If you're confused at all, skip to the author's notes at the end.

Content Advisory: mental health, depression, suicide allusions.

Bonus: Shane & Tessa

I wish you could understand that it's hard for me to think straight, but I'm worried that, if I tried to explain myself, I wouldn't make any sense. I'm not sure Pokémon can study their minds the same way humans can. Like, in the human world, we have ways of looking at brain activity. In the Pokémon world, I guess it falls to psychic-types… but I don't know how reliable that is.

As a human – hell, as a Vulpix, too, I suppose – my thoughts were always racing. My mind jumped from one idea to another. It didn't stop. It couldn't stop. Anything that seemed remotely appealing… it would latch onto, even if it didn't entirely make sense. Once a thought was in my head, I had to share it. I had no filter. The thought went into my brain and out through my lips… no matter how ridiculous it was. I never understood that people didn't want to hear what I was thinking. It didn't "click."

A lot of things didn't "click" for me. I wish I could show you that I'm… not a good representation of what humans are really like. That I'm strange. That there's something wrong with me. Or, at least, that's what people told me. I just refused to believe them… until Nicky died.

I wish I could tell you that I never understood other people. That's probably still true, even now. I couldn't connect to other humans… much like how I didn't really connect with you or Silvally, at first. I wish I had an answer why, but I don't. I'm too afraid to say anything. How can I make a Pokémon understand that I couldn't grasp why socializing is important? I figured it didn't matter. It's not like I didn't try talking to people. They just didn't seem interested in what I had to say. Looking back on it now, I finally realize that my big problem was that I always needed to share my thoughts.

I wish I could find a way to properly express how it felt to have this compulsive urge to say whatever was on my mind. The best way I can think of describing it is like an itch that will never go away no matter how much you scratch it. But I get the feeling you wouldn't really believe me if I said that to you. I wish I could show you how uncomfortable I'd get when someone forced me to stay silent… but I'm too worried it would freak you out.

Why? Because it freaked other humans out. I know it did. If I didn't get to let my thoughts out somehow – talking, writing, drawing, playing a game – bad things would happen. When I was much younger, I'd scream. As I got older, I'd just shut down. I wouldn't respond to anyone. I'd just stare at the floor, silently willing whoever or whatever was bothering me to leave me alone. That made it hard to "function." Would a Pokémon understand "function" in that context? I'm not really sure, but I wish there was a good way for me to explain it. Sadly, nothing comes to mind.

I wish there were Pokémon like me. I know there are humans that are like me in some respects, but that was information I didn't have as a kid. It might've helped me a lot, but my parents were determined to keep that knowledge away from me. See? Yet another reason I'm too afraid of bringing this stuff up in front of you. I know about your family issues… and I don't want to make you feel even worse about them.

It's not that I don't like my parents, I just don't understand why they were so insistent that I try to be "normal." In the Pokémon world, normal's just a type. But in the human world, "normal" is something much more dangerous. It was a state of mind... some you had to conform to, or face consequences. At least, that's how I think of it. I could be wrong. I'm wrong about lots of things. But my parents used "normal" to justify a lot of stuff they made me do… and I never stood up for myself against it.

"We're just trying to make sure that you can have a normal, happy life, like your sisters," they'd say, but would never tell me what exactly a "normal, happy life" was. I guessed it meant going to a good college, getting a well-paying job, finding a wife, and starting a family. All things that never crossed my mind because I couldn't connect with others.

So, my parents intervened. I wish I could accurately explain what they did, but none of it was stuff that exists in the Pokémon world. They'd send me to these groups after school where I was supposed to learn how to socialize better. It didn't work. They forced me to try out for different sports: football, soccer, basketball, baseball, swimming, cross-country, and tennis. Not a single one worked. They never sat well with me. They always felt like attempts to force me to stay silent and bottle up whatever I was thinking. So, sometimes I screamed and other times I shut down.

The more I think about it, the more it feels like it's all my fault. I wish I could've been more flexible back then, but I wasn't. When I had to do something that I didn't like, it made me extremely upset. I never effectively communicated why, it just did. How could I ever make you understand that? I can't… which is why I haven't said anything.

I suppose all of this contributed to me getting engrossed in games. Fantasy became more and more appealing as reality became more unpleasant and made me more and more uncomfortable. Online, I could express my thoughts as much as I wanted. Sure, some people wouldn't like it. But others would say things that felt encouraging… validating, even. It was relieving. In some respects, it was invigorating! The more I did stuff online, the less obnoxious that itch felt. But that just meant that when I had to go do something else – schoolwork, extracurriculars, family dinners – the itch became a raging inferno that wouldn't die down.

I wish I could find something in the Pokémon world to compare my experiences to, but I can't. Human towns and cities – with their loud cars, crowds of people, flashy lights, and strange smells – were too overwhelming. My human house was safe. It was quiet. That's all I wanted, so I couldn't understand why I needed to go out into places that unsettled me so much.

