He'd be here any minute.

Argon scurried from room end to end, though with its small size, that wasn't saying much. When was the last time the Raichu had to prepare for a visitor, nevermind a roommate? Years? She cursed herself, levitating another Cup O Oran into the overflowing trash can on the other side.

Top and bottom bed sheets folded at least halfway decent? Check. Air freshened to get rid of any garish smells? Many nights spent in the same room had no doubt made her noseblind, but check. Expedition gear and books tossed onto the shelves so they weren't a disheveled mess? Not completely, but now was the time to prioritize. She glanced over to a picture frame hidden in the corner. Inside was a faded piece of parchment, well-worn yet unsigned with two bold words on top proclaiming 'guildmaster acceptance'.

Argon sighed. Why did she even keep it anymore? Just some cruel reminder of what she had to sacrifice to avoid predetermined tragedy? Not like it mattered now. If nothing else, the frame would make a great cover for the gaudy crack in the plaster from that time—

Three knocks reverberated against the disheveled door to room twenty-six.

"Crap."

With any luck, he didn't hear. The sudden noise caused Argon to jump, large tail on her back knocking against one of the shelves. A book near its edge hit the stone floor with an accompanying thud.

"Door's open, you can let yourself in."

Argon reached for the book. Its silver-lined cover was threadbare, coated with a similarly tinted layer of dust left from a world left behind. It would be tempting to simply close the random page its fall had opened. There was a matching imprint on the shelf that such a remnant of the past would fit well on, but a soft creak from the door redirected her attention.

She propped herself against the side of the bunk bed, putting on her best smile. Fortunately, Chimera seemed more focused on the item in his hand: A bronze badge, differing to her own only in its lack of dents. She made a mental note to warn him of the dangers of running his hand over the object, lest they be ejected out of their first mystery dungeon because of the Bagon's enthusiasm. Despite his absorption, Chimera also seemed the slightest bit distracted, glancing occasionally to something pinned to the back of his freshly issued expedition backpack.

Argon cleared her throat. "S-So, everything go alright getting registered?"

"Pretty much," Chimera replied, grumbling slightly, "guess some things never change. How many bubbles and signatures do you have to put on the dotted line before the damn thing becomes redundant?"

He rubbed his left hand over his right, soothing a sprained wrist.

"It gets a heck of a lot harder when you don't even have the same...never mind."

"Comes with the territory," Argon replied, chuckling, "I've seen it get infinitely worse when you get into the higher positions. I-In fact, you sound like my—"

Argon also found herself pausing. She couldn't deny that the resemblance was uncanny, but they had only known each other for a day. Was it really necessary going over such details at a time like this? Just from looking at the Bagon, Argon could tell that he was tired. A short while ago, the Raichu had gone to great lengths to keep the past buried; if the fates were kind enough to let her keep it so, she wasn't about to say no.

"Anyway," Chimera said, punctuating the statement with an infectious yawn, "we gotta take care of some busy work before we hit the hay, but mind if I show you something first?"

He reached behind the backpack, a brief flicker of light reflecting off the object clenched in his hand.

"I found this when I was taking a little walk back here. 'Probably doesn't have anything to do with either of us, it just seemed a little...weird."

With any luck, he would be right. Chimera had given the impression that he buried his own past, it seemed only fair that she could do the same in the tentative stages of their partnership. Unfortunately, the gods seemed to have disregarded any notion of leniency that day. The Bagon's hand opened, revealing an object that stunned her heart better than any seed could.

A silver badge, speckled with sand and rusted around the shield-like edges.

Son of a...

"Was a little difficult digging this up," Chimera replied, holding an admirative grin, "but hey, who was I to refuse? The water's amazingly clear by the beach; I never realized it until now."

Sweat coalesced down Argon's legs. Her paws fidgeted. He didn't know. He couldn't. The Bagon was blind as a zubat on that beach, but what if he—

Argon shook her head. It wasn't the time to make a fool of herself, at least, anymore than she already was. She'd have to bluff it.

"Speaking of which, would you mind if I hang this up somewhere here?"

He eyed the top bunk. There was a spot next to her conglomerate of mystery novels that would work quite well.

"I know you probably can't just rank up by finding a random badge on the floor, but I always found that it's nice to have these sorts of things hanging. Gives you a sense of what exactly you're working towards."

