They were in the reading room trying to figure out a way for Guzma to hold a book with his claws. There were many failed attempts and laughs, and though he eventually got the holding part down, turning a page proved to be an even more difficult challenge. They gave up, and instead she offered to read aloud to him. This had come complete with whatever voices she could muster and dramatic waving of her hand. He's watching her now, as he sits in his night form with his legs out across the couch. She's sitting on the arm of the piece of furniture, book in hand, and barely able to contain her laughter at her own ridiculousness.

He gives her a toothy grin. The closeness between them had also brought out a certain degree of silliness. The times since the party had been some of the happiest he's ever experienced. What had felt like an invisible barrier between them has disappeared. No longer was there a hesitation and longing when it came to thoughts of holding her, kissing her - and more. Now that was freely acted upon, with every insecurity and worry of rejection gone. They'd spend nights talking, reading, occasionally going outside, and finding other ways to entertain themselves until the daytime, when, perhaps, too much time was spent in his room.

He tries not to think of breaking the curse, because it isn't about that. Truly it isn't, and he acknowledges that it might be too late for that anyhow. By this point Comfey only has a few petals on her - a secret that still only the two of them, and Liam and Plumeria know. How long does it take love to grow? Probably more time than he has, so better to not think of it and just enjoy what's left. And if the grunts get a morale boost from seeing the two of them together, then maybe that was ok too, even if it is a bit of a lie by omission. But why should they not also be happy in what little time they have? This is the least he could do after being the reason they're trapped here.

And so while he feels a bit torn emotionally - caught up in the happiness their budding relationship is bringing, and the despair of knowing it'll soon come to a close when the last petal falls - he's determined to show his best happy face to everyone around him and savor the joy that he can find in the time being. He can't imagine she'll want to stick around when Comfey's gone. Who would? It would just be her, and him as a monster, surrounded by Lycanrocs and unable to leave forever and at every moment. Hell, if it came down to it, he wouldn't let her stay even if she wanted to. She deserved to experience the freedom that he would eternally be denied. He wanted her to be able to live her life, even if he couldn't live his. Because - well, because he was falling for her, and at least he got the chance to do so, even if it all seemed to be happening too late. The Big Bad Wolf had certainly come a long way. If only it had happened sooner.

There's barking and scratching at the door, putting a pause in her reading. When the voices multiply and start to become a mournful chorus of howls and whimpers, she lowers her book and the two of them make for the exit. From the sounds of things, something had gone horribly wrong.

"What? What is it?" Guzma asks the pokemon anxiously crowding the hallway. The pack begins to lead them away, out of the reading room, through the mansion, and outside. They don't stop at the gate, in fact they go as far as the edge of the barrier and are all looking off in the same direction, their sad barks and whimpers still creating a confusing mess of sound. Guzma peers through the rain and darkness, trying to make out what has upset them all.

There, far beyond the barrier, is the body of a Lycanroc. Even with his eyes enhanced in this form, he can only just barely make it out from here, and from the confused look on her face, she can't see it at all.

"What happened?!" Guzma finds himself yelling, though he knows they can't answer.

"What is it?" she asks.

"There's someone - one of us - way out there! They're too far! We won't get there without dying. They might already be dead." From the lack of movement and just how far out the body is, Guzma knows that "maybe" is almost certainly a "definitely." Panic and guilt rise up his spine. Every death this place had every brought had always felt like his fault; another dark mark in his list of wrongs.

She's calling out her Mudsdale now, saying, "I'll go get them."

Guzma's glancing around for the pack of Araquanid, but the coast seems clear. He doesn't want her to go, in case they show up, but what choice does he have? She's the only one who would make it out that far. "Alright just - just be quick. If something goes wrong, we might not be able to get to you."

And then she's off out toward the body. He never takes his eyes from her, squinting into the distance, doing his best to keep her in sight despite the rain and haze. He watches her dismount from the horse, kneeling to inspect the body and then recoiling a bit. Whoever it was, was dead. He's hit with another wave of panic when he realizes that he doesn't know who it is that's out there.

