This story was co-developed by Titan127 and beta read by ShonnaRose and JhinoftheOpera.

[14-2] Homeschooling

"What about that one?"

"Shush. You're going to scare them off."

"Wait no, wait! That one."

"Shush!"

"Okay okay, but what about—"

"Laina."

"What?"

"Laina."

"Right. Shush. I got it."

They slunk through the caves of the Coronet Range as if they were on the dark side of the moon. This particular cavern was carved close enough to the perimeter of a mountain that sometimes they arrived at imploded sections of the walls where sunlight penetrated. The periodic light acted like waypoints, but those open spaces were also victim to high-velocity alpine winds, so Ciel had them steer clear for their own safety. This left them victim to an eternal dimness with only Mint's vague glow as a guide.

They only learned she had Flash by accident, when they fired off a few Sunbursts and she kept glowing afterwards, which was probably because the same energy pathways were used in the process. So, Mint led the way, and Arden trudged at the rear flank to blast the group with flames every so often to stave off frostbite. Sometimes his flames felt colder than the ambient air, but most were radiant as usual.

Both their bikes were folded into more manageable states and hooked to their backs, since the environment was perilous to riding. And his remaining two Pokemon were also stashed away, Brisa because of her poor resistance to cold and Raven to keep her safe—for the time being—from her illness.

Ciel ordered Arden to snuff his flames and Mint back to her Poké Ball to skirt past wild Pokémon. A trio of Meditite silently humming atop a collection of stones, a flock (Herd? Pack? Cornucopia?) of Bronzor glimmering as they passed under a beam of sunlight, a Carbink twinkling as light refracted through its prismatic gems.

"Why'd you keep, ya know, poofing Mint? Can't she just turn her light out?" his sister eventually asked.

"Cold wears her down much faster than anyone else—Types, remember—so I don't want to keep her active any longer than I have to," he replied. "Plus, I don't need her trying to screw every living thing we come across."

"Ew." She mock gagged. "Oh, wait! That one!"

If he was just a few seconds slower, she would have tripped, rolled, and knocked a patrolling Nosepass into a wall, alerting all of its nearby allies. However, he managed to grab her collar just in time and throw her against a nearby rock, inadvertently burning his cast inside-out with the sudden movement. He hissed quietly, and she finally took the hint.

Arden went lights out again and they held their breaths. The small, blocky creature passed by, quiet as Mahogany on a hangover day. It pivoted on its stiff legs and tested the air. Ciel was certain they couldn't even see, or something, because they navigated entirely by honing on magnetic sources.

"First thing about wild Pokémon," he said long after it had passed, "is that they're dangerous. Most will flee if they're alone, but you don't want to get ambushed in a group's territory. You can get seriously, literally, please believe me, torn to shreds."

"But you've got Pokémon," she said.

He rubbed his left fist into her scalp, earning him a gentle punch to his side. "And a hitchhiker I was told to not put in danger."

"I'm not kidding, by the way. Let's look for that one." She basically ignored him, as he should have come to expect.

"Why Nosepass?"

"Cause the nose looks cute."

"Second thing about wild Pokémon." He dropped to a knee and fiddled with his boot, giving her an opportunity to guess the second fact her own head like a good teacher might. Probably. He wasn't a good teacher. "This isn't window shopping. It's important to have good team balance in mind, and plus, we have to consider the total resources it'll take to look after so many different types of Pokémon."

It was already getting ridiculous the amount of food he carried around. Dried Bug-type flesh for Arden, literally any piece of garbage he could find for Brisa, treated and dried meats for Raven plus some juicy cans of wet food because she'd knock his lights out if she ever found him without it. Most recently, on the way out of Eterna, he'd packed bags of nitrogen supplements for Mint that were so heavy that his backpack weighed more than he did. Next time they stopped at a hospital for his arm, he'd ask the doctor to look at his spine too.

"Okay, then what does your team balance need?" she asked, and though he couldn't see her making them, he could hear the air quotes. He couldn't help but take the bait. She was getting him talking about Pokémon.

"A defensive Pokémon would help me," he said, "since none of my other Pokémon can take much in the way of physical attacks."

It took everything not to add a qualifier of "current Pokémon", and even more to tell himself he wasn't replacing something that was lost. Just saying that, though, didn't convince the perpetual engines of blame.

"Isn't that thing literally made of rocks? Rocks are strong."

"Fine, we'll find a Nosepass," he said quickly, an instant decision to shake off the hollow feeling in his gut.

Though the specific one that passed them was long gone, they followed its trail through the cavern. Slow abrasions from stony legs, hundreds of thousands over years and decades, had worn a trail into the stone. When he pointed this out to Laina, she acted like she'd seen it all along (she absolutely hadn't). They kept the lights out to enable stealthy pursuit.

Ciel ducked half a second away from shattering a hanging icicle with his forehead, alerting them to every wild in the area. Laina, too short to be bothered, led forward as he weaved in and out of this low-roofed section of the cave. She stopped where the formations narrowed, peering down at something.