"U-Uh...sure," she replied, motioning towards the top of the bunk, "by all means."

Chimera smiled, holding a grin that she could only hope was laden in ignorance. It quickly, however, morphed into a nearly imperceptible scowl as the Bagon took the time to survey the room. Its cramped conditions, utilitarian blandness and sense of having been hastily cleaned were nostalgic in all the wrong ways. As claustrophobic as a closet, and as dreary as a battery without a speck of charge left. Chimera quickly put on the fake smile donned by Argon. There was a glint in his eye as the Bagon surveyed the room, and for a Raichu so used to such an unchanging setting, that was perhaps the greatest source of fear.

"Anyway, we should be registered as a team by tomorrow, but the pencil-pushers at the town hall said that we'd need to take a group photo to rubber stamp the whole thing. Do you know where we could go to get that done?"

"Oh, of course," Argon replied, "we can do that right here, actually."

The camera would be easy enough to find. It was more of a briefcase than anything, with only a large lens on one side that betrayed its use as a bedside table. The film...that would be more difficult. It had been years since Argon had used the bulky device for anything more than holding drinks.

"Alright, if I was a film canister, where would I be hiding?"

The answer came conveniently, frighteningly so. A brief analysis of the room ended with bitter chuckles from Argon, stemming from knowledge that the solution to their problems was already in her own paw.

"I-I guess...you can't keep the past buried, can you?"

She turned over the book in her hand. Specks of dust flew around the room as Argon wiped off the silver-embezzled cover, like dirt springing from a cofagrigus that refused its place under the shifting sediment of time. With the obstruction gone, both could clearly see the faded lettering, proudly proclaiming its contents as an adventure book. Argon couldn't help but laugh.

"It's a scrapbook. The title's a little erroneous, but we should be able to get some leftover film in here. Now we just have to find what page I left it in…"

She opened the first page, drawing a curious glance from Chimera.

"What else is in there?" the Bagon asked. "Relic fragments? Old gifts? Especially unflattering childhood photos?"

"Two out of three isn't bad," Argon replied, "I-uh...I wasn't particularly alluring back in the day. Not much now, even, come to think of it.

He scoffed, flashing a toothy grin at the Raichu.

"Trust me, it can't be worse than yours truly."

His intentions seemed playful, but the longer both pokemon considered the comment, the more earnest his expression turned.

"You know...I just realized something. You literally can't imagine how ugly I was as a child. I'm willing to bet, no matter what you're thinking of right now, it doesn't match what I used to look like."

His lighthearted tone quickly returned, unable to belay further suspicions brewing in the back of Argon's conscious. With an accompanying chuckle, she returned her attention to the book, happy to take the Bagon for his word.

"Gods, I haven't looked at this thing in...ages."

"All the better," he replied, "nothing like the thrill of discovering something new. You know, if it's alright with you, maybe we can start filling that thing out later? Someone has to do it, but I know from experience you won't get anywhere stuck doing busy work."

The last sentence struck a chord. She had heard it before, hadn't she? Or at least, something to that extent. Her last non-sequitur was more of a jest than anything, but the more she analyzed Chimera, and everything he had said up this point, the more accurate it seemed. The realization sent a shiver down her feet.

"Y-You know, you kinda remind me of someone."

"Which part of me?" Chimera asked. "My inability to get up in the morning feeling remotely alive? Doing a better job at drowning than swimming? Or...my charming good looks?"

Again, two out of three wasn't bad. She waved off the comments with a slight nod, opening to the first page of the scrapbook.

"In all seriousness, how are they doing, anyway, that person you're talking about?"

Argon couldn't reply. Her eyes were glued to the first page. Its corners were faded, and the black and white imagery difficult to make out, but the Raichu still forced her eyes shut, unwilling to let moisture condensing around them drop to the page. In the forefront was a Pichu, holding a tentative smile she knew all too well. The real source of sorrow, however, was behind her, in the form of a large Ninetales. Even after the better part of a decade, the fox pokemon's toothy grin flashed through the camera lens.

"H-He's… alright."

"Fortune favors the bold, Argon. Like I said, we all have a legacy to live up to, as kin that's even more so. You can't live it without having at least the slightest sense of adventure in your fur."