She tells her Mudsdale to kneel, and visibly struggles getting the body onto her pokemon. It takes a few minuets, but after she succeeds, she's leading her pokemon back to them, body in tow. Guzma nervously watches along with the pack. The sooner she got back, the better.

She makes it to them, and looks at Guzma, shaking her head. He approaches the horse, gently removing the cold and lifeless body from its back. Whoever it was, was long gone. He places them on the ground, inspecting the wounds and trying to get his bearings on the situation.

Now, back inside the barrier the body appeared to be changing back into human form - death had freed them of the curse. Guzma holds his breath, knowing that the loss of anyone within the mansion would greatly sting. How could it not after all the years they'd spent together?

When the transformation is complete, he finds himself looking at the face of the male grunt who'd approached him at the party. The one who'd told him he spotted a human within the town. His mind runs wild with shock and remorse. Had this somehow been the work of the human he had tried to warn him about? He couldn't know for sure until morning when the grunts would be able to explain.

One of the Lycanrocs beside him starts to howl. It's a grievous, sorrowful sound, and one he's heard on a few occasions before. Several grunts had died over the years, and the ones who died at night always got this treatment. There was some instinct within the grunts in this form that they would give in to when it came to mourning the fallen. More of the Lycanrocs join the howl.

They stand there outside Po Town as the voices of Team Skull fill the air.

After morning finally does come, Plumeria and Liam explain what happened. So, that afternoon, Guzma has them all gathered in the dining hall, which is now back to its usual look and utility after the party. Because of the years they've all spent trapped here, everyone within Team Skull knows one another. However, much like how he, Plumeria, and Ethan had formed a trio, there were still cliques and friend groups within the team. There were couples, and drama, and those who got along, and those who didn't. There's a group gathered at one of the tables that the unfortunate grunt from last night was obviously a part of. Though everyone within the dining hall is as somber as the weather outside, none were more upset than this table.

Plumeria is the one to give a comforting speech to the gathered grunts - something he had never been good at. While she talks, Guzma sits, elbows on his knees, and his chin resting on steepled fingers. Wave after wave of regret had been attacking him since he was told, yes, it had been a human, and yes, it had been the one they tried to warn him about. He had dismissed it and now someone was dead. And he feels utterly responsible. How could he have come so far and yet still have so far to go? Why hadn't he listened? What was wrong with him?

There's a hand on his knee, and he looks over to see her concerned face. This was probably the most sorrow she's seen out of everyone since arriving here. He doesn't know if she's been here long enough to really appreciate that the sadness comes not just from death, but from the knowledge that that death came without even a taste of freedom one last time. The grunt had died a prisoner of Po Town. It's a reminder that they all might go that way, should the aging process start again when Comfey's gone. He takes her hand, giving it a small squeeze, before sighing and rising to his feet. Now to decide what to do about this human should he return.

"It's time to crack down," Guzma tells them. "We'll take turns being on guard in shifts. If you see anything you report it straight to-"

The doors to the dining hall crash open to reveal Liam, wide-eyed and alarmed. "Eyy boss! We've got him! We've got the guy."

Guzma's stunned. Already? When he had placed Liam and two other grunts on guard duty for the first shift, he didn't think anything would come of it so soon.

There's murmurs coming from each table, and chairs are squeaking as every eye turns to see the human walking in, flanked by the two other grunts.

He's a tall guy with a muscular build and sleek, dark hair. His features are undeniably handsome, even with the somewhat smug look on his face. Guzma had spent enough time in the company of the wealthy to know that his clothing and the way he carries himself screams "money."

A couple of grunts from the table mourning the loss of their friend stand, chairs flying backward, ready to pounce on the newcomer.

Guzma's about to tell them to stand down when the chair next him moves as she gets to her feet and says, "Garret?" And everything screeches to a halt in that moment.

He turns to her. "You - you know him?"

Before she can answer, this Garret person's eyes light up when he fixes them on her. Then he breaks away from the grunts, coming toward her, saying, "My god, there you are! You're alive!"

Instinctively, Guzma steps in front of her when he reaches them.

She puts her arm on his. "It's alright. Yeah, yeah I know him." She moves in front of him, and Garret suddenly sweeps her up into the air, planting a kiss on her lips.

