for the night."

Isobel cocked her head.

"O-oh, not like that," Bronze said as he shielded his face, "it's… oh, he can explain."

"He would like to leave his trainer. It's not really my department to deal with this issue, so I'll carry it over to those in charge of taking care of Pokemon so he can get properly unregistered later. And they'll also try to help him wherever they can. I don't want to force any obligation on you to let him couch surf, so if you know anyone else that could look after him—"

"Oh, no, it's fine," she said in a heartbeat, "he can stay with me for the night."

As much as she would've liked more explanation from the Lucario, she couldn't have turned Bronze away. So the patrolmon left, leaving the two of them alone. The apartment seemed even messier with the presence of another Pokemon.

"Sorry," Bronze said, "I didn't want to step on your toes, but, well..."

"No biggie, that's what shoes are for, hehe." She rubbed the back of her head. "We can talk about it inside if you wanna make yourself at home."

With that, Bronze entered, and she shut the door. While Bronze sat on the bed, pawing at the white covers, Isobel poured a water bowl for him. She also opened the fridge, hoping beer had magically appeared in there, but there was nothing but a half empty—no, half full carton of milk and some leftover canned Magikarp that smelled funny. A shopping trip was in order at some point.

There was still that taste of that cigarette left behind as she smacked her lips. The rest of the milk would do. She looked back to Bronze as he sprang up and dove into the sheets headfirst like it was snow.

"Um..." Isobel started.

"Oh!" Bronze's moustache bristled. "Sorry, force of habit."

"Nah, not a problem." Isobel laid the bowl on the bed, which Bronze happily lapped at while she sipped her drink. Still tasted fresh, which overpowered that awful ashy aftertaste. "So, you left Trevor."

"Yes." He looked to the balcony window, grumbling. "When he let me out to feed me, I caught onto the fact he didn't pay you and, well, I wasn't having it. Even if he didn't understand my rant, I think he realised how unreasonable he was being and let me go. At least, I hope so."

"Good riddance. I bet you're glad to be out of his hair."

Bronze flopped flat on his belly, tail sluggishly swishing on the bed. "I dunno. He wasn't… horrible, I guess. That money thing was it for me though." His eyes lowered. "I just stuck with him because I didn't know what else to do. Didn't wanna go back to the wild either."

Isobel hummed, surprised to hear of his origins.

"Don't tell me you put up with his shit all of the time without getting your own back."

Bronze tilted his head at the human curse, but continued.

"Well, not exactly. Humans like to wear these stupid shoes sometimes, I dunno, because they're more expensive and they like to show them off. Not that it makes much difference since they smell either way."

Isobel winced at that. "Ew. Go on."

"So Trevor bought these shoes one day, and he had to borrow even more money he didn't have for that. I heard his father cut him off, or something."

"Makes sense."

"I dunno much else about the human world outside my trainer, but even I knew he shouldn't have been wasting it on stuff he didn't need. He could've fed lots of Nickit cubs with that money. So guess what I did when he put those on."

"Mmm?" Isobel hummed as she took another swig from the carton.

"I peed all over them."

Her belly lurched, and she spat all the milk out into a stream, which splattered on the floor. Isobel clutched her stomach as she guffawed. Bronze seemed surprised at first, then joined in the amusement with high pitched squeals. This lasted for a few seconds. Once the laughter died down, Bronze slumped to the bed.

"This stinks. I thought I would've been happier once I left, but—" he buried his head in his paws, shaking—"I don't know what I'm going to do now. It must be nice, having your own den like this to yourself. You said it had its perks."

"Yeah, but it has its downsides." Isobel gulped the rest of the milk down, then stood up to wipe the mess from the floor with some paper towels. "Well, I like my own freedom, but I feel ya there." She frowned. "It ain't nice to try and make it alone."

Bronze uncovered his face, though it still had that look of worry. "I guess so."

Both of their stomachs rumbled, bringing them out of their funk. Isobel stopped mopping, stifling a titter. "Crap, I forgot to eat."

"Me too. I ran out just as Trevor was about to pour some for me."

"Well, that makes two hungry Pokemon." Isobel quickly finished cleaning up the last of the milk and stretched her arms. She had money in her pocket now, and some to spare before she had to turn the overdue payment to the bank, but that could wait until tomorrow when it reopened. "Whatever happens from here on out, I can at least treat you to some grub for now."

"O-oh, no, I can't ask that of you."

"No, seriously, I owe you one." She gave him a big smile. "You're a lifesaver, Bronze."

His whiskers twitched at that. "Well, you were nice to me, so..."

"Well then." She slipped on a four-sleeved jacket and headed for the door. "C'mon, it's my treat. Whaddya say?"

Bronze cocked his head, considering the request, and then joined Isobel as she turned the handle. Both their futures were uncertain at that point. For Bronze, the first steps into life without a trainer lay ahead. For Isobel, the challenge of carving out a niche as a coach, and possibly coming back to her old home. But those were worries for tomorrow. And whatever happened, at least they could face them together.

Isobel looked at her apartment one more time before she left for dinner. Even though it was messy and small, suddenly, having Bronze around made it feel less empty. She'd give it a good clean when she got back. Then there'd be enough room for herself, the Thievul, and the Morgrem in her mind.