An ember from the Ninetale's maw punctuated the statement, souring leisurely toward a Pichu knee-deep in snow. She was a world away, in a bitter, uncharted forest long thought forgotten by the Raichu lamenting her old life. The attack was weak, intentionally so, and too slow to have any hope of hitting her. She got on all fours and darted to the side, feeling chilling numbness begin to creep up her limbs.

"I-I know that, it's just...I'm not you, the great guildmaster Sean. I'm not sure I ever will be."

Arceus knew the Ninetales was experienced, but his movements were sluggish. Partly due to the cold, and partly from the thick cast over his hind leg. It still drew a wince from Argon contemplating how the pokemon before her insisted on training even with such a recent injury. Nonetheless, the obvious bags under Sean's eyes made it all the more easy to rush up to him with electrified fur.

"Arghh...well, you hit like a guildmaster at least. I expect nothing less of my daughter."

Sean clamped his jaw down on Argon. Not too hard, but enough to grab hold of the Pichu and toss her against the powdery snow. His tails stood on end, surrounding themselves is a psychic energy. The effect was immediate. Light-headedness filled Argon's conscious, accompanied by black borders enveloping her sight.

"Remember what we practiced. Hypnosis is a dangerous technique when you're unprepared, but easy to prevent when you are. Keep your muscles tensed, and the blood flowing to your brain."

Argon did so. An audible hic left her mouth from the gesture, and after a brief moment the feeling of drowsiness was gone. Sean smiled. As such, he was caught unprepared by a retaliatory jolt of lighting from the Pichu. He smirked back, falling to the snow after loosing his balance against the rigid cast over his leg.

"You take after your mother," Sean said, shrugging the attack off with a shake of his fur, "it makes me as proud in the long term as it does annoyed in the short. Your electric attacks feel stronger. They're improving at a shocking rate, have you been practicing?"

"N-Not really," Argon replied, doing her best to return her father's smile, "It's just...I'm pretty sure it's because you're tired."

Sean's composure drooped. He lifted a paw to his eyes, suddenly aware of the plethora of wrinkles below.

"How did you know?"

"Y-You're… you're always tired," Argon deadpanned.

His mouth opened to object, but only a pitiful ember left. In place of any words, the Ninetales turned his attention to the forest, running his paw over a dilapidated wonder map.

"True enough. It all comes with a purpose though. Should we keep going? I'd prefer to show you the spot I talked about before the sun sets."

They went on. The snow formed a thick blanket against the pine trees and grass, extending out in an endless, uncivilized abyss. Between the Pichu's feet having a short girth through the knee-deep powder, and her father lumbering along with a clumsy brace, their pace was about equal.

"Let this be a lesson, Argon," Sean stated, "don't make the same mistake I did. Take care of your feet; they're the only thing separating us from those garish wheelchair carts."

If their trek through the forest had made the Pichu's limbs any less numb, she would have agreed. Eventually, the trees parted, and both stopped before the cliff overlooking a colossal mountain range. Grassy gaps in between powdered snow slowly turned to rock the higher they looked. Cold could do little to stop Sean's mouth from twisting into a grin. He pointed his paw forward, directed towards a single peak that pierced through the clouds. Between its mounds of grey rock, the structure seemed coated in perpetual blizzard. Seemingly on cue at her father's direction, the sun made its decent behind the mountain, coating the land before them in shades of purple, orange, and red.

"You see that mountain over there? That's where I plan my next exploration. These are the moments I live for, Argon. The beauty, the discovery, the purpose, all of it comes with the responsibility my position entails. Sure, it's a large commitment, but I can't imagine having a different life."

Argon never doubted the majesty of such a sight, but accompanying it was the reality of the situation. She looked back to her father, nodding in approval as he tentatively placed a paw on her shoulder. Below his fur, the Ninetales was covered in the cuts and bruises of exploration. The cast was obvious enough, but the Pichu had long since spotted the more subtle details. She looked toward his fur, finding the occasional hair turning an undeniable shade of grey. Before she could question it any further, Sean reached into his exploration bag, pulling out a piece of parchment fated to find its way into the Raichu's apartment.

"I suppose there won't be a better time than now. As much as it pains me to say it, I'll be retiring in the better part of a decade. There's much work to be done in the path to becoming a guildmaster."