Conflicts were even worse for me. I couldn't stomach getting in an argument as a human. Even the slightest hint of someone raising their voice caused such an intense degree of panic I'd completely shut down. It was the same online, too. If people started fighting, I'd do whatever I could to avoid having to see it. That's all I was capable of; ignoring the problem and hoping it solved itself. I wish I could convey that sense of powerlessness to you, but it wouldn't make sense. I'm still trying to figure out how I'm still alive when I was such a meek human. By all accounts, I never should've offered to chase after Team Fang with you. I guess my Vulpix instincts managed to fight through my human hesitancies? That's the only thing I can think of.

I wish I could make this all clear for you, so that maybe it would make sense why I had started off as such an awful Pokémon. I had promised myself I'd stop making the same mistakes I did with Nicky, but I only wound up finding new, stupid ways to act on my impulses. I'm pretty sure that's what happened with Nicky, too. As we got older, he was trying to set me straight and help me fit in. I didn't like that, so I resisted… and fell back into a routine I knew I liked. All the while, I failed to see that something was wrong with Nicky. Throughout high school, he offered me fake smiles that I stupidly assumed were real.

… and then, just like that, he was gone.

In the weeks that followed Nicky's death, I gave in and started believing the things that other people said about me. That there was something wrong with me… that I was sick… that I was some sort of freak. But instead of trying to make any positive changes to my life, I simply doubled down… devoting more time to hobbies. My online activities became an obsession. Anything that took time away from my interests frustrated me. And since a lot of those things involved other people, I became frustrated with them. That frustration turned into negativity… and everything spiraled out of control from there.

I wish there was a way for me to safely talk about this stuff with you, but there isn't. Not after hearing what Nicky had to say back in the Temple of Body. He was right. I'll take any opportunity to play the victim. Any way I look it, a conversation about my troubles would just amount to me begging for sympathy… because it's true. I want sympathy. I crave sympathy. It's the only way I could get other people to pay attention to me when I was human, without devolving into put-downs or nasty comments. That frightens me a lot... because I was so uncertain about all of this when I was human, but now that I'm a Vulpix it's suddenly so clear. Could it be because that voice haunting my dreams is right? Is all of this fake? Am I human? Am I... something else entirely?

More importantly, though, I don't want to say anything because I get the sense you're not okay… that there's still this cloud of sadness lingering over you. Seeing you lay into Gallian like you did… it made me worried. Even though we're not fighting anymore, we haven't had that many good things happen to us. You've been put under such tremendous stress that I fear you're starting to crack. I really do want to help, but I'm too afraid that anything I try will make things worse, not better.

I guess that's why, above all else, I wish for you to be happy… Tessa. Because no one deserves it more than you.

I made a promise to you not to let myself go into a dark place again. But the truth is, I'm not sure I ever really left.

I've talked a bit about it with Silvally, but I've avoided the subject around you. It's not that I don't want to tell you or anything… I'm just nervous. The two of us… we call each other friends now… but our relationship has had a lot of lows. Silvally told me that our bonds come from the challenges we've all faced together. I can understand where he's coming from, but I have trouble seeing it for myself.

It's probably because I'm not "okay." There've been a few moments these past couple of weeks that have actually made me smile. But they were fleeting glimpses of happiness. Within a few hours, they were always gone… and I would sink right back down into the middle of this gloomy pit right in the center of my mind. I don't want to be here. I want to have hope. I want to envision a day we can wake up and just be together… enjoying each other's company without the threat of something trying to kill us. But every time I try, it's like there's this invisible rope that wraps me up and drags me back into the depths of despair.

I still haven't told you or Silvally that the morning of my hatch day wasn't the first time I tried to end things. Before I met you, there were a lot of lonely days spent lying under my covers at home or standing in the middle of Azure Cape… trying to find the energy to walk into the sea and let the tide carry me out. One time I acted on the urge and… well… I'm still here, aren't I? I'd like to think that means someone is really looking out for me, but I doubt it. It was just a coincidence. The Midnight Sea is full of wild 'mons, after all, and one just happened to spot me.

I wonder if your human friend felt the same way I do. Would he understand what it's like to wake up in the morning just as exhausted as you were when you went to bed? Were there days when he'd feel so heavy that he just couldn't help but cry? Did he spend waking hours lying about, unwilling to get up and do something productive? I'm not sure and I get the feeling you wouldn't know. Given what I've seen of Necrozma, I doubt he would really give me a straight answer, anyway. The only thing I'm confident about is that he, like me, had days when he would think to himself, "What if I just disappeared? Would anyone really care? Do I matter at all?"

Maybe he does know exactly how I feel. After all, the Prism Virus mark is a part of me, now… burned into my fur as a permanent reminder of what should have been a happy moment, but instead was twisted into something unsettling. I showed it to Silvally, but you haven't caught on yet. I don't want to talk about it with either of you. I'm too terrified of the connotations. Especially after what I did to Gallian. Am I losing control? Am I going to slip and become a deranged monster like Necrozma? The mere thought makes me want to hurl.