Guzma blinks, fists balling as a combination of confusion, shock, and anger hit him.

She pushes against Garret, separating herself from him as he puts her down. "Garret! What are you-"

"We have to get back! Now!" Garret interrupts her.

Go back? "Who is this?" Guzma asks her. She looks flustered with both men talking to her.

"I'm her boyfriend," Garret answers.

It's like a small bomb has been dropped inside his brain. Hurt and betrayal well up within him. Here it is: the other shoe he knew would inevitably drop. He was a fool for starting to believe that he'd been wrong about that. "Boyfriend, huh?"

"What? That's not - he's not-" she starts.

Garret won't let anyone get a word in. "And champion of Alola."

"Garret! What is-"

He turns his attention from Guzma back to her. "We have to go! Your sister's sick!"

"Alana? What - what's wrong?"

"She's very sick; she might not make it! We need to go now!"

"You're not going anywhere!" Guzma yells. "You killed someone!" There's shouts of agreement from the grunts.

"I didn't kill anyone!" Garret moves closer to Guzma. "Maybe you shouldn't have had your damn mutts attack me!"

"Maybe you shouldn't have trespassed!" The two of them look ready to come to blows, nearly screaming in each others face.

"I was trying to get to her! To tell her about her sister!"

"You've been sneaking around here!"

"Looking for her!"

Both of them have fists raised, eyes locked, prepared to fight. The grunts are in an uproar throughout the dining hall. Liam and Plumeria have come to stand on either side of him, ready to join the scuffle should it start.

Then she's between both of them, pushing them apart yelling, "Stop! Just stop!"

Garret takes the opportunity to grab her arm and start pulling her towards the doors. "She's right, there's no time!"

Grunts get up and step into their path, blocking their exit.

"You're not leaving," Guzma says coldly, crossing his arms.

Garret turns and glares at him. "Then she'll have you to blame when she can't even tell her sister goodbye."

Guzma's shoulders slack a bit.

"Alana is dying," Garret says, his grip on her arm not relaxing.

Hearing it said so plainly amidst all the commotion seems to make his words hit home for her. Tears begin to slide down her cheeks, making Guzma resolve slip further away from him.

Garret continues, his voice softer now; sincere. "There isn't much time left."

She looks at him tearfully. "Guzma, please."

He finds himself remembering his mother and how illness had taken her away as well. He relives how it felt like a gaping wound had been torn through him to not be able to tell her goodbye one last time. His arms fall to his side. "Go."

There's cries of disagreement from the grunts.

"Boss!" Liam says next to him.

"Just go." Guzma says again, meeting her eyes.

"I'll come back," she tells him, nearly a whisper and barely able to get the words out before Garret's again saying how deathly ill Alana is and that they need to leave immediately. He watches her tear streaked face turn from him as the two of them leave the dining hall.

The double doors swing close behind them, and she's gone.

Afterward he'd ordered everyone out of the dining hall, unable to deal with their shocked and accusatory stares. Plumeria and Liam had attempted to stay, and in his frustration he'd told them, "You two too!" with more anger than he'd intended.

He stands alone in the room now, staring out at the empty chairs and tables. There's several emotions fighting their way to surface within him, each competing for dominance. He hadn't even had time to process last night's death and now this? How could things have gone so completely wrong in just a matter of hours?

He scratches at the back of his head, then pulls out a chair and plops down in it, slouching. Boyfriend. She had a fucking boyfriend. The goddamn champion of Alola no less. And yet she'd started this with him. Why? Was it all just - just a game then? He sits forward, elbows on his knees, and puts his face in his hands. Of course it was. He expected the curse still had a low chance of being broken, but he hadn't thought it'd be for this reason. Because as much as this wasn't about the curse, and as much as he tried to deny it to himself, he knows, deep down, he did have some small hope that maybe, just maybe they'd be able to break it in time. That everyone would finally be free from the prison he put them in. That he wouldn't live out the rest of his days essentially alone.

He'd fallen for her and he had let her go. He'd learned to love someone else, but it wasn't enough. She couldn't love him back while she was preoccupied with someone else.

He'd been stupid. Stupid about all of it. He knew from the start better than to get his hopes up. He knew this would end badly. Didn't everything for him?