He let out a nostalgic chuckle, a dichotomy to the Pichu's own expression.

"I won't sugarcoat it. You'll be expected to pull a lot of all-nighters in this path, a lot of days spent working towards this higher goal, but the sights...wouldn't you say that it's worth it? I couldn't have asked for a better daughter; I want to give you that gift."

Shivers went up Argon's spine, more in part to the binding contract before her than any cold. Her father enjoyed what he did, that much was certain. Normally, the Pichu would want little more than this herself, but infrequent memories surged through her conscious. Both stood still, an unfulfilled legacy suspended between them.

"I-It sounds great."

She turned away, directing her vision to the prominence of rock and stone piercing through the heavens.

"That exploration you're talking about, what day are you leaving?"

Sean's smile broke. His posture drooped, redirecting his gaze to the snowy floor.

"I was hoping to discuss this with you and mother back home, but you deserve to know now. Three days, I'll be heading to chart that mountain in three days. As for the length of the trip, maybe...two weeks? Possibly more."

Argon shrugged. Such news wasn't uncommon, but knowledge of events to come made the blow unusually deep. To her surprise, it was Sean who had to lift a paw to hide a bated tone. If she looked closely, she could see the tears beginning to soak into his fur.

"I...I know that your hatchday is next week. I can't apologize enough for my upcoming absence, Arceus knows you deserve better. For what it's worth, It's a dangerous exploration. Sending in a less experienced explorer would be negligence on my part, and if we wait any longer the mountain will get colder than it already is. The busy season for the guild starts soon, if I'm not there for that then—"

"It's fine," Argon interjected, "y-you've made so many sacrifices for the family. Who am I to say I can't accept a couple?"

Unfortunately, it was the Pichu's turn for body to betray emotions. She wiped her eyes, turning away just short of the Ninetales not noticing. Wind howled against the trees, sending specks of powder against their fur for a long moment. He placed his paw on her shoulder once more. The touch was less affirmative, gentle even, and in it both regained some of their composure.

"I'm so sorry. This wasn't how I wanted things to be. You're strong, though, and you have your mother's empathy."

Argon nodded, gaze stuck to the floor. After a brief sound of rummaging from the Ninetales, she found a wooden box placed before her. Its sides were polished to a fine finish, showing an industrial yet uniform construction. A small button poked out from the side. The only other outside feature was a thick, copper cylinder jutting out of the middle, with a small, glass hole in the center.

"If it's any consolation, I picked this up from one of my business trips to Faire. The color pallet's binary, but It's truly an amazing piece of technology. You don't need to be an artist anymore to put life into a page, just film."

The gesture redirected her attention well enough. Arceus knew how difficult it must have been for her father to lug the bulky device through their entire hike. A tiny click sounded from the strange machine when she pressed the button. Analyzing the lens revealed three golden letters inscribed into its protective tube. They were familiar to a Pichu, even more so to a Raichu.

"G-Geez. How much did all of this cost?"

"Don't worry about it," Sean replied, "there's nothing in the world too expensive for my daughter. In fact, once you evolve, I think I remember seeing a vendor a while back who was selling evolutionary stones. At the very least, they're easier to find now than back in the day."

Sean turned his attention back to the camera. After shifting his gaze between the device and piece of parchment lying in the snow, he again reached into his exploration bag. Another sheet of paper came out, carefully unrolled from its protective casing as he laid it before himself and Argon. After a brief second of analysis, the Pichu gasped.

It was a painting, inscribed in pastel. Incredibly lifelike for its colorful nature, portraying a vibrant, green field with two pokemon leaning into each other. On the left, was a Pikachu, holding a tranquil grin she knew would greet her when they returned home. On the right was a Vulpix, itself taking up a challenging position punctuated by its smirking expression. Its tails were upright, being playfully pulled by its cuddling companion.

"I-Is that—"

"Your mother and I," Sean finished, "I commissioned this painting a lifetime ago, back when we were just getting started. My memories are somewhat fleeting nowadays, but that day...I remember that we made a promise. Firstly, we said that we'd do everything in our power to help other pokemon, and secondly, that we'd forge our own legacies. Until there wasn't anywhere left to explore, any hill left to climb, or boulder left to push, we'd keep pressing."