"Anything to note?" he whispered.

"Yeah. Get your butt over here," she shot back.

Finally clear of the minefield, and after requesting that Arden keep on guard, he kneeled beside her and followed her gaze down a soft slope into an enclosed, circular area. A pulsing mound of stones laid in the center of a populated Nosepass den and washed its denizens in blue light. Dozens of sculpted bodies stood together, each of their red noses ritually facing the beacon's metallic signature—whatever element it was, it was extremely valuable to these Nosepass, as they must've collected every extant pebble create this shrine. A few of the pack were even layered in the substance, having magnetized to their body from the central pile.

None of them seemed to notice their presence. The only sound in the area was a hum like the restless suburb sky, close enough to a city to never truly still. Were they focused or asleep? While he knew some basics about Hoenn Pokemon—a vacation trip as a kid made him familiar with its common species—he knew relatively little about the biology of Nosepass aside from their magnetic affinity.

"How do you choose one?" Laina swept her eyes between them, and Ciel watched for the curiosity in her eyes highlighted by the azure glow.

"Take a closer look." He pointed at one closer to the left side. "That one right there, it has three, no, four, legs."

Her face widened in delight when she finally carved its silhouette out of the darkness, assembled differently than many of its peers. Another one he noted had a much larger nose than the rest and happened to be much further away from the central source. Maybe sensory overload kept it at a distance, or maybe it could just get the same reading from further away. As the creatures revealed their secrets, he tried not to look at Laina's pearl smile reflecting the blue.

"Every Pokémon is unique, sometimes from injury, or natural variation, or a mutation. From a battle perspective, according to battle scientists like Ikaika Kukui, some are more defensive or offensive or fast by nature. They talked about selective development in school, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, since I was like, six."

"Those kinds of variations are what help them get an edge over competitors in the wild."

"Boooooring," she said, a bit harshly. But the way she rocked back and forth, her hands keeping her knees to her chest, said she wanted to hear him talk. "Just tell me what you're looking for."

His shoulders met his ears. "I honestly don't know. It's hard to describe, but sometimes I see a Pokémon that just clicks with me."

What exactly did he look for in a Pokémon? Unlike other Trainers, he didn't have some set team in mind, and he wasn't at a point where he was considering selecting Pokemon specifically to win a tournament. When he really thought about it, there was only one thing his team seemed to have in common. He'd considered it earlier when he was reviewing Mantis's injury: all of them had something that tried to hold them back.

Raven suffered her mysterious sickness, which could only have been an expression of her species' latent ability, terrifying as it was.

Mint had her unusual colors, which prevented her from living up to her mating instinct.

Arden had permanent scarring that, while faded with time and evolution, was still a reminder of imperfection.

No, they weren't imperfect. They were themselves.

Just like Hector, a runt with a heart too big for his body, was exactly who he was meant to be.

His search for a friend landed on one, and in silhouette he could see that the creature was in pieces. A detached arm laid on a pile of shed pebbles, and it tilted just a little in the opposite direction because of a shorter left leg. It was enamored by the magnetic treasure like all the others, though its smaller bits occasionally slid towards the mound's until they were sucked into the mass's pull.

Ciel hadn't seen it in battle at all, but it ultimately didn't matter. Every Pokémon had a strength somewhere, and if they didn't, he hadn't finished looking yet. And regardless of potential in a fight, that Nosepass looked like an interesting fellow to know.

The creature was right at the edge of the den on the other side, so Ciel grabbed his sister by the hand and quietly dragged her through the rocks until they came to another opening right behind the crumbling statue. He had to be careful that he didn't draw away more than their single target. Unable to shrug his bag off without messing with his cast, he asked his sister to reach into the left side pouch.

"It's a small tin, black. Circular," he said. He felt her draw something out. "A smaller tin." She tried again. "That's Raven's food. It looks like the kind of thing breath mints come in."

"Aren't you supposed to use Poké Balls or something?" Laina grumbled.

She finally handed him something right and only had time to gawk and hate him silently when he popped the lid. An overwhelming aroma of tang washed over them.

"Remember that metal-infused tea Crag gave us in Oreburgh?" he asked.

She pretended to gag. "Yeah, because you mentioned it."

"He really insisted on giving me some for the road, and I couldn't exactly say no. Well, I could've, but it would've been rude. These things are attracted to magnetic metals, and I bet if we—" He reached forward with a pinch in his fingers and sprinkled it in a clear line. "—draw a trail, it'll follow it. But it should be weak enough that none of the others could sense it over that big source in the middle."

Balanced precariously on his toes to get it as close to the target as possible, he almost toppled and kissed the floor with a crooked nose, but Laina managed to grab his collar tight and stabilize him at the expense of his throat. Their combined efforts created a night-imperceptible trail of metal leading over thirty meters away from the den, and they kept painting until the fannings were run dry.

"Want to keep some for a drink?" he asked, warranting a 'shut up, nerd'.

