I'm sorry about not being alive for three weeks. It's just that the chapter I had written was horrible. I really don't want to post anything horrible for the people of the interwebs, so I tweaked it a bit. I also have a life that is honestly quite busy now that skewl's getting started. Also, forgot to do this in all my other chapters, but I'm not sure if it's even necessary... Here goes- I do not own Pokémon or any characters, settings, concepts, or creature names belonging to Nintendo or TPCi other than any original characters or creatures I decide to add as I see fit.

One more thing: this is minor, but it's been bothering me like heck. The names of my chapters previously contained the character's name who narrated the chapter, and then the name of the chapter. Because my chapters are only 1-2,000 words long, I want to remove the restriction of 1 point of view per chapter so that eventually, my chapters will be at around 10,000 words each! So, for example- the chapter called N: Moonlit Day will be changed to just Moonlit Day.

When I think of Ash Ketchum, I think of eyes ablaze with hope. Jerky, exited movements punctuated by whoops of glee. Passionate, powerful, and reassuring.

A bit like a cup of honey tea, Grandma's croissants and the warm feeling of a Fletchling nuzzling my cheek.

A lot like Dad, before he was Dad. The strange assurance that he was... connected to me somehow. The way my heart would skip a beat after passing him in the halls, the odd feeling to jump out of bed and go to the Upper Chambers where he slept, just to feel that flicker of recognition ignite in my gut.

I rub the Keystone with my thumb over and over, almost as if I'm scraping away the oily residue on the outside. Like I'm peeling away the years of elegant love I've had for Absol like I helped Grandma peel onions, exposing the, throbbing, pulsing chunk of raw emotion.

"Finding oneself," he said. "There will not be understanding of the world around us unless we fully understand the perceiver of the outside."

To Hell with that! I don't care if Dad said that so much he got the words damn trademarked, he was wrong. "Dead wrong!"

I blindly followed his words for two years, and what good came out of it? Kalos is at war, half the people I know are dead, and I realized something.

I was so absorbed in seeking myself out that I ignored the world around me. I was selfish, heartless. I did what I had to do, just like Ash. But he fought valiantly alongside his friends for the rest of us. I killed, wounded, tore apart families and friends, just so I could roll my eyes backward and see myself in a new light. I guess that in a twisted way it worked. I know who I am now. I am Astrid the beautiful, misguided by my blood father. I am a psychotic killer, a Narcissist whose own demise will be her own vanity.

Yet, though my mistakes are clear, I still feel sorry for myself. I still wish for redemption, that somehow Dialga will turn back the hands of time and I can do everything over again.

But why? Why am I in denial? Why do my instincts fly in the face of all logic?

Why can't I accept it?

He's dead, it's my fault for not coming with him. Even if he was a liar, he didn't deserve to die.

Now I have to focus on what matters. What I can still protect.

It hurts, after such a long time of not doing it, but I stand up, and with a sudden burst of adrenaline, shove my wheelchair out the door of my room.

"I am through with being sorry!"

"Alouette, gentille alouette.

Alouette, je te plumerai la tête."

They make small talk around him, chortling with laughter, guzzling beer from aluminium cantines. The ones that are sober huddle in something like a Durant pile with a deck of cards, occasionally throwing odd glances at him, but shrugging off his glassy-eyed stare as a side effect of the alcohol. But he has not taken a sip of the booze. In fact, he has not eaten or drank anything since their arrival in the Hoenn region.

The first hints of morning start to appear in the sky. Flocks of Swablu rip the curtain of night from the stage, revealing the magnificent sky. The clouds look so close one could almost reach out and grab them, foreshadowing the heavy fog to come.

The sun looks almost blood red as it lazily floats up from the horizon, turning the now visible water a deep shade of orange. If he bothered to look up, he might see the helicopter marked with the all-too-familiar logo. It signals the arrival of his superiors.

Everyone snaps awake, even him. They all rush to the clearing where previous training took place and align themselves into rows and wait.

The chopper descends at an almost dramatic speed; not exactly slow, but too hesitant to be proper protocol. The doors ease open while the helicopter is still a good ten feet above the ground, and a woman clad in a black jumpsuit leaps out. He smiles at the sight of her, and as their eyes meet, her gaze sharpens. Aldith's hands fly to the belt at her waist and her hands grip a Pokéball.

"Drew, can you tell me what the Hell you are doing in Hoenn?" she snarls. "And you? All of you D Squad men honestly couldn't figure out that there was something wrong here?"

Her shriek spurrs the murmurs of anxiety to spread like a wave through the 24 men, all glancing nervously at each other, looking for someone to blame.

He walks toward her, muttering something incomprehensible under his breath. For a while he just stands there, head lolling forward, eyes fixated on the ground.

"May."

Her eyes widen in anger. "What are you-"

"-May. You wanted an answer to your question, Sir, so I gave you one."

Amused, he watches her grip a Pokéball so hard that her knuckles whiten. "So, you're in Hoenn not because you have a death wish, but because of 'May'?"

"Mmm-hmm, yup."

"And what exactly is a May, Drew?"

First he snorted. Then he looked Aldith in the eye and grinned. Soon, he had thrown his head back and was laughing so loud that he might as well have been screaming.

"Ah, Aldith. Don't you understand? I haven't severed my ties with my past!"

At this, the shocked men quietly observing the scene came closer to their commander. "Sir, we're sorry, really." "He was wearing a disguise!" "Dressed and acted the same way Jorge did!"

The redhead stamped her foot in anger. "Shut up, will you?"

She turned her attention toward Drew himself, dressed head to toe in D squad grunt attire, with hair dyed blond, and blue eye contacts.

"Explain to me right now why on Earth you thought impersonating a D squad member was a good idea."

"That's an easy one," he replied, nonchalantly popping his shoulders. "To see her again."

"Argh! Liepard, use Body Slam!"

Aldith called out the feline Pokémon and scowled as it complied gracefully, calling out its name as a sort of battle cry and leaping onto Drew.

"Now listen and listen well. My Liepard will claw your eyes out and lick its paws afterwards unless you explain to me every one of your psychotic ramblings."

Drew rolled his eyes and sighed the way a child might act in response to a scolding.

"Fine," he giggled. "May is my love, my life. I knew her and I knew that in battle, she was a force to be reckoned with." He paused, smiling at a spot beyond Aldith's eyes.

"After the bombings, she came back to Hoenn. She's gotten powerful, yes, but only because I helped her. Only because I looooved her! Don't you see? I can manipulate her! I can make this good for both of us! I'll make her sorry she left me, and you...

"You will have her in the palm of your hand."