He wonders what to do now. Does he tell the rest of the team about Comfey? Let them know how close they are to running out of time? He needed something to drink; something to think over. He rises from the chair and goes to the kitchen.

Guzma stands in front of the cupboard, and closes it, thinking of his favorite drink... remembering that it was hers too. When he opens the door again, he groans at what he finds. There's his cup of Tapu Cocoa - only with a large amount of whipped cream on top. He picks it up, and stares at it. How many times had they drank this stuff together? How often had they flirtingly teased one another over how they preferred it? It would always remind him of her now.

Tears start to blur his vision as he continues to gaze at the cup. It shakes slightly in his hand. This was all too much too soon; too many things crashing down in one fell swoop. And all that's left, is this stupid cup of cocoa. It's over now. It's all over and he'd gotten so close. His breathing becomes more labored as frustration grows in him again. He throws the cup and it shatters, leaving behind a brown splotch, and whipped cream that's slowly slipping down the wall. He rubs at his eyes, feeling embarrassed, even though there is no one else there.

He slams the cupboard shut with such force that it bounces back open to reveal yet another cup of cocoa with whipped cream. He leaves it there, storming off. Maybe this called for something stronger to drink anyway.

Guzma's sitting in the round window of the far east room, bottle in hand, and Comfey sitting on his lap. It has exactly two petals left and no more. He isn't drunk, but simply tipsy, the alcohol not helping his swirling thoughts nearly as much as he hoped.

There's a knock at the door, and he already knows who it is. Liam and Plumeria were never far behind if they thought he was in need. They are better friends than he ever deserved. He tells them they can come in.

"You ok, G?" Plumeria asks, approaching him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

Guzma sighs. "Eh, I'll live, I just won't like it."

"Hey, that's the spirit, boss!" Liam tells him, sitting on one side of him while Plumeria sits on the other.

Plumeria looks wearily at the pokemon on his lap.

"Yeah," he tells her. "We're just about out of time here."

"She might come back."

Guzma laughs ruefully. "I don't think so, Plumes."

"She said she would."

"Yeah, maybe if she weren't already involved with pretty boy champion, right?"

Liam scratches at his ear. "See, this is why feelings are bullshit."

Plumeria cocks an eyebrow at him. "You say this after making progress with Ethan?"

"Been thinkin' about putting a stop to that anyway."

They're both looking at him now. "What?" Guzma asks him. "He's been damn near all you've talked about for how long and you're gonna end it?"

"But you get why now, dontcha, boss?"

Guzma just stares at him, confused.

"You get how it ends now. None of this - all these feelings and shit - it never goes well. Didn't before for me, didn't for you now, and it won't for me with Ethan. Guaranteed."

"Liam, what?" Plumeria says.

"You don't even do the whole relationships thing, Plumes. You don't get it."

"I get it just fine," she tells him. "Did you ever think that maybe it doesn't work out because you've already decided it'll fail? Ever hear of a self-fulfilling prophecy?"

Liam looks away from her, out the window.

Guzma nudges him. "Don't do something stupid just because things aren't great right now."

"We could say the same thing to you," Plumeria says, taking the bottle from Guzma's hand.

"What, I wasn't gonna get wasted or nothin'"

"Even so," she looks at Comfey. "Don't be checked out on us for what's left."

Liam glances to the pokemon, and then to the petals that are on the ground underneath them. "Guess it would be stupid to end things now, huh?"

Plumeria nods, giving him a thankful smile for coming around on that subject.

Guzma heaves a huge sigh. "I'm sorry, you guys." It was something he had said to the two of them in particular numerous times. His guilt felt like a mountain he carried on his back and now, with the last petals falling, it felt like it was suffocating him. Time was just about out, and he had failed them.

"Nah, boss," Liam tells him, throwing an arm around him. "Don't be. It's gonna be ok."

Plumeria weaves an arm around his back as well. "G, even if she doesn't come back, we'll be here. Even as Lycanrocs, we'll be here. We've got you."

Guzma huffs, wiping at the tears he feels gathering in his eyes again. "Thanks, guys."

The three of them sit together in the round window, watching the rain fall, and waiting for sundown.