The shivering returned. She could see where this was going.

"It was fate, I like to believe. You know the legend about how those who pull one of my kind's tails will end up with a thousand-year curse?"

The Pichu nodded, unable to stop herself from stealing another glance at the painting. A Pikachu so much like herself was behind her father, tugging its tail without a care in the world. A couple seconds too many of silence passed before Sean's laughter filled the forest, accompanied by a dismissive wave.

"Utter hodgeposh, I tell you. In fact, I like to believe the reverse was true when I was a Vulpix. When your mother and I formed our team, and we made that painting, that was when I knew we were the key to forging each other's destinies. I hope someday you'll find someone of whom you can say the same."

He bit down on the parchment, holding it out to her.

"Please understand, it's an incredible opportunity. Your mother and I know you already spend so much time locked away in your own room. I can't stomach the thought of you being forced to work in some dispassionate flim-flam job. My time as the guildmaster has been the best period of my life; you deserve the same."

She averted her gaze, looking toward the setting sun. From her father's phrasing, it was an enticing offer. The work would be difficult, and the hours long, but there would no doubt be a sense of security in following the footsteps of such a concrete plan. And yet, the more she looked toward the Ninetales before her, the louder her mind shouted interjections.

There was so much for the Pichu to discover, and scarcely enough hours in the day to do so. Books to read, instruments to learn, quiet moments to appreciate. Her father was happy enough, but when had he had time for...anything else, really? True, she could scarcely remember the last time she had made small talk with an acquaintance, nor did she want to, but in exchange for a simple life, that was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

"I-I appreciate the offer, but...I just need time to think it over."

The howling wind was the only response. An imperceivable scowl formed on Sean's face, but it left with a melancholic sigh. He returned the paper to his exploration bag. A smile forced its way to both, accompanied by a glance to the camera.

"Well then, all in good time. What do you say we see what this device can do? I couldn't think of a better environment for a test run."

She nodded. The conglomerate of colors had faded as they made their way to the edge of the cliff. Nonetheless, they placed the box before them, letting a soft click emanate from it after they had taken their positions. Argon could scarcely remember if the smiles on their faces were genuine or forced. What rang clear through her mind, however, was tripping to the snow in her clumsiness, and using her father's tail as supports to return to her feet. Whatever the future lay, she could only hope that the photo wasn't a similar presage.

"Argon? You alright? You seem a little out of it."

The Raichu shut the book, leftover film from the page in her paw. Luckily enough, the moisture around her eyes left as soon as it appeared, letting her turn to the Bagon with at least a moderate sense of decorum.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine. Just...stuck in the past, that's all."

"Eh, it happens," Chimera replied, toothy grin beaming toward the heavens, "what do you say we get this photo done? Destinys a-waitin', wouldn't want to let it get hung up by something like this."

"Yeah, 'c-course it is," Argon replied.

She couldn't put her finger on it, but something seemed...different about her perception of Chimera. Finding him on the beach, showing him around Faire, agreeing to form a team... It had all happened so fast. Standing in front of her soon-to-be partner about to create a portrait a Ninetales had given such binding importance, the realization hit her: Pretty soon, the Bagon would be it. The pokemon before her was the one dragging her back into the life fate had long since decreed unavoidable. A part of the Raichu knew it would do her some good, but that didn't make the phantom shivers any less prevalent.

What did, however, was a piece of brown wrapping paper, poking leisurely out of the next page . She reopened the scrapbook. Memories against surged up her conscious, based on the plethora of pictures glued next to faded wrapping.

The Pichu was gone. In its place was a Raichu; not too different, but owing its existence to what the thunder-bolt inscribed paper had held. There was little trace left of the thunderstone, only a simple message written in the same chickenstratch handwriting that having to sign dozens of papers a day with only ones mouth gave. She chuckled, ending bitter recollections with a sigh as the words rang clear through her head.

Apologies, for everything. One last splurge before you leave; go make your own fate.

She closed the book. All that was done, and right now, there was a Bagon waiting. As they lined the camera up and took positions for the required photo, Chimera leaned against her. Argon only sighed when she felt him give her tail a short tug to steady himself. The path before her seemed to be narrowing, but after remembering the past, she wasn't content to let it repeat itself.