I don't know what to think about being a Lucario. In some respects, I resent it. Those days I spent lying in my house, alone? Sometimes I'd find myself wishing I could have hatched a Litten instead of a Riolu. Being a Lucario... makes me feel like there's an impossible standard everyone's going to expect me to live up to. Lucarios stood up against the warring gods in ancient times. The Air Continent named their highest rescue team rank after us. I can't meet those expectations! It's just... just setting me up for failure. Your enthusiasm about my evolution doesn't help in that regard.

Truthfully, I'm still nervous around you because I haven't fessed up to the fact that, initially, I was just trying to ride your coattails to success. I know I always acted skeptical of your "saving the world" remarks, but I did buy into it. The four human-Pokémon teams are my heroes. When I was younger, I sent fan mail to Team Go-Getters and Team Poképals, asking how I could be like them. However, when my aura training went badly, I gave up hope of ever being somebody who mattered… until you came along. You reignited that drive in me, only it wasn't healthy. I convinced myself that becoming a world-saving hero was the only way I could find happiness. Otherwise, I'd be alone and miserable for the rest of my life.

So, in that regard, I contributed to the early tension in our relationship. I was determined to keep your head on straight because I couldn't bear the thought of us failing. I was desperately clinging to the idea that I could be the next Swampert, Feraligatr, Raichu, or Delphox. That's why I got so upset when the Lycanroc-Bewear situation blew up and the guild's impression of you soured. I figured you had blown our chances… and that I had failed.

I've seen the differences, though. I can tell you're trying to do better, but I'm just too nervous to talk with you about all of this. I mean, in some regards, we are living out my fantasy by fighting the Prism Virus. It's just… I finally realize how much I sensationalized the heroes' stories. I can't believe I was dumb enough to think that the other humans and their partners were never bothered by any of the hardships they faced. Nevertheless, that happened.

Now, as we run along after Gallian and face the prospect of another grueling battle, I find myself receding into that dark part of my mind once again. The same thoughts that have weighed me down at other points in our journey are coming back with a vengeance. Can we really win? Can we really bring back those that we've lost? And, above all else, how am I supposed to live with everything that's happened? Because, even if we do succeed, that won't erase the horrifying experiences I've had. I can't just forget seeing Necrozma killing our guild mates… or the footage we saw of Silvally's creation… or, worst of all, my mom standing there, strangling me with her psychic powers.

I'm frightened for what the future holds for us. The temptation is there to just lay down and quit… and yet I can't bring myself to do that. I keep wondering why and it falls back to you and Silvally. Even though my mind is trapped in this deep, dark pit, when we get quiet moments together, it doesn't seem so bad. Heck, sometimes I think that there might be a way to break out. It's just that we don't get enough of those... or I'm too worried about how I should act around you. I guess that's why I can't give up, even though everything's overwhelming.

Because if we can find a way – if we can succeed – then we can have those quiet moments together. And I can finally get to know you for you… Shane.

Exactly one year ago, with no prior creative writing experience, I posted the prologue for Guiding Light on another site. I confess that I initially had no intentions of putting the story here. It was only at the request of an acquaintance asking for a version they could put on their Kindle that I ended up uploading this here starting in October. Originally, I wanted to write a story that pokes fun at Mystery Dungeon tropes by using Gen VII mechanics, but the story wound up morphing into something a lot bigger than that. I hesitate to call it a full-on deconstruction fic, but it's look more and more like one, I suppose. I'm absolutely astounded by the attention this has gotten, especially the darker and more serious parts that I didn't feel comfortable writing.

So, I whipped up something special for this ficaversary. I was waffling back and forth on whether to go the silly or serious route. Ultimately, since I did that silly Q&A on my profile, I decided to go for somber and serious. I made it similar to the Valentine's Day special, only focusing on our main protagonists, instead of our main antagonists.

With that in mind, I would like to take the opportunity to thank you all for your continued support. Throughout the story, the site has, for the most part, refused to send me any alerts. I've only been able to reply to reviews and have loved reading them. But, I'd also like to thank those who simply read or favorite the story, whether it was near the beginning or just recently. As much as I'd like to hear everyone's thoughts, I know not everyone wants to share them or even feels comfortable doing so. Regardless, I hope you continue to enjoy what I have to offer as the story enters its second year. There's still plenty of adventure to be had, with ups, downs, and all arounds, as Sonic the Hedgehog fans would say. Who knows? We may just end up here for a second anniversary special.

Some review replies to end off...

Anon Omega: at this point, I'm just gonna say that, yeah, the Gladion comparisons are spot-on.

SuperOmegaGuest: if Shane were a Ducklett, I'd have to up and quit writing this. Duckletts are awful.

Another guest: easy there, buddy. I can't play Street Fighter to save my life.

Commenter: so, I've actually revised chapter one to show that Shane was taken in December of 2015. Remember, he knows about the events of Super, which wouldn't have existed in 2014.

Next time, for real: Ultra Milotic makes a splash!