The two of them hid behind a stone in wait. For a little personal candor with himself, he had absolutely no clue if this would work. Really, he was just trying to show off—his survival training was adequate, but he wasn't some attuned-with-nature wilderness expert like Crag was. This was just an experiment, to give her a taste of the creativity of Pokémon training.

Laina looked shaken by something. The ever-present cold was seeping through her layered jackets, he couldn't help but feel there was something else. "What's up?"

"Are Pokémon okay with being taken away?" she asked. "Wasn't that... its family?"

Ciel huffed a cloud to stall for an answer and decided it was very fascinating for a long few seconds. A conversation he once had with Chuck Hartwig came to mind, about whether or not Pokémon actually liked the things humans compelled them to do.

"I think about it a lot. Good Trainers should make Pokémon happy in the same way their social groups in the wild do, and they're a lot less likely to—" Ciel steeled himself to lose a battle with his own emotions. "They're a lot less likely to die on our watch than in the wild, so I'd like to think I'm helping them live safe lives. I even offered Arden the chance to leave once, and he didn't take it. That should mean I'm making their new home a good one, right?"

Laina nodded to herself sharply, determined to understand. Rosy splotches had been burned into her cheeks by the cold and her own hot head.

A grinding presence drew their eyes back to the trail and a pile of pebbles came bounding along, magnetizing the tea to its body to politely clean up the trail. It walked into the path of a ray that pierced the cavern, and he could see that almost every part of its body was scuffed, and it was actively losing material just trying to sate its curiosity. Was its body made of softer rock?

The Nosepass was alone, as none of its compatriots broke from their service to the shining god of the Coronet Range. Fortunately (and rather surprisingly), his plan worked perfectly.

Ciel grabbed an unused Poké Ball from his pocket and maximized it to capture mode. He took aim, reared back, and then hurled the orb halfway to nowhere. When it awkwardly clattered against the stone, their target didn't seem to flinch, still too interested in metal shavings and dried leaf grounds.

"Were you trying to miss?" Laina hissed.

"I'm not left-handed," he said, staring sadly at his one decent arm. He could still vividly feel the muscle memory of an on-target throw in his right arm, distorted by the damaged nerves. He couldn't just mirror it without rewiring his brain from scratch, and not with the raw scar carved into his left palm.

Laina snatched a second ball from his pocket and bashed it with her hand to try to bring it to full size. She managed to randomly find the mechanism—squeezing the two halves on the center rim—before he could teach her, and then stood up with a battle cry. "Take this!"

The capsule soared with her shout. The Pokémon didn't move. A capture beam fired when the capsule's button accidentally contacted the creature's body, and it clattered on the floor.

Ciel couldn't help but laugh. "Announcing that you're about to throw a Poké Ball wouldn't work on anything with a flight instinct."

"Shut!" she said with a sharp finger at him. "Did I do it?"

"Not until it shakes," he replied.

After the first, then second, then third wobble, the Poké Ball regurgitated its contents and then promptly fizzled, circuits fried. It took an astronomically large amount of power to register unconfirmed DNA, compare it to known samples, and save a completely new profile in a temporary data bank versus sending a saved entry on a one-way trip with each use. A failed capture meant a dead ball.

As the baffled Nosepass reformed in as many separate pieces as before, his sister huffed. "Maybe it doesn't want to go with us."

"Maybe. Poké Balls are supposed to work better when you've worn a Pokémon down and shown them strength in battle, and otherwise they can break out."

He let his own thought hang in the air, and then immediately realized how weird it sounded to say. That was how Poké Balls were always advertised, but stasis functionally halted a Pokémon's consciousness entirely, so how could it break out if already digitized? Plus, how on Kibra could free will be quantified?

Not to mention, higher grade Poké Balls—far more expensive ones—had higher success rates, implying that better technology could override free will. That was a moral muck he was nowhere near qualified to wade through. Ciel wasn't a cynic by default, but he couldn't help but mentally log that note for later, when he had better access to research papers and survey data.

He handed his sister another ball, and she threw it a second time. Another failure. She groaned. Ball after ball that either landed broken or misfired at the creature's feet had been all but exhausted Ciel's reserve supply had been all but exhausted, but on their second-to-last capsule, Laina finally threw the winning capture. The ball touched home, clicked thrice, and then stilled.

He nudged her arm and stood from behind the rock. "Looks like we caught a Pokémon. You're basically a Trainer now."

She held a swirling passion in her eyes, though he couldn't say for what. "I think I kinda get it. Just a bit," she said.

His grin felt really, truly genuine. "Let's go introduce ourselves."

This was one of the simplest chapters in the story. Ciel still carries shades of everything hanging over them, but I thought it was really cathartic to show the siblings just hanging out, bantering, and interacting with the world. Very refreshing!

To the guest reviewer Zephyrain, I hope the story reorganization didn't confuse you too much! I simply broke down the original 12 chapters into 53 smaller ones, and I've since published Chapters 54-60. They're still marked by "volume" numbering similar to the original chapters, though.

Next time is Part 3: Still Family. See you someday!